by Trisha Telep
“I can smell her, Apprentice.” The last word was spat with venom, his voice low and guttural. “I could take her now, but I must admit, I’m enjoying the game. It’s always entertaining to toy with someone who thinks they stand a chance of winning. Besides, you can’t be with her every minute.”
The blood pumped through my body with extraordinary speed, and I looked up at Asher, wondering what he would do.
The answer was nothing. He only gave a small shake of his head as if to say no.
Bael remained a moment longer as if reveling in our predicament. Then his boots fell on the hard ground once again, growing farther and farther away until there was only my breath mingled with the muffled beat of Asher’s heart.
***
“I want to go home.” I willed my voice steady, aiming the words at Asher’s back.
“It would be foolish to do so now.” He prodded the logs with an iron poker, his voice partially lost in the quickening flame of the fire.
After making our way carefully out of town, Asher had brought me to a cottage at the edge of an empty field. It had seemed desolate at first glance. Abandoned. But once inside, it was surprisingly comfortable, though very small. The rugs blanketing the floors were similar to the ones in my own fire-damaged home, the ancient furniture covered with worn blankets and tapestries.
Asher stood, rising to his full height, and I realized that he was quite tall. His shoulders strained at the fabric of his shirt, and I had a moment’s memory of my face pressed against his muscled chest, the scent of him nearly as distracting as Bael’s footsteps in the alley. A ripple of excitement passed through me.
“I have been sleeping at home since the fire.” I said, lifting my chin with conviction.
“Perhaps.” Asher grabbed a rag from the mantle, wiping his hands on it as he spoke. “But that does not mean it wasn’t foolish. You have only lived this long because Bael thought you had died in the fire. Now that he knows you’re alive, he will come for you. Even more so now that he knows you are under my protection.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, looking away as the truth of his words rang through my mind. It had been an unnecessary risk to remain in my home, despite my precautions to go unseen. But it was all I had left. My parents were gone, the servants released the day after the fire. My home, crumbling and sooty though it may be, was the only thing that remained of my other life. A life I knew I would never lead again.
Still, I recognized the facts. It would be impossible to destroy Bael if he killed me first.
“Fine.” I turned back to Asher, meeting his eyes. “I’ll go back one last time to pack my things before taking a room in town.”
Asher sighed, setting the rag back on the mantle before turning to look at me. “You cannot go back now, in the dark, and none of the lower-profile inns and boarding houses are fit for an unescorted young woman.”
“That is all well and good,” I snapped. “But I need to gather my things, and I’ve nowhere else to go.”
My voice cracked at the end, and tears stung my eyes. I forced myself to blink them away, hoping Asher had not seen them.
He crossed the room, stopping in front of me. “If I promise to go with you tomorrow to gather your things, will you agree to stay here until my business is done?”
“Here? In your home?” It seemed scandalous even in light of the situation.
“It is not my home, exactly. I’m only renting it until I am finished here.” He nodded slowly. “But yes. Here. In this house. I realize it is not proper by your standards, but who is to see?” He looked around the room, glancing back at me with a shrug. “There is no one here but you and me, and I don’t plan to tell anyone.”
I looked around the room. “But ... where will I sleep?”
“Under the circumstances, I think it best that we stick together in case Bael reconsiders and comes after you tonight.” He gestures to the sofa in front of the fire. “You sleep here. I’ll take the floor.”
It did not take long to consider the offer. The room was very warm, and it would be a lie to deny that Asher’s presence was reassuring.
“All right,” I said.
His nod was almost imperceptible, but he moved to a trunk against the wall, removing a stack of blankets from its interior to create a makeshift bed on the sofa. A few minutes later, I lay atop it with my head on a musty-smelling pillow, while Asher settled onto the floor next to me.
I told myself he was only protecting me, as was the task of any Assassin.
And besides, I thought, he’s right. It would be foolish to risk my safety in the dark of night when a more practical option is available. I’ll simply take advantage of his protection right now, and then I’ll go after Bael myself, just as I planned.
I made argument after argument in the hallows of my mind. It all made perfect sense. But with Asher’s steady breath so near and my own heart beating like a drum, I knew it for the lie it was. We approached the house cautiously, doubling back several times to ensure that we were not being followed. I heeded Asher’s every instruction, allowing him to take the lead as we made our way to the only home I had ever known.
***
The home that would no longer be mine.
It was not as I remembered it. After the fire, I avoided it until nightfall when I was forced to find a place to sleep. Shrouded in darkness with a small fire crackling in the grate of the parlor, it had seemed only slightly shabby. I had slept amid layers of blankets piled before the firebox and had forced from mind the soot staining the walls. The smell of smoke that hung in the rooms like a ghost.
But now, in the harsh light of day and with Asher by my side, I was forced to confront the full measure of the destruction wrought by Bael. As we climbed the steps to the front door, I avoided looking into the yawning emptiness of the windows above. I did not wish to remember the things that had happened in the rooms beyond.
I pushed open the massive front door, and we stepped across the threshold into the entry. I did not linger. The terror and loss of the great house seemed to reach out to me from the soot-blackened walls, and I suddenly wanted nothing more than to leave as quickly as possible.
Asher followed me into the parlor, stepping carefully, as if aware that every floorboard, every piece of carpet, held precious memories.
“I’ll just be a minute.” I headed for the valise on the floor, knowing that everything I could salvage would be there where I left it. I had always been prepared for a quick getaway.
“Take your time.” I did not turn to look at him when he said it, but I was surprised by the gentleness in his voice.
It took only a moment to pack my meager belongings. The shawl Father brought back from India for Mother. The ivory comb he’d given me. The brush and mirror set that had been my grandmother’s, and the few items of clothing I had pulled from the wardrobe in my chamber when preparing for the flight I always knew would be necessary.
I closed the valise, marveling that everything I owned could be contained in the small click of its latch. Straightening with the bag in hand, I took a last look around the room.
“Tell me.” Asher’s voice was soft, and when I looked up, I saw that he was leaning against the wall on the far side of the room, his eyes dark and unreadable.
“Tell you what?”
He tipped his head into the room. “Tell me what you see.”
I swallowed with difficulty, shaking my head.
“It will help you remember.”
Licking my lips, I looked around the room, taking it all in for the last time. “I see the piano in the corner where Mother played when I would sing. I was never in key, but she never seemed to mind.”
“Go on,” he said.
I pointed to a chair near the fire. “That was where Father would sit, smoking his pipe while Mother attended to her needle-work. She didn’t like the smell, but it gave him so much pleasure that she rarely complained.”
“And what about you?”
I looked away from the ch
air, meeting Asher’s penetrating gaze. “What about me?”
“What would you be doing? When your father was smoking and your mother sewing?”
I looked back to the chairs, seeing my parents as clearly as if they were really in front of us. Seeing myself, too. “I would be reading. Something from the library.”
He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as if he could see it all in the moment before he looked back at me. “What else? What else do you see, Rose?”
I was surprised to hear him speak my given name. It was a caress on his lips.
“I see Father and me playing chess. I see him teaching me.”
The silence lengthened between us, and he pushed off from the wall, crossing the room toward me. “Teaching you what?”
I watched the ghost Rose with her father. Saw him point out the obvious moves. And the not so obvious ones.
“Teaching me about chess. About strategy. About life.” My words became softer as I said it. As I began to understand.
Asher nodded, taking a finger and tipping my face up so that he could look into my eyes. “That’s right. And because of that, he is with you. Will always be with you. As will your mother. You’ll carry them with you, Rose. You’ll see.”
For a moment, I was lost in his eyes. In the feel of his fingertips on my skin. The nearness of his body to mine.
Then I got my bearings, nodding and stepping away. “Thank you.” I did not look back as I headed for the door. “Now let’s leave, please.”
***
Asher threw another log on the fire as I tucked my clothes into the valise, trying not to feel self-conscious. My hair, loose and curling at my shoulders, was no longer bound by my hat. But that was not the worst of it.
The worst of it was that the men’s clothes I wore to track Bael were dirty. The only other outfit I’d managed to salvage from the fire was a gown—hardly proper, or comfortable, sleeping attire. My lack of choices had forced me to don the white cotton nightdress hand-sewn for me by Mother’s seamstress. As unseemly as it was, I was grateful I’d thought to pack it. Otherwise, I might very well be sleeping in nothing but a chemise, with mere feet between Asher and me.
It was odd being in the company of a young man, and with so few clothes, but these were, if nothing else, odd circumstances. There was nothing to be done about it. I tried to banish thoughts of Asher’s nearness and my own bare skin beneath the nightdress by focusing on the task ahead.
“Tomorrow, I must seek Bael and finish what he started.” I rose from my valise.
Asher stood, turning to me. His voice was full of tenderness. “Why don’t you let me handle Bael? It is what I was sent to do, and it is your right as a Descendant to have my protection.”
“Thank you, Asher. I ... Well, I am grateful for your offer. But this is something I must do. Vengeance for the death of my parents is a matter of honor. Surely, you understand that.”
He favored me with a hesitant nod. “But it is no vengeance if their only child is killed in the process. And make no mistake about it, Rose; you almost certainly will be killed. Bael is the worst of the remaining demons. You have seen that which he is capable.”
“Perhaps. But next time I will be ready for him. And I will not allow you to stop me.” Even to myself I sounded like a defiant child, determined but ultimately delusional.
To my surprise, Asher did not name my foolishness. He simply asked the only question that really mattered. “I assume you have a Blade?”
My hand dropped automatically to the sheath at my waist. I nodded.
He held out a hand. “May I?”
It was a bold request. Each family of Descendants was given only one Avenging Blade. My father had entrusted ours to me just before Bael’s entry into our home, and I was loathe to let it leave my hands.
Asher’s expression softened. “It’s all right. I have one of my own. See?” He reached for a belt around his waist, pulling something from its scabbard.
I knew what it was even from across the room. It did not shine in the minimal light of the fire, but I felt its power, a companion to the weapon still around my waist. I moved toward him without thinking, my eyes on the Blade in his hands.
“Do they give you one when you become an Apprentice?” I asked.
Asher nodded, holding the Blade in the flat of his palm.
I could not deny my curiosity. I knew Apprentices had to prove themselves before being elevated to full-fledged Assassins, but Father had never explained exactly how they went about it. I had never expected to meet one face-to-face, and though we trained and prepared for the possibility that the remaining demons would find us, deep down Father always believed the Assassins would eliminate the danger before we were forced to defend ourselves.
I continued to cross the room, coming to a stop in front of him. I looked down at the indecipherable symbols and words etched into the solid silver hilt and blade, surprised to see that they were slightly different from those on my family Blade.
“It’s beautiful.” The words came out in a breathy whisper. Without thinking, I reached out, running a finger along the engravings crisscrossing the weapon, feeling the dips and whorls of the ancient script.
Before I knew what had happened, my hand was encased in the iron grip of his fingers, the Blade back in its sheath. “You don’t touch an Assassin’s weapon without permission. Even you must know this.”
His face was mere inches from mine, the strange electric current pulsing between us as it had in the alley.
I straightened my back. “You are not an Assassin. Not yet.”
I saw a flash of fury in his eyes in the moment before he spoke. “Perhaps not. But I am closer than you. Killing Bael is not a task for a pampered Descendant, however much you might think you have prepared.”
It took effort to pull my arm from his grip. He seemed surprised by my strength.
I glared up at him. “We will see about that.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” I said, “that this is all talk until one of us kills Bael.”
He shook his head. “You are being utterly foolish, Rose. You’ll be killed.”
His lack of confidence in my ability and my need to avenge the death of my family only increased my determination. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. But either way, you cannot stop me.”
I spun around, stalking away from him. I didn’t know where I was going. The truth is, I had no place to go. I only knew that I needed to escape him. To escape his words and his gaze and the truth I did not want to hear.
But I did not get far.
A moment later, he was spinning me to face him. I expected him to shout. To tell me again all the reasons why I could not kill Bael.
Instead, his mouth was on mine before I could register what was happening.
I did not even consider resisting. His mouth, soft and firm, moved against mine, and then I was falling into light—spinning faster and faster toward the heat of a sun I could only feel, blazing at the center of my body. His hands found their way to the back of my neck, sliding into the hair cascading down my back. My mouth opened under his without a thought, a rosebud tightly bound and waiting only for this particular ray of light.
