by Everly Frost
Tansy blinks rapidly, shaking herself a little. She appears uncertain for a brief moment, swallowing and clearing her throat, but she hides it quickly. She lifts her chin, confident again as she says, “It is done. Do you want to test the spell?”
Cain nods. “Sure.”
Tansy inclines her head at me, a glimmer of challenge lighting up her olive green eyes. “Perhaps Hunter will assist by trying to take one of the knives?”
Perhaps I can.
Curiosity compels me to leap out of my chair and sidestep Cain. I make a grab for the hilt of the nearest knife. As soon as I touch it, the dagger zips out of my fingertips and flies toward my face. I recoil but it follows me with every backward step until I press against the wall, the dagger’s tip stopping an inch from my right eye, seconds away from impaling me.
Cain plucks the weapon out of the air and slides it safely into his pocket.
I mouth a ‘thanks’ to him.
His lips compress as he pockets the other weapons. I’ve seen that look on his face enough to know that the way the dagger reacted concerns him. He must be reconsidering the warning Tansy gave him.
He asks her, “Will these weapons kill someone who tries to take them?”
A satisfied smile rests on Tansy’s lips. It occurs to me that she wanted to test how strong the spell was. If anyone could get past it, it would be me. Now she knows it’s rock solid.
“Don’t worry, they won’t hurt anyone. But it will be a nasty shock when the dagger turns on them. The more they try to take it, the faster the knife will jab at them.” She challenges me with a smile. “I wonder if Hunter will give it another try for us?”
“Not on your life.” I’ve recovered enough from the surprise to grin at Cain. “I think you can rest assured that nobody will tuck these weapons into their bodice in future.”
He snorts and the tension eases.
When we exit Tansy’s house, Cain tells me to stay safe and rest. “Lady Tirelli won’t be happy that she failed yesterday. But we’ll make sure she continues to fail.”
I lay a hand on his arm before he can leave, sensing his muscles flex in surprise beneath my touch. There was never any romantic attraction between us, but I don’t often cross this line. I’ve chosen to touch him now because I need his full attention. “Cain, I know you want to help, but if your sister is threatened, promise me you’ll put her first. I know what it’s like to lose family. I don’t want that to happen to you.”
His gaze softens. “Parker is very important to me. Thank you, Hunter.”
After saying goodbye, I head back to the bookshop to focus on my next steps. Aside from resting, I have two missions now: one is to end the Tirelli brothers and the other is to find the Keres girl. Briar will help with finding the girl, and as for the brothers, three boxes of information have arrived from the Guardian filled with photographic and documentary evidence. Some of the crime scene photos… it’s difficult to look at them. I spread them out over my bed and force myself to consider the damage these three men have done since Patrick Ryan died.
I won’t let their violence continue.
For the next three weeks, I become a ghost in my own city.
Every morning I get up when the sun rises, blur myself, and jog around the streets of Boston like Mom and I did when I was younger. I run at a slow pace for the first week until I’m completely healed. No matter how hard I try to avoid it, I always end up outside the Boston Common near the Realm door that won’t open for me. Sometimes I sense Slade’s presence on the other side of the wall, an increasingly powerful force.
After my run each morning, I meet Ridley at the dojo where he and Drake take turns trying to beat me at whatever weapon they decide to focus on that day. Ridley brings me information about what’s happening inside the Legion, especially any missions that might impact on our goal of trapping Lady Tirelli. He tells me that Rowan, Brandon, and Lutz have been busy. So have Matthew and Thomas. Requests have been coming in from many who lost loved ones or whose loved ones are threatened because of the Tirelli’s actions.
After breakfast each day, Briar gives me her regular report and I sense her growing frustration when finding the Keres girl proves difficult. I’m not surprised. Mom hid the baby well enough to evade Lady Tirelli. We aren’t going to find her in a week.
I spend an hour each morning doing the only normal thing in my day: helping William in the shop. I actually learn how to use a cash register. He’s far better than me at interacting with the customers. I find myself constantly assessing them for threats, waiting for the scent of roses that was left by our unwelcome visitor the other day.
After lunch each day, I blur again, relentlessly tracking the movements of the Tirelli brothers. They have an efficient operation: Geno is the businessman who makes the deals, Vincent is the muscle, and Enric overseas drug production—he’s just as trigger-happy with his own people as he was with me.
Vlad maintains constant security on Saber Lane and Cain was true to his word—his people blend in. There are no more attacks and after a quiet week, I ask Cain to pull his people back.
At the start of the second week, Ridley arrives at the dojo looking troubled. When I ask him what’s wrong, he shakes it off, instead asking Drake whether he has a bow and arrows. It seems like Ridley is in the mood for target practice.
Drake obliges by setting up a target at one end of the dojo and telling me he doesn’t mind if I hit the wall by accident. The space is only just long enough for archery, but short of practicing on the street, Ridley says it will have to do.
I’ve used a crossbow before but never a bow and arrows. Ridley teaches me how to place my feet, nock the arrow, and release it. My first arrows fly wide, but the next few hit closer to the middle of the target. By the tenth try, I’m hitting the center.
Ridley remains deep in thought, breaking the silence only to give me instructions. I decide to push things a little when I ask, “Did you and Mom practice together?”
He gives me a quiet smile. “The bow and arrow was the only skill she needed my help with. In every other way, she excelled during training.”
I remember he told me she was a Novice in the year after him. “You were her teacher?”
“No. I was a first-year Superior then. I didn’t take up teaching until a few years later.”
I lower the bow for a moment. “She never taught me this. Maybe… she wanted you to teach me.”
He gives me a short nod, an almost-smile, the expression in his eyes deepening. I haven’t asked him much about his relationship with Mom. It seems hard for him to talk about it.
He says, “You’re a natural.”
I laugh. “Well, I’m glad, because she did give me the name ‘Glass Arrow.’”
His eyebrows knit together. Before I can take aim, he touches my arm. “I just remembered something… She gave me a message the last time I saw her. It was when she told me you were mine. I was in shock so I didn’t really hear what she said… but I remember it now.”
I put down the bow. “Dad?”
“She said… ‘tell Hunter that an archer needs an arrow.’” His frown deepens. “It didn’t make any sense to me at the time.”
I give him a light shake of my head. An archer needs an arrow? It seems obvious—what good is an archer without arrows?—but also very random. “Maybe it was her way of asking you to train me.”
“Maybe. Hunter… there’s something else…”
He pauses and I sense that what he wants to tell me is the thing that was troubling him when he arrived.
He says, “You should start following the Legion assassins.”
My eyebrows lift. “Why?”
“Just do it. It’s important.”
It’s a cryptic suggestion, but I take it seriously. The next day, I track Brandon Baker as he carries out a mission to kill a drug dealer. The day after that, I follow Rowan Robertson when he completes a mission to assassinate a corrupt businessman. Then I follow Lutz Logan, the brutal assassin who chooses
to kill with his hands. Their weapons are all marked with the Legion’s new identity: SL. Slade’s Legion.
Each of them says the same thing to their target before they dispatch them: “Be grateful I’m not Slade.”
It sends shudders down my spine.
By the time Lutz says it, I need answers. As he walks away from his mission, I materialize in front of him, making him jump. He is dressed in protective gear that conforms to his powerful figure. There was a time when his muscles were all for show but six months of hard training changed that. It changed a lot of things.
“Hunter?”
I raise my hand in a peaceful gesture and speak quickly. “I’m not interfering. I just want to know why you said that about Slade.”
Lutz’s gaze rakes me, a glimmer of his former arrogance visible through his carefully-guarded exterior. “You aren’t with him anymore, are you?”
I maintain my own blank expression, giving nothing of my emotions away. “I’m not.”
“Then you should know that he’s dangerous. To you and everyone else.”
“Why?”
He exhales. “I don’t know when it happened. Maybe the day you took all those bullets but now…” A muscle ticks in Lutz’s jaw as he clenches his teeth. “Slade seeks death at every opportunity. I never thought I would say this about any assassin but he is too good at what he does.”
I hide my shiver. “Explain, please.”
Lutz sighs. “Do you know why I kill with my hands?”
I shake my head.
He holds his big hands up at chest height, palms down, fingers splayed. They’re shaking, trembling hard, but he doesn’t try to hide it.
“I kill with my hands because when I take a life, I need it to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I don’t want it to be easy. A cold bullet, even a sharp dagger is too easy to dismiss.”
“Lutz…”
He squeezes his hands into fists. “Slade is like you now.”
My voice diminishes to a whisper. “What do you mean?”
He says, “Slade is a cold killer. He never stops. Barely sleeps. Four kills yesterday and three today. Me? I’m going to huddle over a strong drink and try to remember why I wanted to do this in the first place. There is no glory in this. Even if my target is the scum of the earth.”
Before he turns away, I grab his closed fist, sensing the tremble stop within my strong grasp. I lift up on my tip-toes and plant a kiss on his cheek. “I’m glad I didn’t rip off your balls, Lutz Logan.”
A glimmer of a smile touches his lips. A touch of charisma returns. He considers my lips for a moment, but he makes no move toward me. “Me too, Hunter.”
I watch him walk away before I blur again, my heart as cold as Slade’s kills.
At the end of the second week, I locate the secret warehouse where the Tirelli brothers conduct their business. Snippets of conversation from each of them over the course of the week tell me that the brothers have a situation they need to deal with on Friday of the third week. All three of them will be at the warehouse at the same time.
That day, I visit Tansy when I know Vlad is out, taking my protective suit to her. Without speaking, I point to the shoulders at the back of the suit. I can’t cut through the material myself but I need my wings to be able to emerge from it. Her gaze follows the line of my finger up to my face, scrutinizing me. Finally, she gives me a single nod and tells me to come back later.
The same day, an invitation arrives from Cain for the charity ball. The event is set for the evening on the same day that the Tirelli brothers will be at the warehouse.
It’s perfect timing.
I will end the brothers.
And then I will end the Lady.
Chapter Twenty-One
I slip on my glass ring in front of the mirror in my room. I’m wearing my modified protective gear, including a mask that is attached to the suit and rests at the back of my neck. I can pull it forward over my face to hide my identity. I’m also wearing gloves so I won’t leave fingerprints. A black evening dress hangs at the front of the closet behind me, a reminder of the ball tonight. The gold-embossed invitation from Cain sits on top of the chest of draws right next to the photo of Mom.
My hands remain steady as I step through my plan inside my mind. I intend to use all of the power at my disposal to kill the Tirelli brothers this morning.
I stride from the room, surprised to find William sitting at the kitchen table. It’s barely sunrise and the way his head rests on his hands, eyes half-closed, tells me he didn’t go to bed.
He raises his bleary eyes from the two books spread out in front of him. The Coda and the Vade are both open to the identical illustrations of the woman holding the babies. Scattered pages of scribbled notes surround the books, evidence of William’s continuing efforts to decode the image.
He blinks at me in the dim light. “I’ve discovered something, Hunter, but I don’t know what it means. Do you have time to talk?”
I’ve given myself plenty of time to get to the warehouse. “I do.”
“Do you remember when Tansy first met you and she was afraid? She quoted a passage from the Keres Coda that reads: Where the Valkyrie walks, darkness grows, paving the way for death with every step.”
Tansy was terrified of me that day. “It’s hard for me to forget.”
He makes an apologetic noise. “That phrase is repeated here—do you see the words in the folds of the woman’s dress? It also occurs in other parts of Coda and Vade, but it refers to the Valkyrie, which I previously interpreted to mean the Valkyrie race generally.” His forehead creases. “In this section it is more specific. It refers to a Valkyrie. Which makes me think… what if the phrase is about a particular Valkyrie, not about your race.”
He runs his finger along a specific fold of the woman’s clothing. “I now believe it is referring to a Valkyrie who has lost her way.”
A shiver runs through me. It could easily be talking about me. It is too easy to lose my way. I’ve stepped toward that edge time and time again. Only Mom’s last words have kept me from leaping off it. I can overcome it.
I push aside my fears as I lean forward to brush the page. The gold and silver draws me closer. “Have you figured out who this woman is?”
“I believe she is Nyx.”
“The mother of death?”
“According to the old tales. And these are her children: one Keres and one Valkyrie. Sisters.” He points to the feathers on either side of the babies. “I’ve also discovered a message written in each of the birth feathers. It says: Trust is shared.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I’m slowly piecing together parts of the message written along the woman’s arms. So far I have a lot of scattered words: riddle, royalty, adversary, a healer and more references to death and darkness… There’s even mention of a Realm in here. I don’t know how they fit together yet.”
He rubs his eyes, sighing through his fingers. “It’s taken me all week to decipher that much. But I’m close to understanding it. Maybe today…”
I place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You need to rest. I’m sorry I can’t help out in the shop this morning, but I can ask Tansy to come by.”
William reaches for me before I turn away. “Wait, Hunter. I need to tell you something else.”
His hand shakes on my arm. I feel it all the way through my protective suit. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
He says, “Anna didn’t burn your birth feather.”
I blink at him. Then I drag out a chair to take a seat, mostly because my legs don’t want to hold me up. “She told me that she did.”
He counters, “But not right away. She asked Tansy’s grandmother to help her first.”
My heart rate speeds up and I don’t like it. I can kill three men and not feel fear, but finding out about my past is like drinking poison. “This is what you argued about, isn’t it?”
He nods. “I told you that she did everything she could
to make sure you don’t have the same weakness she did.”
I stare at my hands, unable to stand the pity in his eyes. “My wings didn’t reveal themselves when I bonded.”
He says, “It’s because she bound your birth feather with a spell that put a lock on your wings during bonding. Then she burned your feather so there was no way to reverse the spell. I didn’t agree with her decision to do that. The same way I didn’t agree with her alliance with Patrick Ryan or her protection of his son, Archer. Over time, those disagreements festered between us. I lost Anna from my life because I couldn’t agree with her choices. But the consequences are worse for you, Hunter.”
I try to breathe. “Worse than not revealing my wings?”
His hand rattles against my arm. I slide my own over his to steady him.
He says, “You can never fully bond. It’s why you were able to separate from Slade when you did. If you had fully bonded, you would not have been able to fly away.”
Everything stops around me. “You’re telling me that I… can’t… bond.”
He says, “Not completely.”
I shake my head. “You’re wrong. I bonded. I did. I had to tell Slade the truth and it hurt when I left. It ripped me apart.”
“Because you love him.” He grips both my hands. “You partially bonded, which means you can’t lie to him, but it was your heart that did the rest.”
I try to pull away from William, but he’s surprisingly strong when he wants to be.
Unable to escape, I ask, “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because you left part of yourself on that mountain and I can’t stand to see you in pain. I made a mistake when I told Slade he didn’t deserve you. I pushed him further away from you. I can’t make up for that, but I can help you see the truth. You believe that you love Slade because you bonded with him. You think the choice was taken away from you. But the opposite is true. You bonded with him because you love him. Love came first.”
I always saw bonding as an involuntary burden, something to be feared. That was Mom’s experience and she passed that fear on to me. In a big way. But if William is telling the truth…
