When he spotted The Mosquito standing near the entrance to an alley, Valek recognized the setup. Those three worked for the bug. Like a pack of sheep dogs, their job was to herd him toward that alley, where Valek’s prey would conveniently dangle like bait on a hook. Then the bait would slip down the alley and draw Valek right into an ambush. Classic.
He judged his odds. The Mosquito plus three—doable with darts, but just how many waited? A brief thought of using his magic to sense the others flashed before he dismissed it. Too many people around. Even though Teegan had taught him to control his magic in order to prevent a flameout back at the Stormdancers’ safe house, he was reluctant to use it. According to Teegan, his mental barrier was strong enough that he didn’t need to wear a null shield. Besides, he liked being able to detect when magic was in use around him.
Instead of using magic, he decided to take the high ground. Valek returned to the heart of the market and lost his sheepdogs, then cut down the street next to The Mosquito’s chosen alley. When no one appeared to take an interest in him, he climbed the nearest building and reached the top.
When he straightened, he spotted The Mosquito waiting on the roof two buildings down on his left. Fisk did say the man was smart. So how did Yelena get away from him with only a few cuts?
It occurred to Valek that perhaps Yelena wasn’t his target.
Valek drew both his daggers and faced The Mosquito as he lightly hopped buildings.
The Mosquito halted six feet in front of Valek. “Please tell me you really didn’t think I’d set up such an obvious trap for you.”
“You took a contract to kill Yelena. That makes me question the level of your intelligence.”
“Fair enough.” He swept a hand out.
Sensing movement behind him, Valek angled his body to keep the bug in sight while he glanced back. Four black-clad figures stood up from where they’d been lying on the right side of the rooftop. Nice.
“What about now?” The Mosquito asked.
“It depends on who you brought for backup.”
“Well, this is Sitia. Not a ton of trained killers here. But there are plenty of magicians. Four might be excessive, but...” He shrugged. “I’d rather too many than not enough.”
Ah. Smart move. Around Valek, the presence of magic disappeared suddenly. The magicians must have surrounded him with a null shield. Valek dropped his arms to his sides, as if an invisible hand had wrapped around his torso. When he’d been immune to magic, a null shield could immobilize him like a rat stuck between the jaws of a trap. Now...not at all. However, he didn’t want the bug to learn this fact until the perfect moment.
“Now I’m questioning your intelligence, Valek. Why would you come after me alone when everyone knows how easy it is to trap the infamous assassin?”
“Who says I’m alone?”
The Mosquito opened his mouth, but snapped it closed as his gaze slid past Valek’s shoulders. Four thuds sounded behind him. The presence Valek had sensed in the market stood among the prone forms. As usual, Onora was barefoot.
“You do realize she wants the same thing I do,” The Mosquito said.
Valek rolled his shoulders as if he’d been released from the pressure of a null shield. “I do,” he said. “But she’ll wait her turn. Right, Onora?”
“You can play with your bug first,” she said.
Valek didn’t hesitate. He flipped his dagger and flung it at The Mosquito’s chest with all his strength. Shock whitened the man’s face as the blade pierced bone and buried deep into his heart. The force slammed The Mosquito to the ground.
Shuffling close, Valek crouched beside the assassin. Valek met the bug’s horrified gaze. “I’m sorry we didn’t have a proper match, but I need to save my energy for the next fight.”
For Onora to show up in broad daylight meant it was going to take all his skills to defeat her. If he even could. She must have downplayed her abilities when sparring with him before. “Oh, and Yelena says enjoy the fire world.”
Valek yanked his knife from The Mosquito’s chest and stood to face Onora.
3
LEIF
“You can’t pack an entire hothouse’s worth of plants onto one wagon, Father,” Leif said for the billionth time. Sweat rolled down his face as he helped Esau pack the plants’ roots into large terra-cotta pots filled with soil. They’d been at it for two days now. “Just collect the important ones and those that you think can survive the trip.”
Esau knelt among the greenery. Dirt streaked his face and smeared his coveralls. His tragic expression over leaving any of the shrubbery behind was almost comical. “If Mara makes me glass panels for the wagon, we could construct a hothouse on wheels and—”
“It would weigh a ton and take a team of oxen to drag it to the Citadel. Not to mention draw attention to us, and right now, we can’t afford to be noticed.” Leif and Mara had to dodge a number of military patrols on the eight-day trip here. Traveling with a full wagon was going to be a nightmare. “We’ll probably have to put a tarp over the plants we do take in order to blend in.”
Esau gasped in dismay, and Leif suppressed a sigh. His father was the best at identifying and working with plants, but sometimes the man’s devotion bordered on obsession.
“We’re leaving in the morning, Father. So tell me which ones to pot, or I’m going into the farmhouse and—”
“Take the crossbreeds and the grafted Theobroma trees.” Esau stabbed his finger at the plants. Soil filled his nails, which had grown long, along with Esau’s wild gray hair.
Leif hadn’t wanted to leave his father behind in Broken Bridge when he’d returned to the Citadel two months ago, but that Zaltana stubbornness won out, and Esau had remained at the farmstead. And it appeared that he had practically lived in the glass hothouse and only spent the minimum amount of time on things like basic hygiene, sleeping and eating.
Then again, it was probably a good thing Esau hadn’t accompanied Leif. Considering he’d been ambushed, kidnapped, brainwashed and shot in the chest with a crossbow bolt, Leif thought his father had fared better, even with the malnutrition. Leif rubbed the scar on his chest, remembering the pain and the knowledge that he was dying. That he’d never hold his beautiful wife in his arms again. Then, from nowhere, Valek had appeared and saved his life. With magic! A month later, Leif still couldn’t get his mind to accept it. Valek, who’d been immune forever, and now...a magician of considerable strength. Weird.
Leif finished potting the plant and several more that Esau gave him, then stood. Stretching his back, he wiped the sweat from his face and headed toward the house to check on Mara. Ever since his near-death experience and seeing her a prisoner of Bruns, he grew nervous when he’d been separated from her for more than a few hours.
The trip to the Citadel was going to be tricky. He planned to let her ride his horse, Rusalka, with instructions to head back without waiting for them. It was safer for her, and she’d have a better chance of avoiding the patrols by traveling alone. The time apart would be torture for him, but it was much better than letting Bruns capture her again.
Mara was in the farmhouse’s large kitchen, cooking supper. He paused in the threshold and watched his wife. Honey-colored curls framed her heart-shaped face. She was gorgeous on the outside and equally as beautiful on the inside. He’d never met a sweeter soul. But he’d learned she wasn’t as soft as she appeared. Her run-in with Bruns had brought out her inner strength.
She spotted him hovering and flashed him a huge grin, her tawny-colored eyes shining with love. His heart melted at the sight, and he rushed to gather her close.
Mara nuzzled his neck. “You smell of earth and sweat.”
“Does my man-odor turn you on?”
She leaned back to meet his gaze. “You’ve been spending too much time with Janco.”
“
I haven’t seen Janco in weeks,” he protested.
“Doesn’t matter. The damage is done,” she teased. “Go get cleaned up. Supper is almost ready, Man-Odor.”
“Come with me? Father is busy.”
“And let the roast dry out?”
“Yes.” Food had lost its appeal. Almost dying had a way of rearranging a person’s priorities.
“I won’t serve a meal that tastes like shoe leather.” She squeezed him. “We’ll have time later. This house has lots of bedrooms, and we’ll probably need to check on the horses sometime this evening.”
He laughed. “Is ‘check on the horses’ going to be our code?” Leif imagined a house full of kids and a future Leif announcing that Mommy and Daddy needed to “check on the horses” and would be back.
“You’ve no sense of romance.”
“That shouldn’t be a surprise.”
She shooed him away in mock disgust. Smiling, Leif cleaned up and helped her finish cooking dinner. He brought a tray of food outside for his father. After Esau ate, they loaded the wagon and watered the plants.
“Poor things.” Esau tsked. “Out in the cold. Maybe I should—”
“No. You’re not sleeping here with them. We’ll be on the road for—” he calculated “—sixteen days, if the weather cooperates. You’ll have plenty of time to coddle the plants. Tonight, you should get cleaned up and have a proper night’s sleep in a bed.”
But Esau fretted anyway, and Leif offered to put the tarp on that night instead of waiting until the morning. By the time he finished securing the fabric to Esau’s satisfaction, Leif really did have to check on the horses. He sent his father into the house with strict orders to wash up and go to bed, then headed to the barn.
He breathed in the comforting scent of hay, horses and manure. Rusalka greeted him with a soft nicker. He topped off her water bucket and added grain to her feed. Then he tended to the other two. Fisk had lent them a hardy sorrel quarter horse named Cider for Mara to ride, and who had also been trained to pull a wagon. Leif had traded in his father’s horse for a barrel-chested black draft horse named Kohl. The brute could probably handle the wagon on his own, but, due to the distance, Leif felt better with two.
Mara arrived just as he finished cleaning Kohl’s hooves.
“Come to check on the horses?” He leered.
She ignored him. “I tucked your father into bed, but I had to promise to tug on the fabric over the wagon to ensure it doesn’t come loose.”