By Grace Alone (The Death Dealer Book 2) (17 page)

She rested her hands on his shoulders. “Be at hand and I will call you when I need you.”

Fifteen

Grace went to sleep for a few hours, or at least she tried to. She tossed and turned, escaping bad dreams that she couldn’t remember when she woke. Jack finally got her up after the hour was called for midnight. She lit a candle and readied herself. Jack had put her Death Dealer garb on the desk for her while she slept.

They had moved beyond the point of modesty and, though she wasn’t embarrassed by changing before him, the idea of sharing the intimacy of such a commonplace activity didn’t feel right yet.

“Cover your eyes.”

“If you insist,” he sighed. Jack faced the wall. “You only have a few hours before dawn. Marcus will be up tonight gathering a force.”

“I know.” Grace put on trousers under her dress. “I’m going to make a stop to see him first.”

“Is that really wise? He isn’t exactly pleased with you.”

“And I’m not pleased with him.” She pulled her dress up over her head and ran a hand over her hair to smooth it back down. She bound her breasts and slipped into her shirt.

“It’s too dangerous for you to go there alone.”

“Glad you think so. I need you to go with me. I’ll explain why on the way.”

“Oh, good.” The sarcasm in his voice cut through the air like a knife.

Grace looked over at Jack to see his arms move up to cross over his chest.
Let him be angry about it
, she thought.

“You can turn around now.”

She picked up her leather jerkin. It felt unbelievably heavy in her hands tonight. Still, she put it on and allowed Jack to straighten it, and then she tucked her hair into her shirt. It kept the noticeable bump of a bun or ponytail from showing under the hood, but it made everything hot and itchy. She wiggled in her garb, unable to do anything but live with the discomfort. She tucked her knives into her belt, including a fine dagger. It had a dragon head hilt with rubies set as the eyes and script etched into the blade. Jack had given it to her shortly after they met. It was the first dagger she trained with, and it felt the most natural in her hand. She’d need all the help she could get against the superior fighting skills of Harris.

Under all the layers of black, there was the unmistakable glint of gold. Grace touched the necklace, comforted by her patron goddess’s symbol. “Do you think you’ll be able to make it to Marcus undetected?” Jack asked cautiously.

“I can take the alleys after I explain my plan, and then I’ll meet you at his home. He’ll be there making his plans, since Jim barred him from the Angel.” She grabbed the hood, ready to put it on, when Jack held her hand on the desk.

His free hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him. He pressed his lips against hers and she let her free hand touch his face, glad to have him in her confidence. Glad to have him helping. He broke the kiss, but the feel of it lingered on her lips.

“I couldn’t let you go just yet.” Now he took her hood and gently placed it over her head, straightening it so only her eyes were visible. He took her face in his hands and kissed the forehead of the mask. She felt the heat of his lips through the fabric.

“We’ll sneak out the back and discuss,” she finally said. She couldn’t wait any longer. Still, she hugged him quickly before they left.

~*~*~

Marcus already had things in motion. It had been many long years since anyone dared to challenge the Thieves’ Guild, and he wouldn’t be unseated by some righteous brat. At dawn they’d swarm the Serenity Place guardhouse, and the next move would be up to the guards. He stayed awake long into the night, thinking.

He wasn’t too startled by the knock at his door, as his men had been coming and going all night. But seeing Jack Anders there
was
a surprise. At one time he was ready to gut the man for the pain he caused Grace, but now with Grace the way she was, he no longer cared. Still, he stepped outside rather than let the man into his house.

“Master Anders, to what do I owe this unscheduled visit?”

“I’m not deaf to the things that happen in this city. I suppose you know about the call for help from the King’s army?”

“I believe it’s merely a bluff of the Guard, but I am very much aware. Have you only come to give me common knowledge?”

“No, I came to help a friend.”

Grace might have been a cat in a past life. She didn’t make any sound as she dropped onto Marcus before he could fully react to what Jack said. With the handle of her dagger, she hit him in the back of the head. He went down face first, landing near Jack’s feet.

She bent down and rolled him over with some effort. “He’s alive.”

“Then let’s run before Thom comes to investigate.” They weren’t sure Thom was there, but wherever Marcus was, Thom was normally close at hand.

If nothing else prompted Marcus to say Grace had broken her oath to him, this certainly would. The bump on his head wouldn’t stop Marcus but it would slow him down a bit, which was what was intended. It would give Grace time to get to Harris and make his public capture, thereby guaranteeing Ridley’s release and slowing the descent into chaos. That was her plan, at least.

Grace again took to the alleys, running along back to the docks. Jack moved at a slower pace, working to not arouse any suspicion. He knew where she was bound. They would meet there soon enough.

~*~*~

Grace’s progress was halted as she cut through the city to the docks. She saw a few unsavory men lurking about, but that didn’t come as a shock to her. A summons had gone out to all corners to bring men to Marcus’s aid, although there hadn’t been a call for the army in ages. What did surprise her was Captain Ericson. He stood alone, at the entrance to the alley she was trying to leave. He was waiting for her.

“I had a man posted by Marcus’s,” he said, explaining himself before Grace had to ask.

Stupid girl,
she cursed herself silently. The Guard already knew there was going to be trouble. Why didn’t it occur to her that they’d have a man watching Marcus?

“You dropped your ally, and yet you ran from our meeting.”

“I don’t make it a habit of being thrown into a cell. You were going to lock me up unless I agreed to help you.”

Ericson chuckled, and for the first time Grace noticed the sword he held. The steel caught the lamplight behind him when he shifted his position. She realized it was a mistake to have left hers at Jack’s. Ericson wouldn’t stand a chance if she carried a sword, but at the moment she was armed with only knives. She could throw them and lose valuable weapons, or she could try to duel with them. Either way did not entice her.

“This isn’t a fair fight, captain,” she remarked.

The third option was to run back the way she came, but she’d been followed this far. There could already be someone lying in wait to catch her retreating.

“It doesn’t have to be a fight,” he said.

“No, it doesn’t. Neither does this business with Marcus.”

“You can’t possibly be siding with him!” Ericson laughed without humor. “You dropped the scoundrel on his doorstep!”

The captain took a few steps forward and Grace took a few back. No one had come up to block her retreat yet, so the option was still somewhat open.

“I’m not siding with anyone. I’m trying to stop the madness you foolish, prideful men put into motion.”

Ericson advanced faster now. Instead of step once, stop, he took three steps before a brief, very brief pause.

“I can’t let you obstruct justice,” he said, making his third step-stop. He was close enough now that if he chose to thrust with his sword, he could slice her clothes. Grace hadn’t moved an inch. She didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing she was afraid.

“Do you plan to kill me?”

“The Death Dealer won’t die. No, too many people look up to that hood. I won’t suffer a Dealer who isn’t on my side, though.” Ericson stayed in position, unmoving. “The people respond to the Dealer; respond to the idea that someone watches over them when the Guard and the King do not. No, I will not kill the Death Dealer, but
you
, on the other hand, are disposable.”

Grace saw then that he’d construct his own Death Dealer. He would take a young, fit guard and force it on him. Grace was faceless to him. What use was she? She wouldn’t even bend a little to his rules.

“I don’t want anyone to be hurt,” she said, suddenly breathless. Ericson was too close. “You both can’t have Harris.”

Ericson wanted a safe city. While the ideal meant good things for Glenbard, the problem was that he meant to sacrifice lives and create chaos to bring about that order. In his eyes, there could be no peace without blood.

“You’re a smart man,” she said and finally took a step back. “But why do you feel the need to wipe out and sacrifice men to have what you want? Work with the Guild to bring in Harris.”

He laughed again, the same mirthless laugh as before, and Grace knew they were done with the talking portion of the evening. She jumped back a step. Knowing he couldn’t allow her to escape, he lunged toward her. Grace used the opportunity to rush forward, and she was able to catch him under the sword arm. Using all her weight and momentum, she drove herself into his midsection, one arm firmly in the armpit of his sword arm.

She landed on top of him and the sword fell with a thud some feet away. He flailed about. Grace got off of him, making sure to step hard across his wrist as she went. She bent quickly to grab his sword while he lurched upwards.

“Come back here!” he roared. The whistle all guards carried to signal trouble trilled loudly behind her.

She bolted out of the alley where four guardsmen already waited; five, if Ericson was to be counted among them.
Stupid!
her mind scolded. She should have run back the way she came. The only upside for her was the sword she now had.

She could never hope to fight them all. They advanced fast, closing a circle around her. The lamplight didn’t make things any easier to see, and her hood provided her with plenty of blind spots.

Two of the guards were heavier, round from good food, while the other two were leaner with long legs. She charged the two fat guards. She used her elbow to smack the first one in the face and drove the pommel of the sword into the second one’s gut. She didn’t stop to assess the damage. They’d live; they might just be winded and maybe suffer a broken nose as a result.

Grace ran on with screams of pursuit and whistles following her.

~*~*~

Marcus came to on the floor of the kitchen. A very concerned looking Thom had put his head on a pillow. Anger filled the king’s limbs. “Damn him!”

He tried to get up but Thom pushed him back down. “What happened?” His cool fingers brushed against Marcus's forehead, providing momentary relief from the ache.

“I was out rallying the men, and when I came back you were out cold on the floor.”

“Let me up, fool!” Marcus said angrily and pushed away from his man. His head ached, and when he felt around his skull he came across a good sized bump. It wasn’t an open wound, but it would smart for a while. “Anders…he tricked me.”

Marcus got to his feet and sat down in a kitchen chair. As he was getting settled, Thom poured him some tea. “That little minx was waiting to strike me down while Anders distracted me. How long have I been out?”

“I just arrived about fifteen minutes ago, so I can’t say how long you were there.”

“What hour did the guard last call?”

“Two.”

Damn that girl! Marcus was unconscious for far too long. Grace had wanted to slow his progress and she did a fair job of it, too. “How do things fare in the rest of the city?”

“Shaky. The men think the Death Dealer will side with the guards. Some will need you to coax them
gently
into action.” Thom smiled at his joke. “But I don’t think you should rouse yourself without seeing a healer.”

Marcus could have screamed until the fury subsided, if he thought it would ever subside. Grace! She was against him from the beginning of this whole mess.

Old Wulfric burst into the house. Remembering belatedly that this was his professed king, he bowed to Marcus. His face was covered in sweat and his shirt was open, revealing the sweaty, hair-covered chest and belly beneath.

“What trouble is there now?” Marcus yelled. The sound of his own voice bouncing around made his head hurt worse. He cradled his head and put it between his knees.

“The guards are chasing the Death Dealer, Your Majesty!”

Marcus’s body stiffened and he slowly rose his head up. “What did you say?”

“I was, uh, kissin’ my wife good-bye and we heard a great ruckus with whistles and shouting. I looked outside and saw a figure clad in black, runnin’ away. That Captain Ericson means to kill our ally!”

The men loved the Death Dealer, but it wouldn’t do for Marcus to help Grace. She had made her position clear. But Marcus couldn’t renounce her in front of Wulfric. He needed the Guild to believe the Dealer was still on their side. He needed to make some sort of show.

“Wulfric, take me to a healer. Thom, go help our ally.”

Bind her in a sack if you need to. Just get her out of the way
, Marcus thought.