Chapter 3 #3
I glanced around, confused. There was nothing to see but tall spooky trees, and between the trunks, high twisting cages of dark red roses full of thorns spread far and wide.
Was LOA headquarters behind the dark wall of thorns?
He couldn’t expect us to crawl through there, we would be shredded.
I shuddered at how quiet it was, and my eyes automatically scanned the shadows created by the moon for danger.
For all I knew, he could be taking me out in the middle of nowhere to dump me off and get rid of his problem. “Not much to look at.”
He stared down at me, and I swore I felt his flicker of annoyance. “Because I haven’t told you the words that will reveal it yet. It’s veiled by magic.”
Oh, Taewyn said that, but how would he expect me to know? I’d never experienced magic before. I flushed and decided I should just stay quiet. “Yes, sir.”
“You never tell anyone this. Even if you’re tortured for the information. Even if someone threatens to kill your friends. Even if it’s your father asking. Not even a leader from another guild. When I say never, that’s what I mean.”
“I understand.”
He stared until I felt the sweat beading on the back of my neck.
“Sir,” I added.
He nodded once in approval. This man meant business. “It’s volar ketsa. It roughly means, darkness is mine.”
Like darkness belonged to the assassins not vampires?
The corner of my mouth curled until the rose bushes with blood red blooms started to move, revealing a path through.
Thirty yards away, a dark stone structure shimmered into existence.
Gasping in surprise, I took a step back to take in the sheer size of the towering, crenelled walls. It just... appeared.
I blinked, processing whether I could trust my eyes.
There were no torches on the outside of the structure, no light except from the half-moon shining down upon it.
It had four main turrets at each corner and walls connecting them.
I’d only ever seen the likes of it on the storybook cover at home.
The entrance gate clinked as it lifted upward.
Once it stopped, the silence loomed. It was quiet here. Too quiet for a place this size.
I wondered if magic cloaked the noise even now. He waved for me to follow.
Directly inside was an open outdoor area with several stone tables and a three-tiered water fountain at the center, surrounded by a few fruit trees, apples and plums, and a giant oak.
He pulled open a heavy wooden door with an iron circle handle, and I followed him up a circular set of stairs.
It smelled damp and musty in the stairwell.
Thankfully, there was a handrail for me to lean on.
If I didn’t get to sit down soon, my left leg was going to give out.
The kick to my thigh had done more damage than I initially thought.
We hit a long corridor and, at the end of it, we stepped up a ramp into a turret.
He pushed through a door into what could only be a bedroom.
A large bed was against the wall on one side.
A couch was on the other with a dresser in between.
There was a medallion hanging from the candelabra on the bedside table.
An oil lamp burned on the small desk, with stacks of books and papers on the other side of the room.
No artwork or anything much else to speak of.
A few dirty clothes were piled in the corner. It smelled like... Viper in here.
“You can sleep on the couch until we get a bed in here tomorrow. There’s a washroom through that doorway if you want to clean the blood from your shirt.
” He pointed at the door near the foot of his bed.
He opened a large armoire and took out a thick white blanket and set it on the couch.
“Bandages are in there, too. You can drink out of the faucet. Do you have running water where you’re from? ”
I didn’t even understand the question. “Inside the house? No.” We got it from the nearby brook.
He pushed back his hood and tugged down the attached mask.
His dark hair was wild, wavy, and reached just above his collarbones.
He ran a hand through the tangles, trying to tame it.
His clear skin was pale, like he’d rarely been in the sunlight.
His nose was straight, perfect, and so were his white teeth.
There was only one time I’d ever looked at a man and thought he was attractive enough to be called beautiful, and that was now. That was him.
Yet, there was still something rugged and lethal about him. It was his eyes; they were hunter’s eyes. He was like the day and night colliding, a wonderful mixture of terrifying and lovely. I swallowed hard and my body warmed all over.
He picked up the lit oil lamp and went into the washroom. “How bad are your ribs?”
“Uh, it hurts. I think two are broken.”
He came back with a rolled bundle of white bandages. “There isn’t much we can do for that but wrap your torso. It helps some. If you lift your shirt, I can start it for you.”
He reached for me, and I took a step back. My blouse would be staying where it was. “Wait, so we sleep in the same room? I thought, well, I don’t know what I thought would happen. Maybe the apprentices would have a place, or I’d room with Cel—”
“Apprentices go where their trainer goes. At all times. If you have a problem with that, take it up with the Commanders.” He set the roll of bandages on the dresser and went to his bed.
His black long-sleeved shirt came off next.
Underneath he wore a thin gray, cut-off sleeved top.
He had... nice arms. Muscular but not overly bulky.
A small “LOA” was tattooed in black ink across his arm just above where his bicep was.
“You can put on one of the shirts in the drawer if you need something clean to sleep in.” He tugged his dark blue blanket aside, slipped in between the sheets, and rolled onto his side, facing away from me.
I’d never shared a room with a man before, let alone an inhumanly attractive assassin. And I thought the screams outside my house were alarming.
I stepped into the washroom and found a toilet, a copper tub that looked like it drained somewhere, and a matching copper sink with a mirror above it.
It was larger than our washroom at home.
I shut the door and lifted my blouse, the skin on my right side had deep purple bruising.
Holding up the bottom hem of my top between my teeth, I took the bandage and wrapped it around my torso.
I imagined it had to be somewhat tight to be effective.
My eyes burned as I tugged it firmly into place and tucked the end.
I finally looked at my face in the mirror.
My bottom lip was swollen and split down the center.
The blood had thankfully crusted over. I pulled open a cupboard next to the sink and found a round tin labeled: wound balm.
I twisted off the lid, and the scent of strong herbs filled my nose.
It didn’t look like he’d ever used it. I dipped my fingertip into the thick amber paste and rubbed a dab over my lips.
I went to the couch without putting on a clean shirt.
It would feel strange to wear his clothes.
Despite being exhausted, I was awake for hours considering my future.
What was the life expectancy of an assassin?
How long was an apprenticeship? Did I at least get paid for this?
My mind ran wild with possibilities, and images of vicious screaming vampires chasing me.
I finally fell into a fitful sleep and dreamed of fighting back rather than running.
Viper slashed blades through vampires with me beside him.
I was fearless, as I’d always wished to be. In my dreams, I was brave, a killer.
I woke with a start to sunlight shining through the arched windows in a dark stone room.
The violence in the recesses of my mind faded as I took in the airy cream curtains fluttering in a soft breeze.
This wasn’t my room. I was in Viper’s room.
I jolted upright and instantly regretted it.
I felt like I’d been stomped on by a horse, followed by a loaded wagon.
Viper’s bed was made and empty. I quickly scanned the room but didn’t see him. However, the entrance door was cracked. I slowly rose up, swearing under my breath at the aches. The soreness was worse than yesterday. I was halfway to the door when his voice stopped me.
“I don’t want to train her. Give her to Falcon or Ghost.”
My heart stumbled, and my cheeks burned.
Did he really think so low of me? I peered through the crack and saw who I assumed was Commander Locke in the corridor.
He had his mask off, and his salt-and-pepper dark hair was pulled back into a low ponytail.
He looked about my father’s age, fifty or so.
I recognized the amber eyes of the Commander I’d met the day before at The Sorting Rite.
“This is your assignment, Vander. It’s been two years. It’s time.” He was certainly Commander Locke. I recognized his voice, too.
“Then give me someone else.”
I winced at the demand in his tone. It wasn’t even simply that he didn’t want me as his apprentice, he was angry about it. He must think I’m a lost cause. He was wrong, and I would have to prove it.
“No.” He shoved a finger into Viper’s chest. “Do what you’re told to do, Vander, and don’t bring this up to me again. Wake her and bring her to the initiation breakfast.” He turned on his heel and disappeared.
I rushed back to the couch and slipped silently under the blanket and closed my eyes.
The door slammed, rattling the windows, and he whisked past me and pulled open the closet.
A moment later, he emerged with a book in one hand and a pile of black clothes in the other.
He dropped the book onto the side table by my head.
The loud crash was personal. “I have two rules: you do everything I say. No questions. And there will never be any feelings between us other than loyalty. I have your back, you have mine. That’s it. ”
There wouldn’t be any problems with feeling anything for him when he’d been an asshole to me since he found out I was his apprentice. “Perfectly understood, sir.”