A Study in Black: Assassin Series#3

By Simon Corn

Alex Black lifted his bruised face as he heard his brother groan when Lord Sirap’s blade penetrated Gideon’s defences and implanted itself in Gideon’s stomach. Their eyes met and Gideon smiled and slowly nodded as his blood spilled onto the black and white marble dance floor inside of the great fort. Every fibre in Alex’s being wanted to reach out and retire Gideon himself but as the light faded from his brother’s eyes a small piece of Alex died with it. Alex closed his eyes and heard the screaming as Lord and Lady Black were dispatched by his friend Alara Du Preeze, and then he felt the cold embrace of Sable as she whisked him away from the great fort and into her world. “I’m your mother, Alex.”

Alex awoke in a new world he barely understood, one filled with political intrigue, underground fight clubs and nothing but pain and hurt. He threw the sheets off of the bed and ran to open the window to let the freezing night’s air cool his body, but the adrenaline was coursing through his veins and he screamed a single word at the full moon that hung over the city skyline... “Lucinda!”

Sable looked up as she heard the scream echo around her mansion and locked eyes with the only other female that she trusted, “Are you ready?”

“Indeed!”

“Very well, if he fails he dies.”

“He’ll probably die anyway.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Simon Corn
• Release date: Nov 26, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463858868

Simon Corn

Simon retired from industry to follow his passion for writing. He spends his time creating fantastic worlds for readers to lose themselves in, engaging characters that you’ll want to love and hate (sometimes at the same time), and stories that encapsulate the imagination and take you on a journey through life, death and everything in between. He also laughs way too much at himself in the mirror every morning.

Book preview

Alex ran across the rooftop searching for an escape route. His eyes darted from left to right, looking for an opening that would save his life. The Assassin was closing the ground between them, and Alex could swear he felt the killer’s breath on the back of his neck. He vaulted over an air-conditioning unit and nearly stumbled as the loose stone on the ground moved beneath his booted foot. His hand automatically dropped to his side and clutched for a knife, but his blade belt wasn’t there. He gulped in a freezing cold lungful of air that burned within his chest as he stopped for a second and listened for footfalls, but the rooftop was silent. The city streets were as soundless as the stars above his head and Alex thought for just a second that he’d outrun his assailant until a blade whistled past his head and spun him around, the Assassin was close! He turned one hundred and eighty degrees and ran as hard as he possibly could, but another blade just missed the side of his face. He looked around desperately, spotted the ledge of the building and estimated the gap to the next rooftop to be in reach. Another blade cut through his Assassin’s black shirt, drawing blood from his left bicep. Instinct was screaming at him to run and leap from the building, but his legs felt as though he was trying to wade through quicksand. He heard a laugh behind him and knew instantly that it was Gideon chasing him down; he gritted his teeth and turned to face his arch-enemy head-on. What do you want, Brother? he screamed at the blond man standing behind him.

Just your head, Gideon shouted and let loose a blade that hit Alex in the shoulder, knocking him back two steps.

Alex sent a healing spell through his body, but the cast failed and he dropped to one knee, Fuck you, Gideon. He pulled the blade slowly from his shoulder as pain flared through his body and examined the motif on the metal, admiring the decorative dragon. He looked into Gideon’s eyes, dragged the cold steel along his tongue and spat the blood in his brother’s direction. Come on you bastard!

It’s you that’s the bastard, Brother, Gideon snarled.

The blade felt magically balanced in Alex’s hand as he lifted it into a throwing position, and a small smile found its way to his lips as he hurled the blade with as much force as he could muster. Gideon was standing with his back to a wooden door with brick walls flanking him on either side, Got you trapped, asshole! The blade flew through the air, but as it toppled from end to end it seemed to slow down. It was time for revenge, and his eyes were wide with anticipation and hope. If the blade were true he would win the day, and the memories of being beaten half to death on the roof of House Black would be banished from his memory forever, but as the blade neared its target it came to a stop and the pommel was safely back in Gideon’s grasp. No! Alex cried out and turned to run, but the rooftop had morphed and he once again stared at the glass dome that adorned the roof of the great fort. Alex felt his brother close in and looked around for his friend Alara Du Preeze, but he was alone. He turned again to face his sibling, So what happens now?

You die.

Then do your best. He felt Gideon’s spell hit him, but his mental shield took the brunt of the attack and he managed to deflect it enough to gain three steps toward his target. If he could get close enough he might be able to land a killing blow. Gideon’s second spell was stronger and stopped Alex in his tracks, he could feel his brother forcing his way into his mind and the pain was excruciating.

Gideon stood with one arm thrust out in front of him, I beat you again, Brother, do you seriously think that you will ever be able to best me?

Alex tried to force Gideon from his head, but it was hopeless and he gave into Gideon’s superior skills…again.

Pathetic. Give it up, Brother; you’ll always be second to me.

Fuck you!

No, Alex, fuck you, Gideon calmly grabbed a handful of snow white hair and rested the blade on Alex’s throat. Pathetic, Brother, truly pathetic.

And as Alex felt the blade bite deeply into his skin he tried to scream…

Black by Name, Black by Nature

Alex awoke and screamed out loud, his body was covered in sweat and his black shirt clung to his torso. He jumped from the bed, ran to the window, flung it wide open and let the night air rush over his body like a freezing cold wave crashing down over sun-drenched sand. The nightmares were relentless and each ended the same way, Gideon beating him before slitting his throat. He’d found himself losing concentration during the days as he relived the dreams in his mind, and it became impossible to focus on the simplest of tasks. He swallowed hard and bit his lip to prove to himself that he wasn’t still dreaming. The cold made him shiver, so he grabbed a blanket from the bottom of his bed and wrapped it around his shoulders to keep him warm. There was no point in being physically ill if he could help it, the mental anguish was enough to deal with on its own.

He looked around the room and almost laughed at the preposterousness of his surroundings. He’d been brought up in the kitchens of the Killing Grounds and the only comfort he’d ever known was the cot in the barracks, but now he had his own rooms in the massive mansion that belonged to Sable, his mother. The warmth of the blanket made him feel better, and he relaxed his body and sent a healing energy wave slowly through his being; this time it worked perfectly. He let it enter every single part of him and as the spell permeated through his body and into his injuries, it moved from his torso through his limbs and into his extremities. He made sure that the spell was diverted away from the broken bone in his right arm; he wasn’t ready for that particular wound to heal. Gideon had inflicted the damage and Alex had left it to heal naturally, the pain he felt every day reminded him that his brother was out there somewhere. Sable wanted to heal it as soon as they got back from House Black, but Alex had pushed her away and swore at her to leave it alone. He wasn’t sure if he could trust the woman, after all she had been the one to leave him at the Killing Grounds as a small child, and if it hadn’t been for the fight at House Black he probably would never have known that she was his birth mother. She said that her plan had been to tell him of his heritage once he finished A1, but he’d only finished A4.

The thought of the finals drifted into his consciousness and he grimaced as he remembered taking the unlucky apprentice’s head for attempting to retire the one person that he had loved: Lucinda Millhaven. Love hah! he said out loud. Where is that love now? He heard the door creak open and desperately searched for his blade belt, you’re a damn fool, did the Killing Grounds teach you nothing?

Is everything in order, Master Black?

It was Butler, Madam Isabelle’s personal aide, Yes, and if I were you I would be careful sneaking around the house like a thief in the night.

"Very good, Sir, and is there anything I can get you as I sneak around?"

Alex hated sarcasm aimed at him, but he’d left the door open to the comment and chose to ignore it, Just be about your business old man. He heard the door close and waited until the servant’s footfalls disappeared before locking it.

These surroundings are making me soft, there’s no way on earth that the old fool should be able to creep up on me like that! Things will change, he promised himself and cast a spell that lit the wood in the hearth. The rest of the house was warmed by magical wards, but Alex preferred to be in personal control of his area of the house. He sat in a plain black leather chair that faced the newborn flames and closed his eyes. The heat felt good against his skin and as he let the blanket fall from his shoulders, thoughts of Gideon sprung up in his mind and he fought them back into his subconscious. There was no way he would be able to fall asleep again. His thoughts went back to that night, not of his fight with Gideon, but to a voice that he had heard from a distance. He remembered it for one single reason; the voice had saved his life when he was certain his throat would be cut. It had been hard to hear the whole conversation, as the pain in his body was screaming for him to fall unconscious, and while it was all he could do to keep himself from falling into oblivion, he had heard the words my son and felt the knife being removed from underneath his chin.

He’d been hauled to his feet and carried to a woman dressed in pure white, she’d held him and tried to clean his face but he’d pushed her away. The next thing he remembered was being whisked away in a car through the night. The journey seemed to take forever, but now he knew it could have only been fifteen minutes at the most.

His thoughts went to Alara Du Preeze. He hadn’t asked Sable about his friend as she’d had made it blatantly clear to him that the girl was now an enemy of the Estate and that he was to have nothing to do with her henceforth. If truth be known he missed her, but not as much as he missed Lucinda. She’d been his first love and the thought of losing her brought a tear to his eyes. The Millhavens were the sworn enemies of the Isabelle Estates, and she was now lost to him and living in another world to his. His mother had given him strict instructions that he was to forget the girl, but as much as he tried he couldn’t. She’d been a guiding light during the last few months at the Killing Grounds, and he’d sworn to himself to protect her no matter what. He’d never told her that he loved her, and that, more than anything else, he regretted deeply.

Light began to creep into the room and Alex opened the other three windows in his rooms and dressed in his Assassin’s blacks. Sable persistently asked him to dress according to his new station, but he refused. He loved being an Assassin and if he couldn’t be part of the Guild he would celebrate it by proudly wearing the uniform. As he finished tying the black scarf around his right bicep, he summoned a small shield to protect the break in his arm and crawled out of the window where he balanced precariously on a small ledge outside of the opening. The sun was slowly making its way out of the sea and the small amount of heat it radiated warmed his skin. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. Lucinda had taught him a few meditation techniques which had taken him an age to master but were well worth the effort it had taken.

Sable had stolen the blade belt from him. Maybe she was scared that he would self-retire, and the lack of weight had nearly caused him to fall the first few times he’d tried to transverse the building via the small outcropping that snaked its way around the perimeter of the mansion house. He heard a Snowy Owl hoot in the distance and imagined the bird circling the city looking for small rodents to take back to its owlets hidden safely away in a warm nest; the thought cheered him as he took the first sideways step to his right.

Most Assassins would face in towards the cold red bricks, but Alex learned quickly that he had more chance to right himself if he lost his balance by facing outward. He edged his way to the corner of the mansion building and felt the ivy between his fingers. During the daylight hours the wall looked like a vibrant sea of small green waves with hints of yellow and orange glinting in the sunlight, but in the early morning gloom, it reminded him of a frozen waterfall that flowed from the building’s flat roof. He turned the corner and froze as he saw a light coming from his mother’s side of the house; he didn’t want her to know about his early morning jaunts. He needed some things to remain a secret from her; she seemed to know everything and it irritated him at how nonchalantly she acted when she corrected people. His time at the Killing Grounds had been harsh and sometimes evil in nature, but it had taught him respect, loyalty and honesty, and from what he knew about the woman so far, none of his values were even remotely similar to hers.

He waited for the light to go out before edging slowly past her windows, she was attempting to teach him about her business practices, but it didn’t interest him in the slightest and he bored easily. Instead of sitting and listening to her seminars on etiquette and business protocols he dreamed about running from rooftop to rooftop in Downtown, chasing down bounties and retiring marks. He’d broached the subject about him becoming her personal security, but she’d refused to listen, stating that she had her own Assassins and that she had bigger plans for him. Not once had she asked if he wanted anything to do with her big plans and he found himself dreading spending time with her.

As he reached the second corner, he reversed his body and flattened himself against the wall. The ivy had given way to brick and he reached around the corner to feel for the steel of the ladder that would take him to the roof. His fingers were just able to make sure the ladder hadn’t been retracted and he grinned to himself. He knew that the ledge had crumbled away from the brickwork just around the corner, and the only way to get to the rooftop was to take a leap of faith. He reached up with his right hand and searched for purchase between the bricks, gripped on tightly as he flung his body around the corner of the building and pushed off as hard as he possibly could with his feet. The cement bit into his fingertips, but he managed to hold on until the last moment before letting go and sailing into empty air. Timing was the key to success, but as his left hand reached out, his grip failed and he flailed wildly at the metal stairs and began to fall. Panic struck and he dropped the shield protecting his broken arm, pain shot through his body and he cried out in agony. Relax for fuck’s sake and remember your training! Within a millisecond the shield was back in place and he grabbed a lower rung and held on for dear life as his body slammed into the steel ladder, knocking the wind from his lungs. He fought for breath and managed to find a foothold to take his weight. That was too close for comfort! His breathing was ragged and his heart was beating out of his chest, but the safety of the step helped him to relax and regain some composure. A few months ago he would have been severely reprimanded for making such a rookie error, but that was then and this was now, and he was grateful no one could see his ungainly ascent. He banged his head three times against the steel handhold to remind himself not to miss next time and smiled as his breathing evened out and his heartbeat returned to its normal resting pace. After a moment’s recovery, he climbed to the roof and collapsed onto the small stones that covered the floor.

The early morning air smelled fresh and clean, and he breathed deeply and cast a healing spell to calm him and heal any minor injuries the journey had caused and stood examining the city that sprawled out beneath the estate. The faint sunlight reflected off the spectacular glass office towers of the rich and powerful and the corrugated rooftops of the poor alike, and Alex smiled at the one constant in an ever-changing city. The sun rose into the sky no matter what, not caring who it shone on and with it, life went on. He walked to the edge and stood with one foot resting on the rim, if a person were standing below they could surmise that he was about to jump, but nothing was further from the truth. He’d made the climb five times now, even though he’d attempted it ten times and failed to jump on the other occasions. He sighed and walked to the rear of the building; in the distance he could see the outline of the great Fort. From what he had heard around the mansion, the Assassins were busy moving their Guild from the Killing Grounds to the ancient castle, which meant that their old Guild house was up for sale. His mother would no doubt be pouring all of her vast resources into making the Killing Grounds hers, but none of it really interested him, the only thing that he cared about lived in the other house that bordered the Sable Estates: Millhaven House. He knew Lucinda had moved back there after she had left the Guild, but was she waiting for him? Did she even care about him anymore? Sable had delighted in telling him that Lucinda’s face was a ruin of scars and that she was deformed and ugly, but it didn’t matter to Alex, he loved her and there would have to be a whole lot more than a few scars wrong with her to make him think otherwise.

In the distance, he heard church bells beckoning to their flocks to come and pay tribute to a God that Alex had no time for. The world was a harsh place and evil lurked in every corner, what sort of God would allow its faithful to live in malevolent times such as this? No, the only thing that ruled the people now was violence and hatred, and it sickened him. Many people loathed the Assassins and worked hard to try and change the status quo and ban the Guilds, but Alex knew that without the Assassins the world would be a much more evil place. His brethren played an important role in society and whether people liked it or not they were there to stay. His body ached for more exercise, but he knew he had to be careful of his arm, he was pushing the limits of his shield and if he continued without healing he could do irreparable damage. It was time to get on with the day and that meant breakfast with his mother, Alex gritted his teeth and jogged to the exit from the roof.

Sable

Sable paced around her quarters, she’d sensed the boy exploring the building before, but the moment he chose to jump for the ladder always put her ill at ease. She’d pondered at length whether she’d save him or not should he miss the handhold and plummet toward the ground and probable death, but a definite answer, either way, eluded her. The thought of him being so soft made her feel sick to her stomach and as she watched his early attempts through her mind’s eye, the feelings of doubt and anxiety filled her heart and bore into her brain. She wanted so much for him to be strong and bold as the son of Serith Black was born to be, but instead, he was weak and feeble. Questions of whether she should have just left him there to die at the hands of his brother played games within her mind. That decision had been the hardest of her life, on the inside she’d been a mental wreck as her emotions wrenched her heart from one decision to another, even though her physical appearance would have been seen as calm and as collected as she always portrayed herself to be. Then she’d claimed him, only to find him an empty husk of a boy and not what she’d expected at all. He was beaten both physically and psychologically, and most of his mental faculties had ceased to exist. He was broken, and even though she could easily fix his body, his mind could have been lost forever. After weeks of recuperation, he’d started talking and dealing with some of his issues, but he was still such a mess and Sable wondered constantly if it was all worth the effort. She’d done her best and the rest was now up to him.

The memories of that fateful night when the one man she loved was taken from her forever haunted her dreams. Every time the Assassin’s blade cut through the skin of his neck she pictured herself just sitting there watching; as if it were a movie. She’d done nothing to stop it, and the one thought that kept coming back to her was, why? Why had she just let the blade take his life? Why hadn’t she blocked it with one easy spell? Why? And then she’d see the blood ooze out of his body and mix with the detritus littering the floor from the wreckage of the glass dome and she’d scream violently enough to rip herself from sleep.

She gritted her teeth and punched the wall next to the window as she heard her son’s body slam against the iron steps outside of her personal area of the mansion. The thought of mentally pushing him from the ladder crossed her mind, but she ignored it and traversed the room to stand in front of the fireplace. At least the boy was growing in strength, but his attitude to his new surroundings annoyed her immensely. She sensed him climb to the roof and shook her head. He was part of the family now and she expected him to act accordingly and not continue to portray the paid Assassin that he seemed to crave so badly. No, he was her son, and she would do everything possible to make him her successor; but then the negative thoughts started to creep into her mind. What if he never manages to let go of his past? What if he says he has and then he betrays me with the Millhaven girl? What happens if he turns his back on me and returns to the Killing Grounds? No, none of that will happen! But what if it does? What will I do?

She let her mind wander back to the roof and found him standing on the roof ledge above her window, looking down. Just a quick push and everything would go back to normal. But no, it wouldn’t be normal. Serith would still be dead. My only connection to him stands above me debating whether to jump without my help. Jump son, go on be a man! She hung her head as Alex walked away from the ledge and back into the house. Weak, weak boy! She contemplated connecting with him mentally and berating him on his failure and questioning his motives for walking away from the edge, but she knew it would be an exercise in futility. She shook her head and concentrated on the flames in the hearth and let her mind wander back to the times that she had been her happiest, when a younger Serith Black had caught her eye and opened her legs.

It had been twenty years ago when she was working her way up in her father’s company. Her brother Edward had been in charge of the business with brothers James and Kingsley at his side. Basel had been but a babe in arms; he’d been sent to the Killing Grounds and struck out of the company business for life. She’d been fourth in line, but that wasn’t going to stop her plans to take over in the long run. Fate had forced the issue when the three boys were retired in one of the bloodiest company coups to be fought in the history of the city. She’d been the sole survivor and had personally retired every one of the enemy executives that backed the coup. Her vengeance was quick and severe, cleaning shop overnight. A new board had been elected and she worked hard at making the business the most successful in the city. When it had reached its zenith and her executives sat back and started to slow down she had retired them all and took sole command of everything.

The Senior Council had no option but to offer her a seat as she became the third richest family in the city behind the Blacks and the Millhavens, but the word family always cut her to the core. It was everything she wanted, a family of her own to rival the likes of Serith Black and Marchant Millhaven. The council had questioned the fact that she refused to have a surname, but she fought against changing her family creed for the sake of a few highborns, and she’d spat in the face of normality and stuck with Isabelle; Madam Isabelle to be formal. But anyone who did business with her either above or below board knew her by a different name, Sable. She’d chosen the name as a nod to her youngest brother Basel. She had stayed in contact with the Assassin and he’d worked for her for a short while, but his loyalty to the Killing Grounds disgusted her and she dismissed him. To this day he’d been the only member of her staff to keep his head once he walked away from her employ.

It was during her first Council meeting that two things became very clear to her, Serith Black would become her lover and Marchant Millhaven would be her mortal enemy. Two days before she took her seat the latter had decreed that no person born outside of Lordship would be allowed the title except for those that worked for the Junior Council and those that served the Killing Grounds. She’d craved that title and it was one of the main reasons she’d agreed to join their ranks. Her rage was felt across the city when she found out she was to be denied. She’d searched for weaknesses in the Millhaven business empire that very night and destroyed assets worth millions in gold before the sun climbed out of the sea and into the sky. There were inquiries of course, but she had a rock-solid alibi and she’d already retired anyone else that could link her to the crimes within twelve hours, in what was later to be known as The Blood Tide.

She’d bedded Serith Black the following night with such passion and strength that she thought she’d killed the man as he lay still in her bed, sweating in the aftermath of their love-making. She’d put a hand on his chest to check his breathing, but he just stood up and left without saying another word, and then every night he would come back for more. Within three months she was pregnant with Alex and as her girth widened, Serith’s visits became fewer and fewer. The last time she had seen him outside of business had been on the day Alex was born, he held him close for ten seconds before handing him back and walking away from her forever. That hadn’t stopped her from loving him and she pined for her mate every night for months. It was at that time she’d first been attacked by what she called her Swarm Thoughts. The doctors had been called when she went for three nights without sleep as her mind raced from one scenario to another, they’d told her that she suffered from something called insomnia, but she’d dismissed them and refused them payment. She could have diagnosed herself with that, but she knew this wasn’t simply a case of not being able to sleep. This was more like being attacked by her own mind in an endless maelstrom of ideas that flew into her head from one direction, only to be forced out by another coming at her from somewhere else, and it scared her. She had control over everything in her world except for the two things she craved: Serith Black and her own mind.

These days she was used to the Swarm Thought attacks, but the aftermath took a heavy toll on her mind and body. Exhaustion and depression normally set in during and after an attack, and then the ecstasy and exhilaration of the high balanced everything out and her world once again became her own to control.

Butler come and join me, please.

Very well, Madam, I’ll be with you as soon as possible.

Butler had been with her throughout everything, he’d been her rock and he was the only other living being that understood how the Swarm Thoughts affected her. He was twenty odd years her senior, grey of hair and stately of nature. She often thought he looked like an old secretary bird stalking his prey along the banks of some forgotten river in Aria. His insights were invaluable to her and his support never wavered, even through her darkest of days and sleepless nights.

Sable heard the knock on the door but ignored it. Butler always did it as a formal warning that he was about to enter even though he never needed to. If she wanted privacy, she could just create a shield and Butler, being mundane, would just bounce off harmlessly. Good morning, Butler, she said emotionlessly as the older man crossed the room gracefully.

Good morning, Madam Isabelle, I trust you slept well.

She offered him a look of derision, You know better than that.

Indeed, Madam, I heard you pacing all night.

Then why ask me, Butler?

It’s an easy way to tell if you’re well enough to discuss it. Sometimes you are… and sometimes the subject is better off left alone.

She knew the illness was slowly intensifying and that the effects were multiplying with every attack, but the thought that she didn’t remember those times that she hid it from him weighed heavily on her. The sight of Alex’s face came to the front of her mind. If I lose it completely at least you will be there to take over, but right now you’re useless to me! Did you see the boy again this morning?

I watched from afar, Madam, he seems to be gaining in strength and confidence, but if I may say, what he gains in vigour he loses in attitude. He actually accused me of creeping around the house this morning when I checked in on him. I don’t think he remembers who it was that dressed him and fed him when he first came to the mansion.

He is a little insufferable at times but bear with him, please. He has a lot to learn in a very short period of time, and I will need you to take up the mantle of teaching him how to act around the likes of Millhaven and the rest of the council pussies soon enough. She almost spat the last three words in disgust.

He’s far from ready, Madam, and you have that outstanding invite from Millhaven House, it seems as though they want to encourage us to act sooner than we thought possible and introduce Alex to the rest of his peers.

In the hope that he will fail, no doubt! But I have another plan for those sneaky bastards. If all goes well, they will quake in their boots when they witness the power of Madam Sable!

Butler smiled, Indeed they will, Madam.

Havana

Havana sat on the cold tiles of the old barn roof looking across as the figure in black leapt into midair and reached for the ladder to stop his fall. Her heart beat faster as his fingers failed to grasp the iron bar and she felt herself climbing to her feet in celebration of his impending death, but as his hands found purchase her spirit dropped.

She ran a thin-fingered hand through her fiery red hair and tied it into a bun to keep it out of her face as the wind whipped around her. She’d been working for Sable for over five years,