It’s what she should have been given.
I clear my throat, focusing on the sky visible through the window. “Have you seen her?”
Lucinda shakes her head. “Only Hunter has.”
Accepting that, I turn away from the bedroom door and pass across to the wide windows at the side of the walkway, taking in the lush garden below.
Instead of the training yard, it now contains multiple large trees, a myriad of bushes, and several log contraptions that puzzle me.
“It looks very peaceful from up here,” Lucinda says, giving me another wink, “but there’s a combat labyrinth down there that helps us stay in touch with our inner monsters.”
I allow myself to smile at that. Lucinda is a dryad. Her affinity with nature would have allowed her to make all sorts of changes to this environment.
The changesshedeserves.
Her hand brushes my arm, a tentative touch. “The others would like to see you. Would that be okay?”
“Yeah.”
I follow her to the old dining room, where I first laid eyes on Peyton, finding it as bright as the rest of the building.
Joseph waits at the door, his dark-blond hair even messier than it used to be. He extends his hand to shake mine. “Striker.”
“Joseph.”
Joseph is a Draugr—an undead warrior—whose monster form matches my own in stature and strength.
Inside the room, Lachlan, Ashley, Ryan, and Bree wait for me, their eyes bright, their handshakes strong until Ashley forgoes the handshake for a hug that snatches the breath out of my chest.
She has long, straight blonde hair, and she’s wearing what appears to be a custom-made mask over her eyes that fits her perfectly. As a gorgon, her unfettered gaze turns anyone to stone, no matter if she wants that to happen or not.
I suspect that her mask may be made from a similar material to the assassins’ protective suits, except that it must be modified to ensure she can see out without hurting anyone.
Lachlan is an enenra—a demon of smoke and ash—and in his monster form, he is unkillable. Bree is a siren, whose sharp teeth are currently nowhere to be seen, although her voice carries a melodic lilt when she greets me. Ryan is a fucking scary wendigo, whose hunger for flesh is insatiable—despite the fact that in his human form, he’s vegetarian.
When I take a seat, they ask me questions about the Legion and the Master Assassins and about my life now, and they’re happy to tell me about the new Unknowns and that Alison keeps trying different recipes that sometimes don’t work.
Observing them as they talk, I begin to wonder about the way Lucinda had winked at me when she told me the Guardian has eyes everywhere.
“When was your last mission?” I ask.
The room is suddenly silent.
After a glance at the others, Bree gives me a bright smile. “We help out when we can. Strictly no killing, but we have particular skills that the Guardian can use.” She leans forward and hums with a smile. “For example, if you were one of my targets, I might ask you to tell me what you did last night.”
As a siren with the power to compel obedience with her spoken commands, Bree would certainly make a good interrogator.
I grin at her, knowing thatsheknows she has no effect on me.
Still, I choose to answer her question. “I slept. Soundly, actually.”
She pulls back with a fading smile. “I still have nightmares sometimes.” She reaches for Ryan’s hand, and he grips it tightly. “We all do. But we’re healing. Slowly.”
I give her a nod. Healing from years of trauma like we went through can only happen slowly.
Before I leave, Ashley approaches me to give me another hug. She raises her eyes to mine. “Striker?”
“Yeah.”
