The Black Knights

by Matilda Reyes

Hernandez walked across the room to stand in front of us. “Boss, we’ll clear out. I’m leaving Smith and Jones to watch Brett. Is there anything you’d like us to do?”

  “Tonight, I’d like you to go over some hand-to-hand training with Nicholas, with and without knives. He should drill every day.”

  “Smart call,” he said. “Would you like burgers for dinner? I can’t let you go home without you trying In-N-Out.”

  Laughing, I agreed. “You’re always trying to get me fat.”

  “You’re too skinny. You need food in your stomach and some muscles on your bones.”

  “Yes, Uncle,” I teased.

  Nicholas observed our interaction with a small frown on his face. He kissed me and stood, ready to leave with the group.

  Soon enough, Brett sat on the couch to watch television. Smith lowered himself into a small southwestern-style armchair and pulled out a magazine. Jones joined us in the living area and deposited himself to Brett’s right. He broke into a barrage of questions about Carlo’s various hideouts.

  Brett thought the best approach would be to take Nicholas into one of the low-security safe houses and introduce him as a potential recruit. Nicholas would pose as a Vesper who’d been assigned to guard duty and had facilitated Brett’s release, disgusted with the torture and fed up with the lies of the Order. He’d claim that he couldn’t believe that God and the Devil wanted us to commit all this sanctioned violence. Having no consequences in the cosmic Balance was absurd. That story, according to Brett, would work because they’d had other defectors singing the same tune. We had to pray that Nicholas could sell it well enough.

  According to Brett, Nicholas could return home, as more casual members of the cult still lived regular lives. They came early, stayed late, and conducted the cult’s activities throughout their days. The problem was that Carlo’s schedule was unpredictable as if he designed his days to confuse anyone who dared to follow him. The local team would spend a significant portion of their time trying to establish patterns while Nicholas learned about his schemes from the inside. Brett would make the proper introductions and keep an eye out to ensure that Nicholas did nothing stupid. In return, we’d let him go back to Europe to start a new life. He’d be surveilled but he was willing to live with it.

  Content that the situation was well under control, I grabbed my laptop and called Mikael for updates from the office. He promised me that the training activities were continuing as scheduled as were the local missions under Voss’ supervision. All that awaited me were piles of paperwork. I clicked through each of the dozens of documents sent, scrolling through and signing my approval using my touch-screen. I lost track of time, but as I finished the last document, I heard the group coming in. I smelled meat, french fries, and sauce. I’d wasted the better part of the day on paperwork while everyone else had a blast, the pun intended, at the gun range.

  I exited the bedroom and found Jordan giving Nicholas some tips.

  “You don’t have to lower your gun after every shot. Unless you know you’ve hit your target and it’s down, keep your arms up.”

  “I worry about firing too much. I don’t want to kill someone, just incapacitate them,” said Nicholas.

  Jordan patted his shoulder. “It’s all about practice. I’ve seen you do it before. Aim and shoot. Pull the trigger until the threat is neutralized. Don’t stop to check whether you’ve hit them in the exact right spot. Just down them.”

  “Got it,” said Nicholas. “I’ll get to the range as often as possible.”

  “Good. And don’t be shy about asking for help. That’s what we’re here for.”

  Candice picked up a paper sack and handed it to me with a cold beverage. “This is called a double-double with cheese. We got you a chocolate milkshake.”

  “Bless you,” I moaned as I took a sip of the thick, frosty goodness. I took my grease-stained bag and claimed a corner of the living room where I devoured my burger and fries in blissful silence.

  Jordan sat next to me and unwrapped his burger. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up. His confidence is through the roof.”

  “I saw you giving him advice. Can I be sure that you’re not trying to get him killed?”

  Humor crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Yes, dear. His death does me no good, at least not right now. Are you okay with everything?”

  I debated how much to say. My friends were all on the I Hate Nicholas train. Jordan, while he would always be Team Jasper, wanted me to take one for the team. “No, but I’ll live as long as he doesn’t say anything stupid. If he does, all bets are off.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ISTALKED ACROSS THE ROOM as my hand lit up and waved it at Brett. “Do you know what I can do?”

  “You can set things on fire.”

  “I can do a lot more than that. You take care of Nicholas. If anyone harms a single hair on his head, I will hunt you down and torture you in ways you didn’t know existed. I will boil your organs inside your body. I will burn your skin so slowly that you’ll feel the layers blister, feel the nerve endings die. I’ll sear off chunks of skin and feed them to you. Then I’ll get angry. Do we understand each other?”

  Brett gulped and nodded.

  “If he hadn’t volunteered to do this, you’d rot in a cell for the rest of your days. You owe him your life. I expect you to make sure nothing happens to him.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he stuttered. “What about Jordan?”

  I scoffed. “He’s a kitten compared to what I’ll do to you. I’m not sure I’ve made myself clear.” I stepped closer and wrapped my hand around his wrist. My hand was warm. I increased the heat flowing into my hand until Brett’s skin reddened and he began to sweat. A little more energy and a thin line puckered and swelled. He yelped and tried to yank his hand away as I increased the heat in my grasp.

  “Okay, okay! I get the point.”

  I released his hand and admired my handiwork. The scar would fade, but the memory of my smile and the pain would not.

  “Watch his back,” I snarled, and turned away.

  Nicholas frowned at me, arms crossed, and followed me back to our bedroom to watch me pack. “You don’t need to threaten him. I have it under control.”

  “You said nothing when Jordan threatened him.”

  “Well, yeah, because that’s expected. You’re my girlfriend.”

  “Ex-girlfriend,” I corrected him. “I’m also in charge of this operation.”

  “Jordan’s in charge and you’re just… well, tagging along. He’s done all the real work.”

  “Carrying out my orders,” I fumed. “We are not having this discussion again.”

  Nicholas held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Right, right. You’re delegating. Whatever makes you happy. That’s all I care about — a calm, happy Jasper. Promise me you’ll work on that.”

  Remembering Jordan’s warning, I swallowed my anger and pasted a smile on my face. “I promise. No crazy missions or anything. I’ll even get a minimum of six hours sleep every night.”

  “Eight.”

  “Seven.”

  He smiled. “Deal. Don’t worry about me. Hernandez is a great leader. Between his lessons in grappling with Smith and Jones and my role-playing practice with Candice and Marin, I feel good. Ready. I’m not worried.”

  That concerned me more than if he’d been scared witless. Only a fool thought that they could go up against a cult that had stayed two steps ahead of us and not worry. We’d been stupid to think that Nicholas could pull this off without more training. But we didn’t have time to properly instruct him, and we didn’t have any better options within the assassins. We couldn’t let too many people know that yet another High Council member had betrayed us. There were already factions within the Order that distrusted the Circle. We had to limit their reasons for wanting to oust us. Nicholas was our best hope. I was terrified.

  “If you’re not worried, then I’ll trust your judgment,” I said and made a mental note to check in with Hernan
dez several times a day.

  “I wish I could take you to the airport and say goodbye there,” said Nicholas, his smile wobbling for the first time in days. “It’s better that I don’t make a fool of myself in public.”

  “You’ll be fine. I saw you packed your lucky t-shirts.”

  He’d packed all of his lucky clothes, down to his favored boxers that he swore helped him get through his initiation final exam and the shoelaces that he’d used when he’d beat his personal record in a half-marathon.

  “A little extra luck never hurt anyone.” He reached for me and pulled me into a tight hug. “I’ll miss you.”

  Warmth flooded my face. I didn’t know how to respond. Yes, a small part of me would miss the man I’d fallen for, but I wouldn’t miss his crap or the way he glommed onto me. “Wrap this up so you can come home. Or I can fly out here and end this for good.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The commercial flight and taxi that Jordan and I took got us home in just about twelve hours. I’d never been so grateful to see the entrance to the Order of Vespers in my life.

  We walked in silence to the entrance of Quasimodo’s Tower, the building we called home, the tension between us palpable. We’d been pressed against one another for the better part of a day in the tight confines of the crowded airports and the cramped plane. I’d fallen asleep against his shoulder and had woken up to find that one of us had lifted the armrest and we’d been snuggling while unconscious. He’d rested his cheek on the top of my head and twined his ankle with mine. The woman in the aisle seat next to Jordan had called us a cute couple.

  A couple? Gah! Wrong on so many levels, yet… neither of us had said anything about it. But damned if it wasn’t still on my mind, the thrill of our bodies connecting in so many little intimate ways.

  We reached the elevator bank where our paths diverged and stared at each other.

  “So, uh, tonight. Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yeah,” I blurted. “I, um, will call to check in on everyone before falling asleep. Tomorrow will be business as usual.”

  “Right. Business as usual,” he parroted, his tone only slightly mocking. “When you talk to Nicholas, don’t bring up whatever’s bothering you.”

  “I know,” I said. Annoyance suffused my cheeks with heat. I wasn’t sure if it was because he brought up Nicholas while I was in the midst of gooey but guilty feelings or because he thought that I needed a reminder.

  “Get rest. Tomorrow will be brutal.”

  “Jet lag, paperwork, and overseeing the mission. Yeah, got it.”

  “See you at the gym?”

  “If the jet lag doesn’t kill me. Night, Jordy.”

  He started to say something but stopped himself with a shake of his head. “Goodnight, Jasper.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Morning came too quickly. Owing to the briefest of phone chats with Nicholas once Jordan had bid me goodnight I had found myself too wound up to get any rest. I’d stopped by Dakarai’s apartment, but he’d been out for the evening. Mikael had volunteered to come over even though I’d woken him from a dead sleep. I didn’t have the heart to drag him out of bed for an issue I couldn’t even explain. I’d grown fond of tequila, so the bottle that I’d purchased kept me company until I was no longer coherent. I’d fallen asleep in my clothes and hadn’t even made it off the couch.

  My dry and sticky mouth, gritty eyes, and cramped body protested when my brain suggested going to the gym. I was too tired and sore to be productive on a day when I needed to be on top of my game. I couldn’t let my nerves about this mission, and who was on it, bleed through into my work. I had to meet with Voss to catch up on what I’d missed, brainstorm with Danny, meditate with Dakarai, and observe the newest training module. Groaning, I stumbled into my bathroom, showered off the grime and germs accumulated through my travels, and stuffed myself into shorts and a t-shirt. I’d shoved my feet into my sneakers when a knock on the door scared the bejeezus out of me. Peering through the peephole, I saw Jordan.

  My heart thundered in my chest. Had he known that I’d dreamed about him? That he’d joined me in the library in the liminal place, laughing at my pathetic attempts to snap a plank of wood in half with magic? Had he seen that intimate moment with Nicholas morph into his own sleepy smile next to me in bed?

  I opened the door and tried to smile as he handed me a cup of coffee.

  “I had a hunch that you’d force yourself to train this morning. No sense in doing it without caffeine.”

  “That was nice of you,” I said, sipping from the lidded cup. I joined him in the hall, closed the door at my back, and we were on the way to the elevator.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked, merriment dancing in his eyes.

  Crap. He knew. Worse, he would lord it over me and enjoy my embarrassment. I knew that sharing dreams with him would bite me in the ass.

  “Nightmares,” I mumbled from behind my cup. “Horrifying nightmares.”

  Jordan let out a rare belly laugh that echoed down the hallway. “I’m not sure if I’m amused or offended. Am I that bad?”

  “I don’t know what you think you saw, but you’re wrong.”

  The elevator must have just dropped someone off around our floor. The doors opened mere seconds after I hit the button and we found ourselves alone in what felt like uncomfortably close quarters. The space was too damn small for the two of us when Jordan wasn’t pressed up against the opposite wall like I was desperately trying to do. Even more so when he angled to look down on me as I squirmed in discomfort and decided not to look him in the eyes.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, the mirth in his voice not going anywhere. “But now, I’m intrigued. Why don’t you tell me all about it?”

  The doors sprung open, and I bolted out, speed walking my way to the gym’s entrance. I punched in the security code, the door opened, and I marched into my corner of the room. I turned around to face him and found him in front of me.

  “Move,” I demanded. “We have work to do.”

  “In a minute. What do you think I saw that’s got you so worked up?”

  “Nothing.” I wedged my body between him and the wall and got around him, my face hot and my body too aware of his. My dream had been intense, one I hadn’t woken from willingly. That he’d seen that and found it funny was worse than the time I realized that my crush on him was not reciprocated and he was seeing someone else.

  He clasped my wrist and held me still. “I didn’t see anything. You know how sometimes I have a sense of you? Well, I had trouble sleeping because I knew you were thinking of me. Then I dreamed of being with you somewhere I didn’t recognize. That you performed some kind of magic. It changed after that. It was warm and sweet. Comforting. Nice. That’s all.”

  Nice? That’s what he’d gotten out of my dreams? Nice? I’d woken up hot and bothered and guilty as hell, and he thought it was just nice. Heaven help me. “It appears we shared a dream of the liminal place. I don’t know if you were there with me, but I saw the same. You laughed at me.”

  “With you.”

  I dipped my head. “With me. As for whatever you felt after, I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “The truth never hurts.”

  I removed my hand from his. “Sometimes it does. Can we get to work? I have a busy day.”

  “I know. I’m in half of your meetings plus the training session.”

  Crap. How had I forgotten that he’d been pitching in since Amsterdam? Along with Voss and Mikael, he was already (and once again) an integral part of managing the assassins. In direct contrast to his management approach, which amounted to handling everything on his own, I’d set up a team of competent people who I trusted to take on various aspects of my work. It may not have been as cool as having the almighty leader, but I liked to think it was efficient in its own way. And I had to admit if only to myself that Jordan fitted into all of it so well that I was already taking him for granted.

  With some effort
, I broke eye contact and flowed into my routine for the day, yoga and stretching, while he did whatever he was scheduled to do. As I held my Warrior’s pose, I felt his eyes on me. He’d stopped mid-motion.

  “What’s wrong now?” I griped.

  “Your form is off. Don’t you feel it?”

  I did, in fact, but I didn’t know what was off. Virabhadrasana was one of my toughest challenges in yoga. I could do more complex poses with little difficulty, but something was blocking me from getting this right. And how the hell did he know anyway? “I’m fine.”

  He put his weights down, came over and stood next to me. His hands touched my hips and rotated them ten degrees, and I felt my body loosen up. He placed his hands on my shoulders and leaned my torso forward a few inches, allowing my back to curve and my rear leg to slide into alignment. I felt the energy flow through my body and felt that block disappear. A sigh of relief escaped as the twinge of pain along my spine dissipated.

  “That looks better,” he murmured. Then he was back at his station as if he hadn’t fixed my long-time problem and sent shivers down my spine.

  I worked my way through my sun salutations and moved into a stretching practice with my back toward him, berating myself for feeling anything. As if I could control my errant dreams. Or my bodily reactions that stemmed from those dreams. As soon as I was done, I packed up and left without saying goodbye, too worked up to speak without embarrassing myself. I was twenty-one years old now, and if I couldn’t move past a crush that I’d nursed since I was eighteen, then there was something seriously wrong with me.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Hernandez called me at noon, a full three hours ahead for him, with an update. His training with Nicholas was going well. He was no assassin, but he’d have no trouble defending himself against an ordinary assailant. They hadn’t figured out how to use his healing abilities as a defensive maneuver. Candice had a few ideas that she wanted to explore.

  Nicholas was brimming with excitement. He’d gone for a run earlier and found that park that Jordan and I had told him about. He considered bringing Brett along with him since the “poor guy” was going stir crazy not even being able to use the yard. He figured that if they were to be a plausible pair of friends, or at least allies, they should be able to do things together.