Valek strode right up to her. “The Commander didn’t give you that arrow, did he?”
Dropping the comb, she reached for her knives, but Valek already had his pressed to her throat. She froze. Smart girl.
“You filled the arrow with starlight, hoping Yelena would become pregnant, hoping I’d be happy to retire from my position to raise a family.”
Onora didn’t deny it.
“Are you that hungry for my job?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
She hesitated.
“Show me or I’ll slice your tunic open.”
Giving him a nasty glare, she yanked down the collar of her shirt. A purple C-shaped scar marked her chest. From his own experience with scars, he calculated that it’d been done approximately six months ago. Probably when she first started working for the Commander. Emotions boiled in his stomach. Betrayal and relief dominated. Betrayal over the Commander marking another without discussing it with Valek or even informing him. Relief that he no longer needed to fear for the Commander’s safety whenever Onora was near him, because she had given her life and loyalty to the Commander.
Onora braced for his reaction.
“That scar won’t protect you from me. Don’t lie to me again. Understand?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He pressed harder. Blood welled under the sharp blade.
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“Hey! What’s going on?” Leif asked.
In one quick motion, Valek sheathed his knife and stepped away from Onora. Leif, Devlen and Yelena hurried to join them. Color had returned to Yelena’s cheeks. It was much better than the deathly paleness that had clung to her skin over the past few days. Of course, it would be even better if she wasn’t staring daggers at him. Probably not a good time to inform her that the Commander and Onora had plotted against her.
“Haven’t you assassinated enough people today?” Leif glared at him, then yanked out a handkerchief to dab at the blood on Onora’s throat. “It looks shallow, but I should put a poultice on it just in case.”
Onora shooed him off. “I’m fine.”
Uncertain about what had caused all this hostility, Valek mulled over Leif’s question. “Who died?”
“Oh, come on. Don’t play the innocent, Mr. Assassin,” Leif said. “I get that you’re all protective of my sister and think anyone who hurts her should die. But they had vital information that could have led us to Owen, you idiot!”
Ah. “All three?”
Leif opened his mouth, but Yelena stopped him. “Yes, Ben, Loris and Cilly.”
While not in the least bit upset over their deaths, Valek did regret not having more time to “talk” with them. He’d used goo-goo juice on Ben to learn the location of the escape tunnel’s exit point, but by the time he’d returned from his failed attempt to track Owen, the Sitian authorities had arrived.
Valek suppressed the urge to glance at Onora. Was she responsible? And, if so, was she acting on her own or following the Commander’s orders? Now was not the time to ask. “How were they killed?” he asked Leif instead.
Leif huffed in annoyance, but Devlen said, “Puncture wound to the jugular. They died of rapid blood loss.”
Yelena touched her neck—a gesture her mother often used when feeling anxious or vulnerable.
None of the assassins he knew killed that way. “Sound familiar?” he asked Yelena.
“When The Mosquito attacked me, he aimed an ice pick at my neck. If he’d succeeded, I probably would have died the same way,” she said.
Valek vowed to find the assassin and squash him. But first... “Didn’t Bruns Jewelrose hire him to target you?” Another whom Valek needed to have a little chat with—he planned to let the sharp point of his knife do all the talking in that conversation.
Her hand remained around her throat. “Yes. Do you think Bruns sent him after the magicians? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t. And an assassin rarely works for one client. Owen has the most to lose if they talked to the Council. Plus, he has the money to hire The Mosquito,” Valek speculated.
“He wouldn’t kill his own brother,” Leif said. “He rescued Ben from Wirral Prison.”
“Which alerted the authorities,” Valek said.
“Who would have lost him if Ben had not gone after Yelena,” Devlen added.
“Brothers,” Yelena said, gazing at Leif pointedly, “can be troublesome and have the tendency to jump to conclusions. You need to apologize to Valek.”
Leif crossed his arms as two red splotches spread on his cheeks. “It wasn’t a jump. It was a perfectly reasonable assumption. One you made, too.”
“I suspected Valek, as well,” Devlen said. He towered about six inches over Leif, and his blue-eyed gaze held contrition.
“No need for apologies.” Valek considered. “I don’t suppose they would let me examine the crime scene?”
“That would be...unwise at this time,” Devlen said. “They would not even let me near it or the bodies.”
Which meant Captain Fleming suspected Valek and would probably report his suspicions to the Council. “Should we leave tonight?”
“No,” Yelena said. “By the time they make a decision, we’ll be in Ixia.” Her matter-of-fact tone belied her heated gaze. She hadn’t forgotten his promise.
Warmth spread throughout his chest. He’d risk being arrested for a night alone with Yelena. Hell, he’d risk his life. Once they left in the morning, there would be no privacy on the road.
Yet there was no sense in taking an unnecessary risk. Setting a watch tonight would provide Valek with ample time to escape should the captain decide to arrest him. “All right, we’ll proceed as planned. Onora, where’s Janco? I thought he was helping you with the horses.”
She gestured to a two-story barn to the left. “He’s pouting.”
Should he even bother to ask?
Yelena did. “About what?” She fed an apple to Kiki, who cleaved the fruit in half with one bite.
Onora rubbed her right arm as she watched Kiki chew. “He wanted to name the horse we’re taking with us ‘Beach Bunny,’ after some stuffed rabbit he had growing up, and I said it was a stupid name for a horse. Then he claimed, if it was his horse, he could name it anything he wanted, and I said he should ride The Madam because she’s the easiest to handle, and—”
“You offended his pride and he stalked away in a huff,” Yelena finished.
“Yup.”
As Yelena scratched Kiki in all her favorite spots, Valek gestured for Onora to follow him to the barn. He stopped outside the oversize doors that had been painted green with white trim.
“Tell Janco to set up a watch schedule for tonight. I’ll take the last shift,” he said.
“Should he include Yelena?”
“No. She needs her rest.”
Onora bit her lip, clamping down on the question dancing behind her eyes—was Yelena with child? Valek walked away without answering. It was too soon to tell, and, as far as