Page 5 of Blood & Roses

“You have a lot of questions,” the male countered, sitting back in the small wooden chair and leaning precariously on its two back legs. “Let me ask one of my own: Which sister are you? I know there are several.”

“Isolde,” I replied, trying not to lose my patience with the male’s impertinence. “But my sisters call me Izzy.”

“Isolde,” he said, nodding as if slotting information into its correct place in his brain. “The bloodweaver.”

“Yes,” I confirmed, still waiting for him to answer any of the questions I had posed. “And who are you, exactly?”

“I already told you my name,” he replied, raising a brow at me in challenge. “And I’m a client. I need an assassin.”

“Well, I’m technically retired,” I said, putting my hands on my hips in a gesture that Lis always said reminded her of Mother. “And if you won’t answer any of my questions, Mr. Ravenswood, you need to look elsewhere.”

“Rowan,” he corrected, grinning at me with perfectly straight, white teeth. “And, don’t take this the wrong way, but Ididwitness you commit murder this morning, did I not? You don’t appear to be retired.”

“That was a special case,” I explained, heart twisting at the memory of the desperate girl who had asked for our help. My help. “An abusive father. I was protecting his girls.”

Rowan’s face shuttered, his grin falling. “Then I’m glad you killed the bastard.”

“As am I,” I agreed. “Are you planning to answer my questions?”

“No,” Rowan grunted, standing and pulling his bow and quiver back over his shoulder. “You don’t look like you’re really up to taking on aseriousjob anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said indignantly, crossing my arms and scowling. I knew what he was doing, trying to rile me into taking his job. It annoyed me immensely that it was working.

“I’m sorry, I just expected the infamous Nightshade sisters to be a bit more…”

“What?” I pushed, narrowing my eyes.

“Fearsome,” he said, with a helpless sort of shrug. “More like the female I saw in the tavern this morning.”

“Thatwas an act,” I reminded him acerbically.

“Clearly,” he laughed, the sound grating on my nerves. “You’re currently wearing an apron with little embroidered apples and flowers on it. It doesn’t scream ‘assassin’.”

“I don’t like to get blood on my clothes,” I argued, scowling at the laugh.

“You don’t say,” Rowan drawled sarcastically. “Pretty sure assassins don’t wear rubies day to day either.”

“It’s a garnet, actually, and it was my mother’s,” I replied coldly, brushing my fingers over the small gem in the shape of a rosebud that hung on the gold chain around my neck.

It was the only necklace she’d ever worn, a betrothal gift from my father, but she’d left it behind the day she disappeared. I’d put it on when I went to Varenheim in search of her, and it didn’t feel right not to wear it now.

My mother had no magic, but she knew about healing potions. I’d inherited her dark hair and pale skin and skill with alchemy, but the necklace felt more real somehow. I liked to imagine the necklace kept her with me, and I often caught myself toying with it while working on a particularlydifficult potion.

“Ah,” Rowan said, looking slightly abashed as he noted my use of the past tense, the sadness and hardness in my gaze. His eyes were soft as they met mine. “Apologies.”

“It’s fine,” I said, tone steely. “And this won’t work on me. Not that it’s any of your business, but I made a promise to my sister’s mate that we would retire from crime.”

I moved to leave the room, but Rowan was faster, blocking the door before me and gently catching my arm. I scowled, cursing his stupid, handsome face. Handsomeness should be for nice males only, not rude ones.

“What if the job were to stop a crime?” Rowan said, dropping his hand from my arm as he pinned me with a serious gaze. “To save multiple lives by taking only one. Like your job this morning to protect those girls.”

Curses. I shouldn’t have given him so many details. Why did I do that anyway? I didn’t know this male. He could march my secrets straight to Captain Everhart and make a pretty penny off our capture. I began to protest, but he interrupted me.

“Isolde,” Rowan said, making my heart thump a little oddly as he spoke my full name. “I need an assassin. Thebestassassin in the Elflands. I need someone to help me save lives, not just mine, but also my brother’s and countless people in Elandor.”

“And what is this job, exactly?” I asked, lowering my hackles slightly at the nugget of information he had finally doled out. Curse my soft heart, and his irritatingly appealing eyes as he lookedat me with both plea and challenge. “Why do you need thebestassassin in the Elflands?”

Rowan smiled grimly, his scarred eyebrow making him look suddenly wicked.