by Cait Ashwood
Zeche narrowed his eyes. “If you’re telling me we’ve been out here all night and you knew where they were all along—” he let the threat taper off.
Hound shook his head. “It would have been risky not to keep eyes on it. What if they changed wagons, or it fell off? No, the stakeout wasn’t pointless, just precautionary.”
Zeche stared at his partner, calculating. Seekers claimed they weren’t military-minded. Originally their purpose was as mates to members of the Order, the intent to keep the bloodlines as pure as possible. When the Order vanished, it was their job to go into the past, seeking ancestors of the Order and bringing them into the present time. Now? Now their purpose was so multi-faceted as to be indescribable. Hound was craftier than most of them though, Zeche would give him that. In fact, Hound was proving to have more in common with Zeche’s Ravens than with the Seekers to which he belonged.
“What?” The question was defensive.
“You sure you’re happy with the Seekers? It seems you’d make a decent Raven if I could teach you to fly.” Zeche said it only half in jest.
Hound snorted. “I’ve been hunting the tainted for a year now. Alone.”
Well, in this business, you either sank or swam. It wasn’t what he’d trained for, but apparently Hound had learned to swim after all. Zeche was glad of it. The man had asked for death on his discovery that the taint was irreversible. Whatever Audrey had done to him had given him a new purpose, and it just so happened to be a damned useful one.
As the wagon vanished from view, it was hard for Zeche to keep still. Years of training were nearly impossible to ignore, even though he knew Hound wouldn’t have trouble locating the wagon. It went against nature to trust in something he couldn’t entirely understand.
Zeche frowned into the now-empty darkness. “How do you intend to remove the tag?”
“It’s magnetic. I charge this half; the other half will return.”
“I see.” He didn’t see, but all that mattered was that it worked.
Less than an hour had passed, but Zeche was nervous as a cat. An hour without sight of his quarry. “Hound—”
The Seeker snorted. The damned man was always acting smug around him. “Need to see it? Come on, then.” Hound offered his hand. Physical contact was necessary for a Seeker to phase someone else, but there was no way in the nine hells Zeche was holding his hand like a child. Instead, he put his hand on Hound’s shoulder and held his breath. There was always the space of a few heartbeats where there was nothing and you couldn’t feel yourself breathe.
When he felt his boots touch the ground again, Zeche removed his hand and dropped into a crouch. The grasses from the plains were high enough to hide them without needing to belly crawl everywhere, and Zeche gritted his teeth at the amount of noise Hound made as he also lowered himself into the grasses. Perhaps not a Raven after all.
Within a minute, the groaning of wagon wheels over packed dirt reached them, and Zeche released the breath he’d been perfectly aware of holding. All was now right again in the assassin’s world.
Hound stiffened next to him unexpectedly, going deathly still. Zeche’s eyes slid to the man, his hand on the cold hilt of his dagger. Despite Audrey’s protection, it was still possible for Hound to fall prey to control by a taint user stronger than himself. Zeche watched the man carefully, turning his head only slightly when he heard a faint whizzing sound. Hound finally moved, his hand coming out of his pocket. A small gold tab flew unerringly to its mate, making a small tink as the two halves connected.
“We have to go.”
Zeche ducked down closer to the ground from habit. “They’ve seen us?”
“No; they’re looking though.”
Zeche had no reservations about holding the man’s hand now, but had he known what was coming next, he might have preferred their chances at a battle.
Blinding light and a vague impression of tall, white columns was all he could make out before he was being phased once more. A jungle, a beach, a few more scenes of grassy plains, a mountain cap covered in snow. How Hound knew all of these places and, even worse, managed to string them together without losing track of Zeche, he had no idea. After at least twenty jumps, and probably a few more, Hound finally stopped, panting.
Zeche barely managed to turn to the side and avoid puking on their shoes. He retched for a good five minutes until he was sure there was nothing left. He didn’t hear a sound from Hound, though. Of course. Those fuckers train for shit like this. When Zeche was finally able to look up, Hound seemed a different man. He was tall, sure of himself, his eyes narrowed as he scanned their surroundings. His normally brown eyes glowed green, and the tattoos under his eyes that he usually kept hidden were not only visible but emitting the same green light as his eyes. This was Hound not just as a Seeker, but as a Tracker. Only one in a thousand Seekers could track over fifteen jumps, and Hound had taken them many more places than that.
“Are we good?” Zeche’s voice was rough, and he cleared it impatiently.
Hound slowly turned in a circle, scarcely blinking. The silence stretched on.
“For the moment.”
Zeche looked around them. They were near a circular building that looked thousands of years old. Crumbling arches still stood, but well over half of the structure had collapsed. Wherever they were, they were a long way from home.
“What happened?” Zeche couldn’t understand where they’d gone wrong. They hadn’t even had a visual on the wagon, so how had they given themselves away?
Hound grunted, walking towards the crumbling structure. After a moment, Zeche fell into step behind him. The ground around the building was unnaturally flat. Hound stepped through an archway and navigated the building as if he’d been here a hundred times before. The sun was directly above them, beating down on what appeared to have once been an arena floor.
“The people who built this were geniuses.” Hound walked to the edge of the small section of flooring, looking into the subterranean workings. In a blink, he was standing at the bottom. “They built cages under here for both man and beast. They could flood the entire place, have naval battles. Prisoners came here to die, and entertain the masses with their deaths.”
Fascinating history lesson, but why are we here?
“In all, a horrific place to find oneself. But nothing compared to where we just were.” Hound shuddered, and the act more than the words caught Zeche’s attention.
There was a crumbling path that had collapsed about halfway across the arena floor, and Zeche started walking down it, light on his feet.
Hound sighed, strolling through the maze of cells. “Our team of wagon drivers were nothing. The person that came out to ID them though.” He shook his head, clenching his hands into fists and releasing them as if to assure himself they still worked.
Zeche let out his breath. “Was it this Zaddicus character?”
Hound shook his head. “I don’t know. But he was strong, and he was a Seeker. The entrance requires the use of a particularly challenging ability to master; I felt it when he accessed it.”
Zeche’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at Hound from above. “So, he wasn’t attempting to possess you.”
Hound glared up at him. “No.” The Seeker phased back onto the walkway not far from Zeche’s location. “My taint may have caught us a break. He probably assumed I’d slipped out of someone’s control and was poking about.”
Zeche nodded slowly. Made sense. A pure Seeker would have been pursued. “No one followed you?”
Hound shook his head, staring off into the distance.
I don’t have all day. Spill it, damn it.
“Hound.”
The man turned as if startled. He recovered, straightening his back. “What?”
“The compound?” Zeche waved his hand in the air, annoyed.
Hound’s expression darkened. “Should be destroyed.”
Zeche rolled his eyes. “Obviously. But you know the location?”
“I still w
ant to put eyes on it.”
That’s a yes. “When do we go back?”
Hound’s eyes were dark and impossible to read. “We won’t be going back. I’ll give the location to Tops. It’s in his hands now.”
“You’re afraid.”
The Seeker turned away, one hand rubbing at his chest over his heart.
When he spoke, he was deathly quiet. “I need to ensure that I stay working for the right side.”
Zeche shook his head. They needed confirmation of the compound’s location before running off to the commander of the Seekers with a big fat maybe. “You’re a coward.” Hound was a proud man; Zeche was hoping he could be goaded into action.
Hound scoffed. “I’m practical.” He deliberated about something for a moment, then slowly began unbuttoning his shirt. Zeche took a step back, arching an eyebrow. He wasn’t picky about his bed partners, but the Seeker was not one he’d pick for himself.
Hound stopped half-way down, then tugged the left side of the shirt over. Where there should have been unmarred flesh, instead the skin held a pearlescent glow, laying out the design of a howling wolf on his chest. “This only gives me so much protection, Zeche. Would you take personal responsibility for any harm I might cause if I’m overpowered?”
Zeche didn’t have an answer for that, nor had he been aware that Audrey’s protection was an actual mark and not some token. It was an incredibly intimate gesture. But he had to consider Hound’s question. No one had known, himself included, that Hound had been compromised the first time around. Audrey was the only one that could see the difference, and even then, she almost learned the skill too late.
“Would you be able to tell if the master of the taint exerted his control over me?” Hound advanced, staring down a Zeche. “Would you swear to it?”
Zeche stared up into Hound’s angry face, cursing once more his shorter stature. “No. I wouldn’t.”
Hound kept the intensity high before breaking away. “Then don’t goad me. I know when I’m outclassed.” He phased away to the highest remaining point of the structure, putting a hell of a lot of space between them.
With the larger, pissed off man out of his face, Zeche could analyze. Whoever had appeared apparently had the strength to turn Hound against them. If Zeche put boots on the ground near the compound, they’d inevitably be discovered and tip their hand to the enemy. Their biggest advantage was the element of surprise, if they hadn’t already lost that today. They were going to have to work on an assumption, and Zeche hated that. He liked facts, tallies, hard data he could manipulate until the odds were in his favor. They needed to get someone on the inside.
4
Ace looked up as Audrey came into the room. She was the picture of a harassed mother; hair a hot mess, eyes bloodshot with dark circles under them, and she was wringing her hands anxiously.
“I can’t get her to stop crying.” Her voice was soft, but Ace could tell she was just a few minutes away from losing it.
“Rowan’s sleeping?” Well, as much as the little tyke could with his twin wailing next to him.
Audrey nodded. “And I can’t find the clean diapers, and the laundry needs doing but I can’t find the soap or the clothespins, and—” she threw her hands up in the air, turning away from him. Her shoulders shook silently.
Ace bit his lower lip. Moving from safehouse to safehouse had been taking its toll on all of them. The twins were only four months old and, on top of being brand new parents, they also had a lot of outside struggles to try and handle. Returning to the Grove had boosted Audrey’s spirits for a few days, but they’d plummeted again after the last move. He’d been debating with himself over something ever since, but seeing her lose it like this made his mind up for him.
“Audrey?” He gave her a lopsided smile when she turned around, her hand a fist in front of her mouth, her eyes red and puffy. Lily was still wailing in the background.
“Hmm?” She took a big, heaving breath and let it out slowly.
“What would you say to just one more move, to somewhere permanent?” He held his breath. He half wanted her to say no because he didn’t want to go to the only place open to them. But more than he hated his mother and the city she’d built, he wanted Audrey to be happy. He wanted a place to raise their kids. And even if she didn’t love him, he was going to take damned good care of her, because someone ought to.
Audrey snorted. “Permanent? Say it’s not so.”
Even barely recovered from her tears, her wit was back. “Well, at least semi-permanent. It’s not going to be any paradise, but…my mother won’t turn us out.”
Audrey blinked at him. They’d never really gotten into each other’s histories, but he had mentioned his distaste of his mother before. “You’d do that?”
Well, you don’t have to sound so shocked. “You’ve been saying since they were born that they need stability, a schedule. I know you loved the nursery and…” he trailed off. They’d had to leave the sunny little cottage because the location had been compromised. Hallie ran a tight ship, but for her son and grandchildren? She’d likely give them a wing on the second floor.
He staggered back as she launched herself at his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around him. It took him a moment before he pulled her into him, his arms draping casually around her waist. She wasn’t demonstrative or affectionate with him unless they were in public. Biology had brought them together to bring the twins into the world. They worked and parented well together, but these were the moments he cherished, when he could catch her off-guard enough to catch a glimpse of what their life could be. Maybe. Someday.
She sobbed into his chest, but this time they were happy sobs. He rested his chin on her head and sighed, content despite the now doubled wailing from the bedroom. Moments. Little moments.
She withdrew and he let her go, quick as always. She was funny that way. Everything had to be on her terms. He cleared his throat, glancing back at the bedroom.
“When can we go?”
He tried to remember the last time he’d heard her voice so full of hope. They’d been surrounded by fear for so long; it was hard to remember that good things could happen in the world, too.
His lips twitched into their trademark half-grin. “After they wake up from their nap?”
Audrey beamed at him. “You take Lily, then. She calms down better for you.”
Side by side, they headed back into the bedroom, each reaching down and picking up a piece of the other. Lily quieted almost immediately in her father’s arms, and Rowan calmed soon after. Audrey was humming to them, and Ace tried to remember the last time he’d heard her singing. He couldn’t. Totally worth it.
It had taken them hardly any time to pack. They’d gotten used to moving with little to no notice, and they’d only gotten here late last night. The twins were fed and burped and gurgling happily in their slings. Ace lifted Audrey’s pack onto her back and helped her get the weight situated before putting on his own.
“Does she know we’re coming?” Audrey was finally starting to fret. She was looking at all the stains on her tunic and worrying about her hair. She had never been one to be overly conscious about her appearance, and that had diminished even more after the birth of the twins.
“You’re adorable when you’re nervous.”
Audrey scoffed at him, but smiled, glancing up at him in that way she had. On another woman it might be coy, but not with Audrey. It was a look that said, yeah, you got me, but I’m gonna remember that and get you back twice as bad next time.
He cleared his throat again, double checking that Lily was comfortable and not pinched anywhere. “No, she doesn’t know. And Auds, I’m not sure how much freedom you’re going to have there. The fewer people that know you’re there, the better.”
Audrey nodded, a frown on her face.
Hm. I was expecting more of an argument than that. She must want this badly. Of course she did. She’d been begging for it for months, but neither of them had ever actually thought it coul
d happen.
“All right. I’m gonna bring us in on my old balcony. I want to get you back indoors as soon as possible though.”
She nodded with more enthusiasm this time, though her grip on her bow tightened.
He hoped to hell she never found the occasion to use it again. He extended his hand toward her. “Shall we go?”
Her beaming smile was all the answer he needed as she put her hand in his.
Shit, it’s locked. Caution would have dictated that he check the place out before bringing his family with him, but the last time he’d left Audrey behind to scout ahead, she’d been captured and tortured. That was never happening again, not while he lived.
Luckily, Hallie’s Manse wasn’t the Institute; there was no metal skeleton amid the bricks, so he phased inside and flipped the lock. He pulled the door open and beckoned for Audrey to get inside. He stuck his head out over the balcony, scanning for anyone that might have seen them. The coast appeared to be clear. He closed the doors and latched them shut again, locking them in.
He turned, his face falling. His old rooms were obviously occupied. Most of his belongings were gone, though he recognized a few things here and there. Curious, he headed to the closet, surprised to find his clothes shoved to the back, feminine garments occupying the more accessible areas. Audrey seemed to notice the alien female presence as well, her lips pressed thin.
“Apparently, my mother has let someone else stay here.” His words were dry, but this was just like Hallie; eschewing emotion in favor of practicality. An empty room served no one. Still thought she would have left my rooms alone, though. She’d always insisted he’d return, and here he was. That was going to be a fun conversation.
Audrey hadn’t said anything, and it was making him nervous. Quiet women weren’t happy ones in his experience. She stood, looking small in the center of his suite, cradling Rowan even though his sling held him close to her.
“Hey, it’s fine. She’ll find us somewhere to stay.” He grinned at her, hoping to put her more at ease.
