Emilio takes a seat on the stone bench, and I sit next to him. “Nico still believes that his instruction with knives was only typical self-defense training. He has no idea that he has a natural gift for it or was ever in imminent danger.”
“No. His trainers were instructed to play down his talent while ensuring he had enough knowledge to protect himself. And as I am sure he has told you, Nico still believes Sofia died of an illness. He is unaware that he was ever a target.”
Because he was raised to be a kind person and to look for the best in people. And surprisingly, most treat him kindly because of it. Though he’s no pushover. His skill at negotiation is impressive, and he’s demonstrated a distinct affinity for torment in the bedroom when the mood strikes. “I’m guessing he also has no clue that you are part of the Shabah.” Emilio shakes his head. “So you and Anna raised him when Stefano could not. What did you tell Nico?”
“That Stefano could not stomach the politics and infighting. Which was and is true.”
It holds with what Nico told me, and I’m grateful for the confirmation. “You taught him to believe the same?” Nodding, Emilio confirms my suspicions. “But the damage is done. Nico has no desire for a political life. So why align with me and risk being eliminated by House Medina?”
He looks directly at me. “Because those same people who tried to kill Nico before he was even born, who had hismother murdered to keep him from holding any power, are the same people who took out the contract on Kasimir to keep him from disrupting Lorenzo’s political climb. Because in you, we finally see an opportunity to take action. And House Durov will back you with every Shade they have to see vengeance done for the murder of a beloved daughter.”
It’s motivation I can fully get behind. “Then we work together to eliminate them all.”
Chapter 19
One by One
I enter Sanctuary and scan the taproom, signaling for a drink before moving to an empty table in the far corner. Sitting with my back to the wall as usual, I wait for my contact. Emilio facilitated this introduction, and I requested the face-to-face meeting to get a measure of the person I’m supposed to trust with my life’s mission.
As my drink arrives, so does my contact. The newcomer is diminutive, moving agilely through the tables directly for me. Right-handed. Two visible daggers. Without a doubt, there are more weapons secreted on them. They move confidently, gracefully, and are very aware of their surroundings. Definitely lethal. I can’t tell much more about them with a cloak masking most of their features. They approach and stop a few feet away. “How is the wine?” It’s a feminine voice.
Getting the preset identification phrase, I gesture for them to take a seat. “It’s better in Oht.” As they sit, they push back their hood. My Durov contact is a fair-skinned, petite, female-appearing person with long red hair woveninto a thick braid that disappears under the collar of her cloak. Her bright green eyes appraise me as I openly assess her. I gesture to my glass. “Would you like some? It’s not like home, but it’s decent enough.” She nods, and I signal for the barkeeper to bring a second cup. He comes over himself, setting it in front of my companion before retreating behind the bar.
She raises her cup to me, indicating her thanks. “Elanil.” I raise an eyebrow at her quizzically. “My name. It is Elanil.”
I dip my head slightly in her direction. “Elanil, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Not, I’m sure, as pleasurable as it is for you to meet me, but few things are.” I flash her my best smile.
There’s a slight tug at the corner of her mouth, but that’s the only reaction I get. She takes a sip of the wine. “What do you need my help with, Master al-Qadir?” She says it quietly enough but makes her point. She knows who I am and why we’re here. Right to business. I can appreciate that.
“There are eight targets. Each must be terminated, and because they’re so interconnected, there needs to be a delay between each to avoid alerting the others. I’ll take care of them myself.” My tone leaves no room for negotiation. I’m not giving anyone else the pleasure of these kills.
Elanil seems puzzled. “Then why do you need me?”
“I need someone to help determine their patterns and schedules. I don’t have time to follow all of them. And I need to know about changes to their routines immediately. It might mean they know they’re being followed. Or itcould give me an opportunity to eliminate them. So you’ll be my extra pair of eyes. Your help will be invaluable in bringing each of them the end they deserve.”
“Names?”
I appreciate her directness. “For now, we’ll start with Leonardo Santorini, Aadan Hawa, and Simon Brown—all Protectors in the Onyx Guild—and Benedito Sousa and Rhys Bowen, both legal council in the Diamond Guild. The rest I’m not willing to mention yet.” Her expression blanks, most likely as she commits the names to memory and connects what I’ve said with what I haven’t. There’s a clear moment when she glances at me and decides she doesn’t want to know who the other targets are.
With a nod, she stands. “I will contact you through a mirror if I have any news to share.” She pulls her hood over her flame-red hair and leaves.
Two days later, the small mirror in my pocket warms, and I activate the spell. Elanil appears, and before I can say anything, she does. “Tomorrow night. Segnature Coven House. A diamond in the rough.” Her image fades as the spell is dropped.
Well then. Tomorrow night it is.
I watch from the shadows as Benedito Sousa climbs the stone stairs to the front of the coven house and opens themassive wooden doors. All yesterday I scouted the building, noting the possible exits he could try to flee through. It’s how I discovered the rarely used door at the rear of the building, which will be my way in and out. I boost my cloaking spell and approach the entrance, checking for traps. Finding none, I slot my fingers into the gap between the door and the building and feel for the latch, pressing hard once I find it. Effortlessly, the door swings open. I slip through, quietly shutting it behind me. There are a few lanterns shedding enough light to see that I’m standing on a raised dais or altar. To my right are five long, intricately carved wooden shelves lining the wall. Each is filled with a well-organized assortment of gems in varying sizes, likely for ceremonial focus, and bundles of dried lavender and sage, for cleansing afterward. Spread out in front of the altar is a cavernous room with row upon row of wooden benches arranged in two sections, separated by a main aisle. With this many seats, the coven is either very well attended, or planning to attract a larger following.
Low voices drift from a doorway in the far-left corner of the room, so I take the left side aisle, silently crossing the offering circle carved into the floor. The onyx in my palm thrums to life, and I castListen, amplifying the murmured conversation.
“With Guild Master Vitorio dead, there has been fighting among those in House Vitorio, and it is not much better in the Onyx Guild. The Guild is a problem for someone else. There is no clear successor in either case. However, as I can claim lineage with House Vitorio, I have an opportunity to assume that position. But there is noguarantee that I have enough support to achieve my goal. If the coven backs my bid, it would add additional legitimacy to my claim. And I, of course, would owe the coven a debt, Prima Alicia.”
So, Benedito wants to rule House Vitorio. Unfortunately for him, he’ll never get the opportunity.
Prima Alicia’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “What form would repayment take?”
A chair creaks, and I imagine Benedito leaning forward conspiratorially. “It could take any number of forms. A tithe to the coven, a favor owed, to be paid at a later date; whatever you suggest.”
There’s a long pause, followed by the scraping of chairs and shuffling of robes. “You have the coven’s backing for a favor to be named in the future. Our formal endorsement will not happen until I have your oath for this favor in writing, with the Vitorio seal firmly stamped on the document.”
