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  We travel across the courtyard and along the wide footpath between buildings. Far off to my right, a building that resembles a cathedral rises up above the others.

  The Cathedral is where Master Gareth’s personal quarters are located. It’s the place I need to infiltrate. If it was as easy as sneaking in there, I would have done it already, but the Cathedral is covered in protective spells. Only Superiors are allowed to enter. Anyone else can expect to be fried as soon as they attempt to step through the doors.

  We finally reach a building made of three levels with an outer staircase up one side and a balcony at the front of each level. A group of males gathers on the balcony of the second level to watch us pass. Mom once described this place to me and the hierarchy that exists in everything here. In terms of where we sleep, the second year Superiors are located on the lowest floor of this building; the new Superiors sleep on the middle floor; and the Novices—us—sleep at the top.

  I reach the top of the stairs and shuffle myself closest to the wall and furthest away from the balcony railing where I’m less conspicuous.

  Master Gareth swings the wide doors open to reveal a dormitory with a service elevator on the left and twelve beds at intervals on the right. They aren’t much more than roll-away cots. A tall, narrow locker stands beside each, along with a small shelf bearing a lamp.

  A single blanket has been folded at the base of each bed. It’s summer in Boston right now but winters are bitterly cold and I don’t see any heating. No doubt only the highest ranked Novices will get extra blankets. Everything is about status here.

  Given that there are twelve of us and twelve beds it means that I’ll be sleeping in here with the men. After the looks they gave me earlier, this is not exactly a safe situation for me.

  I sense someone’s eyes on me. Turning slightly, avoiding any big moves, I swallow a sigh of disgust to find Lutz Logan staring at my backside. The others won’t make a move without his say so. It doesn’t matter what Superior Lincoln says about keeping our hands to ourselves, Lutz is the one I have to worry about.

  Well, it’s bad that I’ll have to sleep with my eyes open, but at least I’ll have a bed.

  I turn back to the room to find Master Gareth suddenly grinning at me. He isn’t old. In fact, I know his exact age is forty. But he carries himself in a way that is distant and aloof. He is tall, broad-shouldered, clothed in a dark gray robe over a shirt and pants that are also gray. Somehow, the absence of color serves to accentuate his cold eyes and chiseled features rather than diminish them.

  The fact that he’s smiling right now makes me shudder. Nothing good could make this guy happy. I brace for whatever is coming next.

  As Ridley joins him, Gareth says, “Superior Ridley, please remove one of the beds. The lowest ranked Novice will sleep on the floor until she improves her rank.”

  Ridley frowns before he obeys. Even he seems to think this is a bit tough. “Yes, Master Gareth.”

  I totally jinxed myself. There is no bed for me after all.

  I tell myself: It’s okay, Hunter. Sleeping on the floor means you’re right beside the door with your back to the wall. It’s not a terrible place to be. I’ll have a quick getaway if I need it and I only have to watch for what’s in front of me.

  Ridley leaves the room and within moments, several men wearing janitorial uniforms swoop toward the nearest cot, roll up the thin mattress, fold the cot in half, and roll it into the service elevator. They don’t pay much attention to us. The service staff were once Novices who failed to become Superiors. They’re given the choice between returning to the world outside or staying on as staff. Personally, I’d prefer to leave.

  Master Gareth clasps his hands in front of him as the Novices crowd around. “Now, you will choose your beds in order of rank. Slade Baines first.”

  Slade eyes the bed closest to the door. That’s the one I would pick. It has the quickest and easiest escape route if something goes wrong. It’s potentially the coldest location though, especially if the wind whistles through the gap under the door. Still, I’d rather be cold than caught in a trap.

  He pauses, a thoughtful frown descending across his forehead. He takes on a respectful tone as he asks, “May I clarify, Master Gareth, that I can pick any bed?”

  Gareth gives him an indulgent smile. “You may.”

  Slade doesn’t miss a beat. “Then I choose Hunter’s bed.”

  Silence falls over the room.

  Uh, what? I didn’t hear that right.

  Master Gareth splutters, the Superiors appear startled, and I’m pretty sure my jaw hit the ground.

  Slade moves swiftly to my side, taller than I thought now that he’s standing so close to me, closer even than when we waited in line. I stand at five foot nine so I can hold my own around tall guys but Slade is a full head taller. Up close he smells like cinnamon, all earthy and warm. After the rain and sweat of the endurance test it’s unexpectedly pleasant and just a little bit distracting.

  He lowers his voice, speaking in a rapid murmur. “Pick one and do it fast.”

  I stare at him in confusion. Share a bed with him? There’s barely room for one person let alone two. Let alone… the sharing part. I fixate on the curve of his shoulders where his skin is still damp with rain, adjusting my gaze to the faint wash of bristles across his jaw and up to his eyes, searching for answers in his open gaze.

  Why is he doing this?

  Does Slade see me as a threat so he wants to keep me close? Or maybe he’s just like the other males and thinks he can take advantage? It surprises me to realize that I don’t want him to be that guy. After the way he frowned at Master Gareth earlier, I want to believe my instincts: that Slade has a conscience.

  I don’t have time to think through his possible motives or the consequences of accepting his current course of action. The only thought that keeps everything in perspective is that I can always return to the floor if I don’t like where this is going.

  I point at the bed closest to the door that Slade was studying before. “That one.”

  Slade remains at my side, keeping himself positioned between me and Master Gareth—an oddly protective gesture—as he inclines his head and says to Gareth, “That’s our bed.”

  Gareth’s smile slips and his eyes resemble cold stone, but at the last moment, he grins at Slade. It’s like watching a wolf draw its lips back over its teeth.

  There is no humor in his expression as he says, “Very well. If you want her all to yourself, that is your right as the highest-ranking candidate. She sleeps with you.”

  With a sharp incline of his head, Gareth barks at Ridley, “Oversee the remainder. I’ll be in my quarters.” He turns on his heel and stomps from the room. I guess he thought this would turn out differently and now there’s no fun in sticking around.

  Ridley calls out to Lutz Logan to choose next. Unsurprisingly, he picks the bed at the back of the room, furthest from Slade. The others follow one by one.

  My heart rate increases as Slade remains resolutely by my side, his big arm close enough to brush mine every time he inhales into his bare chest. I think I might be drowning in the warm scent of cinnamon and it’s progressed past a little distracting to a lot distracting, but I can’t move away from him without drawing attention.

  I hate that now I have time to question Slade’s motives for wanting me in the same bed. My acceptance of it was instinctive before, but now my distrust resurfaces.

  Trust has never come easily to me. Mom taught me to trust no-one. I need to make it clear to Slade that I will defend myself if he tries anything.

  When Ridley’s back is turned, I spin to Slade, hissing quietly, “If you touch me—”

  “I know. I heard you before.” His voice remains low and even. Calm. Surprisingly honest. “I will keep my hands, and every other part of me, to myself. I have no intention of disrespecting you.”

  His serious response takes the wind out of my rage.

  He continues, “I realize you don’t have to believe me, but I could use some friendly eyes watching my back. Code or no code, we’re both targets. I’d like to stay alive and I think you would too.”

  I quietly exhale. So his decision was tactical. Superior Ridley would be proud. It’s true that I need an ally among the Novices. But can I trust Slade? It could all be a ploy. He’s smart. He won’t underestimate my determination to excel during our training. He could pretend to be my friend right up to the end and then stake me in the back.

  But if it means a higher chance of getting into the Cathedral, it’s a chance I’m willing to take.

  Chapter Three

  Superior Ridley ushers us from the dorm and shows us the showers in the next building. Again, there are different facilities for the Novices and the new Superiors, but no separation for males and females. One look inside the communal shower room tells me I’m going to have to figure out an alternative way to stay clean. Stand in the rain perhaps?

  After that we wait in line for our new clothing. We had to give up everything we were wearing when we arrived so I brought nothing of value with me, not even my favorite pair of boots. All my belongings are safely tucked away in storage.

  We’ll train for seven months before we become Superiors. The first four months will be spent in the Realm. Then they’ll send us out on reconnaissance missions for two months, and in the final month, we’ll be given our first mission. If we pass all of those tests, we’ll become Superiors. That’s when I’ll be able to infiltrate the Cathedral. I plan to be out of here immediately after that.

  Slade leaves my side for the first time since visiting the dorm. As the highest-ranking candidate, he goes first into the fitting room and emerges with his arms full of clothing. It’s hard to see what he’s been given since it’s folded in his arms—shirt, pants, underwear probably. Everything is navy blue except the boots he carries, which are black.

  He slows as he passes me, quickly assessing my current status. Nobody has come near me since he went inside. He gives me a quick nod, which I return, before he heads to the bathroom to change. I continue to wait for my turn. I’ll have to get used to being last, but it has its advantages. For starters, there’s nobody glaring daggers at my back.

  To my surprise, Superior Ridley greets me inside the fitting room. I expected one of the lower staff to serve us.

  Without me asking, he explains, “I will teach you about weaponry, but that includes apparel. What you wear can save your life. That means it has to match your physique and how you use your body to fight.”

  He frowns at me, but not in anger, more in a sort of perplexed what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you way. “We don’t have any women’s clothing, so I’ve requested that you are allowed to wear the clothes you arrived in. But only while we get new ones made.”

  Shoot. Now I regret not wearing my favorite boots.

  He hands me my old clothing but asks me to stand still while he takes my measurements. As he wraps the measuring tape around my waist, he says, “Your mother was a hell of an assassin.”

  I treat his comment with suspicion. I have to treat everything with suspicion. I reassess his age. He could be old enough to have met her. Or he could be pretending to know her so I will let my guard down. “Did you train with her?”

  “She was a Novice in the year after me. Nobody messed with her. But that was mainly because the old Master protected her. You don’t have that in your favor.”

  I swallow, weighing up the wisdom of asking my next question. “What happened between her and Master Gareth?”

  That was one thing Mom never talked about: her relationships with the people here before she finished her training.

  Ridley laughs. “She kicked his butt. Multiple times. She was favored to be the first female Master Assassin. She would have been, if she hadn’t disappeared.”

  Masters change every twenty years. The Assassin’s Code sets out exactly how it happens, but essentially, the old Master picks his replacement from the intake of Novices in the nineteenth or twentieth year after he takes over. That’s my year or the year before me.

  Superior Ridley shrugs. “Six months later, we heard she’d had a child so that explained why she disappeared.”

  His tone isn’t accusing, just matter of fact. He tells me to turn around so he can measure from the base of my neck to my waist. “You’re in a tough year, Hunter. You’ll need to make a reputation for yourself quickly or the other trainees will annihilate you.”

  “They won’t touch me, Superior Ridley. Don’t worry about that.”

  “Well, I hope you’re right. You’ve got your mother’s looks. I’d hate to see you get messed up in this place.”

  I grit my teeth. “I’m looking forward to your class, Superior Ridley.”

  “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Don’t eat breakfast before you arrive. You’ll just bring it up again.”

  Sounds like his class will be tough then. I didn’t expect anything less. “Thank you, Superior Ridley.”

  I pick up my clothing, but before I leave, he places a firm hand on my shoulder. “Your Mom did me a favor once so… if you need help, let me know.”

  I look him in the eye and say ‘thanks,’ but there’s no way I’m taking him up on his offer. I can’t owe anyone anything. I can’t afford allegiances. I’m already uncertain about Slade Baines. I don’t need someone else to worry about.

  As fast as I can, I pull on my clothing—faded blue jeans and a marbled gray t-shirt, together with soft ankle boots. The boots are my least favorite ones but they’re comfortable. My underwear has mostly dried off now, but my hair is still damp and my long ponytail quickly flattens my shirt to my back between my shoulder blades.

  Because I was the last to be fitted, everyone else is gone to dinner and only Superior Lincoln, the poisons teacher, waits impatiently for me outside the fitting room. All he says is: “Dinner.”

  He strides away, expecting me to follow him. I race after him, trying to keep up with his long legs, finding myself hurrying at a half-jog beside him. While Superior Ridley is the oldest of the trainers, Lincoln appears the youngest, probably in his early thirties.

  Once again, we pass the Cathedral, but closer this time—close enough that I can sense the spells that have been cast around it. Even the Masters of the other two Factions can’t enter without an invitation. It’s frustrating being this close to it and not being able to go in, but even the space around it is protected by a multitude of magical alarms. I have to stick to my plan.

  We enter the food hall, where Lincoln leaves me with a clipped order. “Find a seat. Dinner will be brought to you.”

  There are maybe forty men, including the Novices, all seated at tables set out in rows. Master Gareth and the teachers dine at a table off to the side, separated from the rest.

  Silence descends as I hover in the entrance and quickly assess my options. It doesn’t help that a bunch of empty spots suddenly fill up before my eyes.

  Nobody wants to sit with me.

  I get it. They can’t afford to be seen fraternizing with the woman who wants to train in the Legion. Inwardly, I shake my head. Female assassins are more common in the other Factions, especially the Horde. The Legion has always been male-dominated. Which makes my choice to train here that much more unusual.

  I feel more confident in my own clothes so I stride down the middle aisle with my head held high.

  Lutz stands up and calls out to me, “Over here, sweetheart. You can sit on my lap.” He makes a crude gesture that indicates exactly what he would do if I sat on his lap.

  I smile sweetly and prowl toward his table, veering to the nearest surface to sweep up a steak knife. I test its weight and balance in my hand. The handle is heavy and off-balance to the right, but I can accommodate that. I don’t hide the fact that I have it, holding it in a fighter’s grip parallel with my body.

  He says, “Ooh, I’m scared. Watch it, little girl, or you might cut yourself.”

  From the long table at the side of the room, Master Gareth and the three teachers watch me but don’t intervene. I’m free to make my own choices in this place. If that includes cutting off Lutz’s crown jewels, then so be it. What the Superiors control are the consequences that I will face afterward.

  Only Superior Ridley looks concerned as he takes a seat, having arrived moments before I did. He warned me about getting messed up and I’m already throwing his advice to the wind.

  Lutz is smart enough to become concerned when I continue to advance toward him. His gaze flicks to the knife and my grip on it. We haven’t had combat class yet to size each other up for our existing skills but I’m pretty sure I look confident about my aim and abilities right now.

  I am seven paces away from him, preparing to pitch the knife right between his legs, when Slade steps into my path. My focus on Lutz was so intense that I didn’t see Slade nearby. Now he blocks my view, commanding my attention and forcing my focus to shift to him.

  I jolt to a stop. He’s wearing the navy clothing he was given—supple pants and a shirt that stretches over his chest and biceps, accentuating his muscles. The color enhances his eyes, making them appear an even more striking blue. The angles of his face are still unforgiving but deliberately relaxed, as if he realizes that any sudden movements on his part will send my reflexes into fight mode.

  His eyes meet mine, his voice a murmured warning. “You worked harder than anyone else to get here, Hunter. Don’t throw it away.”

  My knuckles turn white around my weapon. “I will slash the smile right off Lutz Logan’s face.”

  Slade suddenly grins, an action that chases away the shadows from his eyes and transforms his face from harsh to… mesmerizing. Nobody has the right to have lips that curve so tantalizingly… Somebody definitely needs to outlaw that.

  I’m glued to the spot as he says, “One day. Not today.”

  My eyes narrow to a frown as I shake myself out of the force of his smile and its disarming effect. For the first time, I wonder what has caused Slade to choose an assassin’s life. Lutz’s reasons are obvious—he’s an open book who loves power over others—but Slade has already exhibited way more calm and control than I’d expect from a Novice. I suppress a shiver as I realize that actually makes Slade more dangerous. He’s hiding his true self, controlling his true self. I’m not sure how afraid I should be of who he is underneath.