Guilty as Sin (54 page)

made of silvery shadow. She stepped close, nuzzled a cool nose into the curve of

Michael
‟
s neck. “It
‟
s too cold to sleep alone.”

When she licked the tender patch of skin behind his ear, he stumbled despite

himself, and Dax chuckled, taking him down to the nest they
‟
d made. Before he could

protest, Lise tugged his boots off.

Irritably, he grabbed a squishy cushion and shoved it under his head. Outside, the

stars wheeled by in an endless procession of blue-white glory.

Lise said, “Fort and Griff work for Jan. Fort
‟
s a roustabout with the Ten Nations

Fair. Griff
‟
s a tumbler.” She settled herself beside him. “Oh, and he
‟
s a professional

knifethrower. Does an act.”

Michael snapped his fingers. “That
‟
s it! I saw him, years ago.” He grinned, the

memory a happy one. “We cut our way into the Big Top one night, hoping for better

pickings.” He chuckled. “Griff was on the trapeze. Gods, he was good. I was so

distracted I nearly got caught. Didn
‟
t usually work that way, but if it hadn
‟
t been for—”

He broke off, but it was too late.

“Tannio,” Lise said quietly.

252

Assassins’ Guild—History:

The Assassins’ Guild of the Kingdom of the Leaves of the Sea is believed to have been the

invention of King Marake VIII. Given that he was poisoned in a manner so efficient that no trace

of the culprit could be found, many historians assume he was the victim of his own creation.

Excerpt from the
Great Encyclopedia
, compiled by Miriliel the Burnished.

* * * * *

“Now we
‟
re getting to it.” Dax tossed his boots aside and stripped off his shirt. He

rolled over, propped on his elbows. “Don
‟
t you think it
‟
s about time we knew?”

Michael couldn
‟
t prevent the snarl. “Lise does. And I bet she couldn
‟
t wait to dig

for more.”

“We have the basic facts,” said Lise, “for all the godsbedamn use they are You

loved him.” She watched him, the gray gaze calm and clear. “And then he died.”

Words spilled out of him like pus from a wound. “I couldn
‟
t stop it, couldn
‟
t stop

him!” He breathed deep, forced a smile. “Ah well, it was a long time ago.”

“
Shh.
” Like a great cat, Dax brushed his smooth cheek against Michael
‟
s stubbled

jaw.

Lise took his hand, her thumb brushing rhythmically over his knuckles. “Let us tell

you what we know and you can fill in the gaps.” Her voice came out of the darkness,

soft and even. “The first record we have of Tannio is on a list of child pickpockets. Later

as a street whore.”

Dax rubbed gentle circles over Michael
‟
s belly, the warmth of his broad palm

penetrating through the fabric of his shirt.

“A few years after that, he turns up on the rolls of the Assassins
‟
Guild,” Lise went

on, “along with a boy called Michael. There
‟
s a brief description of Tannio—taller than

average, well built, olive skin, brown eyes, brown hair.”

“It curled,” Michael whispered, remembering the soft weight sliding across his

thigh.

“Hautlord Idris employed him as a bodyguard, along with five others. It was his

first legal job, the start of a new career. He must have been excited.”

“Yes.” Michael closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of featheroil. “He didn
‟
t even

care about Idris fucking him. Said it didn
‟
t matter. And it didn
‟
t—not to him.”

“But you loved him.” There was a world of compassion in Dax
‟
s deep voice, but no

pity.

253

“He took me out for a meal to celebrate, a real one in a tavern. There was music.

We…danced. He loved to dance. Then we fucked like there was no tomorrow.” He had

to swallow to clear the lump in his throat. “Gods, we were young.”

Lise
‟
s fingers tightened on his. “The hautlord had been selling state secrets,

dabbling in the drug trade. His enemies were closing in. So he bought protection.”

“Bastard knew,” Michael ground out. “He had money to burn and his contacts were

good. He discovered the cook had been bought, she was going to poison the food at his

daughter
‟
s birthday banquet.”

“But he had no proof and no idea which dish so he said nothing to his bodyguards,

even though he intended to have them taste his food. It was an accepted part of their

duties.”

“Expendable,” growled Dax.

His tail brushed Michael
‟
s arm. Automatically, he turned his wrist and caged the

silky cable in his fingers, drawing it across his chest. With Lise gripping his other hand,

he had the strangest sense they were holding him together, the shards of his grief and

guilt still razor sharp, but snap frozen, held separate from the rest of him. Sealed against

his, Dax
‟
s big body generated heat like a furnace, but Michael shivered, alternately hot

and cold as if he had the winter ague. Uselessly, he tried to brace himself for the part

that always flayed him alive.

Lise exhaled softly. “It was Tannio who ate the poisoned sweetmeat. Idris had the

cook tortured until she revealed who
‟
d paid her. The following night a warehouse near

the south wall burned to the ground. No trace was ever found of the shady merchant

who owned it nor of his wife and children.”

Out in the dark, the brook chuckled as if wholesale slaughter was humorous.

“You told me Tannio was stubborn.” Lise leaned forward. “Michael, he made his

choice.”

“I know.” Abruptly, he released her fingers. Had he been crushing them? “It took

him a day and a night to die. I gave all the money we had to the healer, but all she could

do was dose him with
godspeace
to dull the pain. Except he couldn
‟
t keep it down.”

He could barely croak, bile rising sour in his throat. “Such a filthy way to die,

drownin
‟
in yer own guts, the shit, the stink. Gods—”

“Oh love.” Lise lay down beside him, gathered him into her arms and folded her

wings over him.

Dax patted his shoulder and made soothing noises.

Michael pinched the bridge of his nose. He hadn
‟
t cried for Tannio in years, though

at first he
‟
d thought he might drown in his tears. The vengeance had helped.

“That
‟
s not the worst.” Shrugging out of their embrace, he sat up. Best to get it over

with, like lancing a boil. “I used to visit an apothecary
‟
s apprentice. There was nothing

in it, just a casual fuck, but she overheard the hautlord
‟
s cook buying poisonous herbs

from her master and she thought it was odd. Twister, that girl could talk.”

254

“Tannio
knew?
”

Unseeing, he stared out at the indifferent stars. “I tried. I argued, shouted, but he—

He laughed. Said I was worse than an old woman for imagining things. Idris had

promised them a bonus, and anyhow, the odds were in his favor and he had a cast-iron

gut. I should have sat on him, tied him down, but he was so confident, so…himself, you

know? So I let him go to his death. Fuck, what a fool!”

Dax said, “You worshipped him.” It wasn
‟
t a question.

“I guess.” He shrugged. “I could have saved his life, but I didn
‟
t.” His lips pulled

back from his teeth. “I caught up with Idris though. It took me a year to get him alone

and I had to whore myself to do it, but I killed him.” He let a beat of silence go by,

waiting for them to recoil. “It helped.”

“Good,” said Lise.

“He deserved it,” rumbled Dax.

Michael blinked. “What?”

Lise said, “If the positions had been reversed, if you
‟
d been the hautlord
‟
s

bodyguard, what would you have done?”

“Tied the apothecary hand and foot and taken him to Idris.”

“There you are!” She threw her hands up with the air of someone making a point.

Michael frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Dax grasped his shoulders. “Tannio was young, but what he did was
stupid
.” His

teeth gleamed, the high curve of a wing a dense shadow arching from behind his

shoulder. “You were the clever one. I wonder if he knew?”

Michael gaped.

“Young men think they
‟
re immortal, invulnerable,” Lise said dryly. “It
‟
s an

occupational hazard. Some of them don
‟
t survive it.”

He floundered, clutching at the memory of that cheerful face, the merry brown

eyes. Tannio had always taken the lead, always known what to do. Other memories

intruded, one narrow escape after another, the frantic thudding of his heart as they

dived into the sewers yet again. Gods, they
‟
d got into so much trouble it was a miracle

they
‟
d lived long enough to enter the Assassins
‟
Guild.

“This way, Mikey,” Tannio would say, his eyes dancing, and inevitably disaster

would be waiting around the corner.

“How old are you now?” asked Lise.

“Uh.” He was drowning, the bedrock of his life gone to liquid beneath his feet. “Not

sure. More than thirty.”

“Look at Tannio from a grown man
‟
s perspective.”

Gingerly, he poked at the landscape of his past, waiting to be obliterated under an

avalanche of misery and confusion. There
‟
d been the time Tannio had been caught by a

furious shopkeeper, so Michael had faked a fit in front the man while his friend had

255

run, two ripe
gaeta
fruit shoved up under his shirt, laughing so hard his legs shook

beneath him.

Once, Tannio had taken a wrong turn, leading them so deep into the sewers,

Michael thought they might drown when the tide came in, though the sea was more

than eighty miles distant. Even now, he shuddered to think of the ragged beings who

dwelled there, sharp rocks gleaming in clawed fingers, mad eyes glittering in the

phosphorescent light. If it hadn
‟
t been for the stub of chalk he kept in his pocket for

emergencies…

But Tannio had insisted he wasn
‟
t lost. “This way, Mikey.”

He
‟
d been like that when they fucked, by turns demanding and tender. The first

few times, it had hurt enough to bring tears to Michael
‟
s eyes, tough as he was.

But Tannio had laughed, breathless and exultant, dark curls falling into his eyes.

“Do ye like that, Mikey?” A sharp thrust. “Fuck, it
‟
s good, innit?”

He
‟
d gritted his teeth, buried his face in his arms and agreed, yes, it was good. After

a little while, he didn
‟
t even have to lie.

The sense of loss was so sudden, so sharp, he could have sworn he
‟
d been gutted,

his insides scooped out the way you
‟
d use a spoon to eviscerate a rotten fruit. “No.

That
‟
s not—”

He was surrounded by wings, strong arms, firm bodies, soft lips. “I think it is,” Dax

said, deep and gentle.

He couldn
‟
t catch his breath, as if the Twister had reached sly fingers into his chest

and plucked out his lungs, deft as a pickpocket lifting a purse. Poor Tannio, he
‟
d been

hopeless at that as well, so Michael had filched the wallets and Tannio had run with the

proceeds. At least he
‟
d been good for something.

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods.” Was that his voice, so small and lost?

Low and urgent, Lise said, “It wasn
‟
t your fault. You did everything you could and

more. Tannio made his own choices. Michael,
it wasn’t your fault
.”

He was shaking so hard his entire body rattled. A pained whine forced its way from

between his teeth.

“Veil-it,” said Dax. “Ah, sweetheart, come here.”

Quick hands stripped him of shirt and trews and then he was pressed full length