“Perhaps. But next time I will be ready for him. And I will not allow you to stop me.” Even to myself I sounded like a defiant child, determined but ultimately delusional.
To my surprise, Asher did not name my foolishness. He simply asked the only question that really mattered. “I assume you have a Blade?”
My hand dropped automatically to the sheath at my waist. I nodded.
He held out a hand. “May I?”
It was a bold request. Each family of Descendants was given only one Avenging Blade. My father had entrusted ours to me just before Bael’s entry into our home, and I was loathe to let it leave my hands.
Asher’s expression softened. “It’s all right. I have one of my own. See?” He reached for a belt around his waist, pulling something from its scabbard.
I knew what it was even from across the room. It did not shine in the minimal light of the fire, but I felt its power, a companion to the weapon still around my waist. I moved toward him without thinking, my eyes on the Blade in his hands.
“Do they give you one when you become an Apprentice?” I asked.
Asher nodded, holding the Blade in the flat of his palm.
I could not deny my curiosity. I knew Apprentices had to prove themselves before being elevated to full-fledged Assassins, but Father had never explained exactly how they went about it. I had never expected to meet one face-to-face, and though we trained and prepared for the possibility that the remaining demons would find us, deep down Father always believed the Assassins would eliminate the danger before we were forced to defend ourselves.
I continued to cross the room, coming to a stop in front of him. I looked down at the indecipherable symbols and words etched into the solid silver hilt and blade, surprised to see that they were slightly different from those on my family Blade.
“It’s beautiful.” The words came out in a breathy whisper. Without thinking, I reached out, running a finger along the engravings crisscrossing the weapon, feeling the dips and whorls of the ancient script.
Before I knew what had happened, my hand was encased in the iron grip of his fingers, the Blade back in its sheath. “You don’t touch an Assassin’s weapon without permission. Even you must know this.”
His face was mere inches from mine, the strange electric current pulsing between us as it had in the alley.
I straightened my back. “You are not an Assassin. Not yet.”
I saw a flash of fury in his eyes in the moment before he spoke. “Perhaps not. But I am closer than you. Killing Bael is not a task for a pampered Descendant, however much you might think you have prepared.”
It took effort to pull my arm from his grip. He seemed surprised by my strength.
I glared up at him. “We will see about that.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” I said, “that this is all talk until one of us kills Bael.”
He shook his head. “You are being utterly foolish, Rose. You’ll be killed.”
His lack of confidence in my ability and my need to avenge the death of my family only increased my determination. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. But either way, you cannot stop me.”
I spun around, stalking away from him. I didn’t know where I was going. The truth is, I had no place to go. I only knew that I needed to escape him. To escape his words and his gaze and the truth I did not want to hear.
But I did not get far.
A moment later, he was spinning me to face him. I expected him to shout. To tell me again all the reasons why I could not kill Bael.
Instead, his mouth was on mine before I could register what was happening.
I did not even consider resisting. His mouth, soft and firm, moved against mine, and then I was falling into light—spinning faster and faster toward the heat of a sun I could only feel, blazing at the center of my body. His hands found their way to the back of my neck, sliding into the hair cascading down my back. My mouth opened under his without a thought, a rosebud tightly bound and waiting only for this particular ray of light.
“Why weren’t you killed?”
Asher’s voice was so soft, I could hardly hear it over the faint crackling of the fire. We were lying amid an assortment of cushions and blankets that Asher had found. I felt returned to myself, brought back from the dead by Asher’s tender but passionate kisses, his hands learning the curve of my neck, my jaw, my shoulders.
Now, with my head against his chest, I contemplated his question, thinking back to the night of my family’s death. The screams tearing through the night. The moment’s hesitation before I fulfilled my promise, climbing out of the window and making my way along the roofline until I could drop to the dewy grass and run.
Run without looking back, as Father had instructed should such a thing come to pass.
“Bael came for my parents first.” I was glad he could not see my face, though I refused the tears that fought their way to my eyes. “I heard them screaming.”
“How did you know to run?” His voice was sincere and filled with a sadness that took me by surprise.
“I’ve always known what I was. What we were. My parents didn’t keep it a secret.” I hesitated, wondering if my parents had disobeyed an unknown code of the Descendants. “Does that shock you?”
“Well, it is not forbidden to illuminate the next generation of Descendants...” His voice trailed off, and I knew he had left something unsaid.
“But?” I asked.
“But,” he continued, his chest rising under my ear. “It is difficult to predict how the mortals would behave if they knew the offspring of angels walked among them. Most of the Descendants wait until their children are of age to tell them. You cannot be more than—”
I lifted myself up on my arms, looking into his eyes. “I am eighteen, thank you very much! Besides, you are hardly ‘seasoned.’ How old are you?”
His eyes shone with something like amusement. “My age is not measured in mortal years.”
“Well, then,” I tipped my head, not even trying to hide the sarcasm in my voice. “Why don’t you tell me how old you would be if it were.”
“Nearly twenty.”
“Twenty?” I laughed aloud. “Well, I suppose I should feel safe in the hands of one so experienced!”
He sighed. “Yes, well, I’m in the final phase of my Apprenticeship. Bael is my last individual kill. I need only destroy him, and I’ll be a full-fledged Assassin. The Council would not have sent me if they didn’t have faith in my abilities. It is an important task.”
“Yes, it is. One that is rightfully mine.” I heard the steel in my voice and felt the warmth of the past hours slipping away.
“If you wanted to destroy him so badly, why have you been following him for nearly a week without moving in to kill him? You have had more than one opportunity.” The earlier affection in his voice was replaced with frustration.
I tried to hide my surprise. Obviously, Asher had been observing me longer than simply one night. And there was something else. Something I was afraid to voice, though I knew I must if I was to honor whatever strange and beautiful thing had happened between us.
I nodded, looking into Asher’s eyes. “I have had chances to take Bael.”
Asher shrugged. “What stopped you then? Fear?”
His question did not surprise me. I had wondered on more than one occasion if it was fear that held me in check. Fear that, despite all the training my parents had bestowed upon me before their death, I would be no match for Bael.
But in the end I had been forced to admit that fear wasn’t the problem.
I shook my head. “No. Not fear, though I know it would be justified when faced with a demon like Bael.”
“Then what?” Asher’s voice was soft but firm. I knew he would not let it go until he had an answer.