Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Death is slightly overrated, even if it is useful.”

Nathaniel Black stepped farther out from the shadows until he was a few feet from Kat, an expression of grim weariness on his stubble-covered face as he stared at her. “However, as you can see, I’m very much alive. Slightly scarred and certainly not the trusting fool I once was, but alive nonetheless.”

Her eyes darted to the mottled patch of his skin stretching along the left side of his neck up to the lower portion of his mouth. Burn marks, and bad ones at that. Scars that hadn’t been there when she’d last seen him alive three years ago.

“It’s good to see you, Kat. I’ve missed you and our sparring rounds.” He glanced down at the knife she was holding. “And I see you still prefer your dagger.”

Surprises didn’t usually trip her up as she’d been trained to adapt to the unexpected. But this was something else entirely. This was Nathaniel, back from the dead. “Everyone thinks you died in a bomb blast in Paris…”

“I know.”

It was as if she was looking at a ghost. A ghost bearing remnants of the young man she’d trained with. A young man she’d laughed with. A young man she’d shared her first kiss with. But gone was the lighthearted adventurer and in his place was a man with eyes haunted by vengeance and sorrow. An expression she recognized, having regularly seen it herself in her own mirror.

“You’d better start telling me what’s going on,” Kat said, her fingers clenching the hilt of her dagger tighter.

“I can explain.” He held up his hand, almost in a placating manner.

“Then do so, for my patience is wearing thin.”

A brief smile flicked up at the corner of his lips. “You were never patient when it came to anything, except of course for your training.”

“You remember correctly.” She smiled before swiftly moving in toward him and pressing the knife to his neck, while simultaneously grabbing her second dagger with her free hand and pressing it against the junction of his legs. Light enough not to cut him, but close enough that she could do so with barely a movement. “But you’ve clearly forgotten what I do to those who try my patience.” She emphasized her words by pressing both daggers a bit closer to him. “Was it you that tried to kill Sir William?”

There was a hint of confusion as he peered at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The old dagger Victor gave you just so happened to be used in an attempt on Sir William’s life, and here you are only an hour or so later, back from the dead. Too much of a coincidence I’d say.”

He pressed his lips together. “I didn’t try to kill Sir William.”

“Then tell me what you’re doing here, and stick to the truth, Nathaniel.” She stared intently into his eyes, willing him to see how serious she was. “You know I could always tell when you were lying. And you know what I do to those who lie to me.”

He didn’t flinch. “I will tell you the truth, Kat. At least as much as I can. But, first, you must promise not to tell anyone I’m alive. And I do mean anyone. Not even Marcus.”

His words answered a silent question she’d been wondering herself. “He really doesn’t know you’re alive?”

“Not a clue.”

“What about your mother and sister? Sir William?”

“No one knows, except you.”

“Why me?”

“Because I’ve information for you, but I must have your word first.”

She paused for a second, then shook her head. “I can’t promise you anything, at least not until I know what’s going on. And do start talking soon, for my hands are tiring and I’d hate for them to accidentally slip.” She emphasized her words by pressing her blades closer to him.

But rather than balk, he laughed. “You always did have pluck. I’ll give you that. But lower your weapons a little, would you?” he murmured, glancing down at the knife near to his nether regions. “A man can’t really think when his jewels are threatened.”

It was something the old Nathaniel would have said, and for a second a bittersweet nostalgia rose in her throat. She did miss those days. Lowering both daggers a little, she nodded. “You do realize everyone believes you’re a traitor who sold secrets to the Russians.”

“Yes. I know.” He smiled, though it was in self-deprecation rather than happiness. “But I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore. I stopped caring after Paris. I probably never would have returned to England except for you.”

“Me?”

“Yes.” Nathaniel went to say something but stopped for a moment. “You’re in danger, Kat.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “That’s not particularly news. I’m regularly in danger.”

“You don’t understand.” There was an urgency in his voice. “The Chameleon has taken an interest in you. Perhaps even become obsessed with you… And when the Chameleon is obsessed by something or someone, it never ends well.”

In an instant, she flicked her knife back up against his throat and glared at him. “How would you know that about the Chameleon, unless you know who he is. Or you are the Chameleon?”

“Do you really think I’m Europe’s deadliest assassin? Me?”

“Are you?”

“No.”

Kat didn’t know why, but she believed him. “Then do you know who he is?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Actually, it does.” She pressed her dagger closer against his neck, until a thin line of blood appeared just on the skin’s surface. “The Chameleon killed Victor, and if you’re in league with the assassin that makes you my enemy.”

“I’m not your enemy, Kat, nor am I in league with anyone,” he snarled. “Especially not the Chameleon, who helped to set me up as a traitor. The Chameleon was partly responsible for the death of the woman I loved.”

There was truth radiating from his eyes and words. But could she really trust him? Once, she would have done so blindly and with her life. But now? Now she didn’t know. “I’ve been hunting the assassin since Victor’s death, so if you know anything about him, you will tell me.”

“Or what? You’re going to slit my throat if I don’t?”

Kat took in a harsh breath and lowered her knife, slipping both daggers back into their sheaths and stepping away from him. “No. But you know what Victor meant to me, what I thought he meant to you, too. If you know anything about the assassin who took his life, you must tell me.”

Nathaniel took a deep breath in. “I can’t.”

A sinking sensation pooled in her stomach with his words. He did know something. “Can’t or won’t?”

“I made a promise a long time ago that I’d neither hunt the Chameleon nor assist anyone else to.”

“Victor meant so little to you?” Her heart dropped but then anger replaced the sadness.

“He was like a second father to me.”

“What nonsense!” Kat exclaimed. “You’d be out for vengeance if that was the case, just like I am.”

“Things are not so black and white, Kaitlyn!”

He dragged a hand through his dark hair, in much the same manner as Marcus did when he was frustrated, and Kat was struck by the similarities between the brothers, much more pronounced now that Nathaniel was older. Though Marcus was an inch or two taller, and his chest was broader than his younger brother’s.

“You can’t assume anything about the Chameleon,” Nathaniel continued, “nor underestimate the assassin’s abilities.”

“You better start explaining yourself.” Kat’s voice was raspy with emotion. “Why have you stayed hidden and pretended to be dead for the last three years? Why did you not send word you were alive?” The question was suddenly eating at her, demanding to be answered. “I could have helped you.”

“Initially, I couldn’t. I was literally in a hospital bed for four months recovering from my injuries after the bomb. The bomb that killed the love of my life.” He laughed without humor. “Everyone thought I’d died along with Irena, and that’s how it had to stay.”

“Four months…” Kat felt sick with the thought of him all alone in a foreign hospital, knowing his love was dead and that if anyone knew he was alive, he could be killed, too. “If you had sent word, I would’ve helped you.”

“I know.” He took in a deep breath and exhaled. “You’ve always been a rescuer. But it was safer for all of you if you thought I was dead. Besides, after that I was busy in Russia for a period.”

“Russia?” Were the rumors he was a traitor true?

Nathaniel was perfectly still for a moment as he peered off into the distance. “Yes. Some Russian operatives did not take well to discovering me in the Kremlin trying to discover who the English traitor was. They were hospitable and allowed me to spend the better part of the last two years in their dungeons. So, you see, I was rather tied up. Quite literally, too.” He laughed for a second, but Kat could see the pain in his eyes as his fists clenched by his sides.

“They beat you.” It wasn’t a question. The stories she’d heard of the conditions the Kremlin kept their prisoners in were almost unimaginable.

“Every day.” A wry grin split across his face. “They also had rather dismal accommodation, food and activities, actually. I don’t think I’ll choose to stay there again. Very poor service, indeed.”

Her throat clenched at how casual he sounded, when in fact he’d been in hell. “Did they torture you greatly?”

His smile grew fierce. “Clearly not enough, as I eventually escaped in one piece.” The smile vanished. “I found sanctuary with Irena’s family on their farm in Russia for a bit, at least until I received word about what was taking place back here. I knew then I needed to come back to warn you and uncover the true traitor before all the witnesses had been killed. And until I discover who that is, I need you to keep my secret. You can’t tell anyone I’m alive, especially Marcus.” Nathaniel sighed heavily. “His life depends on it. My mother and sister, too. Please, Kat, you must promise me.” There was a rigidity to his posture as he awaited her answer.

Was the man serious? “You can’t turn up back from dead and ask me to promise not to tell anyone else you’re alive. Marcus needs to know. In fact, he has a right to know. He’s trying to exonerate you and is putting himself in harm’s way doing so.”

Nathaniel crossed his arms over his chest. “Like I said, his life would be at risk if he knew. Great risk.”

“At risk from whom?”

“Whoever it is that’s getting rid of everyone involved in setting me up in the first place. It’s someone close to him, I feel it. And whoever it is has already gone to great lengths to hide their involvement, and has the money and resources to get rid of anything or anyone who gets in their way. The money to hire the Chameleon.”

“Why is it you revealed yourself to me, then?” Kat narrowed her eyes upon him. “Why have you suddenly reappeared, and don’t tell me it’s because I’m in danger, because you know I can protect myself.”

“You can only protect yourself if you know there’s a threat. And if the Chameleon has taken an interest in you like my sources tell me, then you’re in danger, and not just from the Chameleon.”

“Who am I in danger from then?”

“I don’t know, not exactly, though I have my suspicions. As soon as I can confirm them, I’ll let you know, but I had to warn you nevertheless.”

“That’s not good enough, Nathaniel. You can’t expect me to keep such news from Marcus without anything more substantial than ‘I have my suspicions.’ Losing you eats away at him constantly. He blames himself for your death.”

“You seem to know my brother a great deal.”

An odd sense of discomfort ran through her at the look of speculation in his gaze. “Marcus and I are working together to find the Chameleon. We’re partners of sorts.” She couldn’t very well say she was his lover.

“You’ve teamed up with my brother?” For a moment he seemed shocked, but then he started laughing. “Oh, that’s grand. My staid and predictable brother dealing with whirlwind Kaitlyn. How is he coping with that? Not very well, I’d say.”

She’d forgotten the nickname he used to give her. “He’s coming around.”

“Of course he is. When you put your mind to it, you can convince anyone to do anything. You’re an extraordinary woman. Do you want to hear something funny? I once thought myself a bit in love with you.”

The news was like a cannonball exploding. “What?” They’d shared a kiss when she was eighteen, but only because she’d been annoyed to hear Marcus was getting married. She hadn’t ever really had any feelings for Nathaniel, apart from that of a very close friend, almost like a brother. Mostly because he’d never been able to take anything too seriously, but that was not the case now. The man standing before her was changed to the point she didn’t really know him anymore.

“I did,” he confirmed with a wry smile. “But don’t worry, my heart was broken with Irena’s death, and I know I’ll never love again. Now, I’ve already been here too long, but before I go, you must promise not to tell Marcus I’m alive.” Nathaniel stepped closer to her. “If he finds out, it will place him in danger, especially as he’d try and find me. You know he would.”

What Nathaniel said was true. If Marcus knew, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to find his brother.

“And besides,” he continued, “this is my mess to fix. I don’t need my big brother charging in and saving the day like he always used to. Promise me you won’t tell him. Let me redeem my honor for myself.”

As much as a little voice inside her was telling her not to, she slowly nodded. “I won’t tell him. At least not yet. You have a fortnight, Nathaniel, to tell him yourself or I will.” It felt so wrong to promise not to tell Marcus something, but the memories between her and Nathaniel deserved one promise.

“Very well. Oh, and one thing, Kat. In this quest for vengeance of yours, be careful not to let it consume you as it’s done me. You can never fully return to the living if you constantly surround yourself with memories of the dead.”

She saw the darkness close over his eyes, and a deep foreboding came over her as she saw the truth of his statement mirrored in his expression. The man had seen and done things that clearly tormented his soul.

Standing there, out in the dark with him, she realized Nathaniel’s scars ran a great deal deeper than his skin. The Nathaniel she used to tease and torment was long gone. In his place was a man she didn’t truly know or recognize.

He took a step in front of her and gently placed his hand under her chin, tilting up her face to his. And she let him. Nostalgia for their shared past was almost palpable in the air around them.

“Stay safe, Kat.” He pressed a brief kiss on her cheek, then released her, before he turned and fled through the garden.

As she stood watching where his shadow had disappeared, guilt clawed at her over the fact that she’d given him her word not to tell Marcus he was alive. What had she just agreed to? And how was she going to keep such a secret from a man she was growing to care for a great deal? A man who did not countenance lies and had extracted a promise from her to always tell him the truth.

A sinking feeling pitted in her stomach, because she knew if he ever found out she was keeping such a thing from him, he’d never trust her again.