After stalking through a few more alleys, I paused to gesture to Geep, who was flitting about, stuffing himself on the insects buzzing over my head. He reluctantly returned to his pocket, although I felt him burp as he curled up.
 “You just stay there,” I scolded, before returning to my task. As I walked, I kept my mind open for more trouble, but I sensed the shadow-dwellers moving away from me. Mercy did occasionally have fringe benefits. Word of who and what I was had already spread among them. Which meant that I wasn’t reliant on just the disguising night to accomplish my task unseen.
 As I walked, my mind roamed restlessly. What was it about me and children? The younglings had effectively derailed my rage. Without it, I could not properly unleash what I’d been trained to do.
Only Ryn knew how much I relied on my anger to do what I needed to. All the training in the world could not take its place. Perhaps there was a reason that the Guild didn’t usually train females.
My brother dismissed the Guild’s preferences for male Dragon shifters as immaterial, and he believed that I could overcome any female ‘silliness’ by simply training myself not to care. As if being female was just a state of mind.
For him, maybe it was. To most, Ryn was everything the Guild trained him to be—a cold-hearted, calculating killer. There were times that I thought the only thing that kept my brother from truly becoming that, was me.
He’d tell me that guild operatives had a reputation for a reason—in this world, fear equated to respect. And respect was what kept the Guild in business.
I understood that. Just like I understood that true assassins didn’t care if children were afraid of them. In fact, many relished that kind of reaction.
It just wasn’t who I wanted to be.
Not that I had a choice. Not yet, anyway. My hand rose to what hung around my neck. It was a symbol of freedom, of being able to live without always looking over my shoulder.
I paused to search for anyone watching, and when I confirmed that I was alone, I went up. Shunning the decrepit ladder, I used my now-discrete talons to penetrate directly into the stone, and climb. Once up, the roofs in this region were close enough together that I could jump between them—I used my wings to assist with a few, but I avoided a full transformation. Full-sized Dragons were hard to hide. 
Skulking would have been more difficult in those realms that had mechanical eyes in the sky and on every building. We’d received training to deal with that as well, but very few of the underworld-ruled realms possessed any kind of technology.
In these places, you just had to worry about real eyes.
Nearby was a crumbling stone structure that was old even by Jankine’s standards. Its flat roof was a mishmash of aged ventilation equipment and storage sheds. I lurked in the shadows of a chimney for long enough to ensure that no one had seen me. The sky was already beginning to lighten toward dawn—I was getting this done just in time.
When I touched the scales along my ribs, they retracted, dropping a metal ring with two keys into my hand. The first one unlocked a small shed filled with ancient tools, that without regular cleaning would have been covered in dust and cobwebs. Not that my twin or I ever used them—but if anyone broke in here, we didn’t want a blatant trail pointing to our stash hidden among dusty tools.
A cloud of the cursed insects followed me into the shed, so I once more released Geep from his pocket. The imagery I received from him always calmed me—it was focused on filling his stomach. Being born to hunt in the darkness, he used high-pitched sounds to expertly navigate the crowded shed. Like most animals, his thoughts were pure—he didn’t think one thing, and do another.
A quality I treasured.
The Cloudhopper dropped to hover in front of me, and uttered his signature “cheeps” that sounded enough like “geeps” to have given him his name. I smiled at him, before I bent to move a shovel and a rake. Buried behind them was a small trunk. I’d bolted it down, and the lock on it was as antiquated as everything else.
The second key opened it, revealing a tray of small, precision hand tools. I lifted it out and set it aside, before sliding my fingers along the trunk itself. As I did so, the tip of my tongue protruded from the corner of my mouth.
Ryn always poked fun at my silly tongue. I’d done that since I was a youngling, and never been able to break myself of it.
I pulled it in again as I pressed a sequence of the panels that activated the release, and the bottom popped upward. My brother had never admitted where he’d acquired the ancient puzzle box, and I eventually decided that I didn’t want to know.
Sometimes it was better that way.
The sparkling collection revealed was, as yet, scant. Only a handful of gems and coins my brother and I had pilfered during our training missions. I removed the crystal from around my neck and added it to our stash. I’d stolen it on my training mission earlier that day—thanks to the assassin running the operation, the owner was no longer around to appreciate it.
It lay, glittering, among the scattering of valuables. A perfect oval, where most were rectangular, but it wasn’t just the shape that was unusual. Red was a rare color, and as it was not yet embued with power, the crystal had substantial value. But it wasn’t nearly enough.
Would we ever be able to buy our way out? Freedom was something both my brother and I only dreamed of. Although we seemed free to strut the alleys and fly the skies, the trackers embedded deep in our arms were as effective as collars and leashes.
The Guild revolved around money. They charged a small fortune for their assassins’ services. Their greed was the only reason it was even possible to buy your way out. To do it for both of us, though—it was going to take a long time to amass that much wealth.
But as my brother insisted, it was the only way to be truly free from the Guild.
***
The meager stipend the Black Guild granted to us enabled Ryn and me to rent adjoining rooms in an ancient hovel.
Ryn was top-tier, one of the best of the students approaching full operative status. Top tier students and operatives were granted special bonuses, including currency.
It rescued me and him from life in the barracks. As the handful of other female recruits had dwindled to one, other than me, we were thrown in with the males. The other remaining Dragona was more than willing to bed hop with the boys. But for me, having visual insights into the sex-related ramblings of the male mind was a distinct turn off. I did NOT appreciate being compared to their latest brothel conquest.
It was an opinion that I often had to defend with talons. More than one male in the barracks bore the scars of my highly offended wrath.
Those that Ryn went after suffered more than just scars.
My brother invented the window entry to my room after we found someone lying in wait for my prickly favors.
My twin had been as ice-cold angry as I’d ever seen him, but what I gleaned from my invader showed he’d been dared to do it. I managed to talk Ryn down, stating that a maiming would act as a warning to others--there were worse things than dying—and that we didn’t mess around.
At this rate, the Guild breeding program, secretive as it was, was becoming compromised. But I’d been right—no one else dared try anything.
My brother and I were a formidable team.
As I prowled along the neighboring roof, I eased myself to a spot where I could glance over the parapet.
And there he was. The older Dragon. Not lounging this time, he seemed agitated, pacing back and forth in front of our building. As I watched, the younger one appeared from inside, and spoke to him, before heading off up the street.
Perhaps my instincts about them had been bang on. But why were they watching me? I tried, again, to use my talent on them. All I gleaned were rapid-fire images of their surroundings, along with a sense of concern. Not for the first time, I wished for the ability to actually read minds.
I skulked my way over to the right roof, and moved to the side that faced the back alley. I scanned both the rooftops and the alley below me for either my two special cases, or anyone else.
There were some locals walking the street beyond, but a quick scan of their minds indicated that their focus was elsewhere. So I descended partway down an ancient ladder.
 At this point, Ryn usually used talon holes pierced in the stone to swing over to his window. I had another approach—I utilized my second talent. The one that Ryn and I took great pains to keep hidden from those who owned us.
I reached within and pushed my tail free from my human body.
It wasn’t my usual Dragon tail. It was much smaller, thin and whippy, with only a small spike at the tip. I enhanced the muscle attachments to my spine before I reached to coil the end around the heavy spike I’d driven in above my windowsill.
Then I let go of the ladder, suspending my entire weight from my tail as I swung over to the window.
The tail trick was my favorite. This talent for partial shifts was one that had developed when I’d reached adolescence. My ever helpful and informed brother had told me that some powers didn’t develop until then. Where he got this stuff from, I had no idea, but one day I’d just thought about growing it in my human form, and it had happened.
My brother pushed me to try other changes, and I had experimented with my talons and toes. Just a little though—I was worried about whether I could always return them to normal. And they took resources to produce—I’d fainted more than once before I started pacing myself. Eating like a large-but-carnivorous bearing beast certainly helped.
I landed easily on the wide sill and retracted my tail before using the key I’d hidden beneath my scales to unlock it. I opened it to the damp night air, and stepped through.
As soon as I entered my suite, I knew that Ryn had returned.
He and I didn’t share the mindspeak connection like some twins did, although he could receive images sent from me. My talent enabled me to see through his eyes or glean images from him. However, my brother liked his secrets, and as a youngling, he’d learned how to block me from his mind.
Like he was doing now.
Despite that, I sensed his presence. That mental taste that was distinctly Ryn was something that was a permanent part of my existence. He was my twin, after all.
I went straight through my tiny suite to the door connecting to his, and flung it open.
My brother stood near the window. A solid six-and-a-half feet clad in dark green scales, with hair more auburn than my fiery shade and smooth muscles hugging his frame.
His handsome features flinched as I entered. “Dammit, Rey. Don’t you ever knock? I could have been jerking off.”
I raised a brow. His voice was unusually hoarse, and he only called me Rey when he was annoyed.
“Were you?”
“No.” Almost snarled, this time. My brother was usually icy calm and contained. Something had him off balance. I pushed for images from him—anything at all—and got only a sense of extreme agitation. His tell, the muscle in his jaw, was jumping like a startled Trantil, and his fist was closed around an object that I couldn’t quite see.
“You need to be more careful when and where you grow that tail,” he accused.
Okay. He’d been standing at the window, so he’d seen me come in. But why was he being so touchy? “What in the realms, Ryn. How stupid do you think I am?”
His eyes glowed green. “No one can know about your superpower.”
I was really annoyed, now. “Quit calling my weird talent a superpower. I know what I’m doing—I’ve been using it for years now, and no one has figured it out yet.”
I was ready to punch that point home, when the dim streetlights outside reflected off the chest and abdomen of his scaled bodysuit, and I spotted how it was disrupted by multiple long slashes.
My anger twisted in dismay. “Ryn! What the hell happened?”
He shrugged almost irritably and turned so his back was to me. “Ran into a bit of trouble. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“You’re hurt!”
“I’ll heal.”
That anyone or anything had gotten close enough to him to rip him like that made me shudder—but I knew my brother. When he had that note in his voice, he wasn’t going to give me an answer.
Unfortunately for him, I also wasn’t the type to give up easily. “Tell me what happened.”
“I don’t owe you, or anyone, any effing explanation,” he snapped. “It was a training mission. It went sideways. I survived. I’m fine. That’s all.”
“Oh, yeah. You seem perfectly fine.” I was usually good at sarcasm, but I was too upset to manage the correct tone. What radiated from him was a clear indication that he was far from okay. But when my mouth opened to attempt more sisterly criticism, he turned to face me. The look in his eyes stopped me cold.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” His fingers opened and closed again, giving me a glimpse of what it held—a braided length of bright-red fiber, wound around a piece of metal—a charm? I thought I caught the glint of a tiny crystal that would give it a little fizz of power. Something glittered in the dim light, spiraling around the outside.
“What’s that?” I asked.
His fingers clenched, hiding it. “A gift from a friend.”
“You don’t have any friends,” I pointed out. Because he didn’t. Ryn was a loner by choice, although he did have a finite selection of individuals that he was less likely to stick a knife into.
“Yeah, well, I do now. Leave it the hell alone, Rey.”
I glowered at him. “You come back from a training mission all torn up, clutching a talisman and prattling about phantom acquaintances, and you expect me to leave it?” My voice was rising, as was my temper.
“Keep it down, will you? These walls have ears.”
“I freaking know that.”
“Then lower your voice.”
My lips peeled back from my teeth. “Speaking of ears, did you have me watched while you were away?”
He went very, very still. So I knew the answer before he opened his mouth.
“Of course not,” he said slowly. “Who has been watching you?” His tone indicated he’d entered pre-mayhem mode.
“Pretty sure there are two Guild Dragons that have been keeping tabs on me since you left. One knows my name.”
“Why,” he said, “would they be watching you?”
I recognized it as more of a rhetorical question, and it caused a pulse of unease deep inside me. “I have no idea. But I wouldn’t mess with them until we do.” When his mouth pulled straight, I went for a diversion. “I added a nice red crystal to our stash. Snatched it yesterday during my mission.”
It wasn’t as off topic as it seemed, and he was right there with me. “We are a long way from buying ourselves out.” He moved to his rucksack on the bed, pulled out a smaller bag, and handed it to me.
The drawstring knot had tightened. As I worked it loose, my renegade tongue protruded out the side of my mouth, ever so slightly.
“Didn’t think it was tongue worthy.” Ryn tilted his head and his tongue mockingly snaked out the side of his own mouth.
He didn’t sound totally invested in the banter, but at least he was no longer focused on immediate slicing and dicing. The familiar tease loosened some of my anger, too, and I made a face at him as I pulled mine back in. The knot finally loosened, and I opened the bag to stare down at a glittering pile of gemstones. My mouth dropped. “Where did you get these?”
“The person I got them from was most eager to encourage me to leave. They need to go into our stash.”
“I just came from dropping off the crystal.”
“I’ll take it then.” He plucked it away from me.
“Ryn—”
My brother cleared his throat. “The cranky old bastard has scheduled a final group training session tomorrow morning.”
His attempts at diverting conversations were even clumsier than mine. As I didn’t want to talk about our bastard of a fight instructor, I glared at him. But experience told me that there was no way to redirect my brother once he’d chosen a course.
I considered giving it a go, regardless. My reply was through gritted teeth, “So I hear. I guess Mr. Blood and Gore wants one last crack at us.” We regularly referred to our fight instructor in many ways, most including profanity.
Ryn rubbed a hand over his face. “He’s pitting us against a Sycorb.”
My eyes shot theoretical daggers at him, because I didn’t want to hear anything more about the phantom elite warriors that Ryn insisted actually existed. The Guild had a breeding project, yes. And it was rather secretive. But generating genetically enhanced super warriors were reserved for novels with artwork generated by overly imaginative Centaurs. “They don’t exist,” I stated firmly.
Ryn’s face spasmed. “They do. You’ll see.”
I didn’t know what to say. My brother was full of weird ideas and theories. He gripped the small sack as he pushed his window wider, preparing to leave again.
He was going to fly off, and leave me with all these questions? “It’s getting light out. If you go now, those that are watching might see you.”
His hands curled, the talons popping free. “Good. I could use a good fight.”
My gut clenched. “Ryn, tell me what is going on.”
“Cinders.” He took a deep breath, and said quietly, “Please leave it alone.”
My twin never said please. And the use of his private nickname for me, rather than his referral to me as a spiced delicacy, was deliberate. Because he knew of its effect. Cinders was a nod to the rage I kept bottled inside, something fanned by years of brutality at the hands of our so-called instructors. Ryn was the only one who ever called me by that name.
I let him, and not only because he was my brother. But because I owed him everything.
One of the most important things he’d taught me was how to bottle my rage. To wait, and observe, in order to gather information that ensured my success… and then tap into that energy, and explode into action.
It had been a lesson that was grindingly difficult for me. Ryn had a level of control that I couldn’t hope to master.
I was fire, to his ice.
But now, the look in his eyes—I’d never seen it before. It pleaded with me to let my questions go. So I made the effort, swallowing my angst before I turned away. But as I stepped through the open doorway between our suites, his control slipped. And I caught a single image from him.
It was slightly fogged—impressions often were when shrouded in high emotion. A woman with feminine curves, walking away. She turned to look back over her shoulder. She looked so sad. I only caught a glimpse, but I perceived she was beautiful, and I thought I spotted graceful horns spiraling from her thick hair…
I’d never seen her before. Was pretty damned sure he must have met her on his mission.
Then my brother slammed his mind shut again, and she vanished. My stride hitched… his pain radiated from him in waves. And it was for that reason that I turned back to him, clutching at a straw that, even after all these years, I refused to release.
“If we can’t buy ourselves out, maybe we should run.”
It wasn’t the first time I’d uttered those words.
He rubbed a long-fingered hand over his face, so I knew his answer before he gave it. His brows lowered until you could barely see his eyes. And he used a tone usually reserved for when I was being particularly dense, to say, “Escape is not an option.”
I let my breath out on a sigh, and quoted the mantra we’d had drilled into us from younglings. “No one runs from the Black Guild.” I lifted my chin. “Maybe they just want us to believe that.”
My twin took a deep breath, while his eyes sparked emerald fire. Then he added in a voice I could barely hear, “They mean it, Reyna. No one escapes. Not ever.”
Another flash of pain, from deep inside him, where no one but me ever tread. So quickly squelched that tears pricked at my eyes.
Could I really let my brother fly away alone? I blinked the tears away as I set free the only solace that my brother would accept.
Then I stood in my open window and watched Ryn’s Dragon coast away into the night sky.