Cassius herded him down a few more streets before they were scaling a wall to the rooftops. Cyrus followed wordlessly, knowing this was Cass’s domain and not his. Cassius had been tense and withdrawn about coming here for the past two days, despite everything that had transpired between them. But Cyrus had watched as he’d slipped from the role of Hand-to-the-Queen to lethally trained assassin. He donned a mask the same way Scarlett did when she became Death’s Maiden, and Cassius as…thiswasn’t the same Cassius he’d spent the last couple nights tangled up with in bed or the last months helping learn to hone his magic. This Cassius was cold and calculating.
Cyrus had watched him strap on weapons so methodically, he could tell he’d done it hundreds, if not thousands, of times. Something in his chest had twisted at the knowledge that Cassius was only in his mid-twenties, and so many of those years were spent as…this.
“There are four people tailing us and more observing us from various vantage points,” Cassius said quietly, standing perfectly still.
“You said we would be watched before we even entered the Syndicate,” Cyrus replied, noting two figures on a warehouse roof down the street.
“Until we figure outwhois watching us, we cannot go near the remains of the Fellowship.”
“We can’t just…take care of them?” Cyrus asked casually.
Cassius slowly turned to him. “If we strike first, it’s as good as declaring a war against them.”
“So we have to wait for them to attack us? I prefer to be on the offensive, not the defensive,” Cyrus said, watching the people move about on the street below.
“Stick to the plan, Cyrus.”
“We don’t know what we’re even looking for,” he retorted. “We don’t have time to waste on waiting them out.”
“I thought we already had this argument,” Cassius grumbled.
They had. A few times during their planning. Cyrus had always relented, telling Cass he knew the place best and would follow his lead. But now that they were here? He really just wanted to get this over with.
“We at least need to figure out where they are hiding out with the Fellowship gone. Then we can monitor their movements, get a feel for their routine—”
“We don’t have weeks to plan a fucking mission, Cass,” Cyrus interrupted.
“You don’t just walk into the Black Syndicate and start killing people, Cyrus,” he countered begrudgingly. “You do that, and you’re the one that ends up dead.”
“Doubtful,” Cyrus muttered.
“Let’s go,” Cass gritted out.
“Go?” Cyrus repeated. “Go where? I thought we were monitoring movements.”
“We are,” Cass said, moving back to the roof edge they’d climbed over. “But we also need to scout out the underground passages that will lead us into the halls beneath the Fellowship.”
“Or,” Cyrus said, drawing out the word as he followed Cass down off the rooftop and into the alley below. “We detain one of the fuckers following us and see what he knows.”
“It’s like working with the Wraiths,” he heard Cass grumble from beneath his hood.
Cyrus was still debating if he considered that a compliment or not when he heard it. The release of a bowstring. The stirring of the air. He caught the black ashwood arrow an inch from his chest, incinerating the thing in his palm a moment later. Five figures emerged from the shadows of the alley.
“Now that they have fired the first shot, can we please take care of them?” Cyrus ground out, fire already beginning to wind its way down his arms.
“Try to leave one alive,” Cassius replied, drawing a sword.
A dagger came flying at them, Cassius stepping to the side a second before it grazed his cheek.
“Not that one. He dies,” Cyrus said darkly, fire flaring from his palm. The man who had thrown the dagger was screaming the next moment as flames engulfed him.
“Fae bastard,” one spat, pulling a shirastone dagger from his side and cocking his arm back to throw it.
But it was black flames that had him screaming, the dagger clattering to the stone alleyway.
Black ashwood arrows came from above, forcing them to shield and allowing those on the ground to advance. “Take care of them, Cass,” Cyrus said as he reinforced his shield to deflect more arrows. “I’ll cover you.”
Adjusting his grip, Cassius moved forward, bringing his sword up to meet that of another. His opponent had a shirastone dagger that Cassius blocked with one of his vambraces before he brought a foot up, landing a clean kick to the guy’s gut. Anoomphsounded from beneath the hood as the guy stumbled back, and Cass wasted no time swiping his blade across his throat. He spun in time to meet another sword, but this guy was better, already jumping back and circling around Cassius again.