by Nia Arthurs
“We have to move quickly,” Maveth glares at Lelita. “This hotel will be over-run in a few minutes. If her father sent his best and they failed, he’ll send them all.”
Great, just great.
I nearly fell apart when I saw that assassin pointing his gun at Alistair’s skull. I can’t live through that again. I can’t.
“Why don’t you just go back home!” I yell.
Everyone stares at me. I glare at Lelita.
“Well! Don’t look at me like I’m crazy. If your dad doesn’t like you hanging out with us, you should listen. You’re putting everyone in danger and for what? A little teenage rebellion?”
“How dare you talk to me like that?”
“Hey!” Damien once again referees the quarrel brimming to the surface. “We don’t have time for this. Lelita’s here to help. Right?”
Help, my behind. She is here for Alistair and anyone with womanly intuition would know it.
The girl shuffles her feet and doesn’t answer.
“Right?”
“Yes,” she says.
“Good,” Damien checks his watch. “Maveth has a point. We have to get out of here if we want to live through the next few hours.”
“What do we do with him?” Lelita hoofs a thumb at Maveth.
Alistair slashes his knife in one fell swoop and the ropes fall away.
“We trust him.”
Maveth dips his head grimly.
“You said you have a number for … Howard?” Alistair says.
My heart breaks as Alistair stumbles over his father’s name.
“Yes.”
“Call it. We’re going through with your plan.”
I rush to Alistair’s side. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I want to save his daughter but not like this.”
“I want to face my father. This is the only way.” Alistair grasps my shoulders and looks at his team. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 18
Alistair
I feel Kendal’s dark glares like lasers on my back. She isn’t happy with any of this. I try not to look at her.
I know what she wants. She made it quite clear all through the night as we finalized the plan, when we made a quick stop in Las Vegas, and as the private flight carted us to Scotland.
Her opinions haven’t changed though we stand on the cusps of our mission.
“I don’t like this,” Damien whispers as the wind whistles on the emerald hills outside.
“We have no choice.”
“If we had time, we could analyze Maveth’s phone, triangulate the call when it comes again…”
“This is it. He already set things in motion. My father is coming.”
“What if we can’t follow you? What if he kills you before you have a chance to answer all the questions? What if your hunch is wrong?”
“It’s not.”
“But what if it is.”
“Then take care of her,” I look at Kendall.
She and Lelita are pacing the abandoned warehouse. Kendall is wringing her hands and pulling her hair.
She’s mad at me, but she’s worried out of her mind. My heart clangs in my chest as I observe her frantic expression.
I wish we had never met. Not for my sake, but for hers.
I want Kendall to have a good life. One free of the shadows, free of the darkness, free of death.
I want her to meet a good man. Return to France. Have children. Die at a ripe old age.
She is deserving of these things and my desire is for her to experience all the pleasantries that life offers.
Damien slaps me on the back, covering his worry with humor.
“That’s too bad, man. I was already prepared to give her up to you.”
“She wasn’t ever yours to take.”
Damien opens his mouth to counter when Maveth steps forward.
“It’s time,” he says.
The assassin observes us wearily. Though he saved my life and thus created a thread of trust, the connection is a fragile one.
We’re all still on edge. He did try to kill Kendall. I don’t believe that he is entirely on our side.
Maveth will do anything for his daughter, even if it means betraying me. It is why I have made a hard choice.
I turn to Damien and slip my necklace into his hands. “Keep her safe, Damien. I don’t want a hair on her head touched.”
“I got it,” my friend nods.
Kendall draws near but remains silent. We’ve not said our good-byes. She refuses to do so, I believe, in a last ditch effort to stop me.
“You’re crazy,” Lelita throws her arms around my neck. “Why didn’t you choose me?”
“Because you have your own destiny.”
Lelita draws back and bows low. She is accepting my choice and acknowledging Kendall’s place.
Kendall lifts her chin and walks slowly up to me. I press my hands to her cheeks and caress the beautiful curls of her hair.
“You don’t have to do this,” I whisper. “Damien can take you back to Belize this instant.”
She raises her left hand and the ring on her finger glints in the light.
“I don’t agree with every other part of this mission, but this…” she brings my hand to her lips and kisses the band on my finger, “this is right.”
My heart squeezes.
“If I don’t make it back, you get that annulled. Right away. Don’t waste a day thinking about––”
Kendall rises on her toes and kisses me soundly. I hold her until Maveth clears his throat.
“They’re here.”
I step back and press my lips to her forehead. A tear falls from her eye. There is nothing more to say.
“Damien?”
“Yes?”
“Not a hair on her head.”
He nods and I follow Maveth into the shadows.
I hear Damien muttering for Kendall to follow him as I step further and further away from her, recalling the coldness of our wedding last night.
I rarely thought of marriage, but having my mortal enemy standing in the ceremony was definitely not a reality I’d considered when the notion did strike.
The wedding had been far from romantic and tinged with heaviness. Kendall stood soberly as the Elvis Presley impersonator joined our lives.
Guilt weighs me down as I think about it.
“You ready?” Maveth disturbs my reflection.
I nod.
The shot follows immediately, the bullet burning through my side like molten lava. I double over.
“You could have given me a heads-up.”
“I thought I did.”
I hold a hand over the blood spurting from my side. The pain strikes every nerve in my body, but I manage to hold on to consciousness.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Maveth reloads his gun. “That there’s a clean shot.”
The squeal of tires interrupts our back-and-forth. Maveth grabs my collar and I wince as agony terrorizes my side.
“You trust me?” he whispers.
“I don’t have a choice, do I?”
He grunts and pushes me forward.
Two men in all-black sweep the warehouse with guns and batons. I don’t recognize them, but they fit the mold of hardened criminals.
Black eyes sweep the warehouse for an ambush. They clutch their guns tightly and take in my bound state with suspicion.
What if Damien’s fears come through? What if Plan B leads Kendall to her death?
Maveth tightens the binds on my hands and speaks to the thugs. “He’s bleeding out. We have to hurry.”
The men nod and grab either end of my body. The slap of their hands on my side causes stars to dance before my eyes
This is far from my best plan.
“I want my daughter,” Maveth grumbles as the men shove me into a car trunk.
“Get in.”
Maveth catches my eye and then slides into the passenger seat.
The first man slams the car door shut. The rumble of the
engine is especially loud in the dark box.
Every bump in the road sets fire to my bullet wound. I grit down on my finger to keep from crying out.
I want to end this. The sacrifice, the pain, the worry will be worth if I stand before my father and hear the words that will put the questions to rest.
The vehicle travels for five minutes. I’m sweating and weak when the hired hands open up the trunk and pull me out.
Maveth sneers at each of them.
“Say something!” he yells. “Where is she?”
“Come on,” they nudge him forward with the barrel of the gun.
The first thug slaps a blindfold over Maveth’s face and then covers my eyes.
“Have patience,” their raspy voices are loud in my ears. “The Boss will see you now.”
They lead us through a cavernous hall. My boots barely make a sound as we march. The air is cool and the scent of dust and morass fills my nose.
We come to a stop.
“Let me see him.”
That voice. I know it. Over two decades have passed, but I will never forget the deep timber, the steady rasp.
The blindfold is torn and I come face to face with the man I once called ‘father’.
Chapter 19
Kendall
A little over a month ago, I was whining in my apartment because the only love in my life was Oreos.
Now, I’m travelling the globe–from Wales to America to Scotland– and… I’m married.
That’s right, guys. This hot mama is off the market.
Unfortunately, I don’t know if my husband will live through the night.
Unfortunately-times-two, I don’t know if I will either.
“Wait,” I hold Damien back as he prepares to open the wooden doors that will usher us into the Scottish chief’s chamber.
I’m pretty rusty on basic human laws, so listening to a crash course on the assassin’s code is kind of impossible.
“What is it?” Damien says patiently.
I feel like a heel. He has every right to be irritated with me. Alistair went over this part several times and I agreed to it.
It’s the reason we got married.
“So, according to League rules the only person that can make a case on behalf of a Denounced Assassin is someone who bears his name?”
“That’s right.”
“And this thing,” I point to the marriage certificate we got in Las Vegas, “and that thing,” I point to the necklace, “will help us?”
Damien holds the necklace to the light. “This was a gift from Ladheug, Alistair’s old chief. It will verify his identity and yours.”
“And we’re asking for the league to help us defeat Howard even though they don’t have any incentive to other than their ties to Alistair?”
Damien pulls at the nape of his cape. He’s dressed to impress in heavy robes, black gloves and boots.
“That’s the plan.”
The doors open and my throat constricts with fear. “Well, it’s a crappy one.”
Damien does not disagree.
***
Alistair
WHEN I WAS YOUNGER my father would put me on his back and make silly noises as we soared through the house.
I remember that memory fondly as it is the only image of my father that has remained through the years.
I search for any hints of that loving dad as I stare at the figure in the shadows.
But this man is not my father.
He has the blue eyes that I remember.
He has the square jaw and the broad shoulders that made my mother fall in love with him.
He even has the knot on his hand received when he rescued me from a misbehaving horse.
Nothing in his appearance has changed, but the coldness in his voice is not caring or welcoming. My father is taking great pleasures watching me bleed.
“I brought you him like you said,” Maveth shoves my face into the ground. “Now where is she?”
I hear a soft whimper and three more thugs emerge from the darkness.
“Daddy!”
I lift my head and stare as a little girl with long blonde hair and green eyes struggles against the men holding her back.
She’s small and not a day over six years old, but Miriam is a fighter. She pushes and pulls to get to her father.
“Miriam!” Maveth raises his shotgun. “Unhand her!”
“Put the gun down, Shadow,” Howard waves his hand.
He seems unaffected by Maveth’s threat. When the large assassin steps forward, nearly fifty mobsters emerge and surround him.
I am writhing in pain, but my sorrow is for Maveth alone. If my plan falls through, his daughter will not live to see another day.
Howard has the fire power and the army to make sure of it.
“I brought you your dying son, now give me my baby!” Maveth demands.
“He is not my son!” Howard yells. “He has never been my son!”
Silence fills the hall. I strain to lift my head as Howard steps closer and kicks me with his foot.
I grab my side. Blood gushes forth and taints the white tiled floors. Howard steps back so his shoes are not tainted by the flow.
“You wanna talk?” Maveth sets the gun down and raises his arms in surrender. “Talk. Let me take my kid and you and I can have a beer.”
“That’s not going to work for me, sir.”
Black spots dance before my eyes. All I can do is lie helplessly. The only part of my body that isn’t crying out for relief is my brain.
My thoughts collide as I fit the pieces together.
If Howard isn’t my father then who…
Everything suddenly clicks into place. The walks to the secret garden in the forests, the love letters, and the fire are all tied to my family and one other person.
Ladheug
The secret garden in the countryside bordered the Scotland hills near the assassin’s fortress.
The love letters were written by a chief to my mother.
And the fire…
“Did you … did you kill her?” I croak.
Both Maveth and Howard glare at me.
I struggle to my knees as blood drips from my mouth.
“Did. You. Kill. Her?”
Howard laughs. “What is this? Have you finally put the pieces together?”
“You bastard!”
“I’m the bastard? I gave that woman everything!” Spittle flies from his mouth and he pauses to wipe it with the back of his wrist. “I loved her with my every breath, loved you… but she lied to me.”
“She was… a good woman.”
“She was a witch.”
My anger flares at his callous remarks.
“She married me so no one would discover her connection with that Scottish murderer. She promised me that she would never see him again, but I caught them in that despicable garden. He was… playing with you. That’s when I knew.”
I do not recall that memory.
“The fire wasn’t supposed to kill her, but I wasn’t angry when it did. Though I admit, you were not intended to be rescued.”
“What kind of man murders his own child?” Maveth looks to his own daughter.
“He is not mine!”
I spit blood from my mouth. Howard is answering all of my questions, but this is not how I intend to die.
Where is Lelita? Have Damien and Kendall been successful?
Each breath fills me with pain. If they don’t arrive soon, it will be too late.
“Ladheug rescued Alistair from the flames, but he couldn’t save Lydia. He chose the child instead of the woman.” Howard curses. “So I made it my life’s mission to defeat him, to make him bleed, to make him regret that unsavory choice.”
He nods to the mobsters surrounding Maveth.
“I wanted to build my own army so that I could take his assassins, but he died before I could get my vengeance… so my revenge must be satiated by his son’s death.”
“Well, you’re not too
far from achieving that,” Maveth points to my deathly pale face. “I’ve kept my end. Now deliver yours.”
“Oh, I would,” Howard waves his hand. “But there’s one problem.”
A minion steps forward, dragging a woman by the hair. She’s unconscious and bleeding heavily from the temple.
Lelita!
“I don’t like betrayal, Maveth,” Howard grins. “As I’ve just explained, it’s a sore spot.”
No!
The mobsters cock their guns and train them all on Maveth. The situation is spiraling out of control and my weakened body refuses to rise.
“Daddy!” Miriam yells.
Howard chuckles while she screams. I close my eyes as the world slows down drastically.
This is my fault…
“Lelita!”
Someone bursts through the doors and a flood of assassins enter the hall. Chaos descends immediately.
Swords clang against swords.
Grunts and moans echo in the darkness. Maveth runs toward his daughter in the battle. I turn my attention to Howard.
He’s running away like a coward. Drawing on the last of my strength, I grab the pistol hidden in my coat and aim.
Howard does not stop. He limps for the exit.
It is the last thing I see before darkness overcomes me.
Chapter 20
Kendall
When the dust clears, Damien’s eyes zero in on me. I drop the pipe I’ve been using to wallop mobsters in the head and grin sheepishly.
I’ll be the first to admit that storming into a fray of fighting assassins and thugs was not the best of ideas.
I lost most of my common sense when I saw Alistair bleeding out on the floor in the midst of the war zone.
My only thought was getting to him.
I didn’t quite make it and Damien had to shoot two of my capturers in the head so I didn’t join the rest of the mobsters falling to their deaths.
The look of displeasure he’s serving right now is well-deserved.
“Lelita!” Chief Toqueph holds his daughter in his arms.
“Chief?” she opens her eyes.
As the two reunite, I pick past the bodies of the fallen mobsters until I’m before Alistair.
A commotion rings behind me and Lelita flies out of her father’s hold to stoop beside my husband.
We both stare at the blood around him with frantic expressions. This is not good. I’m no healer, but even I can tell.
