Sharpest Edge: Mercenaries and Magic

by Alessa Thorn

Iz laughed and shook her head. “If you say so, Jefe.”

  “Now that you can call me whenever you want,” he said with a deviant smile. “I like being the boss.”

  “I never would’ve guessed.”

  He raised a brow, smile widening. He leaned down to brush his lips over hers and growled, “Don’t pretend you don’t like that about me because if this morning is anything to judge by, you like it when I tell you what to do.”

  Iz opened her mouth to lie just to see what he would do when the front door opened and Athena came in, ashen hair wild from the wind.

  “Good, you’re back,” she stated and looked at Iz’s plate of pancakes. “Is there any more of that? I’m hungry.”

  Iz went to move her foot from Silas’s lap, but his grip tightened, holding it firm.

  “Good morning to you too, Cubbie. There is some still in the oven if you want them,” Silas said gruffly, with a nod of his head toward the kitchen.

  Iz tried not to smile. This was the Edgeworths communicating at their finest; Athena getting grumpy, Silas pacifying with food, head nods, and a bossy tone, and then they would both settle down and get on with it. It was either that, or they both got swords and dueled each other with words and blades.

  Iz had thought it bizarre in the beginning, but had quickly realized it was what Athena needed, and Silas was helping her as best as he could. And sometimes, that meant kicking her stubborn ass until she saw sense.

  It had always worked for everything except her game with Kon. No one could talk her out of that lunacy, and after seeing them together, Iz knew why. They were the same—vicious, passionate, intelligent, and utterly ruthless. Iz didn’t believe in soulmates, but those two had given her pause on more than one occasion.

  “How come Iz gets foot massages as well as pancakes?” Athena said, sitting down in an armchair and eating with her fingers.

  “She cleaned the apartment in exchange for it,” Silas lied with a straight face. Iz hadn’t cleaned a damn thing since she had moved in. Both Silas and Dante were neat freaks, and she hadn’t so much as needed to vacuum.

  “You going to fight me about Russia still, Zeusy, or you over it?” Athena asked around a mouthful of berries.

  “No point in fighting about it. If we go, we do it properly, though. None of this half-ass bullshit.”

  “Yeah, I wasn’t going to rush in there,” Athena grumbled. She went to swipe Iz’s last pancake, but Silas smacked her hand away.

  “What? She’s not eating it!”

  “Izabella needs it for her strength,” Silas replied, making Iz go hot again at what his innocent words implied.

  “Actually, it’s fine. I’ll let you two work out logistics for Russia. I need a shower,” Iz said, lifting her feet from Silas’s lap and making a retreat to her bedroom. Her feet were tingling with the ghost of his warm fingers. Fuck, it was all too good to be true.

  She didn’t expect Silas to hang onto her in front of Athena either. She wasn’t ready to tell anyone what they were up to. Their crew was nosy enough, and she liked the idea of seeing what was between them without an audience.

  She reached for her deck of cards, needing relationship advice and not having anyone to ask.

  Iz did her best to clear her mind as the soft cards moved through her hands. Taking a deep breath, she turned the top card: Death. Of course. Then she pulled a card with a tall bomb fire and a third of two children in an alembic, holding hands.

  Iz frowned, shuffled, and pulled again. Death. Fire. Alchemical Children. She pulled the cards from the deck, put them on her bed, and tried again. Death. Fire. Alchemical Children.

  “What fresh fuckery is this?” Iz pinched the bridge of her nose before opening her bedroom door. “Cub! Is Kon at home? I need to ask him magic stuff.”

  “Yeah, he’s watching Julian catalog Liddell’s crap,” Athena called back.

  Iz grabbed some fresh clothes for her shower and randomly turned her card again. Death. “Fuck you, deck.” If her magic had cursed her deck, then surely Kon would be able to help her fix it.

  Iz left the apartment twenty minutes later, her laptop in her bag along with her cards and her family book. She had the overwhelming urge to kiss Silas goodbye, but Athena was still sitting with him and frowning deeply.

  Silas had given Iz a wink when Athena wasn’t watching, and she carried it with her like a secret.

  If things do get serious, how is Athena going to react?

  She had been the number one person in Silas’s life for so long, and Athena was notoriously possessive of what she considered her property. Would she be willing to share Silas? Or would she decide to throw one of her beautiful knives at Iz’s head? You just never knew with Athena.

  Iz arrived at the warehouse to find old jazz records playing and Julian with a clipboard. He had no tie or jacket and had rolled up his sleeves to show off the tattoos on his impressive forearms.

  Kon was on one of the couches, with an open book in his hand, like he wasn’t watching the broker like a hawk.

  Iz didn’t doubt that Julian had noticed, and she knew for a fact he didn’t care. Julian was used to being watched for more reasons than one.

  “Ah, Iz. Lovely to see you again,” he greeted with a smile.

  “Hard at work, I see,” she said, nodding towards the collection. “Anything tickling your fancy?”

  “One or two pieces. Where’s your shadow?” Iz stared at him blankly until Julian let out an exasperated sigh. “Edgeworth, love. Is he with you? I wanted to talk to him about Athens.”

  “Ah. No. He and Athena are catching up,” she said and remembered the cut on Silas’s forearm. “Oh, and maybe next time you hire him to do a job, you won’t send him to some dodgy malaka that’s going to ask people to kill him afterward.”

  Julian’s brows went up at her tone. “Sorry, darling, but I only know dodgy malakas. I sent Silas to the nicer ones, so it’s odd that one of them did that. Dare I ask what happened?”

  “The same thing that happens to everyone who decides to corner Silas in an alleyway. You can’t scratch Death and not expect him to take it personally,” Iz replied with a smile. She probably shouldn’t like that so much about him.

  Julian noticed the smile. “Dear me. Well, they had it coming. Are you here to keep me company because I could use an assistant.”

  “No, I’m here for Kon. You’re going to have to keep that clipboard to yourself,” Iz said and headed over to join Kon on the couch. “You know he’s not going to steal anything.”

  “I don’t like new people in my space,” Kon said, dragging his dark eyes from the broker and onto her. “What’s wrong?” That was another thing Athena and Kon had in common. They could see through you in about two and a half seconds.

  “I think I’ve cursed my deck, and you’re the only other magically inclined person I know.” She rummaged in her bag and pulled it out.

  “I don’t see how you could do that without putting any intention behind it,” Kon replied thoughtfully, taking them from her.

  Iz’s chest went tight. “I’ve done it before. Long ago.”

  “Cursed your cards?”

  “No. It was my father,” she replied.

  Kon shuffled the cards thoughtfully, not a drop of judgment in his gaze. “You might have to unpack that for me.”

  Iz let out a breath. She hadn’t told anyone about it, not even her mother. Especially not her mother.

  “He was a real piece of shit. He used to talk to my mother like she was garbage, get drunk and beat on her. Everything was always her fault. I grew up scared of him and his temper.” She hated that she could still smell the alcohol and feel his angry, hot breath as he yelled in her face.

  “When I was about ten, they got into a fight, and that time my mother hit him hard enough with a cup that it cut his face. There was blood all over the kitchen. I was under the table, trying to stay out of the way, and I was filled with such helpless anger. I wished he was dead. I—I didn’t realize that my hand was in som
e of his blood. I felt something rush out of me, like a breath, but hotter. It hit him, and he started choking. My mother screamed at me to go get help, that he was having a heart attack or something.”

  “I ran out into the streets, but I didn’t get help. I hid for hours. I wanted him to die, and by the time I got home, they were taking the body away. My grandmother took one look at me, and she knew. She never said anything, but she started teaching me about the family history and the power in our blood after that.”

  Kon tilted his head, eyes far away like he was picturing it. “You regret it?”

  “No,” Iz said honestly. “My mother loved the asshole, so she took it badly. Never really recovered. She was sad, but he would’ve killed her one day. I don’t doubt that for a second.”

  Kon nodded and passed her back the deck. “They don’t feel like they are cursed. Their energy has always felt layered to me, but I figure that’s a result of so many hands that they have gone through.”

  “Okay, then explain this.” Iz shuffled, turned a card: Death. Fire. Alchemical Children. She did it over and over. Pulled the cards out of the deck and did it again. “So? Explain that if it’s not a curse.”

  “They aren’t cursed. They are feeding off your psychic energy, and your magic is reacting to show you the cards that you want or need to see. I take it Fire is destruction and rebirth?” Iz nodded. “What’s with these children in a bottle? They look alchemical, like little homunculi.”

  “Like what?”

  “Homunculi. They were the alchemist’s idea of creating artificial life in a lab. Wouldn’t they love to know that scientists are still working hard at it and succeeding?” Kon replied.

  Iz shook her head. “Interesting, but that bears no relevance to the deck or me. I’ve always read that card as being careful not to contain your playful inner child. These cards didn’t exactly come with a guide. My grandmother gave them to me on her death bed and said I had to discover what they meant to me.”

  “Okay, inner children, wonder, whatever. Now my question is, why Death? In tarot, it’s rarely an actual death, but this is your deck,” he said, and seeing her hesitation, he narrowed his eyes. “What aren’t you telling me, Iz? Is it really an actual death or a death of a part of you? What does it mean to—”

  “It’s Silas, okay?” Iz whispered under her breath. “I call him Death.”

  Kon’s frown deepened. “You’re still holding back.”

  Iz looked over her shoulder to see where Julian was before turning back to Kon. “So, um, we kind of hooked up a few days ago…and this morning. But I swear if you tell Athena, I’ll curse you to never get an erection again.”

  Kon had the nerve to laugh at her. “Would it make you feel better if I told you that Athena thinks you two are already fucking? Or that you should be at least.”

  “What? No, that doesn’t make me feel better. It means she’s biding her time to kill me.”

  “Does Athena strike you as the type to wait to kill someone if she wants them dead?” Kon asked, his smile softening at just thinking about his murderous lover. “Look, worry about it when we get back from Russia. Your cards might settle and stop reacting if you leave them for a bit. If your magic is growing because you’re tapping into it more, then we need to look into that too. How are your exercises going?”

  “Poorly. I haven’t been able to get a decent spark on my own yet.”

  “Show me.”

  Iz held out her hand and went through the motions. Nothing happened. Kon adjusted her pinkie to tuck it in more. “Again.”

  Iz felt the change instantly, the quickening of heat, and a small flame appeared in her palm before winking out just as quickly.

  “Did you see that?” she said excitedly.

  “Yeah, I did. You can’t let your form go sloppy after you have created it. So much of magic is precision and repetition. Your family comes from ritual magic, so you need to stick with that for maximum strength, but make it your own.”

  “I’m trying. Maybe I don’t have as much as my ancestors, and a spark is all I’m capable of.”

  Kon shook his head. “I can feel your magic. It’s pulsating off you. You just need to find the thing to help you unleash it. Start small and no lazy pinkies.”

  Iz laughed. “No lazy pinkies.”

  “Now, show me again.”

  11

  Silas sat in between Izabella and Dante in the helicopter, watching the freezing gray sky around them.

  Once he had said yes to Athena to go to Russia, it was on. They had packed and prepped to leave the following day, and Silas had fought not to back out every minute since.

  Izabella had booked them the eight-hour flights on a charter plane to get them to Tyumen. They had hired a helicopter pilot to take them out to Pokrovskoye.

  It felt too much like twenty years ago; an afternoon flight with a team of killers, the snow falling, and his toes already cold in his boots. Dante was sleeping, half leaning on Leo, who had his eyes glued to his laptop.

  Opposite him, Athena looked deceptively calm. Checked out calm.

  Kon and Izabella were talking about magic, filling the tense silence.

  “My ancestors were Basque. A few were even killed in the witch trials,” Izabella was saying.

  Athena stirred. “Iz inherited all the really good curses from them. She kept offering to put one on you for me.”

  Kon looked at Athena with heat in his eyes. “You were going to curse me, güzelim?”

  “I thought about it when you were being a jerk,” she replied, taking out a knife to flick between her fingers.

  As much as their foreplay disturbed Silas, it was better than the blank, empty look she had moments before.

  Where no one could see, Izabella’s fingers reached out and stroked the side of his wrist in silent comfort and reassurance. Silas shifted the jacket on his lap to hide their hands so he could take hers properly. His anxiety lowered a little, and he wanted to drag her onto his lap and hold her close.

  After everything you’ve been through, you’re scared of an abandoned place?

  It wasn’t like twenty years ago. They weren’t flying into a slaughter. They were going to a snowy bit of forest. He still didn’t want to take any of them there.

  Maybe going after Gadal was a pointless and stupid thing to do. They should’ve all retired to some tropical island, where he could’ve watched Izabella in a bikini all day.

  As much as Silas liked the visual that formed in his brain, he knew it was a lie. Gadal wasn’t going to let them get away with killing Liddell, and he would come for Athena eventually. It was better to not have the threat of him hanging over all of their heads. Over Izabella’s head.

  He ran his thumb over the soft inside of her wrist. He should have insisted that she stay in Istanbul. He knew she could handle a fight, but it didn’t mean he wanted her in one. He didn’t want her to see him lose his shit over an empty forest. She was too good for this shit and was definitely too good for him.

  Now that he knew she reciprocated the pent-up feelings he had been having, he couldn’t walk away even if it would keep her safer.

  You are the biggest fucking bastard.

  He knew it, and it didn’t change a goddamn thing. He closed his eyes and rested his head back.

  “Deep breaths, Jefe. It will be over soon,” Izabella said so softly he could barely hear her. “Think happy thoughts.”

  “Like a beach and cocktails? Already there,” he replied, opening one eye and grinning. “Three words. Tiny red bikini.”

  Izabella’s lips twitched. “I’m sure it will look great on you.”

  “I’ll buy you one to match, Bella.”

  She laughed, and then her mouth popped open. “You just called me Bella.”

  “I did. It’s better than Iz…and it’s true.”

  Athena stuck her leg out and poked Silas in the knee. “Hey! What did you just say to her to make her go red like that? I didn’t know Iz could blush.”

  “I’m
hot from this cabin,” Izabella said, loosening her scarf. Athena’s eyes narrowed, but they were interrupted by the pilot.

  “We are close. I’m going to look for a spot to land,” he said.

  Silas forced his body not to lock up. Athena’s eyes had gone glassy again. He shared a look with Kon. The Basty was already on it, his arm going around her shoulders.

  They landed in a snowy field on the edge of a forest. It was halfway between Shchuch’ya and Pokrovskoye, on a deep bend of the Tura River.

  Silas stepped out of the helicopter and tried to get his bearings as to where the site could’ve been. He didn’t imagine that Gadal would’ve left too much evidence behind. The bodies would have had to be taken care of for a start. The site had been burning, so with any luck, there might be some evidence of that.

  “Okay, spread out and let’s have a look around,” he said as the others joined him. “We only have an hour or two of sunlight left, and I don’t want to linger.”

  Behind him, Izabella sucked in a breath. “Fuck, Kon, can you feel that? I haven’t sensed them in years, not since my grandmother used to take me out to the cemeteries to meditate.”

  “What is it?” Silas asked, hand drifting to his gun.

  “The dead,” Izabella whispered.

  Kon nodded. “And a fuck ton of magic. It’s old, and I can still feel the echoes of it.”

  “Boss! Over here,” Dante called from near the forest line. He was crouched down, clearing snow away with his gloves. Silas’s stomach clenched when he got closer and saw what had got his attention. It was a blackened skull.

  “I thought it was a rock until I saw the ash marks,” Dante said, his breath misting in front of him.

  “There’s another one over here,” Leo called.

  “Fucking hell. He didn’t even bother to bury the bodies, just walked away. It doesn’t make sense. No one is that untouchable.” Silas ran a hand over his face to brush the snow off. “The locals didn’t even come and cover it up.”

  “They might not know about it,” Dante replied. “This place gives me the creeps.”

  “Me too. Keep your guard up.” Silas turned to see where the others had gotten to. “Where’s Athena?” Kon and Iz were crouched down, their hands on the snow, eyes closed. Silas hurried over to them, Leo and Dante on his heels. “Hey, where the fuck is Cub?”