Hunter waits for me several paces away, her silver-green eyes raw with sadness as she allows me to approach. It seems that the absence of emotion in my own eyes upsets her. Again, my power tells me this.
Slade is a protective force beside her. He is the first to speak. “Peyton?”
I focus on the important information. “Striker Draven doesn’t deserve to die today. But I can’t help him. He doesn’t have long to live.”
Maybe a little more time now that he absorbed some of the wand’s energy.
I continue, “Whatever power I had to heal someone else is gone now. If you wish to help him, you will take him to the Saber Lane Witch, Tanzanina Gray. What you do with him after that is up to you.”
“We’ll help him,” Hunter promises, glancing at Slade, who gives her a nod.
He quickly strides to Striker, carefully leveraging the dying hellhound into his arms before he shoots into the sky, disappearing with Striker within seconds.
“You will find four assassin’s rings in that box,” I continue to Hunter, pointing to a box that lies several paces away from Hadrix’s body. It’s the container in which he and Vulture kept the White Wand.
As I consider the box for a moment longer, I detect the scent of panther shifter blood that lingers around one of the rings within the box. I’m not sure how that blood got there, but it doesn’t matter to me right now.
“Thefifthring you seek is located inside a book in the fourth-floor library. It seems that all five rings were here after all.”
“All five,” Hunter whispers, her shoulders sinking with relief.
When I made my deal with her and the other assassins, Hunter revealed to me that Lady Tirelli had stolen five assassin’s rings, each one dangerous, and that Striker’s stepfather, Oliver, was using the missing rings to blackmail the assassins. Worse, if the Magical Magnate—the corrupt governing body of supernaturals—found out about the missing rings, they would use it as an excuse to take control of the assassins.
Hunter’s intense relief washes over me. She is bound by the Assassin’s Code. All of her kills must be sanctioned. She can’t take action against the corrupt or the cruel at her own whim.
I do not have such limits.
“The dryad can show you where the library is.” I point at Lucinda, ensuring Hunter knows she’s the dryad I’m speaking of before I return my attention fully to the assassins. “In the library, you’ll find the fifth ring inside a small compartment cut out of the pages of a book about hell and damnation. Specifically starting at the page about Furies.”
Lucinda seems to have given up on waiting for me to come to her. She hurries toward me before I can turn away from Hunter.
Lucinda reaches out for me but stops when my snakes arc toward her, forcing her to take a step back. Her eyes widen with shock. “Peyton?”
“Follow the assassins,” I say, stepping away from her.
“But…” She dares to snag my arm, searching my face. “Where are you going? You need to stay. We have to talk. We need to figure out the future…”
I give her a surprised glance. “Those decisions are yours, not mine. I’m going to find my sisters. I’m going to find a place without horror or pain.”
I need peace.
Even here, among those who try hard to rein in any darkness in their hearts, I am confronted by all of the emotions that can betray even the best of intentions.
Fear, most of all.
Easing out of Lucinda’s hold, I levitate upward, dragging in the clear air and exhaling the scent of blood as I rise all the way up into the clouds.
My sisters are calling me, beckoning me to my new home.
4. STRIKER DRAVEN
ONE WEEK LATER
Iwake in unfamiliar surroundings, finding myself lying on a large bed.
A blanket has been pulled to my chin. The room around me is simple but amply furnished: a bedside table, a large closet, and a bathroom to the side.
I’ve only surveyed the left side of the room when I realize the most alarming thing: I don’t feel any pain. Unexpectedly so.
