“Are you sure?” I asked.
Bastien’s body convulsed like he might vomit. He clamped a hand over his mouth and nodded.
“Wait for us outside,” I instructed. “Do not go far, and yell if anyone bothers you.” Once he was gone, I looked to Steifan. “What do you think?”
I asked it like I already knew what he should think, but in truth I hadn’t a clue.
While he looked a little green, Steifan maintained his composure. “I think that our only lead is dead, though I cannot tell the cause of death.”
I stood and took a step away from the corpse. “The patterns on his flesh would suggest strangling after a long period of physical violence. Yet the stains on the floor suggest a large amount of blood was spilled here.”
Steifan observed the darker stains on the dirt floor. “Do you think . . . Charlotte?”
I looked back down at the corpse, willing it to tell me its secrets. “Perhaps. Her neck wound wouldn’t have been enough for so much blood, and that would mean a vampire didn’t drink it. We should have checked the back of her body for other wounds.” I shook my head, feeling like the idiot that I was. “I don’t go into situations considering that mortals would actually fake a vampire kill. Perhaps I should start. Our carelessness has deprived us of answers.”
Bastien’s raised voice caught my ear. “It would be unwise of you to quarrel with my associates!”
I was rushing outside before I could even think about it. Once I saw the four men surrounding Bastien, and they saw me, the Seeing Sword echoed a warning. As if I couldn’t already tell that these criminals meant us harm.
Steifan was at my back, both of us yet to draw our swords.
Our would-be assailants took measure of us. They hardly merited the same in return, but the one with a crudely made blade was too close to Bastien. He could slit Bastien’s throat before we could reach him.
I took a few slow steps toward the group, and the men did not react. Good. If I could get close enough, I could eliminate the threat before Bastien could be harmed.
“We probably don’t want to kill them,” Steifan whispered behind me.
“I’m not an idiot,” I hissed, then more loudly asked, “What do you want?”
The man with the blade spun it like he knew how to use it. “Your swords, and perhaps a taste of your lovely flesh, witch.”
Bastien seemed frozen beside him, unsure of what to do. Two of the other men had swords riding their shoulders. Muscles corded down their tanned arms, with white scars standing in stark relief. The older of the pair had a wicked scar across one eye.
I took another step closer. “Well you can’t have my sword, and my flesh is out of the question, so I might just take a slice of yours instead.”
The man closest to Bastien laughed. “Come and get it, witch.”
I drew the Seeing Sword, but Steifan was right, we needed to avoid killing them. Wouldn’t do to have word spread that hunters were killing innocent people, because that’s exactly what witnesses would say if they figured out what we were.
The men eyed my sword hungrily. I heard Steifan’s sword hiss from its sheath.
With all eyes on our swords, I swiftly moved one hand from my hilt and drew a dagger from my belt, sending it sailing toward the man near Bastien.
It sliced across his arm, as intended, missing anything vital. But his momentary surprise gave me the time I needed to lunge forward and shove Bastien out of the way. As Bastien hit the dirt, I turned, lifting my sword to parry a strike from the scar-faced swordsman. I spun my sword in a small circle, catching his blade and tossing it aside.
He looked at me in shock, like he’d never had someone disarm him before, and maybe he hadn’t. He preyed on the weak. I would have loved to kill him.
He saw his own death in my eyes, and slowly backed away, hands raised.
Steifan had disarmed the other swordsman, and the man who had originally threatened Bastien clutched his bleeding arm, his blade nowhere to be seen. The fourth man, who had never shown a weapon, was backing away, on the edge of fleeing and leaving his partners behind.
With the situation fully assessed, I whipped my blade back toward the scar-faced swordsman, aiming the tip at his throat.
He lifted his hands again. “You win, no amount of coin is worth this.”
I edged my sword’s tip a little closer to his throat. The sword was quiet, he meant what he said, yet his words confused me. “What do you mean? What coin?”
His voice came out strained, “A stranger approached me with a lot of coin. Said to gather some of my boys and keep an eye out for a red-haired witch.”
I pressed my sword against his flesh. “Did the stranger tell you to kill me?”
He gulped, drawing a pinprick of blood on his throat. “Yes, and anyone with you. But it’s not worth the coin to me anymore, I swear it.”
“What did the stranger look like?”
He shook his head minutely. “Don’t know, it was dark, he wore a hood. He gave me half the coin upfront, and said he would find me with the rest once you were dead.”
I smiled wickedly, debating killing him regardless of the consequences. Anyone who would take coin to kill an innocent stranger deserved to die.
“Please don’t kill me,” he rasped.
“Lyss,” Steifan’s voice was low with warning.
I lowered my blade, my attention still on the man before me. “You will leave the city, and you will never look back. If I ever catch a glimpse of you again, you will become the hunted. For I am of the Helius Order. Hunting is what I do best.”
His bulging eyes and gaping jaw told me the stranger had not informed him we were hunters. Now that
