Assassin's Heart (Assassin's Heart, #1)(64)

“I was arrow shot, crossing the dead plains. The damn Addamos were chasing me and were too cowardly to follow me past the river.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Oh. I sighed. “I don’t . . . I’m not even certain where to start.”

“How about you start with how you let my boy crack his thick skull almost wide open.”

I held back a laugh. I didn’t think my uncle would appreciate it. Not that I thought Les would appreciate Marcello calling him a boy. Or thickheaded.

“We were training. But then he was angry at me and tried to leave, and I followed him.”

“Les does not have a temper. What did you do to anger him so?” He clipped out another stitch.

“I don’t know. And before I got a chance to question him further, we were confronted by a ghost.”

Marcello’s scissors hovered over my shoulder. “In the streets?”

I nodded.

“How did you get away?”

I paused. If I told him the truth, it would lead to more questions. Questions I couldn’t answer. But I knew he’d be able to tell if I lied. And remaining truthful with him was probably my last chance to get into his good graces. I couldn’t afford another misstep.

“It vanished before it could hurt us. I can’t really explain it.”

“It vanished in the sunlight, perhaps?”

I shrugged, and my uncle grabbed my shoulder, holding me in place. “In the sunlight, they simply fade away. This was something else. This was violent. I sent it away, somehow. Or Safraella did.”

He grunted disapprovingly and glared at me until I turned away. He moved to the stitches on the front of my shoulder.

“We were foolish,” I continued. “We’d left our weapons behind and were arguing in an alley and a lawman, a crooked lawman named Lefevre, found us. He’d brought men, and they attacked.”

“You were unarmed?” He stopped in his ministrations. He took a few steadying breaths. “How could you be so incompetent? How did you even earn your mask?”

My turn for a deep breath. I had stay on his good side. I needed him more than ever now. “I already said it was foolish. This place, this city, it pushes against me. It makes me sloppy.”

He snorted. “And this lawman attacked you because . . .”

“Captain Lefevre wanted to give me to the Da Vias for coin, and he wanted Les for his murders. I warned him away, but he didn’t listen. There is no respect for clippers in this city. No respect for Safraella.”

He set his scissors down and I examined my shoulder. It looked much better. Marcello sat in his chair and returned to the liquor in his glass. “Well, what did you expect? That you’d come here and the people would fall to their knees at the sight of you? That they would turn their eyes to Safraella and forsake their own gods? You are a foolish child.”

My cheeks burned. “Foolish I may be, but I am no more a child than Alessio is a boy. I am the head of the Saldana Family, and though I receive no respect from the people of Yvain, I command it from you, Her disciple. And someone who should know better.”

He rolled his eyes and sipped his drink before he motioned for me to continue with the story.

I took a moment to calm myself. I didn’t know this man who shared my blood. I didn’t know if he purposely aimed to anger me or if he truly meant the things he said.

“I tried to keep Les safe. I kept him out of the fight, though I knew he would not thank me for it. But when the giant attacked me, I crashed into Les and he took the brunt of our fall. After that we had to hide from lawmen until I could get him here.”

“What happened to the men you fought?”

“I stopped them.”

“How many were there?”

“Six. Though one fled, injured. And I can’t be sure the ones I dropped were all dead. I didn’t have time to check.”

“Six men. And you were unarmed and trapped in an alley.”

“I had a stiletto.”

He stared at me, then downed his drink in a single gulp. “Who was your teacher?”

“My brother Rafeo. And my father and mother, of course.”

“Your brother.”

I nodded. “Matteo, my other brother, wouldn’t bother. Sometimes I would spar with Jesep, too. Or Val.”

“Val. I do not recognize this name.”

“Valentino Da Via. He’s my suitor.” What I said hit me like a punch to the gut. “Was my suitor.”

His eyes widened and showed a touch of that rage I had witnessed before. “You were fraternizing with the Da Vias? Did your parents know?”

I exhaled, trying to tread carefully. He could explode again. Throw his glass into the fire and scream his rage once more.

“No. I hid it from them. There was no love between us and the Da Vias. I think my father had tried to buy peace between us when I was younger, but it didn’t work.”

He took a breath. “Dante was always something of a fool, though maybe he’ll have more wisdom in his new life.”

I bristled. “Don’t speak of my father that way.”

Marcello smirked. He opened his mouth to counter but then seemed to deflate. “I suppose you are right. It does me no good to speak ill of the dead, even if they brought about their own demise.”