by Jayne Hawke
By the time my foot hit the pavement, he was back in his languorous pacing pose, a touch of wetness in his hair the only sign that he’d had so much as a moment’s workout so far. I noticed that I wasn’t breathing hard, either. The war magic was buttressing me, keeping me fit. I decided not to worry about what else it might be doing to me without its muzzle. When I was done showing the elf why he should have taken up data entry, I could get philosophical about magic all day and night.
My model of his style was solid, that I knew. His style was pretty, elfin, rarely used but often practiced. He was good, better than me. He was faster than I could predict, faster than he’d showed. He was playing games. He wasn’t here to kill me, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. This wasn’t what he normally did. He would make his first proactive move in three steps.
When that last thought reached my mind, I started counting down. I could’ve pre-empted it, but I wanted to see if I was right. I wanted to see if my magic was right. Three steps left and he was smiling. He wanted me to know. Two steps left and his face was blank. He was letting me wonder. One step left and he was in his own head, probably doing the same calculations I had been a moment earlier. The final step landed, and he jumped forward, aiming a simple left straight at my right eye.
I swept it aside with one hand and stopped myself short of a counterstrike. Instead, I swept out to my right. He’d been prepared for a counter, and when it didn’t come there was a fractional moment where his focus was on the point he thought I should be. I took my shot, a bare-knuckle boxer’s uppercut hook, and slammed it as hard as I could to where I knew his head would be when he whipped around to see where I’d gone. It was a one-off, and I knew it. One Dinamita telegraph, cash on delivery to the elf that should have killed me ten minutes ago. If it didn’t put him down, the fight was over.
I felt the gentlest touch of elfin skin, so close I knew I’d be able to smell his overpriced moisturizer on my knuckles, and I smiled to myself even as I knew the punishment would come with interest in less than a second.
I heard a snap kick to left side of my ribs before it registered with my nerve endings. Another followed it, which I blocked readily, and a third fared no better. I could see the anger in his face. I’d won, and he knew it. We’d played a strange game of counting coup, and even if I was the one walking away with bruises this was a fight he’d remember long after he forgot my name and where the fight had happened and what it was even about.
He made a final vicious, needless roundhouse that, even through my block, made me stumble to the side, and walked off like he was taking the scenic route home from a rose festival.
I win, I thought, and made myself believe it.
TWELVE
I’d rung Ethan to tell him about my run in with the elf. He was pacing in front of our front door when I got there. Ethan vaulted over the small front gate and pulled me into his arms. I rested my forehead against his strong chest and allowed his scent to envelope me.
“I was so worried,” Ethan whispered as he stroked my hair.
I looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.
“You hired me because I’m awesome, remember?”
He gave me a warm smile that made me lean into him.
“Elf assassins are something that strikes the fear into even experienced warriors,” he said gently as he stroked my cheek with his thumb.
I reached up and cupped his cheek in my hand. The bristle of stubble pressed against my palm felt weirdly comforting.
“You won’t lose me. I’m a badass,” I said.
He laughed and moved to my side, keeping me close with his arm around my waist.
“Tell me everything,” Matt demanded from the doorstep.
I shrugged.
“Just an elf assassin, no big deal,” I said.
He glared at me.
“Make me a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you everything I remember,” I said.
We headed inside and settled into the small kitchen. Ethan insisted on pulling me into his lap and holding me close. I think it was more for his reassurance than anything.
The rest of the pack had arrived by the time Matt finished brewing the coffee. Cade served pieces of the most decadent chocolate Tiffin I’d ever seen. Whoever had made it had been very generous with the melted chocolate. The chunks of digestive biscuit were of the highest quality, and they had plenty of glace cherries in there. I bit into a piece and closed my eyes, experiencing pure bliss. It was rich, sweet, and just the right mix of chewy and crunchy. There could surely be no better food in the world.
When I opened my eyes, everyone was looking at me expectantly.
“I was walking through the nice old part of the city on my way to the park. I felt the weird magic with the sparks in the blood. He could have broken bones, but he didn’t. It was like he was playing with me. I didn’t manage to really hurt him, the bastard. He just disappeared like it was nothing when he was done.”
“He didn’t say anything?” Ethan asked.
“Not a word.”
Dean frowned, a deep growl rumbling in his throat.
“We must have missed something somewhere,” he said.
“Agreed,” Ethan said.
“The vast majority of elves live free lives in the Wilds on the fae plane. There are, however, a handful that either decided to claim territories of their own, Ryn being the primary example, or who are owned by powerful lords and ladies. I had assumed this one belonged to someone, but given he didn’t do any real damage, I’m unsure. We can, however, be sure that he is incredibly dangerous,” Ethan said.
“Elves usually keep to themselves. They remain out of politics and just keep to protecting the Wilds. No one outside of the Wilds really know what’s in there, but everyone knows you don’t survive stepping foot there unless the elves allow it,” Cade said.
“We know that someone very powerful wants you dead, or captured, if an owned elf is after you,” Dean said.
“Delightful,” I said sarcastically before I took another bite of Tiffin.
“Owning and controlling someone like Kit would give a lord or lady an advantage over the others. We’re looking for someone who’s hoping to advance themselves,” Ethan said.
“Or Ryn himself,” Kerry said.
“No. Ryn would never own an elf,” Ethan said.
Ryn was the most powerful fae in all of the territories. He owned the majority of the territories and fae businesses, and he kept the fae mostly in line and under control.
“What if the assassin isn’t owned and is just working for or with Ryn as a fellow elf?” Cade asked.
Ethan held me a little tighter.
“He could feel that Kit would give him a stronger chance against the god touched. They have been working particularly hard to drive the fae back to the fae realm this year,” Ethan said.
I rolled my jaw.
“I’m not some tool or toy to be bought and controlled,” I said.
“We know,” Ethan said softly.
“You are, however, very unusual. That in and of itself is a dangerous position to be in,” Cade said.
“Why don’t you speak to Ryn about gaining protection for Kit?” Matt asked.
“No. That would make us beholden to him. We are a free pack, and we will stay that way,” Ethan growled.
“So, you’re just, what? Going to kill the assassins, mercs, witches, and whatever else rock up to take Kit for the rest of her life?” Matt challenged.
“If need be,” Ethan said.
“She deserves more,” Matt said.
“We’ll deal with it one assassin at a time,” I said.
“More coffee anyone?” Cade asked.
THIRTEEN
Ethan hadn’t been particularly happy about leaving me that evening. I’d told him that I had a bigger stack of books by my bed, but it hadn’t helped.
What sleep I did manage to get was fitful and full of dreams with prancing elves with sharp daggers. I gave serious consideration to trying to get some magical stimulant to
wake me up. There was not enough coffee in the city to make me feel awake and capable of doing much of anything.
Matt was still fast asleep when I slipped down to the kitchen and made myself a breakfast comprised of Tiffin, a croissant, and couple of squares of luxurious dark chocolate. The chocolate had small pieces of crystallised orange in it, giving it the most wonderful citrus bite. It wasn’t the most healthy breakfast, but I told myself that I’d earnt it. I did survive a dangerous fae assassin, after all.
The sun was still buried beneath the horizon, having only shed the faintest touch of greyish pink across the sky. It was far too early for my phone to be ringing, and yet there it was. Sighing, I picked it up and tried to sound more awake than I felt.
“Hello?”
“Another body has been found drained of blood. I’ll be there in fifteen, with coffee.”
It took me a few seconds to process who was speaking and what they’d said.
“Ethan?”
“Were you expecting someone else to tell you about dead bodies?” he said with a laugh.
I made a half-asleep groaning sound.
“I’ll add something to the coffee. See you in fourteen.”
I stuffed the last of the Tiffin into my mouth and ran upstairs to get dressed. Kerry might be ok lounging in her pyjamas, but I wanted to look as though I was capable.
Ethan looked perfectly put together when I opened the door. His deep purple sweater brought out the beautiful shimmering gold in his eyes and hugged his powerful torso. The jeans were practical and gave me a great view of his ass as he walked ahead of me. Even his hair was perfect with a little tousling to make him sexy.
I, on the other hand, looked like a zombie. I hadn’t braved the mirror. Instead, I’d quickly braided my hair and hoped I didn’t scare too many people. Ethan handed me a huge travel cup. I hugged it tight and breathed in the heady aroma of caffeine with a kick of magic.
“You’re my saviour,” I said.
“I do my best,” Ethan said with a grin.
I took a sip of the coffee and tasted the thick malty magic wrapped within it. The magic had barely touched my tongue before I was wide awake.
“You got the good stuff,” I said appreciatively.
“Only the very best for you,” Ethan said as he gently squeezed my knee.
We drove through the city with rock music playing quietly through the speakers. The streetlights were still on as the sky slowly turned into a silvery blue where the sun was edging upwards. I’d been expecting Ethan to take us through to the expensive wealthy part of the city where the fae lived in their town houses and such.
The city deteriorated around us. The terrace houses became more worn down, with boarded-over windows, broken doors, and grass growing up through large cracks in the pavement. Blood stained the walls and poisonous plants grew around the doorways as we made our way past shells of old cars.
A small warped body sat beneath a slender tree, the head lolling to the side with empty sockets staring right at the road. Lumps had been pulled from the corpse, leaving it bloated and broken. I hadn’t spent much time around this part of the city. If someone, or something, went there, people tended to assume they’d never get it back and walk away.
“There was a highborn here?” I asked.
“No, it was a mongrel this time,” Ethan said.
He parked in front of a patch of brambles that had grown between the falling-down wreckage of two houses. A group of people had gathered around the body.
All conversation stopped when we got out of the car. Attention was entirely on us. The group dispersed, but I could still feel the eyes watching our every move. They hadn’t gone too far. They must have screwed up the scene, though. Any evidence would surely have disappeared with a crowd of that size.
Still, we walked over to the body of a young woman around my age. Her skin was snow white and her pale brown eyes were vacant. There wasn’t a scrap of magic or life within her. She almost felt like a void. The problem was, we didn’t know if the murderer had done that, or if it was a witch taking what they could after the fact.
Ethan crouched down and moved her head to check her neck.
“You’re not seriously entertaining the vampire idea?” I asked.
“We have to check every angle,” he said.
He looked down the body for injuries and blood.
“Can you feel any residue of our killer?” he asked.
I exhaled slowly and stretched my magic out around the scene. It ached deep in my bones as I tried to dig into every inch of the area. There was nothing. Not a single thread of anything, which was weird. Normally, I could feel scraps of life from the plants, the sunlight, natural normal things. Not there.
“It’s a void,” I said.
Ethan sighed and stood up.
“That’s unfortunate.”
“So, we have one more body and no leads?” I asked.
“Looks like.”
FOURTEEN
Desperation. Anger. Fear. Righteous indignation. All normal for neighbourhoods like this, especially after a tragedy. All dangerous when brought close to the surface. A crowd of emotional people was surrounding us by the time we got back to the car. We were rich, slick outsiders, and we were stomping around the corpse of one of theirs - one of theirs who had been killed by another outsider. For all they knew, killed by us or someone we were there to cover for.
I felt Ethan’s magic rising. I couldn’t blame him for being nervous and pissed off at people crowding around him when he was just there to keep more victims from piling up all over York. I was searching for something to say, something that would calm everything down, when a crowbar flew past Ethan’s head and smashed into the side of his car, leaving a nasty dent. After that, there was only one way it was going to end.
“You sons of...” Ethan snarled at them, punching the nearest guy in the nose hard enough to send him straight backwards onto his back.
He didn’t move, and for a second neither did anyone else. Even Ethan seemed surprised that he’d lost his cool. The crowd charged us after a stunned moment, an odd mixture of humans and fae part-breeds united by proximity and outrage. They had numbers, but we weren’t the soft-palmed socialites they expected.
I gave Ethan a look I hoped would convince him to go easy on these people. I knew what it was like to be on the bottom and watch others sit so far above you that it was hard to even imagine their lives. Ethan didn’t. He was a demigod of death, born rich, powerful, and deadly, and he only fought one way.
It wasn’t beautiful to watch, no ballet of death or elegant huntsman’s coup de grace. It was war the way they didn’t write poems about, mechanical, methodical, and thoughtless. I knew what he was, had gotten tingly at the badass I was giving myself to day by day, and it wasn’t as if I’d never killed. I was gifted at killing, dedicated to the art. Whatever he was, though, I wasn’t. I summoned a quarterstaff and used it to throw a half dozen rioters onto their backs long enough to stand between them and Ethan.
“Stop. This isn’t necessary,” I said. “They aren’t trying to kill you, they just need to vent. This is nothing but a bar fight.”
“I don’t get into bar fights.”
He said it with no coldness, no maniacal glee. It was a soft, gentle reminder that we weren’t the same and nothing more. As he said it, he reached around me and pressed a wave of energy out. I was just enough, not an ounce of death wasted, and behind me a crowd of desperate, hungry, scared people fell to the ground.
All I wanted to do was go home.
FIFTEEN
I expected him to be silent, even grim when we returned to the car, but he wasn’t. The anger he’d felt when he started the fight had gone long before it ended, and now all he wanted was to move on with our day in full expectation that I understood his perspective and, if not agreed with him, at a minimum saw the matter as settled.
I let go of the feeling of it, reminded myself that we had been acting in self defence, put a fresh coat of pai
nt on my sense of him and a lid on the sensation of disconnection the whole thing had caused me. Maybe I’d have to deal with it later, but not yet and maybe not ever.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to take you home. I’m still fighting over the contract with Bella. She is trying to use this to make a power grab. I do not enjoy doing this paperwork; I want to be investigating with you.”
I wrapped my hand around his on the gearstick.
“Anything I can help with?”
He shook his head.
“No, I just need to face her in the board room. Matt should be home early today, though.”
“He hasn’t screwed up as he?” I asked.
Ethan laughed.
“No, he’s doing great. His mentor just gave him reading for the afternoon.”
I sighed in relief. This apprenticeship meant the world to Matt. I didn’t know what I’d do if he lost it.
Ethan pulled up in front of my house and leaned over. I dug my fingers into his hair and pulled him in for a deep kiss. I lost myself in him, the way his soft lips caressed mine. Goosebumps formed where his fingers trailed down the back of my neck and held me close to him. For a moment I was tempted to climb into his lap, but that wasn’t me. Not in broad daylight.
“Is there any chance I convince you to stay at the pack house tonight?” he asked huskily.
I was seriously tempted. The beds were huge, very comfortable, and came with sound-proofed rooms. The fun we could have...
I kissed him tenderly.
“Not tonight.”
He caressed my cheek.
“We have all the time in the world.”
“You didn’t have another run in with that elf did you?” Matt said when he saw the state of me.
“No, we went to the camp. Another fae showed up drained of blood. The locals didn’t appreciate our presence and jumped us.”
Matt frowned.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’ve handled worse. Anyway, how’s the apprenticeship going?”
