Assassin's Blood

by Marina Finlayson

  He had a reputation for seeking new conquests, charming women into love with him, then losing interest once he had them eating out of his hand. But he was the son of the Lord of Night and, as such, would be expected to make a political marriage. I could never be more to him than a passing fancy, and I had no intention of letting him break my heart.

  Still, I wasn’t made of stone. He was as gorgeous as all fae were, and I was afraid that if he kept up this assault for too much longer, I might give in to it.

  “Aren’t you a guitarist in a rock band? I thought that was the whole point—sex and drugs and rock ’n’ roll?”

  “The whole point is the music.” He should understand that. Fae loved music. Almost all of them played at least one instrument.

  He trailed one hand down my bare arm, leaving a shudder of gooseflesh in his wake. “But surely you must let your hair down sometimes? Life can’t be all work.”

  “Spoken like a true fae. What do you know about work? You’re a Lord’s son. Work takes on a whole new meaning when you live in the world without magic.” Ask me how I know. I pushed his hand firmly back into his lap, pleased that I still could. “And you may not have noticed, but my hair is too short to let down.”

  “Oh, I’ve noticed.” His dark eyes were mesmerising. “I’ve noticed everything about you.”

  I dragged my gaze away with some difficulty and watched the dancers swirl past. My glass was nearly empty; perhaps I shouldn’t have drunk it so fast. A pleasant buzz was stirring in my veins. I should leave, before he actually started making sense.

  The Dragon danced past with Lady Brona in his arms, and I pulled a face. “I’m so glad to see Sir Ebos hasn’t suffered any ill effects from his near-death experience.”

  “You sound bitter.” Raven’s arm lay along the low back of our couch, and his fingers stroked the short hair on the nape of my neck, sending all kinds of odd thrills through my body. “Surely you don’t imagine our noble Dragon is lying?”

  “What is the king thinking?” I burst out, moving to shrug his hand off at the same time. “Of course he’s lying! He turns up right at the crucial moment, when everyone thought he was dead, and takes Summer’s side against Allegra. How can the king still have him as a knight?”

  Raven lips twitched in a sardonic smile. “You can be sure he backpedaled fast enough once he realised the lay of the land. He told the king some sob story about being lost in a healing coma for days after being nearly killed by trolls.”

  “Kyrrim said that according to Allegra’s description of that fight, he should hardly have been bothered by that blow. He’s a dragon, and they’re tougher than other fae.”

  “They also have gilded tongues. The king seems convinced.”

  “But the way he popped up just in time to support the Lord of Summer’s argument couldn’t have been a coincidence. That had to have been planned. And that whole trekking into Fire through the mountains of Winter in the first place—what did he say about that? Seems to me like he was trying to get them attacked by trolls.”

  “He was very apologetic about that. Said he was so sorry to bring Lady Allegra into danger, but he was afraid of his brother’s reaction if he had turned up directly at the gates of Fire.”

  “My bullshit meter is pinging like crazy.”

  He smiled. “Apparently, he had mentioned to the king that it would be a problem when he accepted the job of escorting Allegra to Fire in the first place, so the king’s isn’t.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t trust him anymore after a stunt like that. I don’t know how the king can have him around.”

  “It’s hard to un-knight someone, you know,” he said mildly. “The bond between the king and his Chosen can really only be severed by death.”

  “Maybe the king should hire his precious Night Vipers, then, and get rid of him. After all, he seems so convinced that the Vipers are serving some purpose in the fae ecosystem.”

  “Now, now, don’t be bitter,” Raven chided. “Rothbold has asked me to see if I can locate them. Me and my little birds. Maybe if you’re very good, I’ll tell you what I find.”

  “Maybe if you tell me what you find I’ll let you keep your ball sack in one piece.”

  “Threats, Sage?” He laid a dramatic hand on his chest and opened his eyes wide. “When all I’ve ever done is try to help you?”

  “No one wants to help me. Even Willow won’t tell me what she knows about the Vipers. Says she doesn’t want me doing anything stupid.”

  He smiled. “Willow has more sense than I thought.”

  “Oh, come on, I’m not an idiot.” I held up a finger when he opened his mouth. “Don’t argue. I’m not going to take on an ancient bloody assassins’ guild on my own. I just want to know that something is being done about them. Nevith and all their other victims deserve that much, at least.”

  Raven watched me, his usual mocking expression missing for once, replaced by a more serious light in his dark eyes.

  “Truly,” he said at last, “they are a blight on the Realms. If I find anything out, I will tell you.” His sudden seriousness was enough to make me wonder if he’d lost someone to the assassins himself. Then he grinned, his habitual half-smile returning. “The question is, will you be grateful?”

  “Oh, I’ll be soooo grateful, sugar,” I purred, leaning closer and finally letting myself run my fingers down the black silk of his shirt. “I’ll get you a box of chocolates and a thank-you card.”

  His eyes gleamed with amusement as he covered my hand with his own. “Strawberry creams are my favourite.”

  5

  “Stop pulling on that,” Willow said as Lily got out of the car and tugged on the crotch of her jeans again.

  “They’re cutting me in half,” the princess complained, slamming the car door behind her, a sulky expression on her face. “The seam is going right up my—”

  “They’ll stretch,” I said.

  The throb of a bass beat pulsed inside The Drunken Irishman, and my body relaxed into it. The car park was almost full; it looked like a good crowd tonight. Maybe Randall had a band playing. We hadn’t been here for weeks, and the darkness, the music, the crisp night air—even flavoured with the scent of the overflowing rubbish skips against the back wall of the pub as it was—felt like coming home.

  “Why couldn’t I wear a dress? I look like a human.”

  “That’s the idea,” Willow said. “Relax. You might even enjoy this.”

  Lily looked unconvinced, but followed Willow up the back stairs and into the pub. The noise hit like a wall to the face as we went through the doors. Queen was playing on the jukebox, and I bounced to the rhythm of the song as we pushed our way through the crowd to the bar.

  “Evening,” Randall said, coming to take our orders. The big bartender had some troll blood somewhere back in his family tree, and he was an impressive figure at well over six feet of pure muscle. His son, Tony, on bouncer duty at the front door, was even taller. Between the pair of them, they managed to discourage any unruliness among the patrons. “What can I get you lovely ladies?”

  “And me,” Rowan said. “Or are you counting me as a lady, too?”

  “I don’t need to ask what you’ll have,” Randall said, already reaching for Rowan’s favourite beer.

  “Two rum and Cokes,” Willow said.

  “I’ll have a beer, too,” I said.

  “Coming right up.”

  Randall moved with quick, efficient movements, eyeing Lily curiously as he worked. She wore a Glamour tonight. Not enough to make her look like someone else entirely—she still had blue eyes and black hair—but her features were subtly disguised, so that she was no longer recognisably the Crown Princess of the Realms. It had seemed safer that way, and surprisingly, Lily had made no protest. Being a princess no doubt had its advantages, but it would make it almost impossible for her to experience the real world in the way her father wanted. This pub was a well-known fae haunt, and we didn’t need word getting around that we had the princess stayin
g with us.

  “I haven’t met your friend before,” he said as he pushed our drinks towards us.

  “This is Lily,” Willow said. “She’s visiting from Spring. Lily, meet Randall.”

  “Hello.” Lily took an experimental sip of her rum and Coke. Her expression gave nothing away, but she took another, larger one, so first impressions must have been positive. Either that or she was determined to get drunk as quickly as possible.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Randall said. “Lily, like the princess?”

  “Yes.”

  She could have tried harder to divert suspicion, but she’d insisted that she wouldn’t be able to remember a false name. Randall’s gaze was speculative.

  “Just about every second Spring daughter since the princess was born has been called Lily,” I said hastily. “It was a good Spring name anyway, but the royal connection made it super popular. Must be a drag, running into people with the same name all the time.”

  Randall nodded, and his eyes lost that questioning look. “Are you staying long?” he asked her.

  “I’m not sure yet.” She turned away to survey the vast room packed with people, signalling her lack of interest in further conversation.

  Randall raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

  “Who’s playing tonight?” Rowan asked.

  A band was setting up in our familiar corner, and I felt a pang of loss. I’d rather be up there than babysitting our sulky princess. But at least it was a night out, and maybe Lily would stop harping about how boring it was in the sith for a while.

  We really had to find something to keep her occupied, but the thought of trying to find her a job—and getting her to actually do it—was enough to make me shudder. I couldn’t imagine our proud princess taking orders from a human, or demeaning herself with actual work. But she couldn’t sit around the sith forever. That would only put us all on a fast track to madness.

  “New band called Talking Parrots. Screeching Parakeets? Something like that. I haven’t had them in before. Don’t suppose there’s any chance that you guys will be available again soon?”

  Rowan shook his head. “Still looking for a new guitarist.”

  “There’s a guy in tonight who might do. He usually does session work, but I think he’s between gigs at the moment. You might be able to twist his arm.”

  “Fae?” I asked.

  “Changeling, actually. Kiwi guy, nice fella. Just moved here.” He looked around the darkened room then shook his head. “Can’t see him right now, but I’ll point him out to you later. You staying awhile?”

  “Probably,” Rowan said. He was already surveying the room, nodding at people he knew and checking out the single girls. A big group of them were clustered around a table at the edge of the tiny dance floor, and a girl with sleek brown hair half-smiled and looked away as he met her eyes.

  “Remember what happened last time you picked up a girl here,” I muttered to him as Randall moved away to serve another customer.

  He rolled his eyes. “I’ll make sure to ask if she’s an assassin first.” He picked up his drink and strolled across the floor in her direction.

  “A changeling guitarist?” Willow asked as we watched Rowan’s progress. Someone turned off the jukebox, and the familiar sounds of a guitar being tuned struck me with a pang that was almost like homesickness. “It’ll be almost like old times.”

  I nodded, watching the band make their final preparations.

  “You’d work with a changeling?” There was a note of horror in Lily’s voice.

  I bristled. “And why not? What have you got against changelings?”

  Lily shrugged. She had borrowed a glittery top of Willow’s with a wide neckline, and it had slipped casually off one creamy shoulder. “I suppose they’re not as bad as humans, but …” She trailed off, leaving me to imagine the supposed horrors of changelings and humans.

  Being half human myself, I was unimpressed with her fae snobbery. “Stick around. You might even come to like a few of them.”

  “I find they don’t try to kill you half as much as the purebloods do,” Willow added in her most sardonic tone. “You might want to keep an open mind, girlfriend. You’ll make more friends that way.”

  Lily drained her rum and Coke and set the glass back down on the bar with a sharp tap, meeting Willow’s eyes with a challenge in her own. “And what do I want with friends?”

  I snorted. “Do you have so many that you can’t do with a few more? Everyone needs friends.”

  She transferred that blue gaze to me, something of her father’s steel lingering in it. “Brenfells have subjects. We don’t have friends.”

  I snorted. “Sure they do. Don’t you think your father sees Kyrrim as his friend? He bloody well ought to, considering the lengths Kyrrim went to in order to save him.”

  “Who told you you didn’t need friends?” Willow asked.

  Lily shrugged again. “People who know. My mother. My uncle.”

  “Right,” I said. “So that would be the fake uncle who wasn’t even a real family member. Naturally, you should take everything he said as gospel, because I’m sure he never tried to manipulate you.”

  It was kind of sad. For someone in Lily’s position, it would be hard to know if people liked you for yourself or for what you could do for them. Even Willow was wary about letting new people into her inner circle, and she was only the heir of a Lord, not a king. Not that I was going to start feeling sorry for our pampered princess, but I was beginning to see why her father was so keen to get her out of the palace. She had a pretty skewed idea of life.

  Willow got another round of drinks while the band started their first set. A few brave souls got up on the dance floor, and I could see Lily’s foot tapping against her bar stool.

  She leaned over to me in a break between songs. “What kind of music is this?” Her face was flushed with alcohol, and her eyes sparkled in the flashing lights from the dance floor.

  “Good old Aussie rock ’n’ roll,” I said, stifling a smile at the surprise on her face. “It’s a little different to what you’re used to hearing.”

  “It certainly is.”

  Rowan was dancing with the brown-haired girl, spinning her into some wild turns as she laughed up at him, obviously enjoying herself. Rowan was a good dancer. Decades of practice will do that for you. I couldn’t tell from here if the girl was fae; she was pretty, though not outstandingly so, so perhaps she was human. Not that Rowan would care. Like most of us who spent the bulk of our time in the human world, he’d lost a lot of the old-fashioned fae attitudes to mortals.

  “Hope she doesn’t turn out to be another assassin,” Willow said, following the direction of my gaze.

  I nodded. “I’ve had a gut full of assassins lately.”

  “Whoops. Don’t look now.”

  I started, wondering what fresh hell was about to be visited upon us, but she jerked her head toward the door. Raven stood there, talking to Tony, his black hair shining almost blue in the dim light. His eyes scanned the room as he spoke until they alighted on us. With a last word to the bouncer, he began to make his way towards us.

  “I reckon he fancies you,” Willow said. “He’s always turning up lately.”

  “I doubt it. He throws compliments around like confetti, but they’re all just as paper-thin and meaningless.”

  She gave me a sidelong look. “Don’t be so hard on him. He’s one of the good guys.”

  “Maybe.”

  Sure, he’d come through for Allegra when she really needed him to, but I wasn’t sure he was entirely reliable—that playboy reputation worked against him. Plus, some of his methods were kind of extreme. Rowan still hadn’t forgiven him for blowing up his garage in an effort to warn Allegra away from her investigations.

  Watching him walk toward me, brimming with self-confidence and turning heads as he passed, I couldn’t help but feel that I was right to keep a little distance between us. He was so clearly enjoying the attention—was everything just
a game to him? He never seemed to take anything seriously.

  “Evening, ladies.” He gave a half-bow in that usual mocking way of his, so you were never sure if he was actually being courteous or subtly sending you up.

  Lily nodded regally, taking it as her due. I said nothing, but Willow nodded a greeting. “Can I get you a drink?” she asked. “I was just about to buy another round.”

  “No, no, my shout. I insist.” He beckoned, and Randall appeared as if on a string. “Another round for the ladies, and I’ll have a Scotch on the rocks.”

  “Coming right up.”

  He turned to Lily. “Having a good time?”

  She shrugged and leaned closer to shout over the music. “It’s a bit loud for my liking.”

  I noticed her foot was still tapping, though. Evidently, Raven saw it, too.

  “Perhaps you’d like to dance later?” he asked.

  She lifted a supercilious eyebrow. “Dance? Is that what they call that?”

  We all looked at the couples on the dance floor, most of whom were merely shuffling, using the music and the darkness as an excuse for a good grope. Only Rowan and his girl could actually be said to be dancing.

  Raven laughed. “Maybe it’s not quite how things are done at Whitehaven, but you might find you enjoy it.” He leaned back and put his elbows on the bar behind him, surveying the packed room with cheerful good humour. “Good crowd tonight. What do you think of the new band?”

  “They’re all right,” I said. Their choice of songs was good, but the singer’s voice had an unpleasant nasal twang.

  “Not a patch on you, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  Our drinks arrived, and he passed me my beer. “Come outside for a minute?”

  I took a deep swallow of beer, then licked the foam off my upper lip. “I’m good, thanks.”

  He leaned closer. “I have some information for you about that matter we were discussing recently. I don’t really want to shout it in the middle of a crowded bar.”

  A thrill of excitement shot through me. Already? It had only been a little over a week since the ascension. “You move fast.”