The man didn’t look a day over thirty. His pale face was cast in dark orange light that reflected in his deep-set eyes. The eyes studied Nathan and Arnold like a cat studies a mouse before it pounces. Exacting and hungry.

He wore simple clothing, utilitarian and similar to those of the men in the room just outside the door. There was very little remarkable about the man – at least visually, and yet, something about him set Nathan on edge. There was something unnatural about him and the room they were in.

Shadows were darker and deeper. Like pools of ink that gathered in the recesses and corners of the room. The flickering candlelight was suffocated, wavering as if on the verge of being strangled by the darkness. And it was so plain. A long, empty rectangular room with a chair at the other end, vaulted gray stone ceilings, no windows.

“Arnold,” the man said, his tone calm and even. Lifeless.

“Fallon,” Arnold replied, his tone anything but. Arnold moved to speak again, but Fallon held up a hand, silencing him.

Nathan didn’t like this. Why the closed room? What kind of a guild leader meets with men that most likely want to kill him without any sort of backup? It seemed overly foolish. Or worse, justifiably confident.

“I know why you are here,” Fallon said with a heavy sigh. “Believe me, I like this just as little as you do.”

Arnold lifted his chin, a bit of the tiredness appearing to flee from his body. “Good. Then bring David to me, and we will be going. I want to spend as little time back here as possible. It’ll be hard enough as it is to wash your stink from my clothes.”

Fallon frowned, pressing his lips together in a thin line. What little emotion had been present in his voice disappeared like the last rays of sunlight at dusk. It was replaced with a frigid coldness. “I cannot do that, Arnold.”

Nathan tensed. He felt wildly out of place here, like a lion treading water in the middle of the ocean. There was a history bulging just beneath the surface between Fallon and Arnold. They spoke like old friends that had fallen out of favor with one another. What was Nathan doing here?

“Why in the hells not?” Arnold asked, taking an aggressive step forward. Fallon did not react to the threat.

“Because he has slain those under my wing. What kind of leader would I be if I allowed that to happen with no repercussions? My men would lose all respect for me.” Fallon waved a hand in front of him, subtly shaking his head. “That boy has been a thorn in my side ever since his father died.”

Arnold clenched his fists at his side, his shoulders trembling. “This is how you’re going to repay Byron?” he asked. “By butchering his son as an example?”

“I have no need to repay Byron.”

“He saved you.”

“He made me this.” Fallon gestured down at his body with a disgusted hand. “He didn’t save me, he destroyed me.”

We shouldn’t be here. I should have insisted to Arnold that we come up with a better plan than ‘walk in and make demands,’ but here we are. Dammit, this is stupid. I hate having no control.

“We were brothers, Fallon,” Arnold took several more steps closer, only ten or so feet from Fallon. “David’s just hurt. He’s angry. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.” Arnold took a deep breath, staring right at Fallon. “Just… just let the boy go.”

Fallon looked away, not meeting Arnold’s gaze. His jaw clenched and unclenched several times. The room was still and quiet as the dull candlelight flickered gently along the base of the walls. Finally, Fallon turned back to meet Arnold’s gaze, eyes as cold as stones.

“If Byron really ever cared for me as you say he did,” Fallon chuckled. A cold, mirthless chuckle devoid of any warmth or sincerity. It sounded like he had learned how to laugh by reading a manual. “Then he should have given me the mercy of death. If what Byron did to me was out of love, then I love David a great deal.”

Arnold’s face bleached as he took a sharp intake of breath. “You’re lying.” His voice rumbled from his chest.

Fallon let a deep, almost genuine sounding sigh. He placed a bleached hand against his forehead, fingers splayed, eyes peering out from between them. “Alas, I am not.”

“Give us the boy, unharmed,” Nathan hissed. “And nobody else has to die.”

Fallon’s lifeless eyes narrowed, lips curling into a sneer as he regarded Nathan. “Die. An interesting word.” Fallon looked Nathan up and down, his frown deepening, mouth moving as if trying to unstick something from between his teeth. “Everyone throws it around as if they have any experience with the thing. We kill, and prey on, and take from those weaker than us. I’m sure that you have done the same, dog.”

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Another drop of lead.

“Killed? Taken from someone? I am not wrong for doing what is expected of me, am I? That is the natural way of the world, is it not?” Fallon said.

“You’re not natural,” said Arnold, interrupting Fallon. “And you’re a damned fool if you believe otherwise. Everything natural about you died decades ago.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Fallon said, lowering his brow, eyes smoldering.

Fallon paused, as if waiting for an answer. He looked from Nathan to Arnold. They stared back at him. Fallon cleared his throat, worked his mouth, and then cracked his neck. It echoed ominously in the dark room.

“You will understand eventually, Arnold. It took me some to get it too, as you know.”

“Don’t lecture me,” Arnold snarled. “I understand more than your twisted mind ever will.”

“I am not trying to lecture–”

“You are.” The light flickered across the deep creases in Arnold’s skin. It washed over the smooth curves of Fallon’s.

“Did you come in here thinking that you would just demand to walk out with the boy?” Fallon’s nostrils flared. Arnold faltered beside Nathan. “Because that is hubris. That is showing that you don’t really understand things as you say you do, Arnold.”

Nathan clenched his jaw. It was foolish to come here. Fallon was probably correct. Nathan’s flames had still not returned from his fight outside the manor. Even if they had, fighting their way out would be a snowflake's chance in hell.

Arnold swallowed a heavy gulp, muscles twitching in his face and arms. Nathan saw that Fallon watched him with a close gaze, as if ready for the older man to burst into action.

“Fine,” Arnold finally said after a time, his shoulder sagging under an invisible weight. “I know what can tip the scales.” Fallon leaned forward, a flash of greed passing through his eyes. “Bring me David and it’s yours.”

Fallon held Arnold’s gaze for a trembling moment. Nathan saw his chest rise in fall in sharp motions. His lips twitched into a grin and from this angle, Nathan could see the man’s teeth. They were sharp.

“You have it with you?”

Arnold held Fallon’s gaze. He breathed in, then out. “Yes.”

“Good,” Fallon finally said. “You do understand after all. Very well.”

What did that mean? Nathan flicked his eyes over to Arnold, but the man gave him no information. His gaze was fixated on Fallon, eyes stony and cold.

Nathan turned back to Fallon. He still got an uneasy feeling around him. Something was not quite right. Why had Fallon had them meet him in an empty room? Perhaps he had just been overly confident that they were no real threat to him, but Nathan didn’t believe that to be the case.

Soft footsteps echoed within the chamber as Fallon stalked toward the lone exit, passing between the two men, not even bothering to look at them. Nathan could’ve reached out and touched his shoulder, or pulled a blade and stabbed him.

Fallon reached the doorway. Nathan’s heart thumped loudly in his chest, but his muscles were calm and still. No trembling. It had taken him many years to be able to control his adrenaline. If Fallon desired it, he could say a word and they would likely be dead in minutes.

“Don’t do anything foolish,” Nathan hissed, hand on the hilt of his blade. As soon as he said it, he felt foolish himself. He was not in any position to be making threats.

“So melodramatic,” Fallon sighed, a patronizing smile plastered to his pale face.

The man turned the door handle and swung it open. Light poured in from the other side, blinding, and Nathan had to shield his eyes for a moment. Had it been that dark inside the room? Fallon took a small stumbling step backward, the veins on his neck bulging, before mustering his strength and continuing on through the doorway. Arnold followed behind them, not closing the door.

As soon as they stepped into the room, every member of the Night Hunt was on their feet. Raff stood in the crowd of thugs, holding a blade in his bandaged hand, looking sick. Their scarred faces peeked out from within hoods, scarred arms gripped bladed weapons. They waited with bated breath for Fallon’s next words.

And the damn man certainly made them wait. He relished in the tension, watching Arnold twitch and sweat, gulp nervously and look around for possible paths of escape. There were none.

They were surrounded. Over twenty to two. Not the best odds I’ve ever faced. Nathan grimaced, shifting his weight onto his back foot, watching the crowd tense. But not the worst either.

Fallon sucked his gums then smacked his lips. He turned and looked straight at Arnold. He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes, cold as the night sky, but without the inviting glimmer of starlight. Just black.

“Thank you, Arnold, for bringing the key here. Unfortunately, that means I no longer have a use for you.”

Nathan started judging the distances between the men closest to him, who he could kill fastest.

“Kill them.”

Shit.

But before anyone could even move, Raff’s blade stabbed through the skull of the man to his left. He then tore the weapon out and sheared through the neck of another man with a spray of crimson.

Several thugs cried out with a lurch of chaotic motion, not sure what was going on. Raff screamed, his face a mask of horror. Several men ran backward. One ran forward. He fell with the assassin’s blade through his chest before he even had the chance to yell.

76 EXP gained

What the hell is happening?

“Run,” Nathan yelled, turning to grab the tavern keeper by the arm and haul him out. If they could use the chaos to their advantage… But one look told him that wasn’t going to happen.

“No. Not without the boy.”