Perfect Shadow_ A Night Angel Novella - Brent Weeks [7]
* * *
“You’re the best I’ve ever had,” Gaelan said, after their fourth round of lovemaking.
“I get that a lot,” Gwinvere said. Teasing, but keeping her distance, her professionalism. They lay together in her bedchamber, naked, her head on his chest.
Not from men who are 680 years old.
He tweaked her nipple in punishment. She laughed, and he joined her.
“Someone followed me here,” Gaelan said. “One of your people?”
A half second of hesitation, a bit of tension in her body against him. A yes. But she didn’t try to lie. “He followed you last night, too. I wanted to see if you’d report to anyone that I was trying to hire you.”
“Mm-hmm. So what you want me to do is treasonous. And all you know is that I don’t have to report daily. Maybe I’m just on a long leash.” So he had done the right thing. Killing a servant of the Nine mightn’t have been the best way to start in a new city.
She traced designs idly on his chest, weighing her words. Finally, she said, “You’re a risk I’ll take. You’ve heard of wetboys?”
“Magic-using assassins?”
“There’s only a limited number of them at any one time. No one ever knows how many. But they all swear a magically binding oath of fealty to the Shinga. They can’t harm him or take contracts without his approval. Right now, there are only five wetboys. I want you to kill four of them.”
“And the fifth?”
“Will train you. He was the man who followed you last night and today. Ben Wrable.”
“Scarred Wrable?” Gaelan had heard the name, but not much else.
“He’s got a few…quirks.”
There was only one reason you’d get rid of all the Shinga’s assassins if you were already on the Nine. “And after I kill these wetboys? You want me to kill the Nine as well? The Shinga?”
She sat up, and despite his satiety, he couldn’t help but look at her body first, then her eyes. “No,” she said. “I’m taking care of them in other ways.”
“So you become Shinga, and I become a wetboy who hasn’t sworn the oath of obedience to you. After using me, won’t you find me too dangerous to keep around?”
A pause. “You’re a clear thinker, Gaelan Starfire. I like that. Most men would have expressed some shock at being asked to kill. Or some doubt about a woman running the Sa’kagé.”
I’ve known Irenaea Blochwei and Ihel Nooran. No doubts. “So?” he said instead.
“You’ll look into my history, of course. See how I’ve treated prostitutes who retire. Find out how I treated rivals who ended up working for me. See what place malice and vengeance hold in how I rule.”
“Tell me.” He would check, too, of course, but he liked to hear it from the woman herself.
“Vengeance only when my power is in question. Not for personal satisfaction. I don’t throw away tools lightly. Especially sharp ones. If I send you after four wetboys and you kill them all, and you learn the secrets of the fifth, how could I possibly threaten you? I would rather keep you.”
“A pet?”
“An ally. A lover—insofar as you don’t interfere with my work or who I bed.”
“You won’t ever ask me to take the magical oath?”
“I don’t think I’ll need to.” She smiled. Beautiful.
“That’s not what I asked,” Gaelan said.
She smiled more broadly, pleased to be matched. “I won’t ever ask or compel you to take any sort of oath of obedience.”
“So if I do this, what are you going to give me? Aside from piles of coin and the best lovemaking of my life? Which I take as a given.”
She smiled again, then said, “A network of spies who will find the man you’re looking for.”
A fist of stone wrapped around Gaelan’s chest. A long moment. He couldn’t breathe. “Very well,” he said finally. “Assuming everything is as you’ve said. I’ll check, and you have this Scarred Wrable meet me at my inn tomorrow night.”
She smiled. Trailed her fingers down the lines of his abs. Lower. “One more time?” she asked.
* * *
Scarred Wrable was a lanky man of Friaki ancestry. Round-cheeked and sallow-skinned, with hair like a sheaf of black wheat and the long, lean muscles of a martial artist. He was seated in Gaelan’s bed, in his locked room. The seals on the door were intact, the lock not obviously picked.