| |
––––––––
WORT AND HOVNAR WERE crouched together in the hedge that faced Sebastian’s mansion. They’d been taking turns watching the property and had identified a pattern. The master vampire went out most nights, probably to meet with other rebels, leaving his pet assassin at home. Lord Kreaton had sent a letter to the satyr last night asking him what was taking so long to eliminate his target. Wort knew he had to finish the mission tonight, or risk facing the Immortal Triumvirate’s wrath.
“If Sebastian sticks to his usual schedule, he’ll be back within the hour,” Wort whispered to Hovnar.
The vampire nodded almost imperceptibly. “We’d better move closer, so we can be in range to strike when he arrives.”
They were both using the potion the satyr had purchased, but kept downwind as they crossed the street to the driveway. Wort kept his binoculars trained on the house and followed his dark-skinned ally over to the dense shrubs to the left of the driveway. “This should be close enough,” he said when they were several hundred yards away from the house.
“I’ll get into position,” the African bloodsucker said. “We’ll only have one shot at this, so don’t screw it up.”
The satyr lowered the binoculars long enough to give him a feral grin. “I was about to say the same thing to you,” he said. “You’re the novice here. I’ve been an assassin for the past four centuries.”
Hovnar had to concede that the goat-man was speaking the truth. “I won’t fail,” he vowed, then sped over to the house and vanished around the side.
Wort knelt down and exchanged the binoculars for a small, but powerful crossbow. He’d practiced with it extensively since he’d been given the order to kill the master vampire. The sight was true and he knew he wouldn’t miss his mark when the moment came.
Sebastian might be one of the most powerful master vampires in Nox, but he’d grown predictable. He always returned home a couple of hours before dawn and he was usually alone. Every few nights or so, a magic user wearing a hooded cloak would teleport to the house to visit the assassin. Another cloaked figure would turn up by carriage. The pair would stay for a few hours before leaving well before Sebastian would return home. Neither visitors were due to arrive tonight.
About an hour later, wind rushed past Wort as his target sped past him so quickly that he was a mere blur. The satyr looked down the telescopic sight of the crossbow and held his breath when the door opened. Just like every other night he’d spied on his quarry, the female assassin was there to greet Sebastian. She was pretty enough and looked fae, but Wort wasn’t sure exactly what she was. He pulled the trigger and the bolt flew home. It hit the woman in the throat and Sebastian froze in shock.
Hovnar went into action just as they’d planned. He leaped off the roof with his sword extended. He brought it down on the master vampire’s head as he landed and it cut through his foe. Instead of falling to the ground dead, Sebastian and his assassin lover shimmered, then vanished.
Wort felt someone standing behind him. He spun around to see a sword whooshing towards his neck. He dropped the crossbow, somersaulted backwards and landed on his hooves holding two long daggers. The figure who accosted him was dressed in black from head to toe. Pale yellow eyes glowered at him and the satyr paused in shock. “Malachi?” he asked as he walked backwards towards Hovnar.
“Surprise!” the incubus said. “I bet you never thought you’d see us again.”
Wort glanced over his shoulder to see two women herding his vampiric ally out into the open. They also held swords and wore black. He recognized Eden and Sorcha immediately, despite not having seen them for a decade. “You’re all rebels?” he asked, feeling a strange sense of pride that his students had somehow outwitted the Immortal Triumvirate.
“Yep,” Eden said without taking her eyes off the bloodsucker. She didn’t know who he was, but she knew he was fast and that he would be deadly. “We cut our ties to our leaders and switched sides.”
“We’ve also broken the barriers Lord Dallinar placed in our minds to suppress our power,” Sorcha added. “We can access all of our fae magic now.” She held her left hand out and formed a spear made of ice, then hurled it at her former trainer.
Wort sidestepped the spear and grinned even though he suspected he was about to die. “You three are the best students I’ve ever trained,” he said gruffly. “Let’s see just how good you are.” He leaped at the sorceress, but she wasn’t there when he landed. Eden’s sword swept towards him and he parried it with a dagger, then lunged at her. The succubus was as fast as a snake and spun away from his weapon.
Malachi engaged the leech with his sword and conjured up an invisible spear of air with his free hand. Hovnar’s eyes widened and he barely managed to duck beneath it when his foe tossed it in his direction. He cursed when the tip of the invisible weapon scored a shallow cut in his shoulder.
Sorcha teleported behind the vampire and swept her sword at his neck. The leech sensed her and spun around to block the blade with his own sword. He struck at her, but she shifted behind him again. Hovnar was caught between the two deadly assassins and leaped up onto the roof. Sorcha cast a sheet of ice onto the shingles and he slid off and nimbly landed on his feet.
Eden blasted Wort with a fireball, but the satyr dropped to the ground and rolled to put the flames out. He slashed at her legs with his daggers and she backed up a couple of steps. Their former mentor had the advantage, since he’d trained all three of them. He’d been a killer for far longer than they’d been alive and he didn’t have a conscience. It didn’t matter that he’d raised them for ten years and was the only father figure they’d ever known. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill them if it meant he could save his own life.
Sorcha could have ended the fight before it even started, but she felt as if they owed Wort a fair chance. They didn’t owe the unknown vampire anything, so she waited until Malachi distracted him, then encased the leech in ice. Completely frozen, his face was contorted in a desperate sneer and his sword was raised to slice Malachi’s throat open.
“Thanks, feeble one,” the incubus said.
“Don’t mention it,” the sorceress replied, then sent a blast of air at the vampsicle. He shattered into thousands of pieces and shards of frozen flesh flew in all directions.
Eden glanced over when she was spattered with dead vampire, then had to block a flurry of strikes from twin daggers as Wort took advantage of her distraction. Malachi raced over and sliced at the satyr’s back. Wort sensed the attack and twisted sideways to avoid his sword.
Sorcha watched the siblings work together. Not even their combined efforts were enough to defeat their old trainer. Wort was in his element. He grinned widely as his daggers deflected the sword strikes. He stabbed Eden in the side, then scored a cut on Malachi’s cheek. Sorcha joined the fight and her blade streaked through the air towards the satyr’s neck. Wort caught her sword on one dagger and lunged forward to sink the other one into her stomach, but she vanished before it could skewer her.
Eden’s wound had healed and Malachi’s face was also unmarked. Wort didn’t have a scratch on him so far, but they had his measure now. He’d trained them for a full decade, yet they’d never really seen him in action. They could now see why the Immortal Triumvirate had tasked him with creating a stable of assassins. None of them would have been able to kill him on their own, but they knew they could best him together.
