However, if Yelena found out...she’d probably be upset he didn’t trust her ability to defend herself. Logic warred with his heart.

Hedda had trained him to lose his emotions, but Yelena had shown him that there was room for emotion. And he’d learned love trumped logic. He wondered what his life these past eight years would have been like if he hadn’t met her. Lonely? Lackluster? Cold?

Truthfully, Valek had been content with his life before she arrived. Would he have woken from his self-induced exile? He’d like to think so, but even though he’d had relationships with women before Yelena, they had always been part of a job he was working and not a true connection. Basically, he’d used them to reach his mark. Not the nicest thing to do, but the King’s death had been all that mattered to him at that time. And after he’d assassinated the King, protecting the Commander and Ixia was all he’d cared about.

A sudden thought hit Valek hard. Perhaps it was time for him to be selfish. He should be with Yelena and not up here directing...traffic. The power twins and Maren could take over Ixia’s security forces. He’d assumed he’d have plenty of time to retire and enjoy a life of leisure, but at any time, another assassin—one more skilled than Onora—could show up and kill him. Before Yelena, he hadn’t cared about his own life, but now he did.

With those thoughts swirling around his head, Valek grabbed his travel pack and headed to the stables. He saddled Onyx in record time, hoping he’d reach a travel shelter before all the beds had been taken. Mounting Onyx, he huffed in amusement. In the past, he’d sleep anywhere—on the cold hard ground, on gravel, in the rafters, wedged under or behind various pieces of furniture. Now he preferred a bed.

The road north had few travelers, and those he encountered quickly moved to the side, giving Onyx a wide berth. Only officers and high-ranking advisers rode horses. All others walked. Valek would rather be on foot—better to spot trouble—and he’d rather be disguised as an ordinary citizen—better to gather useful information. But the travel time to and from the main military base in MD-2 would eat up four days of his allotted time.

The days of unlimited time were, unfortunately, in the past. He remembered spending three months just tracking Captain Aniol’s movements. Aniol had ordered his men to kill a bunch of boys to make an example of them, and Valek hadn’t been able to get close to the man until Aniol had been assigned a mission with four other soldiers. They’d camped for the night in a section of Icefaren province that was so remote there hadn’t been any inns or travel shelters.

Valek waited for Aniol to take his turn for guard duty. After the man that Aniol had relieved fell asleep, Valek baited the captain by making slight noises. As Aniol moved farther and farther from camp to investigate, Valek looped around behind him and pressed his knife to his throat.

“Did you think you were safe, Captain?” Valek asked.

“Safe from what?” The captain’s voice remained steady. “A thief in the woods?”

“From the rock assassin who killed Lieutenant Fester, Second Lieutenant Dumin and Sergeant Edvard last year?”

It took him a moment. “You killed those men? Why?”

Valek laughed. “I guess they couldn’t tell you. I’d hoped the three statues would help you figure out the connection by now.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” His tone no longer held as much confidence.

“Then let me refresh your memory.” Valek explained. “Your demonstration certainly worked for the King. No one else in Icefaren tried to ask for leniency or for extra time to pay their taxes. Did the King give you a medal or commendation for your excellent service?”

“No.”

“Too bad. I’m sure your widow would have liked to display it during your funeral.”

“I have kids,” Aniol said.

“How many?” Valek asked even though he knew the answer.

“Two—a boy and a girl.”

“My parents had four boys until your men slaughtered three of them. You should have told them to make a clean sweep of it. Hmm...letting you live and killing your children would be a more appropriate punishment.”

“No!”

“Don’t worry, Captain. Unlike you, I don’t murder innocent children.” Valek had sliced his knife deep into the captain’s throat. One of the benefits to being behind his victim—not as much blood on his clothes. He left a statue of six people holding hands—a family on the dead man’s chest.

* * *

When Valek arrived in MD-2 two days later, he found a stable for Onyx a few miles away from the base, changed into a servant’s uniform with MD-2’s colors of black and tan and entered the compound without any trouble. He located Private Zoel, one of his agents assigned to keep an eye on the occupants of the base. Giving the young man the signal, Valek slipped behind the barracks to wait.

It didn’t take long for Zoel to appear. He approached as if he faced a cobra ready to strike.

Valek didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “Tell me about Captain Timmer.”

“Captain Timmer’s a hard-ass, sir, but his company makes all the others look like kids playing solider,” Zoel said.

“No signs of him abusing his power?” Valek asked.

“No, sir. His company does train longer and harder than the others, but he doesn’t push them past their limits, and if a soldier is unhappy, he can request a transfer.” Zoel wiped a sweaty palm on his pants. “If I’d seen anything inappropriate, sir, I would have sent a report.”