| |
––––––––
SORCHA’S HACKLES ROSE when she felt eyes watching her. She was wearing another illusion, yet she’d caught someone’s attention. Sneaking a look over her shoulder, she almost stumbled when she saw the handsome courier striding towards her. He wore another dark red cloak with the hood pulled up. Most magic users favored one color over others, so it wasn’t unusual. She’d heard Gild Master Onvier tended to wear a different cloak every night. He apparently had a collection of them.
Refusing to give in to the panic that he’d seen through her illusion again, Sorcha melded with a group of witches as they headed for a carriage. She changed her face and broke off to follow a pair of fairies back towards the Magic Guildhall. The courier had come to a halt and was looking around in confusion. She hurried away from the City Square and leaped into the first carriage that stopped for her.
Her relief was mixed with curiosity about the courier. Why was he following her? Did he suspect that she’d killed the fairy? She’d overheard the witches she’d followed talking about the murder. Rumor had it that the assassin had used the rooftop of the building across the street to murder his victim from. She let out a derisive snort that everyone assumed the killer was male. The angle of the wound was completely wrong, too. If she’d attacked the fairy from up high, the wound would have been angled downwards, not upwards. “Amateurs,” she muttered as the carriage rumbled over the cobbled streets towards the Shifter District.
Her latest mission was to assassinate a werelion. He worked in one of the factories that had sprung up in the industrial area. If she’d still been alive, Eden would probably have been sent to eliminate the rebel. He wasn’t an alpha, or whatever the feline equivalent was, yet he’d earned himself a death sentence just the same.
Sorcha changed her appearance yet again as the vehicle crossed the bridge to the Shifter District. She chose the amber eyes of a werewolf. She made her figure look curvier and her hair became dark brown. It would be difficult to change her scent, but it wasn’t necessary. The sorceress had created a new spell after her one and only foray to the Demon District. It was a shield that muffled her scent completely. She cast the spell and the faint traces of shampoo that wafted from her hair disappeared. Her enchantment was so strong that not even she could smell herself now.
The carriage came to a stop a block away from the factory and the sorceress climbed out. Whistles of appreciation came from a couple of werewolves who were taking a break. She flashed them a fake grin and hoped they wouldn’t approach her and hit on her. Turning away from the pair, she circled around the block and approached the factory from the rear.
The spell that linked her to the werelion became stronger as she closed in on her target. The poking and prodding became increasingly insistent and annoying. She could feel her mark was somewhere on the factory floor and knew this job was going to be a challenge. Sorcha didn’t have the ability to draw her prey to her like Eden could, so she was going to have to get creative.
A fire escape clung to the side of the building and she crossed to it. Her cream-colored coat and boots were already smudged with coaldust that hung in the air. This factory was powered by wood rather than coal. Ash was mixed in with the other pollutants that marred the District. She was glad the magic of Nox would clean her clothes. It was no wonder everyone wore dark colors in this area.
Sorcha used magic to noiselessly draw the ladder down. She climbed up to the second floor and quietly drew the ladder back up. Her boots crunched on the ice that coated the landing of the fire escape, but the noise from inside should drown out her movements.
A spell unlocked the window and she pushed it up, then climbed into a storeroom. Piles of boxes were stacked haphazardly around the room. She wasn’t curious enough to investigate their contents. Her boots stirred up dust that hung in the air as she headed for the door. It opened to a balcony that overlooked the factory floor. Her target stood out like a beacon in her mind once she spotted him. The spell hammered at her to kill him, but she wasn’t about to rush through her mission. She camouflaged herself against the wall next to the door to look down at the floor below.
Molten metal glowed with bright red light from several large vats. Her target wore a thick leather apron and sturdy gloves as he poured the liquid metal into a mold. The werelion looked stronger than the rest of his colleagues. His physique was impressive and he wasn’t quite as malnourished as the others. Sorcha observed him for a while, trying to figure out how she could assassinate him without letting anyone see her.
Metal rails that ferried equipment and materials from one end of the factory to the other hung from the ceiling above. An idea came to her as she studied the gigantic wooden pallets that were loaded up with gear. She waited until one of the pallets was directly above her mark, then used a blade made from air to sever the heavy metal cables that were holding it up. The werelion looked up when he heard the cables snap. He barely had time to scream before he was crushed to death.
The sorceress teleported to an abandoned building a few blocks away. She was satisfied that she’d made the assassination look like a workplace accident. It was doubtful anyone would investigate the event even if someone figured out that deliberate sabotage was to blame. After all, the Immortal Triumvirate were the ones who had ordered the shifter’s death.
A flicker of movement through a boarded-up window caught her eye. She moved closer to peer through the boards. Sorcha sucked in a silent breath when she saw the Demon Guild Master walking past the building. Raum was wearing one of his usual dark, snazzy suits. He looked as elegant and handsome as ever. Her first instinct was to flee before he could discover her, but she wondered what he was doing in the Shifter District. Her curiosity was too strong to ignore, so she decided to follow him.
The sorceress made sure Raum didn’t have an entourage before she hurried in his wake. She cloaked herself in the camouflage spell, so she blended in with the walls she passed. Her shield that muffled her scent was still in place.
After leaving the alley, he headed for a nearby block of apartments. He entered a building and Sorcha waited in the shadows for him to emerge. The demon was only inside for maybe ten minutes before he left. His expression was decidedly smug and he was smiling widely. He headed back to the alley without noticing her.
Sorcha was about to teleport away when a flash of glowing gold eyes caught her attention. She looked up to see a demon landing on the roof of the apartment building. Her eyesight was sharp enough to make out its misshapen, charcoal gray body and tattered black wings. The sorceress followed another hunch and remained where she was.
A couple of minutes later, a bloodcurdling scream rang out from one of the apartments. Sorcha poised herself to flee, but waited long enough to see the black and gray demon appear on the roof. The hell spawn appeared to be laughing as it flew away without a backward glance.
A crow circled overhead, but Sorcha didn’t pay it any attention. She teleported away as shifters came running to search for the person who had screamed. The sorceress was pretty sure the demon’s victim was beyond saving.
