The Assassin’s Apprentice

I made my way through the crowd, trying not to be jostled by the men around me. It was always difficult to get my thick, blond hair under a hat, and I was never quite certain it would stay there. If it came loose, I would be a beacon not only for the rough men in the room, but for the demon lurking among them.

And be revealed as both a female and a Descendant, either of which could get me killed—or worse—in company such as this.

The men were filthy, wound tight with an energy that rippled through the crowd. I could feel their agitation. Their rising excitement. Their despair. They would work their whole lives through and find little more than a meager wage, an occasional night at the street fights, and an early death. I felt a moment’s pity for them as I made my way along the outskirts of the crowd, but my sympathy quickly dissipated.

Perhaps these people would never rise above their station. Perhaps they would die young from breathing coal dust or in an accident at one of the factories in our New York town.

But they would never see their families executed by a demon like Bael.

And that, in my opinion, made them far better off than I.

The closer I came to the front of the crowd, the more the men pushed and shoved. Their shirts hung limply against their skin, sticking to their sweaty bodies as they angled for a better look at the makeshift ring in the middle of the derelict building. The first two contestants had not yet entered the patch of ground reserved for the fighters, making this the best chance I would have of spotting Bael. Once the fight began, the men would surge forward and pack even more tightly together.

I made my way to the front, looking for a place to hide and finding it in the shadows that lurked near the wall. It was too far back to see the fight properly, but perfect for surveying the room in its entirety. Stepping into the darkness, I leaned back against the crumbling wall.

I scanned the crowd, my eyes skipping over the bearded, dirty men until I spotted Bael, standing against the wall opposite mine. He stood in the shadows, much as I did, his face only half-visible through the broad shoulders and bearded faces of the mortal men. Even so, it was easy to be certain of his identity, for his skin was as smooth as a child’s, his clothes crisp and unsoiled.

I knew it for the lie it was. There was no doubt in my mind that the demon who had murdered my family lay under the guise of the handsome blond gentleman leaning against the wall. Fury rose in me like a tide, beginning at my feet and continuing until my face was hot with it.

The time for waiting was passed. Now it was time to be done with it. With him.

Now it was time for him to pay.

My fingers found the hilt of my Blade without looking, and I had a flash of Father, standing near me as I assumed the ready position. I could still feel his hand on my shoulder, steadying my arm as I focused on the targets across the field in the distance.

Hit your mark, Rose. Hit your mark.

I stepped forward, itching to drive the Blade through Bael’s black, black heart.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” It was not the murmured voice in my ear that gave me pause, but the hand, tightly clenched around my upper arm, that made me stop in my tracks.

I knew better than to expose my back to Bael. Instead, I tipped my head so that my body was still facing forward, glaring from under the brim of my hat at the young man who had spoken.

“And I wouldn’t do that.” I let my eyes skip to his hand, still encircling my arm. “If I were you, I mean.”

In the noise and activity of the room, the young man’s face was a series of quick impressions. Angular cheekbones, dark hair curling at his ears, deep blue eyes flashing even in the dim light of the room.

“I understand,” he said, loosening his grip on my arm. “But he’ll kill you, too, if he sees you.”

For a moment, everything seemed to still, and all I heard were his words.

He’ll kill you, too, if he sees you.

As if he knew about the murder of my family.

I removed my hand from the hilt of the Blade, looking at him in surprise. “First of all, you don’t understand. Couldn’t possibly understand. And second of all,” I pulled my arm violently from his grasp, “who are you?”

“Let’s go.” The young man still had a hold of my arm, despite my best efforts at freeing myself.

I should have been frightened, for even now we were making our way to the entrance of the building. But he was moving me away from Bael, and this made me believe that we were somehow on the same side.

The crowd seemed to part as we moved through it, the young man commanding a strange, unspoken respect as everyone stepped aside.

“I can walk on my own, you know.” I tried one last time to wrench free of his grasp, but his fingers were like a vice on my arm.

“I have no doubt,” he said. “But I think you should stay close. It seems we may have company.”

It took me a minute to understand what he meant, but as we reached the door, I looked back to where Bael had been standing. Then I understood.

He was no longer there.

I felt a rush of utter fear followed quickly by shame. Fear could not co-exist with vengeance.

“Can you at least tell me your name?” I asked as the young man pulled me out the door and into the cold night.

He sighed, and I marveled that he could sound so bored when it seemed we were both on the run. “It’s Asher. Now will you be quiet until I think of a way to get us out of Bael’s sight?”

His words silenced me as nothing else could. They were confirmation that he did, indeed, know Bael by name. I had never heard the demon’s name spoken aloud except by my Mother and Father.

That meant the young man holding my arm could only be one thing.

I knew there were other Descendants, though they were scattered far and wide. Underground for their own protection against filth like Bael. And though we knew the Assassins were among us, attempting to quell the execution of the Descendants, we did not speak of them. They moved silently among the shadows of our world, doing their duty without worldly aplomb or association.

I was pulled from my thoughts when the young man named Asher hurried me down the crumbling stone steps and onto the darkened streets, smoke rising from the streetlamps that flickered every few feet. He looked back only once, cursing softly under his breath.

“We have to hurry. I think he might have spotted you. We have to find a place to take cover until we lose him.”

I stopped suddenly, forcing Asher to a stop as well. “I don’t want to lose him. I want to kill him.” I silently cursed the quaver in my voice.

“Yes, well, I’d say he’d probably like to kill you too.” He leaned in, his face mere inches from mine. I felt a blush heat my face, though I could not have said why. “And he’ll get the chance if you do not come with me right now.” He pulled me forward, grumbling. “We can debate your chances of killing him before he kills you once we’ve found a safe place to hide.”

His unwavering determination gave me pause. I wasn’t used to being strong-armed. Mother had once told Father that he was the only one who held sway over me, and I had been forced to admit on more than one occasion, if only in the privacy of my own thoughts, that I was not always agreeable.

But Asher did not seem intimidated by my stubbornness. His arm was strong on mine, and I had the sense that I could not escape him if I tried. It might have been frightening if not for the fact that he was so clearly trying to save my life.

Now, the knowledge of his strength held a secret thrill.

We passed two drunkards, singing loudly and off-key, and Asher pulled me into a dark alley, glancing around until his eyes settled on a pallet stacked high with wooden crates. As we made our way to it, I contemplated pointing out the obviousness of such a hiding place, but as soon as we stepped around it to the back, I knew why he’d chosen it.

“Here. It is far from perfect, but it will have to do.” His voice was quiet as he stepped into a deep door frame behind the pallet, tugging me back into the shadows, pulling my body to his.

I did not have time to protest. I could feel Bael’s presence in the alley beyond our hiding place. It was almost as distracting as the press of Asher’s body against mine, the faint smell of woodsmoke and spring rain clinging to his shirt. My hands came up against his chest, and in the quiet of the night, I felt the steady thrum of his heart.

It came as a surprise. I did not realize Assassins had beating hearts while in the mortal world.

He tipped his head, bringing his mouth to my ear. The kiss of his breath was soft against my skin as he whispered. “Don’t move a muscle.”

And then Bael was there, moving around the pallet, the sickly sweet stench of him seeping into our hiding place, making me want to gag. I fought the urge, burying my face in Asher’s shirt and calling myself a coward.

Take him now! You wanted him. There he is, I thought.

But I could not. It was all I could do to stand, immobile and full of fear, while Bael scoped the small space behind the pallet outside the doorway where we hid. His boot steps fell, heavy and purposeful, stopping only feet away. I was shocked when, a moment later, he spoke.

“I can smell her, Apprentice.” The last word was spat with venom, his voice low and guttural. “I could take her now, but I must admit, I’m enjoying the game. It’s always entertaining to toy with someone who thinks they stand a chance of winning. Besides, you can’t be with her every minute.”

The blood pumped through my body with extraordinary speed, and I looked up at Asher, wondering what he would do.

The answer was nothing. He only gave a small shake of his head as if to say no.

Bael remained a moment longer as if reveling in our predicament. Then his boots fell on the hard ground once again, growing farther and farther away until there was only my breath mingled with the muffled beat of Asher’s heart.

“I want to go home.” I willed my voice steady, aiming the words at Asher’s back.

“It would be foolish to do so now.” He prodded the logs with an iron poker, his voice partially lost in the quickening flame of the fire.

After making our way carefully out of town, Asher had brought me to a cottage at the edge of an empty field. It had seemed desolate at first glance. Abandoned. But once inside, it was surprisingly comfortable, though very small. The rugs blanketing the floors were similar to the ones in my own fire-damaged home, the ancient furniture covered with worn blankets and tapestries.

Asher stood, rising to his full height, and I realized that he was quite tall. His shoulders strained at the fabric of his shirt, and I had a moment’s memory of my face pressed against his muscled chest, the scent of him nearly as distracting as Bael’s footsteps in the alley. A ripple of excitement passed through me.

“I have been sleeping at home since the fire.” I said, lifting my chin with conviction.

“Perhaps.” Asher grabbed a rag from the mantle, wiping his hands on it as he spoke. “But that does not mean it wasn’t foolish. You have only lived this long because Bael thought you had died in the fire. Now that he knows you’re alive, he will come for you. Even more so now that he knows you are under my protection.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, looking away as the truth of his words rang through my mind. It had been an unnecessary risk to remain in my home, despite my precautions to go unseen. But it was all I had left. My parents were gone, the servants released the day after the fire. My home, crumbling and sooty though it may be, was the only thing that remained of my other life. A life I knew I would never lead again.

Still, I recognized the facts. It would be impossible to destroy Bael if he killed me first.

“Fine.” I turned back to Asher, meeting his eyes. “I’ll go back one last time to pack my things before taking a room in town.”

Asher sighed, setting the rag back on the mantle before turning to look at me. “You cannot go back now, in the dark, and none of the lower-profile inns and boarding houses are fit for an unescorted young woman.”

“That is all well and good,” I snapped. “But I need to gather my things, and I’ve nowhere else to go.”

My voice cracked at the end, and tears stung my eyes. I forced myself to blink them away, hoping Asher had not seen them.

He crossed the room, stopping in front of me. “If I promise to go with you tomorrow to gather your things, will you agree to stay here until my business is done?”

“Here? In your home?” It seemed scandalous even in light of the situation.

“It is not my home, exactly. I’m only renting it until I am finished here.” He nodded slowly. “But yes. Here. In this house. I realize it is not proper by your standards, but who is to see?” He looked around the room, glancing back at me with a shrug. “There is no one here but you and me, and I don’t plan to tell anyone.”

I looked around the room. “But ... where will I sleep?”

“Under the circumstances, I think it best that we stick together in case Bael reconsiders and comes after you tonight.” He gestures to the sofa in front of the fire. “You sleep here. I’ll take the floor.”

It did not take long to consider the offer. The room was very warm, and it would be a lie to deny that Asher’s presence was reassuring.

“All right,” I said.

His nod was almost imperceptible, but he moved to a trunk against the wall, removing a stack of blankets from its interior to create a makeshift bed on the sofa. A few minutes later, I lay atop it with my head on a musty-smelling pillow, while Asher settled onto the floor next to me.

I told myself he was only protecting me, as was the task of any Assassin.

And besides, I thought, he’s right. It would be foolish to risk my safety in the dark of night when a more practical option is available. I’ll simply take advantage of his protection right now, and then I’ll go after Bael myself, just as I planned.

I made argument after argument in the hallows of my mind. It all made perfect sense. But with Asher’s steady breath so near and my own heart beating like a drum, I knew it for the lie it was. We approached the house cautiously, doubling back several times to ensure that we were not being followed. I heeded Asher’s every instruction, allowing him to take the lead as we made our way to the only home I had ever known.

The home that would no longer be mine.

It was not as I remembered it. After the fire, I avoided it until nightfall when I was forced to find a place to sleep. Shrouded in darkness with a small fire crackling in the grate of the parlor, it had seemed only slightly shabby. I had slept amid layers of blankets piled before the firebox and had forced from mind the soot staining the walls. The smell of smoke that hung in the rooms like a ghost.

But now, in the harsh light of day and with Asher by my side, I was forced to confront the full measure of the destruction wrought by Bael. As we climbed the steps to the front door, I avoided looking into the yawning emptiness of the windows above. I did not wish to remember the things that had happened in the rooms beyond.

I pushed open the massive front door, and we stepped across the threshold into the entry. I did not linger. The terror and loss of the great house seemed to reach out to me from the soot-blackened walls, and I suddenly wanted nothing more than to leave as quickly as possible.

Asher followed me into the parlor, stepping carefully, as if aware that every floorboard, every piece of carpet, held precious memories.

“I’ll just be a minute.” I headed for the valise on the floor, knowing that everything I could salvage would be there where I left it. I had always been prepared for a quick getaway.

“Take your time.” I did not turn to look at him when he said it, but I was surprised by the gentleness in his voice.

It took only a moment to pack my meager belongings. The shawl Father brought back from India for Mother. The ivory comb he’d given me. The brush and mirror set that had been my grandmother’s, and the few items of clothing I had pulled from the wardrobe in my chamber when preparing for the flight I always knew would be necessary.

I closed the valise, marveling that everything I owned could be contained in the small click of its latch. Straightening with the bag in hand, I took a last look around the room.

“Tell me.” Asher’s voice was soft, and when I looked up, I saw that he was leaning against the wall on the far side of the room, his eyes dark and unreadable.

“Tell you what?”

He tipped his head into the room. “Tell me what you see.”

I swallowed with difficulty, shaking my head.

“It will help you remember.”

Licking my lips, I looked around the room, taking it all in for the last time. “I see the piano in the corner where Mother played when I would sing. I was never in key, but she never seemed to mind.”

“Go on,” he said.

I pointed to a chair near the fire. “That was where Father would sit, smoking his pipe while Mother attended to her needle-work. She didn’t like the smell, but it gave him so much pleasure that she rarely complained.”

“And what about you?”

I looked away from the chair, meeting Asher’s penetrating gaze. “What about me?”

“What would you be doing? When your father was smoking and your mother sewing?”

I looked back to the chairs, seeing my parents as clearly as if they were really in front of us. Seeing myself, too. “I would be reading. Something from the library.”

He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as if he could see it all in the moment before he looked back at me. “What else? What else do you see, Rose?”

I was surprised to hear him speak my given name. It was a caress on his lips.

“I see Father and me playing chess. I see him teaching me.”

The silence lengthened between us, and he pushed off from the wall, crossing the room toward me. “Teaching you what?”

I watched the ghost Rose with her father. Saw him point out the obvious moves. And the not so obvious ones.

“Teaching me about chess. About strategy. About life.” My words became softer as I said it. As I began to understand.

Asher nodded, taking a finger and tipping my face up so that he could look into my eyes. “That’s right. And because of that, he is with you. Will always be with you. As will your mother. You’ll carry them with you, Rose. You’ll see.”

For a moment, I was lost in his eyes. In the feel of his fingertips on my skin. The nearness of his body to mine.

Then I got my bearings, nodding and stepping away. “Thank you.” I did not look back as I headed for the door. “Now let’s leave, please.”

Asher threw another log on the fire as I tucked my clothes into the valise, trying not to feel self-conscious. My hair, loose and curling at my shoulders, was no longer bound by my hat. But that was not the worst of it.

The worst of it was that the men’s clothes I wore to track Bael were dirty. The only other outfit I’d managed to salvage from the fire was a gown—hardly proper, or comfortable, sleeping attire. My lack of choices had forced me to don the white cotton nightdress hand-sewn for me by Mother’s seamstress. As unseemly as it was, I was grateful I’d thought to pack it. Otherwise, I might very well be sleeping in nothing but a chemise, with mere feet between Asher and me.

It was odd being in the company of a young man, and with so few clothes, but these were, if nothing else, odd circumstances. There was nothing to be done about it. I tried to banish thoughts of Asher’s nearness and my own bare skin beneath the nightdress by focusing on the task ahead.

“Tomorrow, I must seek Bael and finish what he started.” I rose from my valise.

Asher stood, turning to me. His voice was full of tenderness. “Why don’t you let me handle Bael? It is what I was sent to do, and it is your right as a Descendant to have my protection.”

“Thank you, Asher. I ... Well, I am grateful for your offer. But this is something I must do. Vengeance for the death of my parents is a matter of honor. Surely, you understand that.”

He favored me with a hesitant nod. “But it is no vengeance if their only child is killed in the process. And make no mistake about it, Rose; you almost certainly will be killed. Bael is the worst of the remaining demons. You have seen that which he is capable.”

“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.

I tried to think of a way to tell him that my reason for hesitating was far darker than fear and infinitely more dangerous. I waited because I relished my hatred for Bael. It was the only thing that made me feel alive, and I held it close like a freezing man clinging to the dying flicker of a fire.

I sat up, hugging my knees to my chest and looking away from Asher’s eyes. They already saw too much of me.

“Once Bael is dead, what will be left of me?” I asked the darkened room. “What reason will I have to wake up each morning? To put one foot in front of the other? To go on while every single person that I cherished is cold and dead in the ground?”

It took him a moment to speak.

“Hate will be a cold consolation for the losses you have endured,” he said softly.

I looked into the fire. “Perhaps. But I have nothing else.”

He sighed. “Rose.” When I turned toward him, he was looking at me with such tenderness that it caused my breath to catch in my throat. No young man had ever looked at me in such a way. “If I agree to aid you in destroying Bael, will you promise to wait until tomorrow when we are both rested and I can fight by your side?”

It took me a moment to speak, so speechless was I by his offer. “You would ... You would do that?”

“It is our task to protect the Descendants. Allowing you to go after Bael on your own would increase your odds of being killed and Bael’s chances of escape, thereby rendering my own mission unsuccessful.”

I tried to mask my hurt. “So that is the only reason you would agree to help me? To ensure that your mission is successful and to see me out of the way so that you might earn your place as an Assassin?”

He reached up to stroke my cheek, his eyes clouded with something I already knew was desire. “You want me to give voice to what has happened between us. To explain it.” He took a deep breath, shaking his head. “I cannot. I have traveled the world over. I have slain frightful demons and been faced with questions that have no answer. Yet none of those questions come close to the one I have found in you.”

I lay my head back on his chest, embarrassed at the intensity of his gaze. “After we destroy Bael, you will have to leave, won’t you? You will be an Assassin in your own right and must continue the Council’s quest to rid the Earth of the remaining demons.”

“Yes,” he said softly. My heart warmed to him further for his honesty. “We should sleep. Tomorrow will be a challenging day for us both.”

I nodded, trying to memorize the feel of his arms around me, the rise and fall of his muscled chest as he breathed. And then, just as I fell into the mystery of sleep, I was flooded with complete and total peace.

His absence was not the first thing I noticed upon waking. It was the weak slant of light spilling from a crack in the parlor’s curtains, casting everything in the unfamiliar room a soupy gray. It took me a moment to remember; Bael at the street fight, Asher’s hand on my arm, our hiding place in the alley, my last visit to the house.

And then, Asher’s hands in my hair. His mouth on mine. The chiseled plane of his chest under my hands.

I sat up, the blankets falling away as I looked around the parlor. The embers were still hot in the fireplace, but there was no one else in the room.

Asher was gone, as I should have known he would be.

The streets were nearly empty as I made my way through town. It was too early for civilized people to be about, though I came across a few laborers and a drunkard passed out cold on the side of the road.

I was no longer nervous in the more questionable neighborhoods Bael preferred. In the past week, I had followed him to brothels, fights, seedy drinking establishments, and of course, the boarding house in which he rented a room. I saw it now, rising before me in crumbling brick, and thought back to all the times I stood in the shadows, cursing myself for allowing him to live another day.

But now I understood. Now I knew.

Those moments all led to this one. This was the moment when Bael would finally fall. And if I had anything to say about it, he would not do so at the end of the Apprentice’s Blade, but at the end of mine.

I made my way up the steps, eyeing the dark places along the buildings on either side. Bael was a creature of habit and would likely still be asleep in his bed, but it would not do to be careless now. Not after all I had been through to reach this moment.

The front door was unlocked, as it always was, and I made my way inside, closing the door softly behind me. I started up the L-shaped staircase to the right of the entry, stepping over the second squeaky riser. I was grateful my initial fury at Asher had passed. I could not afford to have anything cloud my judgment. Besides, I should be angry at myself for trusting him.

Even still, we were on the same side. We both wanted the demon dead, and I was happy to allow Asher the glory. I wanted only the knowledge of my vengeance.

The thought caused me to move faster. It was quiet in the boarding house, and I began to worry that I was too late. That Asher had already dispensed with Bael. But a moment later, a loud crash beyond the top of the staircase told me I had arrived just in time.

I raced up the last few stairs, stopping at the top of the landing, trying to follow the sound. There was a muffled grunting and cursing, punctuated by a slamming that seemed to shake the very house. I turned my head to the right, following a terrific bang that brought to mind an overturned wardrobe or chest of drawers. It was a testament to the nature of the boarding house that no one opened a door to ask about the noise or demand quiet. Fights were not uncommon in this part of town. It was dangerous to involve oneself with quarrels that were not one’s own.

Passing by the first door on the left, I continued down the hall to the second as the crashing grew louder. I stopped in front of the second door, gathering my wits and trying to calm the slamming of my heart against my chest. Then, all at once, it grew quiet, the noise from within the room stilling as quickly as it had started.

There was suddenly no time to wait.

I flung open the door, quietly but swiftly, not wanting to give Bael an advantage. It took only seconds to assess the scene before me. I calculated my options at lightning speed the way Father had taught me.

The disheveled room. Broken glass on the floor. An overturned writing desk two feet in front of me. And fifteen feet away, Bael and Asher, their bodies frighteningly still and close, against the wall across the room.

Then, the most important thing of all; Bael, one arm shoved up against Asher’s neck, choking him as he held a glistening Blade against the throbbing pulse at Asher’s throat. My fingers caressed the handle of my dagger, raising it as I felt Father’s hand on my arm, heard his voice in the recesses of my mind.

Hit your mark, Rose.

Instinct took over, and the knife left my hand before I could contemplate my chances. It sailed through the air, the ancient words inscribed on its hilt writhing and swirling as the weapon cartwheeled toward its target.

Everything slowed down, and Asher’s eyes grew wide, meeting mine over Bael’s shoulder. I did not see the fear I expected. Nor was there anger that I had come despite his obvious desire that I remain at the cottage.

No. There was only relief and gratitude and something deeper and too complex to name.

It all happened in the instant before the knife hit Bael between the shoulder blades, a sickening thud sounding at the moment of impact. For a moment, the demon did not move. Asher still struggled against his grip, and I wondered if it was all a dream. If I had not, in fact, just hit Bael with the only weapon that could kill him—an angel’s Avenging Blade.

But then a crimson blanket began to spread outward from the knife protruding from his back. Bael’s arm loosened and then dropped from Asher’s throat as he staggered backward, falling to the floor, his eyes roaming the room desperately for a glimpse of his killer.

When he saw me, still standing in the doorway, his eyes flashed.

“You.” It was not an accusation but a declaration.

A second later, flames erupted at the center of his body, a flash of purple fire rising from them in the moment before the flames disappeared in a muffled whoosh, leaving nothing in its place save the faint smell of burning mortal flesh.

Asher slid down the wall, his breath coming in ragged gasps, a fine line of blood trickling from a small cut in his neck. I knelt beside him, waiting for his breath to steady and wondering if he would be angry after all. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak, and I braced myself for his wrath, my arguments at the ready.

“You have good aim,” he croaked.

I nodded, my shoulders sagging in relief. “Thank you.”

I do not know how long we sat in the now-quiet room. Time had warped and slowed in the aftermath of Bael’s destruction. Finally, I could not wait any longer.

“I suppose you’ll be going now? Moving on to the next demon? Attempting to protect another family of Descendants?”

He nodded, pushing himself to his feet with effort and making his way to the door. Turning back, he managed a pained smile. “You coming?”

My heart lifted. I was at his side in seconds. He took my hand, leading me out the door and down the stairs. Opening the front door to the boarding house, the morning light was a flash of brilliance. And then, we were out of the darkness at last.