Is it still a trap if I know about it?
Maybe. Maybe not.
I suddenly narrow my eyes at James. “You’ve been out of his inner circle for weeks now. How do you know about this?”
“I have a contact in the gargoyle clan,” he says. “Someone who isn’t so happy with her clan’s leadership?—”
He doesn’t have time to say more because across the clearing, Rebella suddenly startles.
“Incoming!” she cries.
“Ours or Taiven’s?” James asks, his shoulders tense as he rises half out of the seat.
“Ours.” Her eyes are wide. “But that’s just as fraught. You know how protective they are. Veda’s intentions have been very unknown. They will fear the worst and attack first. They will think only of protecting me.”
My senses are prickling and my back is suddenly itching like mad. That unwanted crawling sensation floods me, as if my wings will release despite my efforts to control them.
My focus is drawn to the sky, but I can’t see past the canopy of branches.
I find myself bracing for the ear-splitting sound I would hear each time the air dragons visited the island, because the power currently screaming in our direction is as immense as that of the dragon masters.
My claws snap out and I’m on my feet in an instant. “Who are they?”
James grimaces. “Assassins.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
The branches above me billow violently as two figures drop into the clearing only ten paces away.
I get a split-second glimpse of what must be wings, although it’s difficult to tell the color because of the glow around them both. An electric-blue energy that swirls powerfully in the air between them, a connection that takes my breath away.
One is a woman, the other a man. Both are taller than me. Their muscles are clearly defined by black, skin-tight clothing that conforms to their bodies and extends from the tops of their boots to the bottoms of their chins.
The woman has mahogany-brown hair pulled back in braids and bright green eyes that speak to an intelligence of mind. Judging by the smoothness of her skin, she might be only a few years older than me, but it’s hard to tell with supernaturals. Even Anarchy looks twenty-five despite being thousands of years old.
The man has dark brown hair with a wave in it. It frames his unforgiving features: a strong jaw, a slight cleft in his chin, and eyes with silver streaks in them.
They’re both focused entirely on me.
It looks as if Rebella is about to jump in front of them, but they’re already storming toward me and I don’t blame her for staying out of the way.
Judging by their intense focus on me, she should not get between them and me.
My mother would have told me to run from this fight. They aren’t holding any visible weapons, but that doesn’t mean anything. Assassins can kill just as effectively with their bare hands.
It isn’t cowardice to understand when an opponent is stronger than I am. And I have far more important battles ahead of me today.
So, in the heartbeat that I have left before they reach me, I touch the rune behind my ear, seeking the three little bumps Orlan mentioned.
They’re gone.
So is my easy way out of here.
While Rebella has lurched back, James is also on his feet, urgently holding out his hand to me. “Come with me!”
It doesn’t matter if I would have accepted his help.
The assassins move unbelievably fast.
