The Iron Butterfly (Iron Butterfly #1)(54)

He punched me in the jaw and I went slack with dizziness. I saw him grin in triumph as he raised the knife to slice my throat. Praying to God to make it quick and painless, I closed my eyes.

A soft thud and a grunt were all I heard as I opened my eyes, to see the man drop the knife that was inches from my neck and fall onto my body, blood trickling from his mouth.

Crying out in fear I struggled with the weight of his body and tried to push him off of me. Feeling his blood flow onto me, he was still breathing, rasping in my ear.

Soft sobs escaped me as I was helpless to move his dying form. The sound of footsteps drew near as the body was rolled over onto the floor next to me. Not caring if I lived or died, or if the other person in the room meant me harm, I curled up in a fetal position and watched the man slowly die. All thoughts of being brave left as I watched him struggle for life.

“We will keep coming,” he rasped out. “Until she’s dead. There are more of us. There are always more, willing to die for the Raven and his ideas.” He began to cough and spit out more blood.

Wherever he was wounded, it was a mortal wound.

“We are like the sands on a shore, numerous beyond measure and everywhere. Eventually we will have her and she will die.”

He didn’t say anymore as the other stranger in the room was tired of his threats and leaned over the body grabbing the head, while blocking my view. The thought faintly hit me that this must be the deadly SwordBrother. The sound of the neck snapping brought me back to awareness and hysteria at all at once.

“NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO!” I heard myself say over and over again. A faint pressure was building in my head, the signs of another headache coming on.

“Shhh, Thalia, shhhh. It’s alright. You’re safe,” the SwordBrother kindly intoned.

Turning toward me, he used his body to block the sight of the dead assassin. Raising his gloved hand he stroked my hair from my forehead in a gentle and reassuring manner.

“Who are you?” I whispered into the dark.

“I’m a SwordBrother.”

I wasn’t in the mood for games. “No. What’s your name?”

He leaned back on his heels, bringing his face into the moonlight.

“But you already know it,” he spoke softly. The moonlight illuminated the strong jaw, the long black hair and dark stormy eyes of Kael.





Chapter 22





My heart fluttered in excitement and apprehension at seeing him. “What are you doing here? Are you following me?” I asked defensively.

Kael pulled back his hand, his face becoming stone, hiding all of his emotions. “I’m here because I was asked to be here by Pax Baton as a favor, to test the Citadel’s defenses” His eyes bore into mine and he rocked back onto the balls of his feet, hands resting on his knees.

“But you showed up in the marketplace and saved me, and now here. How did you know I was in trouble if you weren’t following me?” I blurted out angrily.

He snorted. “You must think pretty highly of yourself, if you believe that you’re important enough to have a SwordBrother protecting you.”

I gave Kael a startled look.

Leaning in close to me his breath whispering against my ear, he said very slowly, “Believe me, you’re not.”

My blood boiled at his words. He drove me to insanity with his apparent disregard for me. How can a person save your life in one breath and act like he can’t stand you the next?

“If I’m not important, maybe you should have left me to die,” I snarled at him, showing him my teeth and displeasure.

“Believe me, I’ve thought about it.”

Jumping to his feet, he walked over to the dead assassin and began to rummage through his pockets, pulling out a garrote, a small piece of paper that looked to be a sketch of the Citadel, throwing knives, a small clear vial of fluid, which Kael sniffed and labeled as poison, and another piece of paper with ancient symbols drawn on it.

Obviously he was one of the vile Septori, but he had told us nothing of where he came from. Kael found the side pouch and pulled out my clay pot and put it on the floor without opening it, giving me a look.

“Why don’t you smell that one?” I asked, wishing full well he would, so that he would fall asleep. It would serve him right for the way he treated me.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “No, thank you, I’ve seen what this can do.”

The hair on my arms stood on end. That was all the proof I needed, he just gave himself away.

“You can deny it all you want, but how do you even know what is in that jar if you weren’t following me?” I gradually slid up the armoire with my hands pressed against the wood. “I didn’t even pick up those items, Avina did. And I transferred them to those clay bottles myself, alone, in my room.”

Kael stopped rummaging in the pack and slowly stood facing me, his face unreadable. “You forget that this whole thing is a test, in which I am paid, mind you, to kill you. I would be lax in my duties if I didn’t stake out my target before I attacked.” He took a step toward me and the way his voice changed and became deeper made me want to bolt for the door, which I did. Running for the door I grabbed the handle only to be stopped at the last minute as his full weight slammed against mine, the door trapping me and his arms holding the door closed. His body was pressed close so I couldn’t escape under his arms.