Their brows furrowed. “He would lose trust in us.”
Her face fell in obvious disbelief. “Trust. He holds you with trust?”
“He holds us with respect. He is our friend.” Cade drew her attention now. “You have had a friend, haven’t you?” His voice was soft and soothing; she could feel it pull against her, draw her down with it.
She stepped back from him, appalled. “Respect is not earned, it is taken.” She gave a dismissive sniff. “Why would anyone fear people so foolish?”
She turned from them, headed back toward the house. Fools they may be, but she could see in their eyes that they intended to follow the old man’s decree, fear or no fear. How strange these people were. She didn’t even slow at the door, hitting it with a disarming spell that blew it wide before striding in. One of the men behind her ran to catch up. They wouldn’t leave the old man alone with her, not completely. Whatever—they were a minor annoyance. Nothing to worry about.
The old man waited patiently in the sitting room and glanced up as she approached, glaring the young man behind her back a step. She was not surprised to see that it was Brendan. He would be the one to crack. What would that do? If she could push him to break his oath, would that force Darius’ hand? Or was his stalling due to a fear of her? He didn’t look afraid, at least not when they were alone. It was only when others were around that he began to look nervous. Why did he fear for them but not himself? Was her master wrong—was Darius not the true power among these people?
She looked around the room and inspected the strange array of pictures. There were several people in them, most obviously not related. There were several of Darius: receiving awards, standing arm in arm with smiling men and women. Her circuit brought her face to face with Brendan who watched her with such open hostility that she smiled.
She stepped up to him, her chest just against his. She could feel the force of his anger as his eyes burned down into hers. There was a challenge in those eyes she had seen many times before. All she had to do was provide a little nudge. “What if I were to tell you that I will not hold you responsible for the actions of any man under your control? No action of theirs will stimulate any precipitous action toward you.”
She could see Brendan’s breathing increase as he struggled for control, staring down at her.
“Brendan, you know my wishes.” Darius’ voice was calm but stern.
“But sir…”
She was fascinated at the strength of the fight that played across Brendan’s face. He wanted to hurt her, he wanted to stop her. Every fiber of his body strained to lash out at her, but he held. Despite everything, he held.
Darius was on his feet, crossing the room. She smiled at the tension that wracked the younger man’s body as Darius pulled her back from him. No, Brendan wouldn’t take any pushing at all.
“My men will not harm you unless you attack them,” Darius growled. “They gave me their word.”
“Why do you not wish them to protect you?” Eylsa spit back. “Does your life mean so little to you?”
“My life is not worth theirs. I am an old man; I have lived a very long life. They are just boys, with much to live for. No matter their intentions, I do not wish them to waste it to give me a few more years.”
Brendan crossed his arms and glared at her. The anger was still there but dulled with sullenness at being chastised. “I do not intend to see them cut short either, no matter your wishes.”
“Brendan.”
She studied his reaction. No fear flitted across his eyes but he subsided nonetheless. How far could she push him?
“When I kill him—and I will kill him—it will not be quick,” she started. “I intend to stretch it out for as long as I can. I will keep him alive as long as possible so I can watch him suffer every atrocity my little mind can think up.”
Brendan was on his feet in a blink and nearly on her as she rose to meet him.
“Brendan!” Darius chastised.
She chewed her lip as she watched him shake but he didn’t move. His hands were entangled in the straps of her shirt, his nose almost touched hers, and his eyes screamed murder down at her, but he didn’t move. She searched his face but all he gave her was anger.
She flung him away as she rounded on Darius who had moved to pull Brendan back. “I will go through your ranks. Your death will not be the last. I will kill them all one at a time, letting each fret before I come to them. I will save young Cade for last. Watch from the shadows as he awaits his death.”
Darius did not break her gaze. His eyes held something she didn’t recognize, a softness around the edges. “I do not believe you hold malicious intent toward any of us.”
She stared at him, her expression blank before she spun and left without another word.
The air outside was cool on her face as she stormed along the deserted sidewalk. What was wrong with these people? Were they truly willing to let her kill Darius just because he asked them not to intervene?
She pulled her homing device from her pocket as she shook her head.
* * *
Ashlan smiled as she approached, her sleek lithe body an enticing display in her leather jumpsuit. She came to his arms obediently and he breathed in the scent of her hair—clean, pure, Eylsa.
“How was your surveillance, my love?”
“It went well, young Master.”
He pulled back and held her face in his hands as he kissed her. “You must call me Ashlan, love. How will it look for my fiancée to be seen calling me ‘Master’?”
“Forgive me…Ashlan. I will not forget again.” She was dead in his arms, a warm husk.
“Of course you won’t. Now go clean up, you have a big day tomorrow.”
His lips curled as he watched her move off to her room, appreciating the tight stretch across her backside and hips.
“You should not coddle her so.”
Ashlan felt the muscles along his spine tighten as his father stepped to his side. “It is not coddling. She has performed superbly and should be given privileges.”
“Showing leniency to an assassin is begging to get your throat slit while you sleep. You must never lose sight of what she really is. The horse you trust is the one that will throw you every time.”
Ashlan couldn’t handle the condescending tone. His father could never let a chance to lecture his son slip by. “Father, honestly. How am I not to trust my future wife?”
Mavrin’s eyes shot wide. “Wife? You don’t truly expect to make a life with that girl? Bed her, if you must, but do not think for one moment that you can make her into something she is not.”
His father thought he knew everything, but he couldn’t see past his own small dreams. “Perhaps not trustworthy, but she will make a fine decoration for my arm and my bed. Truly Father, a queen that is an assassin! She could get to anyone at any time. No one would question her.”
“Perhaps. And perhaps she will just be easier to identify.”
“You are assuming someone will be left alive to identify her.”
The king shook his head as he moved off and left Ashlan by himself. His father did not understand. Mavrin squandered Eylsa’s true talents, wasted her trying to take over the Trinity. Ashlan had loftier plans. Truly, why bother being in charge of the Trinity when he could use his killer queen to topple governments, undermine the very council itself? With that much power, no one would dare rise up against him.
He licked his lips hungrily as he raced off to follow his wayward assassin.
* * *
Eylsa stared at the ceiling above her bed, enjoying the silence of the castle. Ashlan would be here soon, confusing and uncomfortable. As her master’s heir, he was entitled to any privilege with her he would like, but Ashlan wanted something she was unable to understand. He wanted loyalty beyond mere obedience. He wanted her to defer to him above Master, wanted them to have a bond beyond master and assassin. She was unsure of how to handle the situation.
Her life was full of confusion right now—Ashlan and his
needs, and her new target Darius. She had been caught by a mark before—it took an amazing talent but it did happen; she wasn’t perfect. There was a scar along the base of her ribs from such an occasion. What had never happened was someone trying to talk to her. What kind of fool was this Darius to try to talk her down? Who talks to an assassin?
The worst part was she was hesitant to take him on. Was she afraid of him? She didn’t think she was; he was nothing like her master or instructors. He was strong, probably one of the strongest men she’d ever met, but she had fought strong men before. It was more his inaction that bothered her, his unwillingness to risk his men. Then there was their loyalty to him. Not out of fear, or out of necessity. She couldn’t understand it. She needed more information. But who would understand? Surely not Master. He would see it as a weakness on her part—and weakness in an assassin would earn her punishment. But who else was there? The old man was out of the question. Perhaps one of his men? They were just as confusing, but perhaps they could help her understand.
chapter 3
Brendan’s shoulder twitched. It did that a lot lately. Like someone stood behind him just about to touch his skin. He struggled not to turn around. Even if she was back there, he couldn’t do anything about it, so he continued his work. He brushed his dark hair back from his face. It had been nearly a week since the assassin had been seen but she was out there, just waiting for them to let their guard down.
“You seem stressed.”
He jerked and turned to see Eylsa as she watched him from the shadows. She was not agitated in any way, and as he watched her cool eyes, he wondered if she ever could. “So you finally return.”
“I have been around.”
He sat back down and indicated a chair beside him. She kept a sharp eye to him as she assumed her usual seated posture. He let himself take her in, not the killer sent to take out his friend but the girl who actually sat across from him. Darius was right—if he didn’t know what she was, he would never suspect her. She was slight, slim, and young, with large bright eyes. There was a calm to her that belied the violence she could deliver. How could anyone turn something so sweet into a killer? She watched him without fear and he could see why Darius wanted to protect her.
He jerked, shoving away the sympathy. He couldn’t afford to soften to her, not with the price he would have to pay if wrong. “What exactly do you want here anyway? You’ve had ample time to take out Darius if that was your wish, but you have made no move to do so. All you have done so far is try to aggravate us into fighting you, but even that seems a bit halfhearted.”
“Do I confuse you?” Her voice was flat, toneless. Her eyes drank in his face. She barely even blinked.
“Yes.”
“What is it you are poring over so strenuously?”
He watched her, trying to read anything behind her stoic mask. “Nothing that would interest you, I’m sure. I was just thinking of taking a break anyway. I was planning to get something to eat. Would you like something to eat?”
“You need a ‘break’ from reading?” She leaned forward as she tried to sneak a glance at the folder lying open on his desk. “Does your master know about these ‘breaks’?”
He waved a dismissive hand at her before he made his way downstairs. He could barely hear her as she ghosted along behind him on his way to the kitchen. He watched her as she went around and opened cabinets to eye the contents.
“So what does one eat on these ‘breaks’?”
He couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling as he pulled out two plates. “My sister sent me a cake; she’s a pretty good cook.”
“Cake?”
“Chocolate.” He lifted the lid to a cake stand and fished out a fork from a drawer then scooped up a bite and offered it to her. She stared at it suspiciously. “It’s good, I promise.”
She stretched out her hand before slipping the fork from his and inspecting the dark confection. “Cake is good?”
He laughed. “Well, that cake is good.”
Her eyes narrowed at him as she slipped the cake into her mouth and chewed. Her tongue brushed the bottom of her lip as she swallowed. “Your cake tastes weird.”
“Weird?” He grabbed a second fork and took a bite for himself. “You’re crazy! It tastes great!”
She put the fork down. “Doesn’t taste like anything I’ve ever eaten.”
He coughed a laugh. “Are you telling me you’ve never had chocolate before?”
She blinked at him. “What is chocolate?” She looked down at the dark cake. “I guess it isn’t bad, just strange.” Seemingly bored with this interaction, she turned and left.
* * *
Darius stirred the pot in front of him with exceeding care. Cade stood beside him and sipped a cup of tea. “Everything seems to be calm. Maybe they gave up on you.”
“I don’t think we’re that lucky.”
Cade contemplated as he swirled the liquid in his cup. “Still, having them focused on you does seem to be keeping down on the bodies we’ve been finding.” Of the three boys, Cade seemed to have the least trouble with his decision to wait and watch concerning Eylsa. Cade was not one for conflict as long as no immediate danger was apparent.
“Well, there is one good thing.” He scooped up a spoonful and tasted the stew from the pot.
“I hope that’s done.” Cade tapped him on the shoulder then motioned behind him with his teacup. “Good evening, Eylsa. Would you like some stew?”
Cade didn’t react as Darius heard her come closer. “It isn’t chocolate, is it?”
He turned and regarded her. “Do you usually eat chocolate stew?”
Her nose wrinkled as she glanced over his shoulder. “What’s in that?”
Cade snatched up a piece of bread and handed it to her. “House specialty. I think you’ll like it.”
Darius turned off the stove, eyeing her as she stared at the bread in confusion. He took her hand and guided the bread into the thick broth. She watched it drip then cautiously moved it toward her lips. She worked the soaked bread around in her mouth as she watched them. “It’s very strong.”
Darius stared into the pot. “Tasted fine to me.”
Cade took her by the shoulders and moved her to the table. “It’ll grow on you.” Darius spooned out three bowls of stew as Cade poured her a cup of tea and took the seat beside her. “So, it’s been a while since you’ve been to see us.”
“I’ve been around.” She rolled each bite in her mouth as she ate her stew with great care. They made small talk but she kept silent as she emptied her bowl. She seemed content to absorb their interactions while she ate and even sat listening after her bowl was empty.
“So, Eylsa, how was your week away? Start any fights?” Cade shot her a disarming smile, a feat he was quite good at. Cade was an easygoing sort of fellow and most people responded positively to him. It would aid him in any endeavor he had a mind to take up, and it just so happened that he was interested in the Tribunal mentor program.
Eylsa scrutinized him, not missing a blink. “Why would I start fights? My target is here. Why would I go anywhere else to start a fight?”
Cade laughed. “So where have you been?”
“Why do you care so much?”
“I’m only curious. Isn’t that why you’re here? Curiosity? Not fair that you can be curious about us but we aren’t allowed to be curious about you.” His smile was warm.
Darius couldn’t read her face. It was closed, guarded. “So you can figure out a way to defeat me?”
Cade coughed a laugh as he ducked his head to the side. “Doesn’t seem we need to defeat you; so far you haven’t done anything to worry about defeating you.”
Her eyes shifted to Darius. “You can call him off. I will not give you anything of use.”
Darius sat forward over the table and crossed his hands around his place setting. He wasn’t surprised by her reaction. She was still trying to sort them out. “He is not looking for anything to use against you. We truly mean you n
o harm. Well, as long as you don’t try to kill anyone.”
Her lips crooked in a slight smile before it faded. “That is truly not a very wise practice. You should be trying to kill me.”
“Funny, from what you keep telling me, you should be doing the same.”
They watched as she stood from the table and, without another word, disappeared into the night.
Darius stared after her as Cade took another deep drink of his tea. “I don’t think she knows what to make of us.”
“I wish I knew what to make of her.”
Darius remained seated as Cade stood and made his way through the house, following Eylsa’s retreat. “I say she is one of many layers.” The younger man lifted something from a stand near the door and brought it to the table. “Is this not what you have Brendan searching the archives to find?”
In his palm rested a small artifact, solid gold in the shape of a unicorn with sapphire eyes and a silver horn. “How could she know we were searching for this?”
“Why would she bring it to us even if she did?” Darius stared at the tiny figurine, his mind an eruption of possibilities.
“We had better go and relieve Brendan from his futile search.”
“Perhaps this will convince him that she’s not entirely bad after all.”
* * *
Trey slid the file back into the book where it was usually hidden. The library was a perfect place to hide correspondence; not very many people used it anymore. Most people had bigger things on their minds than literacy. If they only knew the whole story.
Trey had always enjoyed the library, though not as much as Cade. A library was where they had met so many years ago. Ten years old and roaming the stacks for anything about adventure and knights, he had run across the younger Cade. On the floor, Cade had built himself a fortress of literature much older than his years should have allowed. Cade’s brain had helped them out in school more than he’d like to admit. There were many who said that he and Brendan had corrupted Cade with their raucous behavior. The truth was that without Cade to talk them down, they would have been ten times worse. Now he found himself in his own adventure, fighting to take down an organization of criminals and killers. It was much less exciting than his books.
An Assassin's Redemption: A New Adult Urban Fantasy Romance Novel Page 4