Assassin's Curse (6 page)

Moments later, the dim glow of the candle finally went dark and Jeda moved to the edge of the roof for a final check.
 
He took the stairs down into the alleyway.
 
After checking both ends of the alley for any wayward witnesses, he began to scale the outside of the building under his target’s window.
 
The ledges were slick and, after a few slips during the treacherous climb, he successfully reached the window.
 
He perched on the small ledge of the window and listened carefully for any telltale sounds from inside the room.
 

Hearing nothing, Jeda moved the cloth shade aside and climbed through.
 
The room was pitch-dark and he crouched for a moment while his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
 
As his pupils dilated, he began to make out the silhouettes of a bed, a crib, and a chest of drawers.
 
There was little else in the room but a single door leading out to the hallway.
 
Jeda slid one of his throwing knives out of its sheath and crept forward toward the bed.
 
With the first step he took, the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up and he instantly stopped in his tracks.
 
His senses screamed something was wrong.

“I see they finally sent someone,” a disembodied voice spoke from the direction of the bed.
 
“It’s too bad they didn’t send someone better equipped for the job.”

In a flash of pure instinct, Jeda ducked and rolled to his left as a flash of brilliant light exploded where he had been standing moments before.
 
The attack clipped him as he dove and he felt an intense flare of pain in his right side.
 
The elemental blast blinded him, but in one fluid motion he came out of his roll and threw his knife in the direction of the voice.
 
A slight grunt confirmed that he had hit something.
 
He tried to duck and roll again to avoid the next attack, but he found the most unimaginable thing had happened.
 
His body refused to obey and he crumpled down in a heap.
 

Shit, this can’t be good,
he thought as the darkness of unconsciousness enveloped him.

Miriam sat still on the edge of her bed.
 
She couldn’t imagine how the assassin had been able to throw the knife at her after being hit by her elemental blast.
 
She probed the wound and was shocked he had been able to hit her with such lethal accuracy.
 
She concentrated slightly to stem the flow of blood, but looking down at where the knife had entered her abdomen she knew that she couldn’t stop the bleeding for long.
 
That bastard had effectively killed her.
 

Well, at least I killed him as well
, she thought, looking at the heap on the floor in front of her.
 

She had planned for this eventuality, knowing she would be hunted, but she had thought she would prevail against the initial attacks.
 
Now that this had happened, her plans would have to change.
 
She had to stay alive long enough to get the girls somewhere safe and she sadly realized where that one place would be.
 
The one place near enough that would afford the safety and guidance the girls needed.
 
The one place she promised Tommy that she would never send them; the witch’s coven at Constantine.
 

I’m so sorry, Tommy.
 
I have no choice.

Miriam moaned in pain, pulling herself up from the bed.
 
She nearly fell when she reached for the crib where the two girls were sleeping.
 
She hung her head down for a moment, trying to gather her strength for her last task in this world.
 

“Argh.”

Her head whipped around at the sound behind her and she readied herself for another attack.
 
She stood transfixed, ready to attack when she realized the moan came from the fallen assassin.
 
As she was about to strike, a shaft of moonlight pierced the window and shone down on the assassin’s face.
 

Miriam inhaled sharply.
 
“Tommy,” she cried, “is that you?”

Frantic thoughts whirled through her mind as she stumbled over to the downed man.
 
She fell to his side and cupped his face in her hands.
 
“Tommy, oh gods, it is you.
 
What have I done?”

Jeda groaned again, shifting slightly on the floor.
 
His movement allowed Miriam the chance to notice the subtle differences in his face and body from that of her beloved Tomas.
 

How can this be
?
she
thought.
 
He looks just like him.

She released his face and struggled to catch her breath.
 
The floorboards echoed with a hollow thud as the look-alike’s head smacked against the wooden boards.
 
He groaned with pain as he regained consciousness.
 

“Who are you?” Miriam demanded as soon as she saw him open an eye.
 

Jeda tried to move and was shocked that his body still refused to respond.
 
The witch’s attack had effectively paralyzed him from the neck down.
 
All he could do was watch while she looked at him, studying him as if he were a cat’s trophy dragged in from the alley.
 
He said nothing to her, knowing his life was forfeit.
 
He would at least die with his honor intact, the silent honor of a guild assassin.

“I asked you a question,” she demanded, “and I won’t ask again.”

Jeda lay unmoving, staring at her, stoically waiting for the end.

“Your life is mine,” Miriam said, shaking her head, still amazed that he had survived her initial attack, “though you won’t remain alive for long unless you start talking.”

Jeda felt tingling in his fingers and realized the feeling was slowly returning to the rest of his body.
 
It should not be long before he could move again.
 
He simply had to play along with the crazy witch and wait for another opportunity to finish what he came here to do.
 

“My name is Jeda.”

“Jeda,” Miriam said thoughtfully, something in the name sparking an old memory.

She searched back through the years of her memory, trying desperately to put the pieces of the puzzle together through her pain.
 
Why did this killer look like Tomas?
 
Where did he come from?
 
Who was his family?
 
After a few moments, she thought there could only be one reason for this strange man, who looked so much like Tommy, and whom she felt she somehow knew, to be laying in front of her.
 
It gave her an idea for a change to her plans, but she had to be sure before she acted.
 
She grimaced and clutched her stomach, trying to stem the flow of blood.
 

“Do you know why you were hired to kill me?” she asked.

Jeda looked at his knife sticking in her and judged from the angle that the wound was fatal and she did not have long to live.
 
All he need do was wait.

“We don’t ask for reasons when we accept assignments,” Jeda replied, “just payment.”

This gave Miriam a moment’s pause.
 
She looked at Jeda again and saw him for what he was, a cold-blooded killer with no feelings or remorse.
 
How could she think to use this heartless bastard in her plans?
  

“You should be getting feelings back in your arms and legs about now, but know that I could kill you before you could move an inch.
 
For that matter, I could have killed you while you lay unconsciousness.”

Though Jeda realized what the witch said was true, he still played along.
 
“Why didn’t you?”

The woman scrutinized him again and moved closer to him.
 
He cringed as she laid her bloody hands on his head, believing this was the start to a painful end.
 
Instead, he felt an odd sensation penetrating his mind that was not exactly painful, but nothing remotely comfortable either.
 
Jeda wondered if this was what it felt like to die.
 
After a few moments, Miriam released him and sat back.
    

“I knew a little boy named Jeda when I was young.
 
He was my cousin and his father’s name was Jacob.
 
We all called him Uncle Jake for short.”

Jeda refused to acknowledge the comment, but it shocked him nonetheless.
 
His earliest memory of his childhood was of his loving father Jake.
 
His father had died in a terrible fire, leaving Jeda orphaned and bitter at a very young age.
 
It took a moment before he realized what Miriam had done.
 
“You read my thoughts.”

Miriam laughed at him through her pain.
 
“How can you be an assassin and yet be so stupid?
 
Nobody can
read
thoughts.
 
Even the most powerful of witches can only get a general sense of the person she is touching.
 
No Jeda, I wasn’t reading your thoughts, but I was looking for something inside you, something that your mother would have left with you: her witch’s bond.”

“My mother died giving birth to me,” Jeda retorted.
 
“I never knew her or whatever this bond is you’re talking about.”

“And yet, you still know her,” Miriam said, seeing the truth of it in his eyes, “though you never met her, you instinctively know what she felt like.
 
She died giving you birth and her bond.
 
The feelings you have when you think of her is what remains of her bond.
 
That is what I was looking for and found when I touched you.
 
I don’t know how you survived the fire that killed your father or what happened to you over the years, but you are that little boy I knew long ago.
 
You are my little cousin Jeda and my girls and I need your help.”

Jeda chuckled at the absurdity of her statement.
 
“Cousin or not, I came here to kill you, not help you,” he replied, not believing a word that this mad woman was saying.
 

“Oh, you’ve accomplished that; I don’t have long to live.
 
But don’t you find it strange that you, my cousin, were assigned to kill me at the same time that I needed someone I could trust to get my babies to safety?
 
I don’t believe in coincidence; I believe in fate.”

Jeda watched Miriam struggle to her feet and drag the crib containing her girls over next to him.
 
He tried to move while her attention was diverted, but he remained paralyzed from her blast.
 

“What are you doing?” Jeda asked.
 
“I didn’t come here to hurt the babies.
 
I am to deliver them to a noble house.”

Miriam shot Jeda a cold stare.
 
“Let me guess, The House of Berkshire.
 
That’s not exactly the type of safety I had in mind.”

“How did you know which house I was talking about?” Jeda asked.
 
Only he and the masters knew the details of his assignment.
 
No one else knew he was to deliver the children to the Countess of Berkshire.

“That bitch,” Miriam replied, adjusting the crib in a position that was directly beside Jeda.
 
“She thinks I killed her son, Tommy, but I didn’t.
 
He was the love of my life and my fiancé.
 
He’s the one you resemble.
 
You could be his twin brother.”

Jeda’s senses immediately went on high alert when he felt something stirring in the air.
 
Miriam reached down and grabbed his hand.
 
He struggled against her touch but to no avail.

“I don’t know if this will work, but I must try.
 
Please, to everything sacred, I pray to the gods to help me now,” Miriam whispered.

Miriam had no idea what transferring her bond to Jeda would do, especially with his mother’s bond already there.
 
His mother’s bond should have dissipated long ago, but it was still there, deeply recessed in his mind.
 
The other bond was buried so deep that it gave her a small hope for success and she reached into the crib, holding each of the infant’s hands in hers, forming a continuous link between them all.
 

“Release me at once.
 
I don’t want your filthy magic on me.”
 
Jeda tried to jerk his hand free again, but the witch held him tight.
 
Whatever Miriam was planning on doing, he had no choice but to endure it.
 
His heart pounded in his chest while he waited to see what would happen next.
 
A surreal feeling enveloped
him
as his entire world became the face of the witch that was speaking.

Miriam groaned in agony.
 
Rivulets of sweat rolled down her face, but she was out of options.
 
It was either bond with Jeda, or leave her daughters alone in the world.
 
She took a deep breath and began the chant that would bind this stranger to her precious twins.