in charge.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I groaned. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
“If it’s necessary, I’ll stay—”
“No. Like you said, we don’t know what kind of arsenal she has. I’d rather have my strongest with me. Darrien will be fine. If not, I’ll kill him.” Shrugging, I pushed out of the chair. My legs itched to move. To act. To do something, anything, to get this deal over with. Somewhere in my halls, Leena was settling in for the night. In my own damn house. “She was surprisingly bold.”
Kost cleared his throat. “There you go again. Bold, brave… Since I wasn’t there for the bargaining, is there anything else I need to be aware of?”
It’d been fifty years since I’d been raised. Thirty since he’d watched me pine over someone I couldn’t have. Twenty since the curse had nearly claimed him. He was perpetually poised for me to cave again, no matter how absurd the notion was. “What are you really asking?”
His expression remained indifferent. “I simply wish to be prepared. I shall begin travel arrangements, then. We’ll have to take the train to Eastrend and find mounts there.”
“Perfect.” I started to pace.
“Noc.” Kost’s tone rooted my feet in place. “Be careful. If something happens while we’re gone, I won’t be able to contact a mage quickly enough.” With a pointed stare, he targeted the ring on my finger. Silver scales layered upon a heavy band surrounded an intense emerald in the center. The key to my secret and the life I had before I died.
“Understood.” Fingering a strand of black hair that should’ve been white, I let out a tight sigh. Leave it to him to unearth something better left buried without even mentioning the topic. “Go. Get everything together so we can leave the day after tomorrow.”
He was gone in a flurry of darkness before I could finish my sentence.
The fire crackling in the hearth seemed to laugh. A job in my home. A job that would take me away from Cruor and leave Darrien in charge. A job with clients more sinister than the job itself.
I leaned against the mantel, tipping my head to the ceiling. This job could provide safety and a cure. It had to be worth the risk. What would it be like to allow myself to feel something as simple as affection again? Love? Even the thought set me back, had me reflexively tensing. Notions like that were dangerous.
Cure first, wishful thinking later.
My moment of solitude was shattered by the sudden swell of shadows slinking across the floor. They pooled at the foot of the stairs and burst outward in a flood of dark mist. Darrien appeared, steel-toed boots clacking against tile as he strode toward me. Smoky tendrils lingered in the curls of his shoulder-length brown hair, and a smile pulled at the edges of his lips.
“So I couldn’t help but overhear—”
I repressed a snarl. “Sure you could have. Yes, you’ll be in charge while I’m escorting the Charmer. It’s only temporary. Don’t get any ideas.”
His grin deepened. “Of course not. Talmage named you our leader, and so out of respect for him, I will obey.” Amber eyes sparked, and he folded his arms across his chest. Darrien was the oldest member of Cruor. Everyone, myself included, had expected him to inherit the guild when Talmage passed. He had been loyal. Efficient. A friend, even, to Talmage. But when I was named, something snapped. Something I couldn’t prove or pinpoint, but I knew he considered our late guild master’s last ruling a betrayal. He knew nothing of my past or how I came to be, but if he did, he’d use it against me to divide our ranks. To take what he thought was his.
Possessiveness, heated and angry, simmered beneath layers of iron control. Cruor was mine. I couldn’t deny Darrien his place here. He’d never overtly stepped out of line, but calculated indifference was almost as dangerous as a formulated attack.
Darrien shifted under the weight of my stare, rustling the bow strapped to his back. Unlike most of us, relying on shadow blades and close-combat killing, Darrien molded arrows from the dark to do his bidding.
A sword? Fine. Battle ax? Sure. But there was something about killing from a distance that soured my mouth. Anyone who wasn’t willing to get a little blood under their nails wasn’t worth trusting. Not in our line of work.
“Any specific tasks I need to be aware of?”
“You’ll need to assign any jobs that