off his daughters.
Things was about to get interesting.
Susanna de Tiegh de Dere wasn’t just any woman – she was a female warrior, trained from an early age and finishing her training at the most elite knight’s training guild in England, Blackchurch. Everyone knew Blackchurch knights were the best of the best and Susanna was one of the rare female graduates. She’d learned from the best warriors the world had to offer and she was the only warrior, so far, who had given his daughters pause.
As Maxton watched in terror, Susanna and Danae had a sword fight to end all sword fights. Maxton had never seen its equal. Susanna was using all of her Blackchurch techniques and Danae was matching her blow for blow. When Ceri got too close, Susanna lashed out a booted foot and shoved the little girl aside.
Danae backed away while Ceri got to her feet.
For a moment, the fight paused.
“You are good, Susannah,” Danae said in a voice that sounded far too mature for her years. “I remember being told that you were an excellent warrior.”
Susanna didn’t lower her guard. “I am the best you will face,” she said. “You shall not pass, Danae. I will not let you.”
Danae had her mother’s tall, elegant build, even at her young age, but as Maxton watched, she seemed to grow taller. She was becoming a young woman right before his eyes, maturing into what eventually looked like his wife. As he stared in shock, he realized that he was looking at Andressa. His tall, beautiful wife was facing off against a Blackchurch-trained knight.
Oh, God… she’ll never survive!
“Tell me where the baby is,” Andressa said.
Susanna stood firm. “I will not.”
Andressa didn’t look like herself. Certainly, it was her, but she seemed like a darker version of her usual radiant self. Her eyes were black and sunken, and her skin was gray in pallor. She was looking at Susanna was soulless eyes.
“You cannot save him,” she said. “Remember that I am a killer of nuns, Susanna. One more dead woman will not matter to me.”
Susanna held her sword in a defensive position. “This is not your fight,” she said. “Go away, Andressa. I will deal with your daughters alone.”
Andressa shook her head. “Maxton trained them well,” she said. “All of those years of his tales of glory. They learned from them. This is a fight you cannot win.”
“I can try.”
Andressa turned her back on Susanna but when she turned around again, she was Danae. It occurred to Maxton that his daughter was shape-shifting right before his eyes. The horror he was feeling at this entire situation was intensifying.
“Susanna,” he said hoarsely, knowing it was futile. “Please… please do not hurt my daughters, I beg of you.”
Susanna abruptly turned to him, her eyes widening at the sight. “Maxton?” she gasped. “What are you doing here? Are you to side with your children, too?”
Shocked that Susanna had heard him, Maxton stepped forward. “I will always protect my children, but I do not know what is happening,” he said, feeling desperate. “Why are they here?”
“To kill the child, of course,” Susanna said. “I am told they have orders to slice the baby.”
Maxton could hear his own words reflected back at him. He shook his head, baffled. “Nay,” he said. “They have no orders. I told them… stories. So many stories. God, is it true? Did they learn from the stories I told them?”
Susanna was starting to look different. Fearful. It wasn’t Susanna at all. “You trained them well, Maxton,” she said. “They are the most feared assassins in all of England and no one can control them. If you are not giving them orders, who is?”
Maxton’s mouth popped open in astonishment, in horror. “I do not know,” he whispered, looking at his girls as they began to converge towards Susanna. “I cannot ask them. They do not listen to me.”
Susanna could see them, too, and she began to back away. “There is no hope, Maxton,” she said. “No one suspects children as assassins. What is it that you have done?”
As Maxton watched, his girls leapt on Susanna. Swords were flying, as were fists and hair and feet. It looked like a big tangle of limbs. Oddly enough, there was no blood. Just growling, snarling. But the fight eventually died down and his girls came away with tufts of Susanna’s hair, part of her clothing, and nothing else. Susanna’s body was gone.
There was nothing left of her.
Maxton’s daughters were on the move again.
He followed, anxiety