The Priest's Assassin

by V. C. Willis

  “Is this a test?” I scowled.

  “You’re going to be going through a battlefield,” she shifted and spoke in a hiss, reprimanding me like a child, “and if we live through that, Captiva City is full of enemies I assure you it’ll be easier to hear and smell long before you can see them. Falco’s reach still lingers even there, but worse, you’re taking a higher risk now that you’ve laid injury to Landon. He won’t let that go.”

  Grimacing, I looked back down the hall one way then the other. I closed my eyes, shoulders slumped in defeat, and inhaled. So many scents invaded, something I had been purposefully numbing and blocking with the ales. Heartbeats surfaced from all directions, and the anxiety tightened in my chest. At night, when there’s no sounds to focus on, this gets a little much even for… A chill snaked up my spine, and I turned on my heel and marched to the door she had lunged for.

  “So, were the three of us sharing a room?” I lowered my brow.

  “No, my room is next to the knight and nun.” Red Wine smirked and walked through a door and slammed it.

  Shit. This is overwhelming to keep going. Gripping the doorknob, I paused, inhaling John’s scent and focusing on his heartbeat. He’s asleep. Good. Pushing through, I was silent. John was hunched over the tiny table, his shirt and jacket tossed across the only bed in the room, and I scoffed. Such a child. Shedding my coat, pulling off weapons, and kicking off boots, I did my best not to let the weight of my items clunk against the wooden floor. Drawing the lock, I turned to the bed and pulled his items off, halting a moment as I stared at the jacket. I hope I never have to see his blood across this cloth again. Shaking the past from my head, I hung them on a coatrack and turned to the sleeping man at the table.

  “…don’t leave me, Dante…” John mumbled in his sleep. “…I promise never to leave you ever again…”

  A smile crept over my face, running a hand over my forehead to move loose strands from my eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

  It took some finesse to work his dead weight from the desk gently enough not to wake him. Hooking an arm under his knees, I lifted him with a grunt and marched him to the bed. Once satisfied he wouldn’t roll off, I drew up the blanket and paused. His face twisted and frowned in his dreaming state. A golden strand hooked into the corner of his mouth. Gliding a finger across his cheek to pull it free, I gazed at his lips as my heart went racing against my will.

  Such a lovely creature I’ve fallen for… Leaning in, I kissed him softly and pulled away, embarrassed and body flushed with want.

  A hand gripped my forearm, pulling me off balance. Our lips pressed more firmly, opening to one another so our tongues could seek out one another. Chills rattled through me. The taste of his blood filled my senses, goading me to suckle his tongue, and he moaned in response. His fingers drew fire as they slid under my loosened blouse and climbed up my torso. I pulled myself onto the bed, straddling his torso as his hands explored my body until they pulled me down into him. We were drowning in one another’s desire. Breaking the kiss, I searched the sleepy gaze, panting with provocative passion.

  “You’re late.” His voice was husky.

  “Not my fault you chose to wait at the desk and not in the bed,” I retorted.

  John’s hands began the descent back down my stomach and gripped the front of my pants. “I want you.”

  I scoffed. “You already have me.”

  He gave a disapproving expression. “You’re pushing yourself so hard, but you’re not a one-man army.”

  I held my breath.

  “I can fight.” His fingers worked slowly, unbuckling the belt and unfastening my pants with well-paced diligence. “You have a knight and master assassin, too.”

  Closing my eyes, I groaned as the heat of his hands gripped the hardened prize.

  “Dante, I mean it.” John stroked slowly, his other hand rubbing up across my torso. “We chose this path together, to be lovers even. Do not try to walk it alone.”

  “John, I can’t put—” My breath caught as he shoved me back, my shoulder blades pressed hard against the wall where the bed met it.

  He towered over me, and my arousal made me moan at the sight of him. “If you ever leave me, I will hunt you to the ends of the continent and the next if that’s what it takes.”

  “Is that a threat?” I huffed as my eyes lingered on his lips.

  He licked them and cracked a smirk. “It’s a promise. If we are to ever become separated, may we find one another under the cherry tree.”

  With that, he leaned down, the heat of his mouth taking in my hardened length, goading me to tilt my hips. His tongue hot and silken wiggled under my shaft as he sucked. Another moan waved through me, and hungry for him, I reached down to keep him there between my thighs. This time he moaned and took me deeper, the back of his throat tight as I panted. I rocked in and out of the wet warmth he offered, and it wasn’t long before I grunted in release. He sucked long and hard, swallowing and flicking his tongue. My body flushed with my orgasm as he rocked back, his blue eyes bright even in the darkness.

  “Feel better?” He darted his eyes away, clearly blushing as he pulled away.

  Grabbing his arm, I pulled him back to the bed. “Yes but…” Rubbing my hand across the bulge in his pants, he moaned. “I aim to return the favor, my priest.”

  “Don’t call me that, prince,” he spat.

  “Have I told you how much I love that angry look on your face?” I chuckled, mirroring the slow agony of unfastening his pants as he had done mine.

  “Why must you bring the worst out in me?” Another flushing of cheeks and he looked away.

  Gripping his hardened length, he grunted and looked back to me with frustration. Pressing my lips against his, we kissed deeply as I began stroking him. Breaking it, I wasted no time to take him deep into my mouth. He folded over, and I did not stop my pleasurable assault, tongue rubbing and deep throating him with hungry want. He rose to his knees, rocking his hip to fuck my mouth as our moans grew. At last, his body tensed, and I pulled him deeper into me, sucking hard as he released with satisfying groans. I swallowed the sweet-salty offering before pulling away.

  John fell back onto the bed, covering his face with an arm. “I was only aiming to please you tonight.”

  “What makes you think I only enjoy getting off?” I laughed, standing to tuck myself away and steal the cup of water he had left half-filled.

  “It was intended to be a reward,” he mumbled, almost sounding ashamed of the idea.

  Snorting, I turned back, furrowing my brow as I cooed, “You by my side is reward enough, John.”

  “Dante, you’re both my shield and sword, my Barrière de Force, and I feel helpless but to watch how you’re breaking yourself for me, for—”

  “As you said before, we chose this together,” I corrected, setting the cup down with a hard clank. “There will be a time where I will need you to be my sword and shield. And honestly, I loathe the idea of it, but you’ve proven more than capable of doing that simply with nothing more than ink to paper.”

  Shoving him farther onto the tiny bed, I laid next to him, kissing his shoulder still scarred from my bite. A great weight of guilt crept forward as I inhaled his scent and threw an arm over him to hold him close. I’m not sure when or how, but I drifted to sleep the moment my eyes closed.

  Chapter 18

  Hunt for the Informants

  I woke to an empty bed and room. Blinking, it became very alarming that I had been exhausted this whole time, though not in the sense I had known it. The release of physical frustrations made it easier to breathe, and the blood-filled kiss still lingered on my tongue. It at least quelled the thirst I had ignored. I was worried using my skills make this grow, but it seems I need to acknowledge it’s more dangerous to go without. John has accepted it. I should too. Glancing at the window, I saw it was brighter outside than I wanted to see.


  “I slept for far too long. Shit.”

  Making haste, I dressed and rushed down to the tavern. John and Sonja were eating breakfast at a table when I approached. They offered for me to sit, but I shook my head and looked all around. My mask hiding my disapproval, I didn’t see the knight or the assassin anywhere.

  “Where are they?” I demanded, cutting their laughter.

  “I assume meeting with informants,” offered Sonja. “They said to seek you out if we needed someone.”

  “I see,” I huffed and turned to them. “Stay in the tavern until I return.”

  Turning and heading for the door posthaste, John called out, “Where are you going?”

  “To practice a skill I keep denying myself. It shouldn’t take long.” I waved him off, feeling his eyes burning at my back as I marched out the door.

  I groaned, seeing the sun at high noon. Seems I do need rest just the same. Even if I can go without, I shouldn’t push myself unnecessarily. Taking a deep breath, I could pick apart their scents, both going in different directions. Shit, which one should I follow first? Another sniff, and I chose the weaker scent. Red Wine. She’s been gone longer which means she should be with her informant already. Valiente only left a few moments before I came down the steps.

  Swallowing, I realized she had gone in the direction the lumberjacks had traveled, back the way we had entered. Weaving past some of the townsfolk, I headed out of town. I trust John to hold his ground if something happens. Her scent cut through two marked red pines, and I slowed down. Here there weren’t many people. Listening, I tried to pick up on anything and flustered as a breeze sent the trees scraping all around. Another deep inhale, and I found the trail fresh and stronger, leading into the darkness in the trees up ahead.

  Looking to the ground, I saw she had been able to leave very little trail. As her smell grew, I could smell another one, their paths merging down a game trail. Another woman? This one is human. Voices hit my ears, and I froze, my head swiveling to a small cave under an uprooted fallen red pine. There. But how should I approach? Steeling myself, I aimed to approach slowly and silently. Cursing under my breath, for the first time, I was not thankful for being built like an ox.

  Squatting low, I could hear them where I ducked behind a tree.

  “So, no more information about Ashton, then?” It was Red Wine’s voice.

  “Besides the fact they are putting more effort into capturing him after rumors about he’s back, no. It seems strangely inconsistent.” The woman sounded older, her voice crackling with age. “As for the informant, it seems he’s alive but unable to move information out of The Church.”

  “As I feared.” Red Wine paused a moment before offering, “I’ll be going to him directly once we cross the battlefield tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” guffawed the woman. “Do you know who is waiting on the front lines for you? I thought you were going via Tavern Way.”

  Red Wine sighed before retorting, “We were. But Landon showed up.”

  “My gods, then Landon is overseeing the hunt this time?” The scent of fear made me shuffle. “Is he after you again?”

  “No, he was aiming for Prince Dante.”

  “And? Did he take the poor child?”

  Red Wine chuckled. “He’s built like a bull. I don’t think anyone can simply take him. Dante put up a good fight, landed a hit on Landon.”

  There was silence.

  “I know! There’s very few who are alive who can make a claim like that,” reassured Red Wine.

  “Where is he now?” her informant’s voice dropped to a whisper.

  “Safe and in hiding.”

  “Ah, but I don’t understand one thing,” started the informant. “Why ask about Ashton if he’s travelling with you?”

  “Well, he seems to not remember much about the time that has passed. I suspect he was mortally wounded and somehow recovered,” offered Red Wine. “All he knows is Fallen Arbor is to blame, and he will see them driven from Grandmere. Rather miffed about his little brother being a target. Now that’s some news you can pass on at will.”

  The old woman chuckled. “I see. It’s good to hear he’s back. We were nearing peace when he was pushing back on these men of shadows and forbidden magic.”

  “Anything you can tell me about the battlefield?” Red Wine redirected the conversation. “What can you tell me about the Berserkers and the current state of things?”

  “Both sides had retreated when folks started recovering from the plague. They say it was a sign from the gods that the fighting must stop.” She sounded proud at the idea as she continued, “But the King sent the horrid Berserk Brigade, and they’ve been slaughtering friend and foe alike. They run about the field like rapid animals, hungry for blood. Since they showed, the Madness has come back, and those inflicted are coming down with it faster and more aggressively. If you ask me, Fallen Arbor has given them some sort of dark weapon or magic of sorts. Men cursing men with the plague is awful.”

  “How many are in the brigade?” she demanded.

  “The Commander Dasa leads them, but he started as a murderer. These men are no strangers to killing and torturing the innocents, and it carries well into the battlefield. The only man to defeat him in battle is Knight Valiente but…” her words wavered.

  “But?” Red Wine’s voice pitched, and I imagined her infamous brow.

  “Rumors in the capital say he’s kidnapped the Princess,” she whispered low as if the mice and insects may spread news of it. “Not one of us townsfolk believe a word of the rumors since they started it.”

  “They as in Fallen Arbor?” Red Wine sounded intrigued.

  “No, actually the brigade,” she clarified before continuing her task. “Dasa’s second in command is First General Kayman. He was a sailor but was arrested when he punched a man’s face in and killed him. Massive man, fights with weighted gloves and chains. Spearman Mythe is a wiry man, usually hangs back and rushes in to finish a kill with a spiked club. Other times, he takes pleasure plucking folks from their horses tossing his spears.”

  “I see. So, they do have some long-range skill in their numbers.” Red Wine seemed to pause a moment as if to absorb it all. “Anyone else on the brigade with long range?”

  “Hmm, perhaps the new recruit?” she offered. “Flintlock Betty is what they call her. Who knows what a Flintlock is?”

  “Shit. They’ve brought over weapons from the Old Continent. This is getting dangerous. So, we have four to take down?”

  “Well, five if you count Gallagher. But he’s all brawn and no brain,” she scoffed, and the sound of coins tinged in the air. “This is far too much. I barely had anything to offer this time.”

  “Consider it reimbursement for the travel and incentive to spread the word Ashton is coming for Fallen Arbor,” announced Red Wine.

  “Music to my ears, Madame Assassin. May the blood flow like wine.”

  Hiding behind the tree, I watched the old woman hobble off. Her cataract eyes made me marvel she could navigate the roots and forest floor at all, let alone travel from the city to here. It wasn’t long before Red Wine marched out and paused at the tree. I stepped out, knowing full well her senses could be as sharp as my own.

  “So, you made it in time to hear.” She crossed her arms, fingers rolling.

  “Indeed. So, what’s a flintlock?” She began to walk, and I followed obediently.

  “A hand cannon that stings like hell. It’s as sharp as an arrow but can get lost in the flesh easy. Worse, it has a longer range than any archer can manage. A bullet from one can bring on infection fast, so I don’t advise getting hit with them.” She paused and spun back to address me, “Did the Knight go meet with his informant?”

  “Yes, I was thinking of trying to track him down next—”

  Red Wine hooked her arm around my own, sounding rather chipper about the ide
a, “Let’s go crash the party, shall we!”

  “I’m starting to feel this was the aim for my training today.” Rolling my eyes, we worked our way back into town.

  “Indeed. It took me a while to realize what you were doing drinking so much.” She pulled her arm away and cracked her neck. “Then I realized that you’ve been in isolated places since your training started, and you’ve grown more powerful. How bad is it?”

  Part of me wanted to remain silent, but after a brief pause, I confessed, “Head splitting. I can smell a thousand flavors of sweat in this place, and if I don’t focus on one heartbeat, I feel like I am buried under a stampede of a hundred horses. It’s almost nauseating.” Halting, I took a left turn and slid between two buildings, and she followed. “If I have a target, like this, it’s easier to drown out the rest.”

  “So, the ale was more for numbing the nose at the very least, then.” The alley took a turn, and I stopped, turning to her. “Why’d you stop?”

  “How did Ashton handle this?” I locked eyes with her. “I mean, he was stronger than this, right?”

  “He was.” Her voice softened, her stare falling to the ground. “He once told me that he had to face his own madness every day. I never really understood that, but perhaps what you are going through is what he implied.”

  I weighed her body language for a moment. “Sorry, I should stop asking about him.”

  “It’s okay. I think there’s only one other being that can truly tell you anything about him, but Frank isn’t willing.” At last, she shrugged and pushed me forward. “Now, the knight and his informant. Sniff them out, would you?”

  Turning my attention to the trail I followed, I found it weaved through the buildings until we found ourselves exiting them on the far side of town. In the trees ahead was a run-down mill, and we took caution as the scent of Valiente and another person made me slow. As we approached, we started to hear voices. Squatting, we managed to crawl close enough for us to hear.

  “They say you kidnapped her.” The informant was a young boy, possibly a squire.