Shying away from those memories, I finish reading, wanting every detail. Lorenzo bribed Cosimo to carry out the execution in exchange for House Vitorio gaining favor with the most senior House Representative in the assembly. He also promised to make Cosimo Grand Master, a new position that wouldpubliclyoversee both sides of the Onyx Guild. Something that hasn’t yet happened. I wonder what the delay is and how Lorenzo is keeping Cosimo in line.
My anger rises as I continue to read and come to the crux of the contract. Lorenzo Medina’s own ambition is the reason Kas is dead. He wants the chancellor position. No surprise there. He intimated as much at the tavern meeting all those weeks ago. But a son in direct opposition to everything Lorenzo supports could undermine him. And if Lorenzo believed Kas’s affiliation with the coven was true, he’d consider him a threat. Even if he had his doubts about the rumor, strategically it would be better to eliminate the possibility. It’s what I would have suggested under different circumstances. Better safe than sorry. Especially since Lorenzo had no emotional connection to Kas.
And covens are independent of the Guild network. Something the guild masters have always hated. If Lorenzo promised to eliminate unaffiliated covens, he’d gain Guild support. If he has the backing of the Guilds, he’ll be in a position to win the chancellorship and could reward the guild masters with almost anything. So far, he has three of the major guilds in his pocket.
I throw the scroll across the room and scrub my face with my hands. It seems fate has decided what I should do about Nico. That’s more than I’ve accomplished on my own since our night together. I successfully focused on retrieving the contract, but for the past few weeks, more often than was comfortable, I’d been plagued with images of silver eyes and a deep voice, hands that know just how to touch me and where. It’s the reason I haven’t sought him out since. And good thing. Because all of that is impossible now.
As Lorenzo’s nephew, there’s no way for me to be sure if or how much Nico knows about the assassination or Lorenzo’s plans. He can’t be trusted. Ignoring the dull ache of disappointment, I consider next steps. My plans need to be reprioritized and expanded now that I have a complete picture of who my targets are. I’d prefer to go after Leonardo first since he wielded the dagger that killed Kas. But as a high-ranking member of House Keller, killing him could mean increased security around Guild Master Keller. So eliminating him will have to wait. But it makes sense why he was the one sent after us. Keller probably volunteered him. I could go after Lorenzo. He’s the most dangerous, but he’s also the highest profile and evenmore difficult to reach than the guild masters. It would be easiest to take out the four lower-ranking members of the Onyx and Diamond Guilds first, but it might alert the others and prompt them to increase protections. Which leaves Cosimo as the first target. Regardless, I’ll have to wait between each assassination to avoid anyone making a connection. But I have no other commitments and nothing to distract me now that Nico is truly off limits. I close my eyes and try to clear my mind and calm my racing heart. I should sleep. And when I wake up, it will be Guild Master Cosimo Vitorio’s turn to die.
Chapter 10
A Time to Regroup
Frustrated by the unsatisfying area for pacing in my tiny room, I drop into the chair and glare into the fire. Cosimo’s gone. He and several members of House Vitorio left this morning for Hap. The trip is supposedly for a contract negotiation, but word is spreading about the break-in at the Vault. This meeting could mean Assembly-level plotting or targeting. It could also mean Cosimo’s trying to calm fears and shore up allies. Either way, he’ll be gone for weeks, leaving me with nothing to do but wait. And that means lying low for Founder knows how long.
Too agitated to sit still, I thrust myself out of the chair and pace the room again. If I stay here, I’ll end up overthinking everything. Again. I need a distraction. For the first time in weeks, Iwillinglylet my thoughts drift to Nico. Not that he hasn’t been on my mind anyway. Even when I tried to stay focused on Cosimo, memories of that night, Nico’s beautiful face, and how good he felt would distract me.Doeshe know anything about Kas’s death? Is he disappointed that I haven’t tracked him down? It’s notlike I had a choice. He’s too close to everything, and if he’s at all involved—.
I make a disgusted noise, sick of the circles my thoughts run in if I let them. Fucking hells, I need to get out of this room and out of my head. Dousing the fire with a dampening spell, I castCloakingon myself and slip out of the inn, heading into the city with no particular destination in mind.
The streets are mostly quiet. I keep to the shadows and rooftops, and barring the random guard or two, who I easily avoid, I don’t encounter many people. It’s good to be in the fresh night air. As if leaving the cramped room has freed my lungs as well as my mind, I inhale deeply, and the tension leaves my shoulders. This is exactly what I need. Physical exertion has always been my way to relieve stress. I obviously haven’t been able to train the way I did on Earth or when I was with the Shabah, so it’s no wonder that after so many weeks I’m this tense. For the next several hours, I wander through the city, burning off the excess energy while trying not to think of anything at all.
It’s only when the larger homes and walled-off compounds come into view that I recognize I’ve drifted into the wealthier section of the city. If the high walls and sturdy gates hadn’t alerted me, the buzzing of protection spells on the properties would have. They thrum through the onyx in and on my body. Though none of those spells would keep me out if I really want inside.
My attention is snagged by deep, melodious laughter and slightly off-key singing coming from below me. I lean over the edge of the building I’m perched on, and watchthe revelers pass. Two men stumble down the street, trying to prop each other up. One tries to drink from a mostly empty bottle of wine, and the other switches between singing and slurring words while gesturing wildly. They pause beneath me, and I swear under my breath. The two drunken idiots are Marek and Nico.
“Best night of my life.” Nico gestures with his free hand. “But s’just a one-time thing. Neeeeever gonna happen again.”
Marek attempts to drink from the wine bottle. “Nicolas, stop. S’all you talk about. Who wants to hear ‘bout him again?”
Nico stops, grabbing Marek’s face with both of his hands, bringing their noses so close they could kiss. Something tightens in my chest, and I briefly wonder which of my daggers would make it to Marek the fastest. “You do not un’erstand. We had a c’nection.” Nico presses his hand over his heart. “Here. N’he wassohandsome. But he disappeared like smoke. Poof.” He makes a popping gesture with his fingers. “N’now I will never see him again. My Bello.” Nico pouts, and it’s in no way charming.
Marek tries several different ways to get the bottle to his lips with Nico’s hands pressed to his face. He only succeeds in pouring the remaining wine onto the ground. “Waste of wine.” He tosses the bottle into the gutter.
Nico lets go of him and stumbles a few paces, pointing at a massive iron gate protecting a lovely two-story villa, with arched windows and doors and a tiled fountain in the front courtyard. “You are home anyway. Go to sleep. I am going home too.”
Marek gazes at him like a lovesick puppy, and my insides roil. “You could stay with me. If you want.Iam here. I havealwaysbeen here.”
Seething, and not at all sure why these feelings are happening, I fight the urge to drop into the street and slit Marek’s throat. Or at least punch him squarely in the face. “I know. You are my bes’ friend. You have always been there for me, Marek.” Nico waves. “G’night. See you t’morrow.” He stumbles a few paces backward before tripping further down the street, missing the forlorn expression on Marek’s face and the way he dejectedly lurches through the gate and into his house. But I don’t.
I move silently down to street-level, keeping to the shadows until I catch up with Nico. “Seems like you could use some help.” I duck under his arm and slip my own around his waist, pulling him against my side.
He staggers a bit trying to stop. “Bello. You found me.” He tries to hug me, and we both crash into the nearest wall.
Chuckling, I struggle to keep us upright. “You are beyond drunk. This isn’t very safe behavior, Nico. What if I’d been a thief?” I grin at my own joke and purposely don’t pay attention to my pulse racing or how I can’t stop smiling.
Nico attempts his own bit of humor. “Maybe you’re the thief who stole my heart.” He leans his forehead against mine. “Missed you.”
Snorting, I pull him closer and scan the street, but it’s still empty. “Of course you did. What’s not to miss?” Nico rubs our noses together. Sober, it might have been cute. Drunk, it hurts, and I pull away. “Ouch.”
He snorts and leans his temple on the top of my head. “Sorry.”
“Come on. We need to get you home. Which one is yours?”
He gestures further down the street. “At th’end. The big one with th’iron gate. S’not mine though. S’my father’s.” He leans down to whisper loudly in my ear. “Mine is bigger.” He snickers and nudges my side, almost falling over in the process. “My house is in Bayit. On the coast. Mother left it to me.” He sighs dramatically. “I miss her.”
I push against him and get us moving in the direction of his vague wave. Can I get him to tell me anything useful while he’s drunk? That line of thinking goes a long way toward settling my nerves. I didn’t come out tonight looking for Nico. I only wanted to clear my head. But under these serendipitous circumstances, I might actually get some much-needed information. “I’m sorry, Nico. When did she die?”
He sighs. “I was fourteen. She died one month ‘n four days after my twelfth name-day. S’been…” He valiantly tries to count, and his total concentration on his fingers, rather than where he’s placing his feet, almost causes us to stumble. “Twenty years?” He’s pleased with himself. “See? Even after a few glasses of wine, I can still count.” Nico leans into me, pushing us toward my side of the street before gesturing to yet another two-story home protected by a stone wall. It has a tiled walkway that leads up to wide stone stairs, and a large wooden front door. There are wide pillars supporting a small second-story balcony surrounded by a wrought iron railing. “That one.”
