by Auryn Hadley
Sal looked up and the man's eyes widened, seeing her pale skin.
"Oh, I can be beat, Nyurin," Cyno laughed, gesturing toward her. "Guys," he said, turning to the soldiers around them, "I'd like ta introduce Sergeant Luxx, my partner, and a member of the Black Blades."
"She's that iliri!" one of the soldiers muttered.
"I've been called worse," Sal said, acknowledging that she'd heard him. She shrugged.
"Sergeant," Nyurin assured her. "It's not a slur here. I grew up with your partner there, a few blocks over. I don't allow my men to disrespect iliri, never could tolerate it."
"Sal." Cyno moved to her side. "This is Lance Corporal Nyurin, he's in charge of the 97th Pikemen."
She nodded at the man, and he explained, "I asked Cyno if he'd teach my men some knife work. Short blades are all we get when our pikes fail us, and after hearing about your last mission and the way the Blades rode through the Imperial pikes up in that pass, I figured we could use some better ideas."
"He's the one to teach ya, that's for sure," Sal said. "He taught me."
"Damn," one of the men in the ranks whispered. "Means there's hope for me yet."
The others nodded in agreement, including a small group standing to the side. Sal tapped Cyno and nodded at them.
"Yeh, they've been watching," he said, shrugging it off.
"Showing off?"
He looked at her deviously and leaned against the wall. "A bit. It's encouraged, ya know. Na all the recruits understand quite what they are signin' up for."
Sal chuckled, realizing he was right. "Ok. Fair enough."
"That, and we keep trying to get the real stories out of him," one of the men said. "We all know the crap in the tabloids is exaggerated."
"Yeah, like we know you were in the pass, but what about the Escean warlords?" another asked. "Were you on that one?"
Cyno looked up at him and nodded. "Yeh, actually, that was Sal and I."
"Yeah, I heard the Blades took out six of them. What'd ya do, have snipers in or something?"
"Nah. Just Sal and I." Cyno said.
"Seriously?"
"We say she's like a demon possessed. It fits her pretty well, usually." Cyno laughed.
Sal pushed closer, positioning herself beneath the arm he rested on the balustrade. "What he doesn't tell you is that he matched me step for step."
"Yeah, but you got four, I only got two." he pointed out.
"No, the third one we both got," she reminded him. "You were a gentleman and let me have the last wounded one."
"Only cuz ya wounded him."
She had thrown her steel dagger into his chest while together they had slaughtered the leader. Deep in the bloodlust, Cyno had watched her kill the last man, and Sal would never forget the desires that had coursed through her that night.
"Well, that, and he did have my knife," she admitted, choosing her words carefully. "But the third one I think we have to share." Sal leaned her head on his shoulder as she spoke.
"Yeah. When ya do that, I can na disagree," he said wistfully.
She felt him shift, and leaned into him. He rested his arm on her shoulder, his thumb lightly caressing her bicep through her shirt.
"Ok guys," Nyurin said, glancing at Cyno, "We got drills, and the Blades' got the day off. Let's let them do something besides entertain us."
Cyno shot him a thankful look as his childhood friend all but ordered the men away. Sal turned into him and leaned her forearms against his chest, encouraging him to actually look at her.
"You hungry?" she asked, staring up into his eyes.
"Nah." A smile played on his lips. "Why? Whatcha thinking, Sal?"
"Oh, I just happen to have the day off."
"What about Blaec? Figured ya'd be with him."
"Nope, he and Arctic are handling the testing today."
"K. Whatcha wanna do? Seems ya scared off ma friends, so I'm free for a bit."
"Take me some place a bit more private?" she teased.
"Sal..." Cyno met her eyes before switching into her head. You sure?
I like spending time with you, she thought. Jase, just shut up and take me back to your place. I deserve a little time to screw around and do something besides be an officer.
She saw his eyes widen imperceptibly. Leaning against him, she could feel his heart beating faster, and knew it was fear, not excitement, causing the reaction.
Jase, she insisted. Look, you keep saying you'll teach me Iliran, right?
Yeh, he barely whispered the thought.
You saying you don't want to now? she asked, trying hard to read his expression.
He looked down and shook his head. It's na that, kitten. I just. I like seeing you like this, you know, happy and shit.
And teaching me is going to be that bad?
Nah. He reached up and ran his hand down the back of her neck, his finger trailing her braid down her back. I just do na know where I stand with ya, ya know? When I'm na in yer head, I do na always know how ya mean things.
Sal rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand, then tugged. Smiling shyly, nothing like the predator she knew him to be, he let her pull him away from the wall. His eyes were locked on their hands as he slowly caressed hers with his thumb. She knew he could read her thoughts through the contact. Then he shifted and draped his arm across her shoulders, turning her back to his room.
They walked in silence through the halls, the camaraderie between them no longer as perfect as it had once been. Ever since Yager's Crossing, something really had changed. They hadn't been in combat since, but it was more than that. She'd chosen Blaec.
When they reached Cyno's door, the one next to his opened, and Arctic walked out. The Black Blades had been given rooms side by side, only the Lieutenant staying in the officer's wing – and Sal was usually with him. Seeing the assassins together, the First Officer smiled.
"Hey Sal, nice to see ya slummin' it." he teased.
"Oh, bite me, Arctic," she joked back.
"Nope. Not my job." He laughed, waving before he turned and left. Sal just sighed.
Cyno shrugged it away and held the door to his place open, inviting her in. His rooms were anything but tidy. She looked around, oddly impressed with the clutter. Dozens of knifes and swords lay on every surface, their edges sharpened, their scabbards oiled, books stacked beside them.
"I woulda cleaned up a bit if I knew I was gonna have company." He shrugged, moving around the room and picking up discarded items, but none of it was the dirty clothing she expected.
"It's fine. I can't complain about a man who leaves his blades out," she assured him, throwing herself on a small couch in the room. Changing the subject, she asked, "Jase?"
"Yeh?"
"Why do you do this?"
"Do wha?" he asked, not looking at her.
"You're fine with me sometimes," she said, slipping off her boots. "You can stalk me through an army camp like it's no big deal. You're completely at ease with me when we're on a mission. Shit, Jase, you slipped into my head like you belonged there when we took out those warlords."
He looked over at her, his hands on the chair in front of him, but said nothing. Sal could see his knuckles were clenched too tight.
"During my trials, you avoided me. You watched me, but you never really talked to me. You're fine with me when there are others around. You're fine with me when we're killing something. Why don't you want to be alone with me, Jase?"
"I do," he whispered.
"But?"
He sighed, turned the chair, and sat in it, leaning his forearms against the back. "It's cuz I dunno what ta do, ya know? I wanna... Ayati. Sal, I wanna impress ya, and when we're not frenzied, I allus feel like I'm stickin' my foot in it. I am na good at this shit. I dunno when I've gone too far."
"I dunno, killer. I think you're...." Sal paused, looking for a way to describe it. "It's flattering, ya know? You, like this? I kinda like it. Jase? You're really sweet."
He laughed. "That's a new one."
"I mean it. I mean, you're lethal, we all know that. But underneath the assassin, there's a very sweet man. I like you, Jase. I like being with you."
"Yeh?" He raised his head, his eyes unable to meet hers. "You're confusing me, Sal. I'm part human," he told her. "I was raised iliri, but there's a little part a me that wants what a man wants. I can na stop it. I try ta keep it ta myself and all, but it's shit like this." He shrugged. "I can na stop it. I wanna see ya smile, Sal. I wanna make ya happy. Maast, kitten."
"This is what I mean," she said, running her hands through her hair in frustration. "I don't understand what I'm supposed to do, or when."
"What do ya mean?"
She gestured between them. "Us. I love Blaec, you know that, right?"
"Yeh," he growled softly.
"The bloodlust, it gets to us, and I know that, but you're not making any attempt to hide how you feel about me. I like you, Jase. I trust you, but you're my partner. I don't want to lose that."
He shrugged it off. "Yeh. We're good, Sal. So what are we doing?" he asked, changing the subject.
"You promised to teach me," she tilted her head at his chest, "that symbol."
He nodded, accepting that. "Here I was hoping that ya just wanted ta be locked away with me fer a few hours."
"Jase," she warned him gently.
"I was joking," he told her, his tone suddenly cold.
Sal looked at him pointedly. "You were going to explain to me why my name is over your heart."
He sighed, defeated, and nodded. "Truce?" he asked glancing up at her.
"I'm just trying to work it all out," she told him. "So yeah. You tell me when I've gone too far, and I'll do the same?"
"Fair 'nough," he whispered, climbing to his feet and walking across the room. He grabbed the closest book, and walked back to the couch Sal reclined on. "This will be easier if I sit next ta ya," he said meekly.
She sat up, making room for him, and Cyno sank into the cushions, passing her the book. Swirling lines decorated the front, similar yet different to the black marks across his body. Unlike his tattoos, these were in various shades of brilliant colors. Sal opened the cover and flipped through it. The writing did not flow in lines like anything she had seen before. Instead, it swirled across the page, smaller patterns branching from the larger, colors merging from one to the next.
"This is beautiful," she breathed, gently touching the page.
Cyno chuckled. "Yeh, and a lot more informative than Glish. The large lines, those are the main idea. The smaller lines support it." He tapped the largest. "In Glish, this would be the concept. I'm gonna make this simple, ok?"
Sal nodded, completely entranced.
"This is about some studies they did on us a while back. This," and his finger moved as he spoke, "says that iliran males choose their mates based on an instinctual attraction, due to their perception of her scent."
Sal glanced up at him, her ears turning back in annoyance. "I thought we were moving past this?"
"It's the book I had," he told her. "It's what it says." Sal nodded, and he continued. "That's what this page is about. These smaller thoughts, explain the main idea. Here," and he moved to the first branch, "it says that pair bonding is often stronger in iliri than in humans. The next," and his hand moved again, "points out that without the appeal of scent, iliran males become unable ta breed."
"What does that mean?" Sal asked.
"I thought we were talking about the writing, na the subject."
"I think we're talking about both now," Sal admitted.
Cyno growled softly in the back of his throat. "I shoulda chose a diff'rent book." He sighed, looking away. "It means we can na get it up unless a girl smells good."
"Is that just purebreds?"
He shook his head. "Nah, I dunno how much it takes ta work like that, but half or more, and yeah." He paused. "I never really asked Shift or Razor if it works the same fer them. Na really somethan we talk about."
She looked up at him. "I'm sorry. I don't want to make you feel like a specimen, ok? I just really don't know any of this."
"I know, kitten," he told her.
"So how does it work for women?"
"Ya wanna read, or wanna learn about yer species?"
"Both," Sal said, patting his leg.
"K. I can do that." He flipped back further in the book, glancing at pages quickly until he found the one he wanted. "Iliri females typically have less conscious understanding of the olfactory appeal of their mates, but scent appears ta still play a role. The scent of a male is balanced with his aggression and dominance to achieve his familial status."
Sal looked at him blankly. "Can you explain that?"
"Um," Cyno scratched at the short stubble on his head. "Ya may think a guy smells good, but he also has to kick some ass, and be the kind of man to help you lead the pack?"
"Is that why I'm so drawn to Blaec?"
He nodded. "Yeh. And it's why I will na even try ta..." he let the sentence die off. "Lemme na get ahead. It also says that females typically have two ta four mates, thus balancing the disproportion in the genders. Males rarely exhibit aggression between members of a female's harem." He closed the book, his finger marking the page, and met her eyes, waiting.
"Jase, I need a drink."
He chuckled and set the book aside. "Yeh, figured no one had told ya that part yet." Without looking back, he headed to the counter. "How strong ya want it, kitten?"
"Not too much. I have a feeling there's a few more revelations like that."
"Prolly."
He poured two full glasses and carried them back, passing one to Sal. She took a long gulp, her ears twitching slightly as she swallowed. Cyno waited until she paused for a breath before sitting at her side again.
"Ya good?"
"Yeah," Sal said. "This thing, with us and Blaec. It's normal?"
He nodded.
"Does he know?"
"Yeah."
"And he's ok with it all?"
Cyno reached over and brushed a wisp of hair away from her face. "We're good. He and I talked. He's yer first man, and we both know it. I'm yer partner, Sal, and if ya decide ta make me yer second, I will na say no."
She sighed and leaned back against the couch, looking at the ceiling. "So, you're not my second now?"
"Na. In Glish, it's a dalliance. I guess ya could say we had fun a few times, but that is all. Ya have na claimed me. Ya allus stop." He tilted his head a bit, looking at her from the corner of his eye. "I keep hoping, though."
"And you'd be happy as my second man?"
He shrugged. "Second man is a lot better than a dalliance, but stop thinkin' about it. Yer allus tryin' ta do the right thing. It does na work like that. You would na marry a man because someone told you it would be a good match, right?"
She laughed and finally looked at him, an embarrassed smile tugging at her lips. "No. I wouldn't."
"K. And ya should na choose yer second man because ya think ya owe me. These things take time, ok? Ya came here ta learn Iliran, na ta be lectured on my feelings."
She met his eyes and Cyno refused to look away, but his gaze held no challenge. He waited, his face serene, while Sal read every feature and nuance, her ears slowly drooping the longer she looked.
"You're in love with me, aren't you," she said softly.
He nodded. "Yeh."
"Jase..." she started, but he cut her off.
"I will na lie ta ya, kitten. I am in love with ya, and I would die fer ya. It's out there now, ok? I did na ask ya fer anything back. I never have, and I never will. That is a human thing."
Her white teeth closed on her lip as she nodded at him.
"Ya ready ta learn about the colors now?" he asked, grabbing the book again.
She couldn't help it; she smiled. He always made her feel so comfortable. The most lethal assassin in the country, but he understood her feelings better than she did herself. As Cyno lay the book across his lap, she reached up for his hand.
&n
bsp; "I'm trying to learn quickly. I don't have a clue what I'm supposed to do, or feel, or think, ok?"
"I know." His fingers closed around hers. "That is why I did na say anything. I'm na in a rush, ok? Yer my Kaisae, and my brother. I know that does na make sense ta ya yet, but it does ta me, and it's ok. We're good, Sal."
"I just don't want to do the wrong thing."
"I know," he said, looking at her hand. "Ya hit me with it ever' time ya touch me. We're good, kitten. Honest."
"Ok. Then tell me about the colors."
He did. "Iliran is written in emotion as well as facts." Pride crept into his voice. "Glish is na like this. Words are words and nothing more. In Iliran, the lines display the facts and the colors the feeling. So," he flipped the book open randomly, and pointed at a large section in green. "This is about our nutritional needs. Green means life, so ta me, this tells me that this is what we need ta survive." He moved to a smaller line. "And this is in purple, which is passion. It tells me that these things are preferred by our kind."
"Like how we can't survive on vegetables, but we dislike our meat cooked too much?"
"Exactly!" The praise was obvious in his voice.
She thought back to the pages about iliran mating habits. "What is white?"
"Love."
"Black?"
"Death."
"Red?"
"Anger."
"Why are all your tattoos in black?"
He grinned and set the book beside his drink. Slowly, he worked his buttons free. "They are my list of kills, the memorable ones. But they are na all in black." He opened his shirt, exposing his chest, and tapped her name sign. "Look closer."
She did. The ink of her name was a deep, dark blue, a faint white line edging each swirl and point. "What is blue?"
"Faith, or hope." He watched her face, his head tilting slowly to the side. "Should I explain ta ya why yer in blue?"
"Yeah. And I see the white."
"White is all love. Family love, the love of a friend, or simply the love of a thing. It's that warm feeling that brings a smile when ya think of something. Blue is faith or hope. It’s more than hoping that ya will get rich, or such. It's the kind of hope that's bigger than that. Faith. It's the belief that we can be more than the pets of humans, the hope that there's more than what we have now."
