by Nia Arthurs
“Do you need to close the door while you wash your hands?” I insist.
“Go take a walk around the perimeter or something,” Lelita yanks the door handle and slams it shut.
“Should we knock it down?” Damien asks.
“Let’s stick close. If we hear a scream, we go in.”
We press our ears to the door. Soft mumbles echo in the quiet space, but we make nothing out.
“You really want to listen don’t you,” Damien smirks.
“Yes.”
The whoosh of the water coming from a faucet is the only audible sound.
“Shoot,” Damien glances at me. His narrow eyes are made smaller by his irritation. “I can’t hear a thing!”
“What do you think they’re discussing in there?”
Damien whistles. “Do you think Lelita will spill about the…”
Discomfort rushes up my spine, but I feign disinterest. “Kendall will know sooner or later. I cannot hide the truth of our connection forever,”
“Wow,” Damien slaps me on the back and presses his cheek against the door. “You’re braver than I would be in your circumstance.”
“You don’t seem too concerned for me.”
“Oh no,” he grins. “Your downfall will create more space in Kendall’s heart for me.”
I grimace. “You joke too much, Damien.”
“Who says I’m joking?” he flips his collar. “I warned you. I care about her too.”
“You’ve barely known her a week,” I hiss.
“How long did you know her before you had feelings?”
Touché.
Without warning, the door bursts open. Both Damien and I tumble forward, landing in a heap in front of the girls.
I squeeze my eyes shut in embarrassment. We’ve been busted.
Chapter 11
Kendall
I am not afraid of Lelita.
Alright, I’m trying my best not to be afraid of Lelita.
She’s a female assassin who’s skilled in taking lives and healing them. The vibes I got from her when we were first introduced were not altogether positive.
She doesn’t like me. It’s quite obvious. But I don’t think her dislike extends to murdering me for no reason.
“Go take a walk around the perimeter or something,” Lelita instructs the two assassins.
“But––”
Whatever objections Alistair would have presented are cut off when Lelita slams the door solidly in his face.
“Was that necessary?”
“Yes,” she prances toward the sink and turns on the faucet.
Instead of staying beneath the showers and rinsing her hands, Lelita nods her head to the furthest corner.
“Come, let’s talk.”
“I’m not sure we have anything to talk about.”
Though the vibes I get from this girl aren’t I-want-to-kill-her vibes, they’re not sleepover-happy-time vibes either.
“I have something to discuss with you.” Lelita insists.
I sigh and waddle over to the bathroom shower where Alistair had gently held me while I cried earlier tonight.
Why do those events feel like they happened a year ago when they only occurred a few hours ago?
“What?”
Lelita’s lip curls at my tone. “How do you know, Alistair?”
I’m surprised by the question. I shouldn’t have been.
My intuition upon our first meeting was true. There’s something between Alistair and Lelita that the stubborn assassin refuses to tell me.
I fold my arms across my chest. “What does it matter?”
Lelita tucks a strand of straight hair behind her ear. She’s clearly mixed, so her hair could be relaxed or naturally straight.
I’m annoyed at her high-handed bossiness, but I would love to get some tips on how she tames her frizz.
“I wouldn’t bring it up if it doesn’t matter,” Lelita tilts her head to the side. “Will you answer me?”
I shrug. What would it hurt to tell her?
“We met at my work.”
“Where was that?”
Geez, this girl has zero chill.
“La Ruba International in Belize.”
“Belize? So that’s where he ran off to,” she murmurs.
“Excuse me?”
“What is the relationship between you two?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
This girl may be the daughter of a chief, used to people scurrying about to do her bid, but I’m a Creole girl.
That means, I don’t take smack from anybody as long as I can help it.
“Your refusal to answer me is just as telling,” Lelita says.
“Then I don’t see why I need to be here,” I turn away.
Lelita follows.
“You know he is no ordinary man?”
“Are we still talking about Alistair here or Damien? Seriously, it’s annoying. You assassin types and your parables. Can’t you talk straight for once?”
“Alistair, of course,” Lelita blinks matter-of-factly.
“Thanks for the tip, but he seems ordinary to me.”
Unless you count the whole assassin thing. And also the evil father thing. But apart from that, the guy is as regular as they come.
“Thanathus is the only man of his league to walk away from the Denouncing.”
“The Denouncing?”
My interest is piqued. I know so little about Alistair and his assassin history.
Now that I’m okay with certain parts of his past, I’d really like to know more.
Unfortunately, the stoic ex-mercenary isn’t too keen on sharing.
Lelita knows that she has me hooked. Her smile is victorious.
“The Denouncing is a sacred ceremony, done only when an appointed chief rescinds his position in the league.”
I shake my head. “Alistair didn’t give it up, he refused it.”
“Is that what he told you? You poor, naïve soul,” Lelita grins. “Alistair accepted the position.”
“But he said…”
“He was later challenged by the very man lying in that bed,” Lelita points to the door in the direction of the bedroom, “but his intent was to take on the responsibility as head of his league.”
The news stuns me. Alistair gave no indication that this was his initial response.
Lelita continues when she sees my confused expression. “He won the challenge because of his chief’s sacrifice. It was unprecedented. Alistair’s league was fully unified in their hatred of Maveth. The league was his for the taking.”
“But he didn’t want it.”
“No,” Lelita’s hazel eyes glitter in the light. “He chose the Denouncing instead, allowing five of the league’s strongest warriors to beat him within an inch of his life. Few survive, but fewer walk away from a Denouncing with the full support of their brothers.”
“I guess Alistair’s a big deal?”
“He is a legend.”
“Why are you telling me all of this?”
“Because…”
This is seriously a strange place for a ‘back-off-he’s-mine’ speech.
“Alistair’s league is waiting for his return. He cannot run from his destiny. He has been groomed for leadership in the league. It is his right and privilege.”
“Let me guess. You’re the woman that will remind him of his place and take him there.”
“It is my destiny.”
I scoff and tap my shoes against the floor. “Lady… first of all, you’re crazy. Second of all, if Alistair wants to be with you, he will.”
“I know he does,” she hisses. “But it seems he might be a bit distracted.”
“Because of me?”
She nods.
“Say I bought a word of this, what exactly were you hoping to accomplish?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
If it were obvious, I wouldn’t be asking.
When I said nothing, Lelita fills the gaps
. “I need you to reject him.”
“No thanks.”
She narrowed her eyes and I shrugged.
I like Alistair. We are a messed up, complicated pair, but I can’t help how I feel. I have never experienced this before and I am not about to give it up because a vicious female assassin says so.
“I thought you would say that.”
“Then why did you bother asking?” I grouse.
This conversation is quickly turning ridiculous. I brush past Lelita and slap the faucet off.
The world is going through a crisis and she is wasting water so the boys can’t hear her spouting nonsense.
I pull the door handle and jump back in fright when it swings faster than I’d expected.
“Oh!” someone moans in pain.
I glance down and hold a hand to my mouth. Alistair and Damien roll backward and land face-first at my feet.
It does not take much to deduce that they had been eavesdropping outside the door. Perhaps Lelita isn’t as crazy as I’d thought.
“What are you guys doing?”
Damien rushes to his feet and Alistair quickly follows.
“We were… um…”
Before they can come up with a suitable explanation, a looming shadow spreads over their sheepish faces.
I scream as the shadow step into the light.
Maveth!
Chapter 12
Alistair
Kendall’s scream pierces my ears. Damien and I wipe the grins from our faces and whirl around in time to spot the half-dead assassin.
Maveth lumbers closer. He holds a knife in his hands, but sways uncontrollably. Kendall’s screams cause him to grimace in pain.
He must still be suffering from the effects of the nightlock and x-erilin.
The dagger clatters to the ground and he soon follows its path. Maveth crashes to the floor.
Lelita rushes forward and checks his pulse. “I guess he’s getting better.”
I frown. “Why did no one tie him?”
“I did!” Damien insists.
Kendall raises her hand like a student in a classroom. A guilty expression stamps her features. I know what she is going to say before she utters the words.
“I might have untied him.”
“Why?”
“He looked so harmless and the ropes were getting in my way so I figured it wouldn’t hurt.”
I stride forward and grasp her shoulders. “Don’t underestimate anyone in this room and always be on your guard. No one is as harmless as they seem.”
“I got it,” she bows her head.
My arms wrap around her and I squeeze her tight to soften the sting of my words.
I need Kendall to heed my warnings, but I can no longer restrain my desire to hold her.
After all the near-death misses tonight, I want to glue Kendall to my side.
“He’s unconscious,” Lelita calls as she and Damien deposit Maveth back on the bed.
Damien returns the binds to Maveth’s wrists. I lead Kendall from the bathroom and check my watch.
It’s very late.
“Is there anything else you need us to do?” I ask the healer.
“I can handle everything,” Lelita says. She tilts her head and seems to think better of it. “On second thought, I could use a hand in case he becomes violent later.”
Her eyes train on mine, but I feel no inclinations to provide assistance. If I am left beside the vulnerable Maveth all night, I might be moved to slit his throat.
“Damien?”
“I’ve got it,” my friend waves us away. “Take Kendall into the next room.”
“I have my burner phone,” I say. “Call me if you need me.”
“Where are you going?” Damien inquires.
“We’ll be in the hotel.”
It is the only information I offer before taking Kendall’s hand and dragging her though the suite doors.
“Hey!” she protests.
I loosen my grip on her wrist, but she wrenches her hand completely from me.
“Where are we going?”
“Another room.”
“You’re going to pay for a completely new room?”
I nod.
“Why?”
“Why must you ask so many questions?”
“I’m okay,” she tries to hide her cast from me. “I really am. You don’t have to spend all your money…”
“I need you to be safe!” I blurt.
She blinks. “Damien is here. So is Lelita. I really don’t know what staying in another room will do.”
“It’s for me,” I slap my chest. “Maveth is smart. If he wakens and overpowers us, I want you out of sight.”
I can tell that Kendall had not considered this possibility. While she contemplates my words, I pull her toward the elevator.
The new room is secured at once. This time when I choose the room with only one suite she has no objections.
Whether the attitude is because she trusts me or because she fears Maveth, I cannot say. The night has been a long one. I am glad Kendall is not putting up a fuss.
She steps into the middle of the room and stretches. “I wish I’d thought to bring my nightgown.”
“I can get it for you,” I step toward the door.
I am surprised when a small brown hand pulls on my elbow. Kendall avoids my eyes and shuffles her feet.
“Don’t… please, don’t leave me alone.”
Her feeble request stirs something powerful in my heart.
“I won’t,” I promise.
She pulls on the thread of her dirty dress hidden beneath my jacket. It really is a shame that she can’t change. An idea strikes.
I pull at the hem of my T-shirt.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Kendall yells.
“What?”
“I mean, I know I said I don’t want to be alone, but that’s not what I meant.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Why are you undressing?”
Kendall is not making a lick of sense. I purse my lips together and haul my shirt off anyway.
She backs away from me. “I mean it, Alistair! You’re hot and all, but I’m not interested. I’m saving myself for my husband.”
I realize that she is staring at my chest. Her innocence is strangely captivating.
“Kendall, it’s not what you’re thinking.”
I step forward.
She steps back.
“Really? Because it looks like… you’re… um… you’re taking stuff off and…”
I move as she talks. Kendall tears her eyes away from my naked torso but I see her peeking even as she denies how I affect her.
“I think … this is indecent. It’s not what I meant––”
“Kendall,” I stop in front of her.
“Y-yes?”
“Wear this,” I hold the shirt out.
“What are you going to wear?”
With my eyes glued to hers, I reach out and grab the silver zipper of her jacket. Her sharp inhale rides on the stillness.
My heartbeat quickens when I focus on those plump lips of hers. I could kiss her. I want to kiss her, but that would only prove Kendall’s suspicions.
Instead, I slowly unzip the jacket. The buzzing sound underlines the tension that pulses between us.
I help her out of the jacket and shrug into it.
“There? Is that decent enough?”
She fans her face and heads for the bathroom. I hear her muttering about ‘sweet Oreos’ and ‘heart attacks’ before she slams the door in my face and disappears from view.
I smile. Even in the midst of these harsh circumstances, Kendall manages to fill me with light.
I wait until she is securely locked in the bathroom before moving to the bed and sitting down. The mattress moans beneath my weight.
With Kendall gone, I can focus on other things. One thought lays heavy on my mind.
Who is Miriam?
Maveth’s words were overshadowed by my fight
with Lelita. Now, the questions are rushing back.
Miriam is clearly someone that Maveth loves. Was it his mother? His sister? His friend? His lover?
How strange that he called out to her in the midst of his delirium. In his voice, I detected a desperation birthed from frantic need.
In his dream, this ‘Miriam’ must have been in trouble.
I strain to recall any personal information that Maveth had shared in the past. Nothing comes to mind.
While in the league, family and friends were rarely discussed. The league became our family. The assassins were our friends.
Women were used to satiate needs and dispense information to the assassins passing through. The likelihood of Miriam being a lover was slim.
That left a family member.
Until the assassin awoke from his slumber, the mystery would remain shrouded in shadows. I had a feeling that when we unlocked the secret, we would find Maveth’s heart.
Chapter 13
Kendall
I splash cold water against my face. It does nothing to cool the heat flaring in my chest when I think of Alistair Howard. Shirtless.
There should be a law against that.
“Cool it, Kendall,” I fan my face.
Thank God for brown skin and melanin. I’m burning up from my toes to my hair, but no one would be able to tell.
I glance at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes are wide and my nose is flaring like I’d just run a marathon.
I pick at the mess of curly hair that is frizzing by the minute. Because of my dunking in the shower earlier, my curls are revolting.
I’ve got to get some kind of conditioner in there or the tangles will drive me nuts.
While I dip my head underneath the faucet in the bathtub, I try to focus on scrubbing my hair and not on the abs that rippled over Alistair’s golden skin when he…
Shampoo douses my eye and I hiss.
“Kendall!” Alistair knocks on the door. “Is everything okay in there?”
“Everything is fine!”
“Alright.”
I need to get a grip. It’s not like I’ve never seen a half-naked man before. I’ve read magazines. And watched Channing Tatum movies.
I grab a towel from the hook and wipe my eyes. The burning irritation remains even after I squeeze my hair out and use the crumpled white dress to dry it.
When I emerge from the bathroom, I cover my eye so that Alistair won’t see how red it is.
