Chapter 71 Kaden
KADEN
The abandoned city of Sumaril
Isaiah fisted a gold coin from his pocket, tossing the worn disc toward me. I caught it, clutching its familiar shape in my palm.
“Are you still pissed they said no?” I asked.
Isaiah grunted. “Everyone assumes the worst of me.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that. She is their family, and working together or not, they don’t trust us.”
“You’re right,” he said with a sigh, resolve settling into his eyes. “They do only know the worst of us, and I can appreciate that they would protect her. I just … I don’t know.”
I knew what he meant because I felt the same way about Dianna.
He just wanted to be near her. That was the simplest explanation.
I also knew Isaiah wished for family and inclusion.
It was why he and I both clung so desperately to Nismera.
But we needed to remember that even though we were stuck working together, Samkiel’s and Dianna’s loyalties lie with The Hand and their family, and that did not include us.
We needed to take care of ourselves as we always had, and my job was to make sure Isaiah survived this experience.
The city was nothing but rotting buildings and cracked stone roads.
The main courtyard we stood in was lined with deteriorating carved stone benches and dead, twisted bushes.
A fountain celebrating Sumaril acted as the centerpiece, the lingering water at the bottom as murky and dirty as the streets we stood on.
The once-proud queen and long-dead ruler looked forward, her face and body completely covered except for her eyes.
Her hands were folded neatly, and to anyone who did not know, they would assume she was some kind of saint.
Maybe one you would pay tribute to for peace, health, and fortune, but it was a lie.
What you paid for here was blood. It was what her followers stood for, and that was why we were here.
“Some say the fountain is haunted since it never cracks or wears,” Isaiah said, staring up at the queen.
“It’s not haunted. It’s guarded,” I said, flipping the coin with my thumb.
The gold disk spun through the air, landing in the water with a thick plop.
Darkness fell, and seconds turned into minutes.
To the naked eye, it was just Isaiah and me.
You wouldn’t notice the hundreds of lethal assassins surrounding us unless you knew what to look for.
Every dark park of this city, every shadow, contained a trained killer, and every eye was on us.
“You can see me, but I can’t see you?” I whistled, rocking on the balls of my feet, my hands in my pockets. “No one likes a tease.”
The shadows near the left side of the fountain rose, and a slender female figure stepped out.
Her hair was the color of melted chocolate and combed in finger waves that curved against her face.
Her exposed skin was a flawless light brown, but most of it was covered by the jet-black leathers clinging to her curves.
A dark corset with silver latches snatched her waist tightly, the hood attached to the back capping her head and throwing her face into deeper shadows.
Blades lined her bare arms, dark straps and sheaths lending credence to the reality of her dangerous beauty.
Against my better judgment, I could not stop myself from appreciating the toned muscles of legs that folded with easy grace as she walked toward me.
My gaze naturally moved up her body, all sleek curves and damning lines.
I may be dead, but I was still just a man.
“The sons of Unir,” she said as she sized us up, returning the favor. “You’re as pretty as your father.”
“You knew our father?” Isaiah whistles. “You don’t look old enough.”
Her brow arched. “You are lucky you’re so attractive because if that is how you flirt, I pity your partners.” I snorted, drawing her attention back to me. “And yes. I do,” she said, answering Isaiah’s question.
“Do?” I asked.
“Don’t you know he walks this plane?” she asked, tilting her head.
Both of us froze. “What?” I demanded.
“He came back as a ghost. Well, I suppose I walked through our doors and collected a debt. The one you made is aware of it. She was a part of that debt.”
I caught the slump of Isaiah’s shoulders from the corner of my eye.
I knew what he was feeling. We knew why Samkiel and Dianna wouldn’t tell us.
They didn’t trust us any more than we trusted them.
For Isaiah, it was worse than that. Unir was back on this plane and had not sought to contact either of us.
Unlike Isaiah, I had long lost any affection toward the male who made me, but him?
Isaiah hid it behind a false bravado, but once he loved, it was until death, no matter what they said or did to him.
It was a flaw I knew might be his downfall.
“And where is he now?”
She sat on the edge of the fountain, crossing one slender leg over the other. “Beats me. I haven’t seen him in weeks. Maybe the other side took him back.”
My jaw clenched. Not for myself, but because I knew that information hurt Isaiah.
“So tell me,” the beautiful assassin purred. “What brings the sons of Unir here?”
I hid nothing. I explained to her why we were there and what we were doing. She stared at me once I was done, the look in her eyes unimpressed.
“And you want us to bow to Samkiel, correct? The king of gods?” Her head tilted.
“You’re a king. You don’t want us for yourself?
Both you and your brother are royalty, with the same bloodline and powers, more or less.
Having shadows at your beck and call would be a force to be reckoned with.
You could take us and start work on your own kingdom, one that would rival even your sister’s. ”
Silence fell across the courtyard.
“You have the power to do it, too. I heard of Onuna,” she said, eyeing me up and down as if she wished to consume me. “You could build it here, start from scratch. I could help you.”
Her words dripped with a promise that a part of me recognized.
It was a predator’s willingness to do whatever it takes to survive.
Blood, teeth, and claws against a world that would turn on you the second you exposed your neck.
At one time, I would have accepted her offer, but now I didn’t feel even a rattle of interest. Beautiful or not, it changed nothing. “You think I will betray him?”
Her smile was slow, and that of a predator playing with a mouse. “It is in your nature.”
“Perhaps before,” I said almost somberly. “Perhaps people can change.”
Her eyes scanned my face, her stare bordering on uncomfortable for me. It was as if she saw past all my barriers to the very core of me.
“He’s all around you, isn’t he?” I blinked, and she was in front of me as if the shadows had eaten her and spat her at my feet. I didn’t flinch as she gazed up at me, her head tipped back. She reached up and tugged the balaclava down, revealing the bottom portion of her face.
“Who?” Isaiah asked, protectively stepping a fraction closer, but I already knew who she spoke of.
“Death.” Her eyes never left mine, even as she answered my brother. “You’ve crossed the veil and returned.” Her hand raised, placing her palm flat against my chest. I felt the heat of her skin trying to warm my own through my shirt, my nerves prickling at the sensation. “But apparently very solid.”
My hand snapped out, grabbing her wrist and throwing her hand off of me. “Don’t touch me.”
The shadows had drawn near, ready to strike at her command. She signaled for them to retreat, but none of them moved. I knew every pool of darkness contained a blade tipped with poison, held in the hands of beings ready to strike.
“Very well. I’ll wait until you ask.” Her eyes cut to Isaiah and then back to me before she lifted a brow. “So you don’t want the crown, either?”
He shook his head no.
She glanced at her nails like a bored house cat. “Hmm, and Samkiel wishes to use the blades of Sumaril. He does know what our business is, correct? We don’t speak of justice in the same way he does. There is no right or wrong here, neither black nor white. We do not see the world in those colors.”
“He is aware.”
Her hand dropped. “Yet he asks?”
“Technically,” I swallowed, “it was my idea.”
“That, I can believe, and why would you do that?” she asks, a slow, seductive smile crossing her face.
“You are one of the few remaining rebellious factions Nismera hates and can never tame. How can you control darkness if you can never touch it? I also know your numbers far outweigh her legion, and as you said, you have not intervened due to the morality none of you possess. While kind in his own right, my brother thinks he can win wars based on information, strategy, and ancient oaths. We know those no longer apply here. Samkiel will not raise his blade first. No matter what he says, he will not kill first. He bleeds righteousness, so he needs an army that does not. So what will it take for you to follow?”
Her brows rose and fell, a soft snort leaving her nostrils. “Well, you sure know how to flatter a girl.” Her eyes cut to Isaiah. “Unlike your brother.”
I couldn’t keep the smirk from my lips. I did not come here for flirting, yet it seemed that was her native tongue, and I would be lying if I said it wasn’t both flattering and fun.
“You are wrong, though,” she said, turning away from us.
“About what?”
“That perfect reputation and his prestigious crown,” she said, tossing the words over her shoulder. A shaft of light hit her face. Her full lips were pulled into a smile, and her hazel eyes sparkled. “He’d tarnish it for her.”
She turned back, the shadows at the edge of the fountain preparing to greet her.
“Wait,” I said. “You didn’t answer me.”
She didn’t stop but spun, continuing to walk backward as she pulled the balaclava up to cover her face once more.
“I already pledged my allegiance, but it is not to Samkiel. It is to his queen. Her, I will follow. Her, I will fight for.” The assassin’s dark gaze flashed to a shadow lingering near one of the benches, and I could tell by the softening of her eyes that it held someone precious to her. “Her, I owe a life debt to.”
She stepped into the shadow by the fountain, slipping in with ease and disappearing as if the darkness were physical. The shadows evaporated at her departure, the darkness no longer surrounding the courtyard as the queen of assassins left.
“Well,” Isaiah sighed, “she was fun.”