“I’ve bought the boy, but the mother I can do nothing for. Not yet. She is too well guarded by Yellow.”

The words of an elderly lady stumbling up the street with a cane almost startles me, but I control my expression into a smile. “May I escort you home, grandmother?”

‘She’ takes my arm, and I lead. “What do I owe?” I ask, the smile still plastered on my face.

“Kill Yellow. You’re the only one who has the power to unseat him. I’ll protect Frida.”

“If I have the opportunity, I will take it.”

“See that you make the opportunity. The Yellow is reaching beyond his own, dabbling in things he understands not.”

The old lady shakes me off with a gratuitous wave of her cane, disappearing into the crowd.

Jed emerges moments later, stumbling as if shoved from behind, his eyes on the dirt as he’s jostled by the crowd.

Most look at his bare feet and ragged clothes in suspicion, seeing a pickpocket and thief.

I quickly move to his side, touching his shoulder. He flinches, recoiling away from my hand, but then his light blue eyes look up with fear in the depths.

My heart clenches.

“R-Roland!” He throws himself at me, and I pick him up in a bear hug.

“You’re ok, little man. You’re going to be fine.”

“Barry? Ma?” he mumbles into my shirt, his entire body shaking.

“Barry is just fine. Your Ma is in the palace serving the princess. It’s the best we can hope for until I can come back for her.”

“We’re leaving?” he asks as I set his feet on the dirt.

I tug Jed along as I grasp his tunic and walk towards the street that will take us out of here.

“I’ve outstayed my welcome, for now. We must leave, and I know a certain someone who will be very happy to see you.” I smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes as I dart a look at the boy. He’s thin, and the captivity did a number on his soul. He needs his father and mother, not a big, broody brother. I hardly know how to help myself, much less two kids who were kidnapped and put through Sixth.

You’re more suited to this than you know. Follow your heart and your head, the small voice whispers in my head.

Does he even have a heart anymore? Cynic says, a smirk in his voice.

My eyes track the shadows.

I pull Barry into a darkened alley head, bending down on a knee to peek out my head, watching the assassins’ guild members stationed at the junction between the streets and the exit.

It seems I’ve well and truly bungled the mission, and Yellow knows it. Thank the Allfather Purple is watching Ma or she’d be dead by nightfall. For now, all I can do is get out, knowing in my mind it’s the right call. But in my heart I wish I could raze the castle and take Ma from it. But for now, I shall have to trust. A pesky word I’m still working on when it comes to the Allfather.

“Change of plans. We’re taking a side exit.” I bend down at my brothers brave nod, a genuine smile slightly tipping my lips. I squeeze his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Jed. Just a little longer, and you’ll be flying.”

His jaw drops. “F-f-flying?”

I let the mischief in my eyes show, and he grins along with me. “Y-you—“

“I’ll answer later. For now, let’s get out of here, eh?”

The streets darken around us, although the sun remains high in the sky.

It’s in the grungy way these back alleys feel, the rancid smells of rotten meat and decomposing materials clinging to nostrils. It’s in the way the people back here watch with weary or sharp eyes, depending on if they are a form huddled on the ground or a guild member smoking rush in a corner. I flash a wild snarl at one man who comes too close, and his look of raptor-like intensity quickly changes to one of fear. He puts his hands up, backing away and leaving me and Jed in peace. We reach the corner junction that dead ends at the wall.

There’s a door leading to a tunnel hidden in the rock face, one I hope Yellow has forgotten about.

“What do we have here?”

So much for Yellow forgetting. I push Jed behind me, his form trembling as he takes in the four men detaching from the shadows. This alley is about four or five horse lengths, the maneuverability good for me and the assassins—but in this instance, their ability to surround me is more in their favor than mine.

“Yellow would like your hide on a spit, Fang. Or perhaps a coat. I’ve always been impartial to a black fur cloak myself, but Master Yellow will have to decide.”

I use his jabbering to throw daggers coated in poison at the two assassins on the rooftops, posed to take me down with either arrows or darts. They both thunk into their targets’ meaty flesh, but only one falls from the one story roof.

The four assassins on the ground look from me to the body.

“Haven’t lost the touch, have you, old man?”

I chuckle. “Did you truly believe the six of you could take me?”

“There were seven,” Jed whispers.

I turn to glance at him. He points with his chin to a shadowed corner I missed.

A laugh comes from the corner. “Beaten by a boy.” A lady emerges from behind a crate of rotting apples. “It seems you’ve taught him well, Fang.” Her voice is sharp, but a lingering caress is hidden in its folds.

A shiver races up my spine, even as I speak with a face devoid of emotion, “It seems the new Red Master is indeed well chosen. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Roland. It was hard fought, but I am happy with the outcome. We must skip the pleasantries, I’m afraid. Turn your little self around and kill the princess and this won’t become any harder than it needs be.”

“You know I cannot.”

Her eyes flash golden, lips tipping down at the corners. “How I wish you would’ve chosen correctly. But so be it.”

She waves her hand at her dogs, and they attack.

I throw two daggers when the four come within three paces. One drops and another staggers and will be down before long.

The last two branch off to circle to either side, alternating attacks in a timed fashion learned early by the guild. They’re good, but not good enough.

I grasp the knife wielding hand of the one on my left, then sidestep and use his knife to pierce the chest of his companion. When the assassin still alive tries to stab me with his other knife, I knock it out of the way, grab his hooded head, and use my strength to send his head into my knee with a crunch. He drops, and I turn in time to catch the screaming arrow sent from the balcony above, the arrowhead brushing against my nose.

I debate throwing another knife, but the man on the balcony slumps down, and from here I hear his heart-rate slowly return to a resting state. He’s out.

“Me and you, Bloodfang. How I have waited for this.”

I ignore Jed’s gasp behind me, even as I know all my secrets are being bared before the worlds. Realizing my family will know my secrets before this is over hurts worse than being stabbed with silver.

The lady assassin draws two fans from her bodice. Don’t let the inane objects fool you. They are crafted from golden glass, the hardest substance known to this world, and are edged in sharp steel.

I step away from Jed, knowing I’ll need room to move. Two bastard swords drawn from beneath my cloak feel like old friends in my grasp.

“I’m honored your swords are shown for me, Fang. Let us dance.” She bows her head, and I bow in return, keeping my eyes on the treacherous woman the entire time.

She comes in with the grace of a dancer and the poise of a warrior. Her fans fly in a tempo known only to her, quick as vipers and sharp as a two-edged blade.

I duck, slash, and dodge. She sweeps her leg forward, and I lean back to dodge her heel-kick, a razor-sharp blade poised at the back of her foot thirsty for my blood. She always had her tricks.

I twirl my swords in a figure eight, blocking her from advancing inside my guard. I have greater reach, but as an Alpha herself, I’ll be hard pressed to match her speed. Plus, I haven’t had to fight this hard in many years, my skills growing slightly sloppy despite my continued practice. There's nothing like a skilled fighter as good or better than you to hone your skills—something I have lacked for many years.

Her foot darts under my blades, hooking my heel. I twist away, barely coming back around with time to stop one razor edged fan from slicing my eye and another from my kidney. Her eyes track to my lips, and I hold a shudder at bay. I never wanted her.

I head butt the bridge of her nose and she recoils.

I wish I could cover Jed’s ears from hearing the vile language spewing from her lips.

She takes her hands from her face, her eyes flashing golden and her nose gushing blood. I know she wanted me to attack while she was distracted. I’ve seen her gut a man with those fans when he got cocky and thought he’d won. “You will regret that, Fang.”

I gesture for her to come. It’s time to end this before reinforcements arrive.

She growls low in her throat, snapping forward with less grace and more speed. I block and parry, the fans a swirling whirlwind of death should I miss. She targets the vital points: head, throat, groin, kidney, gut. Even once going for the artery in my arm.

My swords become a blur, skills long thought lost emerging in moments between blinks to save my life. I catch her off guard with a kick to her knee while she strikes a cut on my forehead, missing my eye by a mere inch.

She limps back, and I rub the trail of blood, redirecting before it can get in my eye and impair my vision. It already begins to clot and heal if the itching is any indication.

I take the initiative, dropping my swords and throwing four knives in rapid succession. They bounce off her fans as she flares them in front of her face.

I throw one last knife, this one too low and too quick for her to dodge. It sinks into her knee and she growls out a curse.

She flings a fan at me, and I bend back, practically level with the ground, and snatch the whirlwind of a fan from the air before it can reach Jed behind me... her true target. It slices the side of my hand since I mistimed the catch and missed the handle by a hair’s breadth.

I come back up, using the fan to block the second thrown fan and I advance forward, knowing as soon as the poison reaches her heart, she’ll collapse. It won’t be enough to kill, just enough to impair for quite some time.

She smiles, her straight white teeth bloody from her broken nose. “Well done, Fang. There is a reason you were the Grey for as long as you were. Now you are the Red.” She holds up the emblem of what amounts to pure power in the guild, but I’m done with that.

“You keep it. I have no use for such things.”

“Then you will be the Red’s Master.” She kowtows before me, and I barely keep from gaping.

“What is your wish, Master?”

I can almost hear the smirk in her suggestive voice, and it sours my stomach. “Leave me alone and misdirect Yellow.” Might as well try.

“Your wish is my command.” She gets up and stumbles into a darkened alleyway, pulling a packet from her bodice, the smell of charcoal and a binder for the herbal remedy meets my nose, and I know the poison won’t affect her for much longer.

She pulls my knife out with a growl and throws it back into the alley at my feet before disappearing into the shadows. I meticulously pick up each knife and quickly wipe the blades off, sheathing them back under my cloak.

I glance at Jed. His eyes are wide and filled with fear. I bend down before his hunched and shivering form and he flinches away from me.

“W-who are y-you?” he whispers, his stuttering worse than before.

I ignore how the words tear into my soul. “I am your brother. I am Roland, who would do anything for you and our family. Please, if you question everything else, never question what I would give for you.”

He looks up, uncertainty and concern in his eyes. “You’re b-b-bleeding.”

I rub the spot above my eye, feeling the smooth skin where my body already healed the cut.

“I’m perfectly fine. Let’s get you to your brother, ok?”

He rises on shaky legs, and together we emerge on the other side of the wall, mostly unscathed but with a lot of concern on my brother's part I’m unsure I can help. I was Bloodfang... but people can change—right? I am forgiven and I'm working on forgiving myself. I hope Jed can see I’m not that person, not the assassin, anymore. And it’s my hope he can someday forgive me for keeping such a past from his family.