calm facade I’d maintained exploded with his absence. I paced in front of Kost and gripped the back of my neck. Two threats against my people in one day. Both by Charmers. Just what were we really dealing with? Grinding my teeth, I paused and stared through the empty space where the man had been, right into the open cavern.
The sharp tang of magic rushed outward, racing over my skin and leaving a fresh sting in its wake.
How many dark mages were buried in this crypt? Their magic was a toxic lull that could weaken even the strongest of men. The fact the Charmer was unaffected only attested to his power.
And his arrogance. He’d called us here to show us what we’d be dealing with if we failed.
“Noc.” Kost gripped my wrist, and the harsh pressure of his fingers dulled the sultry whispers of dark magic. “We shouldn’t linger here.”
Shaking my head once, I turned on my heels and welcomed the odd relief that came with the swirling onyx vines and knotted trees of the Kitska Forest. We’d have to put distance between ourselves and the cavern before we could let the shadows carry us home. “We need to work. Fast.”
Kost matched my stride and side-eyed me. “Something’s wrong.”
“Of course something is wrong.” Twigs snapped beneath my feet as we walked, and I focused on the sound to stay calm. “Our client is brazen. Our mark is brave. We’ve never had so much interaction before. It’s unsettling to say the least.”
“Our mark is brave?” Kost pursed his lips. “Bravery means nothing in our line of work. You know that. We’ve killed honorable people for less.” He pushed aside a branch laden with pinesco pods and stepped through, holding the leaves back until I passed. “Tell me what’s really bothering you. Is it the curse? I’m fine. I can assure you, I—”
“I have it under control.”
Competing emotions flickered across his expression. Relief. Hurt. Something I couldn’t place. For a moment, I set aside my usual frozen detachment and placed a hand on his shoulder, letting the smallest measure of my true feelings show through. “I’m glad you’re unharmed. It would have killed me to lose you.”
And I swear I saw it. The first signs of my curse. The subtle darkening bags beneath his eyes. Skin chafing and faintly cracking around his lips. Next would come the cough flecked with blood. Then a fever. Then death. I’d seen all those symptoms play out before in my past. Twice with people I loved romantically. Countless more times with those I loved platonically.
Once with Kost, when I let the true depth of my brotherly affection show. He’d nearly died, saved only by my ability to wrestle my emotions into an icy cage and detach from my feelings. It’d taken weeks for him to recover, and the callousness I’d been forced to exude still hung heavy over my head. But it’d saved his life.
Chills skittered down my neck, and I removed my hand. Kost tracked the progression with keen eyes. Only he and Talmage knew of the curse and what it meant. Anything beyond the most tenuous bonds always ended in death.
“Let’s get back. We need to prepare for our journey.” Shadows began to fester beneath us as the vortex to Cruor opened. I could keep up this distance from my brethren for the rest of my life if need be. Anything to keep them safe. But there was a glimmer of hope now.
One that bloomed from a bestiary belonging to a curious Charmer waiting for us back home.
* * *
The moment our feet crossed Cruor’s threshold, my pulse returned to acceptable levels. My foul mood, however, did not dissipate. The quiet halls whispered of Leena, of her presence in my home, and assassins stuck to themselves to avoid my fried nerves.
Sinking into the armchair, I stared at Talmage’s portrait. There were still matters left unattended. “Who stays to run things while I’m gone?”
Kost’s voice wavered. “As your second, I understand it’s my duty to rule in your stead. But we don’t know what she’s capable of.” He ghosted his fingertips along his forearms where her beast had pinned him.
“Not to mention our clients.” Bile soured my tongue. “You’re coming. So are Calem and Ozias.”
With a tight nod, he settled back into his usual calculated demeanor. He retrieved a white cloth from his breast pocket, removed his glasses, and began to polish his lenses. “As much as I hate to admit it, that leaves Darrien