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CHAPTER 1

SCARLETT

“You are sure he will be here tonight?” a cool female voice asked, bored from where its bearer perched on a low garden wall.

“I have tracked him for weeks,” replied a voice of silk and honey. “He will be here.”

“You said the same thing an hour ago,” the first snarled, flipping a dagger in her hand.

“Then why did you ask me the same godsdamned question?”

“Kindly remember I get him first.”

“You always do,” the second voice crooned.

“Enough. Both of you.” An icy, third, female voice cut in through the bickering.

If the moon were out at all that night, it would have illuminated the three figures who sat in the shadows on that garden wall, waiting. Completely in black, from the boots to the hoods up over their heads, there were weapons gleaming on every inch of them. Steel daggers and swords. Bows and arrows. Hatchets and whips. Three women who knew how to use every single one of the weapons that adorned them with lethal efficiency. Three women who knew how to use their bodies as weapons— in all the ways a woman could use her body. Three women who were far more clever than most and that was perhaps their most valuable of weapons.Three women who had been raised together. Trained together. Three women feared by most. Nightmares come to life.

As it were, there was no moon out that night so the male, also dressed in black, did not see the women creeping along the wall as he passed them, despite constantly looking over his shoulder. The male did not hear the feet landing behind him softer than a cat. The male did not know he was not alone until a dagger was pressing into his back and that voice of silk and honey purred into his ear, “Hello, Dracon.”

The male swore and reached for his own blade at his side. Before his hand touched the hilt, the voice clicked her tongue. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“I’ve been waiting for you for weeks, you bitch,” the male sneered at her. “Ever since you let it be known that Death’s Shadow had begun trailing me.”

“Is that so?” she whispered softly.

“Yes, so let’s have it out like the trained professionals we are instead of you cowardly shoving a dagger through my back.”

“Hmm, as delightful as that does sound, I don’t think that will happen on this night.”

“Why not?”

The woman stepped back from him, releasing Dracon with a shove that had him stumbling a few steps. “Because tonight my sisters have joined me.” Even in the darkness, the woman could still see the male’s face drain of color.

“What?” he whispered.

A cruel smile spread across her face.

“One in particular has a score to settle with you.” The woman’s tone went dark and filled with wicked amusement as the other two women prowled from the shadows. She sniffed the air, her delicate nostrils flaring. “Why is it that you two make them piss themselves more than I do?”

“No.” The male’s breathing was ragged as he stumbled back from them. “No. I haven’t done anything to warrant this. No!”

“Well, that just isn’t true,” one of the women said sweetly as she stepped towards him.

“It is true! I’ve only done paying jobs. Just like you.” The male tripped over something as he backed away from them and fell to the stone ground. He continued to push himself away on his hands. “I’ve done nothing to warrant sending his Wraiths after me!”

The woman pulled a dagger from her side with a gloved hand, tapping the point against her fingertip.“He didn’t send us. Sometimes we collect our own debts, and I’ve been looking for you for a very long time.” Her voice was wildfire and snow and ice and shadows.

“Then clearly you lot aren’t as good as the rumors claim,” he sneered.

In less time than it took him to draw another breath, the dagger flew from her hand and went clear through his, pinning it to the ground beneath him.

He screamed in agony, reaching to pull out the dagger piercing him, but another boot came down on his other hand. He gasped around the pain.

“You’re right,” the woman who had thrown the dagger purred. “We’re better.”

The one he had called Death’s Shadow stalked toward him and wrenched the dagger from his hand. She tossed it back to the thrower, who caught it with ease, scowled, and grumbled, “Gods, it smells like him now.”