Gaston smirked. “I never knew you were all about noble purpose and grandeur.”
“I’m not. Tell me, what do you want out of this life?”
“Vengeance for our family.”
“And then?”
The boy shrugged again. “I don’t know.”
“You think, eventually you might want to be like those people we’re protecting and start a family?”
“Sure.”
“You might find some funny girl to be your wife, have some kids, someone to come home to?”
“Yeah, I guess it would be nice.”
“This job, if you let it, will burn every shred of humanity out of your soul. It will chew you up and spit out an empty husk. If you don’t take care, you’ll be hollow like an empty casket. No pretty, funny girl for your wife, no home, no love, no laughter, nothing.” Kaldar paused to make sure it sank in. “You’ve seen the old Mirror agents. They walk jingling enough medals on their chests to be their own marching bands, but their eyes are dead. That isn’t what you want.”
“At the end of the day, they know they’ve done their job.”
“That satisfaction doesn’t keep them warm at night. It’s no substitute for a life or a clear conscience.” Kaldar pointed at the house. “Every time you get into a situation like this, I want you to think of our family. If one of us asks you why you killed or maimed or tortured, you need to be able with a clear conscience to say, ‘There was no other way.’”
“William . . .”
“William has Cerise,” Kaldar said. “And she has a temper, and she kills, but she is also kind and compassionate. Cerise seeks balance in all things. William listens to her because he knows she has something he lacks. It’s not his fault; the Adrianglians did their best to murder any humanity he had in him when he was a child. And even he has some lines he won’t cross. I once saw him run into an open field, in plain view of the enemy’s guns and bows, to save Lark, with no regard for his own life.”
“That was different! Lark is a kid.”
“Can you tell me for sure that there are no children in that house? Can you tell me that one won’t run out and be caught in the cross fire? Are you prepared to murder Pena while his family watches?”
Gaston opened his mouth and closed it.
“You must hold on to your humanity, nephew, so when it’s time to return to your house for a family dinner, you can do so as a happy man. At some point, you will have a son or a daughter. When you come home, you need to be able to look your wife and children in the eye.”
Gaston looked at the house.
“We kill only when we have no other choice. Is Pena a scumbag? Sure he is. But he’s outside of the scope of our job. We are not judges. Remember, we do only what is necessary. We need his money, and we’ll take it—because it’s dirty and we can. But until he levels a gun on another human being, we will not take his life. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“Good.”
They fell silent.
Gaston stirred. “If it helps, Audrey checked your ass out before she took off.”
“She did?”
Audrey slipped next to Gaston. “I did what?”
“Nothing!” Kaldar and Gaston chorused.
“Shh.” Audrey glared at them. “Will you two nincompoops stop screwing around?”
“Yes, m’lady.” Kaldar ducked his head in a half bow.
Audrey tapped Gaston’s shoulder with her finger. “Think you can get into that barn?”
Gaston shrugged his muscular shoulders. “Sure.”
“I need you to get down there, open the stalls inside, and panic the horses.”
“ ‘Panic’?” Gaston asked.
“Smile at them or something.”
He gave her an insane grin. “I can do that.”
“What about me?” Kaldar whispered.
“You lie here and look pretty. I’ll be back.”
Look pretty, huh. She’ll pay for that.
Gaston and Audrey melted into the darkness. Audrey and his nephew seemed to be made of the same stuff: she flit-tered over the ground, completely silent, almost weightless, and Gaston snuck around like a big cat, noiseless despite his bulk. Kaldar turned to the house. Well, he did want to see her work. All he could do was hope that she didn’t get the lot of them murdered.
Breaking into the house in the middle of the night just wasn’t his style. He did his best work in plain view, and, usually, his tongue was doing most of it.
Now that was an interesting thought. Heh.
He made a mental note to drop that one on Audrey. Maybe he’d get another “Oh, my God!” out of her.
She hugged the ground next to him.
“Where is my nephew?”
“Watch,” she told him, and pulled her mask on.
A long minute passed, then another. They lay in silence atop the hill. Kaldar leaned closer to her until their faces almost touched. “Take your mask off.”
“Why?” she whispered.
“I miss your face.”
Her eyes widened. Aha! He had finally scored one.
“We’ve got a few minutes,” she whispered. “Do you want to make out?”
It was a trap. A one hundred percent, genuine Audrey trap. If he fell for it, he’d be sorry. But then there was that slight, one in a thousand chance that she was serious. He’d be an idiot not to take it.
Kaldar reached over and gently tugged her mask from the lower half of her face.
She flicked her fingers, hitting him lightly on the nose. “You’re so easy.”
“No, just smitten.” He leaned closer. His lips almost brushed hers.
Audrey didn’t pull away. “Now, remember what happened the last time you tried that?”
“Worth it,” he whispered.
The door of the barn below flew open with a thud. Horses burst into the night. Audrey turned toward the herd, and he grabbed her and kissed her. She tasted just like Kaldar remembered, like a sunny day in the middle of a dark night. For a moment, Audrey didn’t respond, as if they had both paused on the edge of a skyscraper with the ground far below, and she was too scared to move. He pulled her closer, kissing her, reassuring, loving. Suddenly, Audrey melted into his kiss, so hot, so welcoming, and they fell off the edge into the empty air; but instead of plummeting down, they floated, wrapped up in each other. Kaldar lost all sense of time and place. He just wanted more of her.
She hit his shoulder with a closed fist. Pain shot through his biceps. Kaldar let go. “Ow.”
Audrey glared at him with sincere outrage. He might have overstepped just a smidgen.
“What the hell? We’re working!”
She took everything so seriously. “For luck,” he told her.
Audrey yanked her mask over her face. “Follow me and try to be quiet.”
They descended the slope, the raccoon sneaking through the night a few steps ahead of them. At the house, horses dashed to and fro, galloping along the driveway and jumping fences. The ward meant nothing to them, and they dashed back and forth, trampling the flower beds in their frenzy.
A long, ululating call of a pissed coyote rolled through the night. Gaston was always good at imitating animal calls.
Floodlights snapped on, bathing the scene in harsh white light. Men spilled from the caretaker’s house, yelling. At the guard tower, a sentry dressed in black yanked a rope. A siren wailed. The horses lost what little calm they had left. The scene turned into complete pandemonium. It was glorious.
Kaldar laughed soundlessly and padded through the brush, making less noise than a fox. The Mire didn’t suffer loud guests.
Audrey dropped behind a dense clump of brush. He landed next to her.
“Can you strut louder?” she whispered. “I think there might be one or two guards who haven’t heard you yet.”
“Lies,” he told her. “Nobody heard me. Not even you.”
A huge, pale horse charged out of the barn, scattering the guards like a pike scattered a school of fish. The horse veered left, galloping toward them, its mane like white silk. A stallion. Kaldar wasn’t a horseman, but even he had to admit: the stallion was one hell of an animal.