The dome shifts, changes, around us, softening beneath my knee, lowering us both so that I can rest my other leg beside him. My senses kick into high gear, overwhelming sensation spiraling through me.
Cain’s lips become demanding against mine, his hands finding their way beneath my shirt, his touch burning across my waist, both hands wrapping around my torso beneath my breasts, holding me in a way that makes me want so much more. I can’t help but moan against his mouth, dragging his shirt upward so I can explore his chest and back. But … dammit … I have to stop kissing him if I want to take his shirt off, and if I stop kissing him…
Reality will come crashing back to me.
I don’t want reality. I don’t want to leave. I want to steal this moment and make it last forever.
As if he hears my thoughts, he whispers against my mouth, “Don’t go.”
I press my lips to his, capturing his next words, trying to keep them for myself.
“Stay with me,” he says. “I’ll fight any battle to have you in my life.”
I hold his declaration close to my heart, but I whisper, “Not if it kills you. That would break my heart, Cain.”
He releases my waist to brush the hair from my face, dropping kisses on my lips, maintaining contact, as he speaks. “Promise me you’ll stay until I’m Master. Give me time to figure out a solution.”
I groan with frustration. “It’s not just Slade. Lady Tirelli will target you as long as I’m here. She got to my father, she can get to you.”
He doesn’t allow me to pull back, pressing kisses against the corner of my lips, trailing them across my cheeks before he captures my gaze. “Lady Tirelli was already targeting me. She knows about the assassin’s world. She will continue to come after me—and Parker—even if you leave.”
I search his eyes, wanting to believe him, wanting any excuse to stay.
A gentle smile breaks across his face. “I’m safer if you’re watching my back—and Parker’s. As you found out on the first day, I can’t exactly count on my own people right now.”
His kisses trail to my ear and down the side of my neck, making it difficult to focus. Or to think, for that matter. He could ask me anything right now and I would say “Yes.” As his gaze flashes to mine for a moment, a dare glows in them, making me gasp.
“You were waiting for me to kiss you.”
He nods, nuzzling the soft spot beneath my ear. “I wanted you to choose me. Not because you were stuck here. Or because I gave you a gift. Or because of coffee and muffins in the morning…”
I squeeze my eyes closed. “Cain, I—”
He suddenly draws back from me with a frown, head tilted, glancing across to my right. “Someone’s calling me.”
Pain shoots through me. “You have to go.”
Instead of getting up, he kisses me, his hands stroking down my arms and back up to my shoulders. “We aren’t done here, Archer.”
His thumb brushes my cheek. “Promise me you’ll give me another day to sort this out.” His eyes meet mine. “I need you to stay.” Then a glimmer of a smile grows on his lips, making me want to kiss them again. “I’ll beg if I have to.”
I chomp my lip. “Don’t do that, Cain Carter.” I press my cheek against his, soaking up the sensation of his strong jaw next to mine. “I’ll stay. But the moment my presence here endangers you or Parker, I have to go.”
His hands graze my waist. “Thank you.”
He picks me up and places me on the ground. I hurry to tuck in my shirt and smooth my hair, but he grins at me, laughter on his lips. “Don’t worry about your clothing. They know what we were doing in here.”
My cheeks flame as his appreciative gaze runs the full length of me. But he is somber as he says, “Assassins don’t have normal relationships. We might train in a pack, but after that … we’re alone.”
His expression shifts, his assassin’s face stern and unforgiving as he turns his attention to the dome around us. With a simple wave of his hand, the shield around us disappears, revealing Brenna and two assassins waiting on the other side.
Brenna all but taps her foot. “Master, you have an urgent mission.”
Cain’s response is a single nod before he catches my eye. “Come with me, Grace.”
Brenna scowls as she follows Cain to one of the nearby buildings—a low one that reminds me of a school administration office.
Two men are waiting in the room when we arrive. They are both tall, muscular, dark-haired, multiple tattoos decorating their arms. They wear threat like a cloak around their bodies. There are no windows in this room, but both men gleam at their edges as if they are backlit with sunlight. Their gazes glide across me, landing on Cain as he strides behind the desk in the center of the room.
I stand to the side of the room, shoving my bags against the wall and choosing the furthest position from Brenna.
The silence is deafening as Cain sizes up the visitors. I can’t read anything in his expression while he wears the Master assassin’s mask, but a shiver runs to my toes. I would never want to oppose him. If it’s true that Slade could beat Cain, then I sure as hell never want to meet Slade.
Cain says to the men, “Why have you asked for me?”
The man on the right steps forward. “Our brother is being held hostage by a rival gang. The usual channels of justice … are not available to us.”
I consider the men carefully. It sounds like a gang war … not something I would want to get involved in.
Cain’s gaze narrows, his green eyes hard and glittering. “That wasn’t my question.”
The man swallows. “Our brother is being held by ten men, all heavily armed. You have killed as many as five on a mission. You are the only Horde assassin who has a chance to bring him back alive.”
Cain unfolds his arms. His expression reveals nothing as he reaches for the large book on the table, turns it to face the men, and opens it. He holds out a pen.
The man who spoke lets out the breath he was holding, takes the pen, and swiftly writes in the book. I crane my neck to see what he’s writing. It looks like names—ten of them—then a monetary amount, a mention about his brother, an address, and then the man signs his own name. He places the pen carefully in the middle of the book when he’s done.
Cain swivels the book and countersigns.
He says, “You have written in my ledger, but it’s the Guardian’s choice whether to sanction the mission. Your brother’s life is in her hands for now. If her writing glows golden, the mission is sanctioned. If blue, it is not.”
When the word “Sanctioned” appears on the page in glowing golden script, I glance at the men, but I suddenly realize that nobody else is looking at the words except Cain. Their focus is on the glow above the pages. Brenna blinks at the glow and looks away, rubbing her forehead as if it gives her a headache.
Cain says to the men, “Now your brother’s life is in my hands.”
As soon as the visitors leave, Cain spins to Brenna and the other assassins. All he says is, “Weapons.”
Brenna nods. “Ready in ten minutes.” She spins on her heels and strides away with the other two assassins. Cain turns to the book as I reach his side, but I place my hand over his before he can close it.
The names on the page are like a deadly threat. “Ten.”
He pauses beside me, his voice lowering. “It’s not impossible.”
I swing to him, taking his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “I don’t like it, Cain. I don’t like … them.”
He searches my eyes. “What is it?”
I suddenly wish he would call me “Archer,” because Archer is the fighter who knows when to trust her instincts. Archer knows how to shoot a gun. Grace reads books and inhales Cain’s kisses like air she needs to breathe.
“They didn’t look right.”
“What do you mean?”
I chew my lip. “I see it sometimes, and I guess now I’m wondering if it’s magic. People sometimes have this … glow around them—it�
��s like looking into sunlight. I always thought it was a trick of the light, but there are no windows in here.”
He stares at me, his hands freezing on my shoulders. “You saw that?”
“What is it?”
“It’s called an aura. All magical beings have them. Those men are wolf shifters: Gray Wolves. They’re enemies of the Jaguars. Their turf war has been going on for decades. But … you shouldn’t be able to see their auras.”
“Why not?”
“Humans can’t. Only other magical beings can.”
I swallow, try to smile. “But you can.”
He lifts his hand. “I have this.”
It’s his assassin’s ring.
I shuffle backward, drawing away from him, confusion swamping me. “I don’t know...”
He studies me, suddenly cautious. “You see through blurs and you see auras… Can you do something for me, please, Grace? Tell me what this says?”
He points to the open ledger, his forefinger pressed next to the address on the page.
I stare at it. Then at him. I remember how nobody else looked at it. I read out the address in a rush. Then I say, “I’m not supposed to be able to read that, am I?”
He is frozen beside me. “Nobody can read a ledger except the client who writes in it and the assassin to whom it belongs. Everyone else sees squiggles.”
“I don’t … have answers for you.”
Fear is a deep pit in my stomach. I don’t understand many things about myself. I don’t understand why I’m calm when I hold a weapon, as if I’m channeling instincts I don’t have access to at any other time. I don’t understand why I check out afterward. I don’t understand why I can see through blurs, and I sure as hell don’t know why I can see auras.
Cain closes the gap, searching my face like he’s digging for explanations and coming up empty-handed. “You’re human. You don’t have an aura. None at all.”
I lay my hand on his arm, my concern for him overshadowing my confusion. “Let me come with you today. I don’t know why I can read your ledger—or how I can see auras. But my instincts tell me you need backup.”
He grimaces. “You’re not wrong.”
He moves to a cabinet at the side of the room, pulls open a drawer, and lifts out a wad of folders. He places them on the table and opens them one by one. “Usually, the Guardian sends us all of the information she has on a target, but I don’t have time to wait for it. In this case, I already know what I’m dealing with.”
I can barely look at the images that confront me in each of the folders, all the victims, the violence, evidence in the form of statements and photographs, all of it attributed to the names in the ledger.
Cain says, “Jaguars don’t usually gather in packs, but these guys have learned that there is strength in numbers. Each crime is worse than the last.” His fists clench. “I’ve been waiting for someone to write their names in my ledger.”
I spin to him, my fear for him escalating because of the evidence. “But not all at once. Is there any rule that says I can’t help?”
He considers my question. “The Assassin’s Code is very specific. The first rule is that assassins don’t kill each other. To break that means death. But that isn’t relevant here.
“The second rule is that all assassinations must be sanctioned by the Guardian. No problems there, either. The third rule is that collateral damage is unacceptable, but again, that only applies to me, not you. The only rule that affects you is the fifth. Which you already broke.”
He smiles suddenly. “Just don’t get between me and someone I’m gunning for or you’ll break the fifth again.”
“I promise I won’t.” I give him a curious smile. “You skipped the fourth rule.”
“A failed assassination can’t be attempted again. That’s why Briar is safe now.”
I can’t help my sudden spark of hope. “So … if a Legion assassin tries to kill me and fails … then I’ll be safe?”
He shakes his head at me. “In your case, only Slade will try, and he … he won’t fail.”
I sigh. “Are there any other rules I should know about?”
He is somber. “The sixth rule is that an assassin must not interfere in an assassination. By bringing you here … I broke that rule. It’s what gives Slade the right to fight me. But the seventh rule is what keeps him out of my territory: A Master may not enter another Faction’s Realm without permission. The consequence is death.”
“In other words, he has to wait for his pound of flesh?”
“It would be nice if that was the end of it, but the Guardian is our arbiter. She makes sure nobody breaks the rules. Which is why, if I don’t stop interfering, she will sanction Slade to travel here.”
I swallow. “Well, now that I’m schooled up on all the rules, I think I can say with certainty that I won’t break any of them by coming with you today.”
“Okay, then.” His gaze sweeps me in a way that gives me goosebumps.
He says, “Let’s find you a protective suit.”
14
Juliet arrives at Cain’s quarters carrying multiple suits in different sizes for me to try on.
Cain gives me a brief smile after he ushers her inside. “I adjusted the shields to let her through.”
Juliet is wide-eyed as she glances around the room. She attempts to splay her arms while juggling the clothing. “It’s an honor, Master.”
Cain hides a smile and heads to the master bedroom to get ready, closing the door behind him.
I turn back to Juliet. “I take it Novices never visit the Master’s quarters.”
“We aren’t allowed inside the Cathedral until we become Superiors. I don’t know why the Master made an exception.”
I consider her. “Because I trust you. And Cain trusts me.”
She clears her throat, turning to business. “You should try these on for size. The suit needs to fit you like a glove or it won’t protect you. I can help you pull it on.”
I remove my jeans and t-shirt in the living area, allowing her to help me shimmy into the first suit—too big. But the next one fits much better. She shows me how to do up the hidden clasps at the side. Then she asks if she can braid my hair.
I check myself in the mirror when we’re done. My hair is tied back in tight braids, leading into a single braid that rests across my shoulder. I’m amazed at the effect the suit has on my appearance. All my curves and muscles are suddenly emphasized—more feminine, but also more dangerous. We even have gloves so we don’t leave fingerprints.
Juliet gives me a broad smile. “You should be an assassin.”
I hide my smile. “Hmm.”
Cain appears in the doorway, dressed in his own suit, the dark material hugging every powerful muscle, his height and strength accentuated, his eyes glittering. His personal daggers disappear into holsters he wears around his body. There are many empty spots for more. An appreciative smile grows on his face as he looks me over.
He says, “Thank you, Juliet. Don’t tell anyone about this, please.”
“I understand.” She leans in to me before she disappears. “Give them hell, Mistress.”
The door closes behind her.
Cain says, “Brenna will have the weapons waiting in the entrance, but she can’t know you’re coming with me. We’ll leave through the exit on the other side of the Realm. You need to stay out of sight until then.”
“I will.” I follow him outside and down the stairs, walking at a prowl.
When we reach the lowest level, he places his hand on my arm, signaling for me to stay put.
Voices reach us from the entranceway.
Brenna demands, “What are you doing here, Novice?”
Juliet’s reply is confident. “The Master requested my presence.”
“I know that already or you would be a pile of ash. Answer my question!”
There’s a pause. I picture Juliet rising up to her full five foot four inches. “If he has chosen not to share his plans with you, then it�
��s not my place to speak.”
“Insolent!”
Slap.
My eyes widen. Cain shakes his head at me, a finger raised, mouthing: Wait.
Juliet’s voice is filled with threat. “You will not touch me again, Superior.”
Brenna hisses, “I’ll hit you as much as I want, runt.”
Thud.
Thud-thud.
Then silence. I need to get out there. I won’t allow Juliet to be bullied by that bitch.
Cain reads my mind. He gestures sternly for me to stay where I am as he strides around the corner.
I risk a glance, my eyes widening at what I see.
The two male assassins lie on the ground. Both are out cold. Brenna’s face is planted on the floor while Juliet wrenches her arm backward, using a knee to pin Brenna down. Juliet quickly follows through with a hit to Brenna’s face, knocking her out.
She drops Brenna’s arm and stands to attention as Cain approaches. “Master.”
He gives her a nod. “Juliet.”
Juliet stands guard over the prone assassins while Cain opens the trunk that sits at the side of the corridor. He pulls out guns and daggers, which he holsters around his body. Then he produces another holster, a smaller one, into which he slips extra daggers and guns. He brings that one to me, fitting it securely around my body, his hands resting on my sides when he’s done.
“One more thing…” He heads back to the box and returns with two semi-automatic machine guns.
In the distance, Juliet spins on her heels, leaving Brenna and her guys on the floor while Cain and I disappear out the back entrance before they revive.
The door opens into a hanger containing two helicopters and multiple SUVs and motorcycles. We take one of the SUVs, an innocuous-looking one with tinted windows.
Cain surprises me by driving like a demon through the streets of Austin. He side-eyes me at one point, saying, “This is why I have drivers. I should have warned you not to get in a vehicle with me behind the wheel.”
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