The Queen's Blade Prequel II - God Touched (18 page)

Blade inclined
his head, wiping his dagger on the velvet drapes. “You were
expecting it to be more exciting?”

“
It seemed... so easy.”

“
That's what you paid for. A swift, silent end.”

“
It was amazing.” She trailed her fingers across her chest,
parting her diaphanous nightgown, which barely hid her nakedness.
Sliding off the bed, she approached him, skirting the dead
pig.

“
You are skilled indeed. A master assassin, well worthy of your
title, though you have the appearance of a youth. We shall have
wine.”

He sheathed
his daggers. “No we will not, Viscountess. Do you have the rest of
my fee?”

She moved
closer, her voice dropping to a throaty purr. “Come now, do not be
coy. Are you not titillated? Does killing a man not excite
you?”

“
No.”

Marilda
stopped before him, too close for comfort. “If you wish the rest of
your fee, lie with me.”

“
I beg your pardon?”

The
viscountess gripped the front of his jacket and, taking him by
surprise, pushed him backwards. The bed caught him behind his
knees, and he landed on his back, the noblewoman on top of him. She
straddled him, shed her negligee with a shrug and leant close.
Blade froze, staring at her perfect, slender nakedness. Marilda
slithered onto his chest, as lissom as a snake, and gripped his
face. Pressing her lips to his, she tried to push her tongue into
his mouth. The bed foiled Blade's recoil, but he kept his mouth
closed. When his hands flashed up to push her away they encountered
soft skin, and he snatched them back. Her grip stopped him from
turning his head aside, and shock, mingled with intense curiosity,
held him fast. Perhaps this time it would be different, although he
did not want her tongue in his mouth. She trailed her lips and
tongue over his cheek, tugging his collar open.

“
You are a beautiful man,” she murmured in his ear. “So strong
and deadly, like a big, gorgeous cat.” She drew back to gaze at the
base of his throat, her finger tracing his mark. “A beautiful
killer.”

Blade wondered
why he was so cold inside, as if a blizzard had invaded his chest.
He may as well have been a piece of wood. Nothing had changed since
his last encounter with a noble slut, much as he wished it had. How
he longed for the lust other men had, so he could show her how much
of a man he was. He was not, however, and all her beauty and
sensuality did not stir one iota of desire in him. She fumbled open
his jacket's laces and pushed her hand inside, encountering his
leather vest.

She giggled.
“You wear far too many clothes.”

Shaking back
her hair, she raised her eyes to his and froze, blinking. Blade
knew what she had seen there; the utter iciness and emptiness he
had seen in the mirror so many times. With a swift shove, he pushed
her aside and rolled on top of her, straddling her. He found a
dagger in his hand, although he did not recall drawing it, and it
was pressed against the side of her neck, where her life throbbed
so close to the surface.

The
humiliation of his lack yearned for release. One swift slash and
she would die in a fountain of blood. He leant closer, gazing deep
into her eyes. She gulped, raising her hands in a warding gesture,
and placed them on his chest. She was so weak, so helpless, and so
beautiful. He longed to snuff her like a candle between finger and
thumb. Her lust offended him. All he had was perhaps a little
despair. He was frozen. She panted with terror, her eyes
white-ringed, reading her death in his.

“
You are right, Viscountess,” he murmured. “I am a killer. That
is all I am, and all I sell is death.” He tilted his head. “Yet you
wish to fornicate with me beside the body of your husband before he
has even grown cold. You disgust me. Do you truly wish to join
him?”

Marilda's head
jerked from side to side, and she gulped again. Her silence bought
her life, for he was certain that if she had spoken at that moment
he would have killed her. Yet the thought of doing so sickened him.
She was helpless, but then, everyone was, against him. Why did the
thought of her death repel him? Her soft skin brought memories of
other gentle hands that reached out from his past, through the
mists that hid it, to stroke and cuddle while a sweet voice
murmured tender words. He lifted the dagger, holding it before her
flinching eyes.

“
This is what you bought. Do not play with ice, Viscountess. It
kills just as surely as fire. A more painless end, certainly, but
an end all the same. You are closer to it now than you have ever
been before. Does it not titillate you? Are you not
excited?”

She stared at
him, licking her lips. He longed to slice off the wet pink
appendage that had assaulted his mouth, and the lush lips it
moistened. He turned his head and spat.

“
You are worse than a whore. You would pay to rut with the man
who just killed your husband. You think your beauty will tempt me,
but the ugliness of your mind disgusts me. You inflict your
wantonness upon me and sully me with your lust. He was guilty of
being a fat smelly man, no fault of his. You are a
defiler.”

Blade released
her and rose to his feet. “Clothe yourself and bring me my
money.”

Marilda donned
a satin gown with shaking hands, unable to meet his eyes. She went
over to a desk and drew out a bag of coins, placing it in his hand.
Blade sheathed his dagger and tied the pouch to his belt. She
retreated, looking dazed, when he brushed past her on his way to
the door, where he paused.

“
I advise you to scream long and hard in the morning,
Viscountess, if you wish to convince everyone that you're innocent
of this crime. Doubtless you will enjoy sleeping beside his cold
corpse as much as you enjoyed watching him die.”

She nodded,
rubbing her neck where his dagger had touched her.

Blade slipped
out and locked the door behind him before retracing his steps
through the garden. Instead of returning to his rooms, as he had
planned, his steps led him to Lilu's door in the seedy whorehouse.
She sat up when he banged the door closed, her hair wild and her
bloodshot eyes wide and red-rimmed in a puffy face. It looked as if
she had been weeping. He paced up and down the room, barely five
steps in either direction.

Lilu lighted a
lamp, watching him. “Blade? What is it? What's wrong?”

He shook his
head.

“
What's happened? Are you all right?”

He ran a hand
through his hair, scowling. She rose and gripped his arm, halting
him. He turned his head to look down at her hand, and she released
him.

“
What did she do?”

Blade paced
again, and she sat on the bed.

“
You'll wear a hole in my floor.” She patted the bed beside
her. “Come and sit down. Tell me what happened. She tried to seduce
you, didn't she?”

His mouth
twisted.

“
You were right to reject her. She's a slut.”

Blade stopped
and stared at the far wall, then walked over to sit beside her, his
gaze fixed upon the floor. She hesitated, then took hold of his
hand, a little surprised when he did not pull it away.

“
You did the right thing. You're far too pure for her to
tarnish with her depravity.”

Realising that
he was not going to speak no matter how much she coaxed him, she
pressed his hand to her cheek. She knew that any hint of flirtation
from her now would send him out of the door faster than the north
wind howled through the Boundary Mountains' crags. He had come to
her for some sort of comfort, she hoped, and she thought she knew
the reason. Wealthy noblewomen were well known for their appetite
for forbidden flesh, particularly that of young men and especially
ones like Blade, whose cold beauty and deadly reputation made him
so attractive.

Something had
upset him to the point that he could not speak of it, and she knew
better than to try to persuade him. He would do so when he was
ready. She released his hand and poured two cups of wine, the sort
he liked, which she kept a bottle of now, for when he visited. He
took a gulp, and she noticed that his hand trembled a little.
Almost half a time-glass passed while they sipped wine
together.

He raised his
head and whispered, “She wanted to watch.”

“
Who did you kill for her?”

“
Her husband.”

“
Why did she want him dead?”

“
She disliked him. He was a man of the boar. She is kin of
snakes.”

Lilu nodded,
watching him. “What did she do to you?”

He touched his
lips. “She wanted to lie with me.”

“
She kissed you?”

“
She tried.”

“
You feel... violated?”

“
Defiled.” He glared at the wall. “She's a defiler.”

She hesitated.
“To have her thrust unwanted attentions on you would make you feel
like that, naturally.”

“
I almost killed her.”

“
You hurt her?”

“
No. I wanted to kill her. I was a hair's breadth from slitting
her throat, but she has no mark upon her.”

Lilu knew that
the foolish noblewoman was fortunate indeed that Blade was averse
to killing a woman. “That's good.”

He glanced at
her. “Why would she do such a thing to a stranger?”

“
She's wanton. Some noblewomen allow their lust to rule them,
and take advantage of young men. What has upset you so? Is it
because she tried to kiss you, or seduce you?”

“
All of it. She looks beautiful, but inside she's ugly. She
made a mockery of my trade with her wish to rut with me afterwards,
beside the body of her dead husband.”

“
Oh, I see.” Lilu smiled. “Your pride is wounded. She didn't
fear you. She should have respected your status as a killer, not
so?”

He inclined
his head, frowning. “I suppose that's part of it. Also that she
thrust her unwanted attentions on me.”

Lilu bit her
lip, not knowing what to say. She could tell him she understood,
and that it was a natural reaction, but she could not reveal that
she knew the reason for it. He did not want anyone to know what he
was, of that she was certain, and most people did not. She hoped he
would tell her, but suspected he would not, since all her teasing
had not made him reveal it. He must know she would stop if he told
her the truth, yet still he would not, even though her flirting
annoyed him. He longed to be like other men, and advances such as
this only rubbed salt into his wounds.

She leant
closer and took his hand again. “I'm glad you're not tempted by
sluts like her. She's beneath you.”

He pulled his
hand free and slugged back the last of his wine, banging the cup
down on the bedside table. “I must bathe.”

Lilu watched
him leave with a heavy heart, wishing he would stay. Clearly all he
wanted now, however, was to wash off the noblewoman's touch, a
strange reaction. Then again, there was nothing normal about Blade,
she mused.

Chapter Ten

Blade closed
the spyglass and leant against the chimney behind him, pondering
his next target with some frustration. Lord Rothwayer's mansion was
a veritable fortress, as many that belonged to high-ranking
nobility were. Nobles who frequented the Queen's court tended to be
targets for assassination, and ensured that it was all but
impossible. In addition to the bars on Lord Rothwayer's windows,
eight dogmen patrolled around the house, alert for danger. They
looked like veterans of the Great War, too old for soldiering but
formidable and well-trained all the same. Just like the sacred
Knights of the Veil who guarded the priestesses and their temples,
and underwent voluntary castration to gain the privilege.

Three days
ago, a messenger had handed him a missive requesting Lord
Rothwayer's death and promising fifty goldens for the job to be
done. Yesterday he had received the down payment, but since then he
had been unable to find a chink in the lord's defences. Rothwayer
was a close associate of the Queen, and accorded the privilege of
his rank in the form of wealth and servants, many of whom lived in
the mansion's servants' quarters and were on duty at night. The
lord also had a wife and three children, and his two young sons
were dog kin. Rothwayer himself was owl kin, a portly man with a
kindly face and an air of wisdom. His wife was squirrel kin, and
his daughter, the eldest of his children, appeared to be something
even more insignificant, like mouse or lizard.

One thing that
Blade's spying had taught him, however, was that Rothwayer had a
good appetite for pretty young whores, and one visited the mansion
each night after dusk. The assassin contemplated the prospect of
donning a female disguise again without enthusiasm. There seemed to
be no other choice with so many guards, servants and family members
around Lord Rothwayer. Every day, he travelled to the palace in a
gilded carriage with his guards, and he did not appear to frequent
any drinking establishments.

Blade rose and
stretched before walking to the edge of the roof to jump down into
the street, startling a barrow-hag. The old harridans seemed to be
everywhere, he mused, as he wandered towards Lilu's lodgings. The
whore was busy when he arrived, judging by the sounds coming from
her room, and he settled in the taproom to wait. When she emerged a
few minutes later, he crooked a finger at her, and she slid onto
the bench opposite with a smile. He drew two goldens from his purse
and held them out.