The sharp pain returned by the time we reached the house. I made it as far as the couch. A bright fire burned in the hearth and a bottle of wine sat on the end table with two glasses and a plate of cheese. Valek must have arrived a few hours before me.

Tilting my head at the food, I said, “That’s lovely.”

“We’ll indulge after you’re healed and rested. Do you want to change first?”

Just the thought of moving my left arm hurt. “No.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“A kiss. I haven’t seen you in months.”

Valek transformed when he smiled. The sharp angles of his face softened and warmth radiated from him. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. Before I could deepen the kiss he pulled back.

“No more until you’re better.”

“Meanie.”

“Yelena.” His stern tone would have made my mother proud.

“All right.” I reclined on the couch and closed my eyes.

Reaching for the power blanket, I gathered a thick thread of magic. I wound this ribbon around my broken clavicle, fusing the two pieces back together. A second thread knitted the muscles and a third replaced skin. The effort exhausted me. Drained dry, I passed out.

* * *

By the time I woke, afternoon sunlight flooded the living area. Besides the green plaid couch, a couple of oversize nubby brown armchairs and a matching love seat made a semicircle in front of the hearth. In the center, a dark brown deep-pile rug covered the floor—soft on the feet and...other body parts.

All that remained of the fire was ashy coals and half-burned logs. The wine and glasses waited—a promise for later. No sounds emanated from the rest of the cottage, but moving without a sound was second nature for Valek. I called his name just in case. No response.

I opened my mind to Kiki. Is everything okay? I asked.

Quiet. Nap time, she said.

If the horses could sleep, then all should be well. Ghost?

Out. Woods.

My left shoulder and upper chest ached. The muscles would be sore for a few days. I sat up and examined the wound. Purple bruises surrounded an angry red circle. Another scar to add to my collection. I’d stopped counting three...or was it four injuries ago? Stretching with care, I tested my range of motion. Not bad.

The cold had soaked into my bones. My blanket had fallen to the floor. A hot soak in the tub should cure it in no time.

Stiff with blood and poison, my shirt reeked. All the more reason to bathe. But first a quick check of the rest of the cottage. It wouldn’t take long. I palmed my switchblade, but didn’t trigger the blade.

The ground floor consisted of a living area, kitchen and washroom. The living area spanned the left half of the cottage while the kitchen and washroom occupied the right half. The hearth sat in the middle of the building so all the rooms could share its warmth.

I peered into the kitchen. A layer of dust covered the table and chairs, but the wash sink, cold storage box and water jugs had been cleaned. Nothing appeared out of place.

The washroom’s entrance was to the right of the hearth. I smiled. Valek had filled the large water tank near the back wall. Hot coals glowed underneath—one of the benefits of having a stone floor. I tested the water with my finger. Almost perfect.

I climbed the stairs to the single bedroom in the loft. Our cottage was too small for company, another excellent reason to own it.

My red-silk robe and clean clothes had been spread out on the king-size bed. Valek had been busy. I resisted the urge to check under the bed as I undressed. I’d have to ask my cousin Nutty to repair yet another shirt. Despite a few mud stains, I could still wear my black wool pants. I donned the robe—a gift from Valek. Running my fingers over the smooth material, I verified all my surprises remained in place. Valek always included weaponry with my gifts.

Which reminded me. I removed the lock picks, releasing my long black hair.

After a quick peek outside to check for signs of intruders, I returned to the washroom. Steam floated from the water’s surface. I opened the valve and the warm liquid rushed into the sunken tub. Turning off the water, I banked the coals, hung my robe on the hook and settled in, oohing and aahing until only my head remained above water.

Wonderful for about five minutes. Then the door squeaked and I lunged for my switchblade.

“Sorry,” Valek said. He leaned against the door’s frame as if it kept him from falling.

Had he been up all night? “Did you find anything?”

“He’s gone. I found nothing except those boot prints. No doubt he’s a professional assassin with magical abilities.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “That will be the key to finding him. Not many people have that combination of skills. He’s probably already a person of interest. I’ll have to check my sources.”

I resisted correcting him. What he called sources were really Ixian spies in Sitia, which as Liaison, I’d been trying to stop. Ixia and Sitia shouldn’t be spying on each other. Instead, they needed to form a relationship based on mutual trust and respect.

“Unless he’s a new assassin. Some young hotshot.”

Valek straightened. “That’s a possibility. And if that’s the case, then he chose the wrong target if he wishes to grow old.”

“After you find out who hired him.”

“Of course. Any ideas who...?” He shook his head. “We should make a list of who doesn’t want to kill you, love. It’d be shorter.”

I’d be offended, but it was actually a good idea. “Let’s not let it ruin our vacation. Join me.”