Kylian Read online

  Kylian

  An Urban Fantsy

  Ann Gimpel

  Contents

  Kylian

  Book Description, Kylian

  Books in the Circle of Assassins Series:

  Author’s Note:

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Book Description: Court of Rogues

  Court of Rogues, Chapter One, Cyn

  About the Author

  Also by Ann Gimpel

  Kylian

  Circle of Assassins, Book Four

  Urban Fantasy

  * * *

  By

  Ann Gimpel

  * * *

  Tumble off reality’s edge into a twisted world fueled by lore and magic

  Copyright Page

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © April 2021, Ann Gimpel

  Cover Art Copyright © December 2020, Covers by Julie, JMN Art

  Edited by: Kate Richards

  Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or people living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, e-mail, or web posting without written permission from the author.

  Book Description, Kylian

  Power is intoxicating. Anyone who says you can overdo it is either incompetent or a very good liar. I’ve chased down every scrap of additional magic that crossed my path, drained it, and started the hunt anew. My obsession hasn’t made me much of a companion. I wouldn’t have blamed my bondmate for leaving, but the snow leopard has stuck by my side.

  It pains me to admit he’s my sole connection to my better nature. He tempers my penchant for blowing holes in the world and asking questions later. Not that he has a soft side. He doesn’t, but we’ve taken care of each other for all the years in my memory.

  Information just fell into my lap. Critical material I should have picked up on if I’d been paying attention. My next stop is Grigori, the werewolf who heads up a gang of paranormal assassins. Once I was part his Circle, but I left to sharpen my seer skills. No matter how adept I became, scrying the future—or the past—didn’t augment my power, so I moved on. Flitting from this to that to the other has been the story of my obscenely long life.

  No more. It’s back to the Circle for the leopard and me. We’ll remain as long as we’re needed.

  Books in the Circle of Assassins Series:

  Shira, Book One

  Quinn, Book Two

  Rhiana, Book Three

  Kylian, Book Four

  Grigori, Book Five

  Author’s Note:

  Between Covid-19 and the California fires, I’ve had a lot of time to dream up ideas for books. Watching too much Blacklist and Warehouse 13 and Stranger Things probably didn’t help. And the last season of Supernatural. I will miss Sam and Dean…

  Meanwhile, a concept shaped up for me. Assassins have always held a fascination factor. Death is a job for them, but what kind of people are they beneath their knives and guns and poison? Toss a few bond animals into the mix, and the bones for a darkish urban fantasy series took shape.

  Within its pages, you’ll ride alongside men and women who found their way to an age-old profession. Every king worth his salt had a court assassin, and so has every ruler from olden times to modern. If you’re shaking your head saying such things can’t happen today, take a look at “suicides” that are swept under a whole bunch of rugs. Oddly enough, all those suspicious deaths had stories to tell, stories someone wanted silenced—forever.

  Kylian is a different type of assassin. In a fruitless search for peace, he withdrew from everything long ago. Enforced solitude isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, though.

  Prologue

  Ice cracked ominously. Another epic chunk peeled off from the glacier above and divebombed our position. A surreptitious shot of magic diverted it, not so far away as to cause suspicion, though. The thousand-pound missile thumped to the ground, narrowly missing one of our precious snowmobiles. We used them to ferry supplies, and I’d be damned if I’d leave shit for the Russians to steal parts from.

  “Dame Fortune loves us,” one of my companions shrieked and fist-pumped the air.

  I stifled a wry grin, amused at how quickly mortals attribute random events to some special intervention. Would he still be hanging his hat on Dame Fortune, who doesn’t exist, if the block of ice had landed on his helmet?

  My earpiece crackled with instructions to move out. The falling seracs suggested the day had grown too warm for maneuvers on Ellesmere Island, a scrap of rocky land next to Baffin Island north of the Arctic Circle. The Russians had snuck in an outpost here, violating of a bunch of international treaties. Because it was so remote, they refused to admit it existed.

  My group of mercenaries had been dispatched to take it out. So far, we hadn’t made a hell of a lot of progress.

  I try not to lead expeditions like this one. Too much temptation to toss magic about and out myself. But I’m not shy about voicing opinions. I located Frank, our de facto team leader, with a thread of seeking magic and hustled to his side before anyone acted on his pull-the-plug command.

  A big man with a full black beard and the build of a linebacker, he shot me an annoyed glance. “We’re pulling out,” he said. “Something wrong with your communicator?”

  Because I could, I scraped the surface of his mind to see what was really going on. Surprise, surprise. He wasn’t annoyed, he was scared. The last batch of falling ice must have gotten to him.

  “We can finish this,” I said, holding to a neutral, non-confrontational tone. Before he ginned up a reply, I went on. “Then we won’t have to keep coming back.”

  No need to point out we were going on two weeks and so far hadn’t gotten near enough to the Russian installation to be much more than a nuisance. They’d wisely sunk their building deep in the ice with its foundation resting on bedrock. It protected them from avalanches, and damn near everything else. It was how they’d gotten away with denying its existence. The only thing that stuck up above ground—or in this case, ice—level was their com equipment.

  The satellite apparatus protruding from the roof was all we’d managed to destroy. Since I was certain they had duplicate machinery inside, we hadn’t made a dent in their defenses.

  Frank wasn’t all that swift on the uptake, but he did manage to grunt, “How?” in response to my comment about finishing things.

  I considered it a win. He could have told me to shut up and get moving. Line of command and all that shit. “So far, the problem has been we can’t get inside.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” he growled.

  Time to lie my fucking head off. “I did some poking around,” I told him. “I believe I can breach the barrier, and then the rest of you can follow. We’ll finish off whomever we find, and then we can go home.”

  “Not seeing it. We’ve been around and around the target ten times.”

  Another volley of automatic weapons spewing bullets split the eerie quiet of the Arctic. We returned fire. Waste of good ammo, if you ask me. The rattle of weaponry was
the only noise other than the perpetual pounding of the ocean on ice that rimmed the shore. We had a ship moored quite a way out in Baffin Bay. Danish troops were keeping an eye on it for us. Amazingly, our fleet of Zodiac rafts lined the ice, untouched.

  But then, we had our target pinned in their building. It might be considered an accomplishment, but the Russians are masters at stonewalling enemies. They barricaded themselves into Leningrad during World War II and beat the Germans by default.

  “Let me worry about the where part,” I told Frank seeding my words with enough calming magic to, hopefully, settle him down. I could launch my plan without his blessing, but I try to be a team player on these missions. I only sign up to amuse myself. If I got a rep for being tough to work with, no one would tap me for anything.

  Keeping my various aliases straight was a challenge. Most mercenaries stash go bags in key locations. I craft what I need on the spot with magic. It beats pulling out a set of creds I haven’t used in so long they’ve expired. Had that happen with money too when one of the squabbling Eastern European counties deep-sixed their currency in favor of the Euro. I miss gold—and silver. They never fell out of fashion.

  “What are we doing, boss?” hissed through my headset.

  It made sense. After Frank’s pronouncement we were leaving, he hadn’t fleshed out any details. The troops were growing restless, all fifteen of us. Including me.

  I made a decision, one that might cost me, but I was tired of dicking around. Dropping a hand onto his shoulder, I said, “Maybe you were right the first time. Fall back to the rafts. Don’t wait on me.” Along with my persuasive suggestion, I did some rearranging so he wouldn’t remember our earlier conversation.

  Or me, until I materialized.

  Hopefully, when I saw him next aboard the ship, he’d go along with my version of reality, the one where I reminded him he’d assigned me to go in solo. A secret mission only the two of us knew about. As fact-planting went, it should be simple enough to accomplish.

  Frank keyed his mic. “Pack up. Move out.”

  Excellent. My wee bit of compulsion had taken root. I didn’t wait around for him to ask questions. Our team was on the move, revving up the snowmobiles and stowing gear. Drawing invisibility around myself, I headed for the Russian installation. Ione joined me well out of sight of the others. He’s a snow leopard and my bondmate. He’s always along on these expeditions, but he knows to stay out of sight. His kind aren’t exactly native to this area, but that’s not the worst of it. He’s easily double the size of a normal snow leopard, and would draw the wrong kind of attention.

  Wind had been brisk since daybreak, but it picked up still more. Bits of ice thwacked my face, the only place I had exposed skin. Ione sported bloody smears near his mouth. “What’d you kill?” I asked.

  He licked his whiskers, but it didn’t obliterate the evidence. “Seal,” he mumbled.

  I muffled a snort. “You ate a whole seal? That’s going to slow you down.”

  “Only half.” He sounded miffed. “Saved the rest for our next trip here.”

  “Ha! You may have to do battle with a polar bear.”

  Ione growled. He and I both knew he was more than a match for any polar bear, but not many were left. On the other hand, seals were ubiquitous. “What are we doing?” he asked.

  “We’re teleporting inside and killing everyone. Then I’ll dismantle everything useful, and we’ll return to the ship.”

  “You’ll return to the ship. I’ll wait…elsewhere.”

  “Not here. We’ll be done here.”

  He rolled his big shoulders as he trotted next to me. “Fine. I’ll go home. Which one?”

  I’d been thinking about it. “Maybe you will want to remain here if the hunting is plentiful. I have to stop by the villa. Haven’t been there in years.”

  Ione made a snarly face. He hated the villa by the Adriatic; the climate was far too warm for his taste. Mine too, truth be known, but I couldn’t abandon it. Someone had to ensure the warding was still intact.

  We reached the perimeter of the Russian installation. A muted electronic whirring suggested someone knew we were here. Guessing at the interior layout, I snatched a spell out of my bag of tricks and teleported to the lowest level of the building, making certain Ione and I were well concealed.

  In stark contrast to the outside, the building was overheated. At least the small room forming around us was deserted. As I’d hoped, it contained banks of computer equipment. Ione padded toward the door.

  “Wait,” I told him and redirected power to assess exactly what we faced. I scanned once, and then again with the same results. Eighteen men, two women, and one Dark Fae. What in the hell was a magic-wielder doing here? Was he passing for human? They were capable of that if they employed a glamour to hide their wings. And their ears.

  Until I shot my wad, the mortals would remain oblivious to my presence. But the Fae could find me the same way I located him. In truth, he probably already knew we were here. It meshed with the sense of having been discovered that had buffeted me when we stood outside. I’d been going back and forth on a strategy, but the Fae’s presence decided things. I wouldn’t have nearly as much fun, but I’d be efficient.

  I hustled to Ione and consolidated our ability. Once I had both magics well in hand, I sent lethal power in a wide arc. It would seek out life and destroy whatever crossed its path. Except the Dark Fae. He’d require a direct approach. Lab animals were one floor up. They’d die too, but weeding them out would take more time. Lots more.

  Besides, once the humans were gone, there’d be no one to take care of them. The rats, mice, cats, and monkeys wouldn’t stand a chance at survival if I loosed them. Maybe death was a backhanded favor.

  “You’re ruining the fun,” Ione groused as the sound and scent of death surrounded us.

  “I know. I’ll make it up to you.”

  “How?”

  I nudged him. “Wait for it.” Untangling our power, I formed small lightning bolts and contained them as they arced between my hands.

  “Fae?” Ione snarled. Hackles shot up along the length of his back. “How’d he get here?”

  It was the question of the hour, but one I lacked an answer to.

  The door to our cramped quarters blew open, carried by a gust of magic. Interesting. This must be one of the stronger Fae. Usually, their White counterparts were the ones with the most magic.

  Pinning him and draining his power was tempting, but I wanted information. He probably wouldn’t volunteer jack, but I have ways of getting around that. Power poured from him, pelting Ione and me.

  “Is that the best you can muster?” I asked. “Hell, blowing ice chunks were worse.”

  The Fae grunted and swept long white hair over broad shoulders. He was tall for his kind and naked from the waist up. Silver wings mottled with jewel tones were folded against his shoulders. His skin held a coppery tint, which was odd. Most of his kinsmen were fair to the point of looking bleached out. At least his pointed chin and sculpted cheekbones looked like they should. His legs were encased in khaki pants, and he wore shiny leather boots. Another oddity. All the Fae I’ve known have preferred to go barefoot. It amplifies their connection with the earth.

  “You killed my beasties,” he gritted and hurled more power our way. Had he figured out what I am? If he did, he’d have conserved his resources. Or maybe he already knew he was a dead mage.

  I tried to place his accent and pegged him for one of Faery’s residents. Even more curious. What in the hell was he doing here?

  “Stand down.” I infused command into my words. A shocked look crossed his face, eyes wide, fair eyebrows raised. But he dropped his hands and stared at me.

  Yup. Thrall works extremely well, especially for those with weaker magic than mine, which is damn near everyone.

  Ione padded closer, his amber eyes brimming with disgust. “What were you doing with those beasties?”

  The Fae averted his silver eyes. Not many can stare I
one down and live to tell about it.

  “Making them better,” he mumbled.

  I could play twenty questions, or I could hurry things up. He was the last loose end. Nothing alive stirred on the floors above. If I’d been feeling generous, I might have opted for something that wouldn’t hurt him, but he was on his way out anyway.

  Shaping a spell, I shoved it into his memories as I mined for all the details I could come up with. He groaned and grabbed his head. My estimation of him shot up a few notches. He wasn’t squealing or begging for mercy.

  Ione trotted through the door. Good. He’d check on the rest of the facility and make damn good and sure no one was left. Where there was one Fae, there might be others who’d been hidden to my probing.

  I’d passed through surface layers and was trolling deeper. Once I was convinced I’d moved past his association with the Russians, I cut the connection. The Fae dropped to his knees, keening softly. He knew the jig was up. It was only a matter of how I chose to drain his power.

  Not much shocks me, but this mess held a worrisome sophistication. “You violated our covenant,” I shouted. The Fae didn’t even bother to look up.

  Ione was back, furry face twisted in disgust. “His beasties are unnatural monsters.” He swiped a paw down the side of the Fae’s face, leaving bloody tracks.