Fallen Grace (The Death Dealer Book 1) (17 page)

“
Let’s eat down on the pier. We can ask Jim to wrap us up some supper.”

“
What’s wrong with the common room?”

“
If you join me down on the pier, I can explain.” Grace didn’t want to express her distrust of Mac until she was far away from the ears of the Angel.

~*~*~

Ridley was finishing off the flagon of wine and Grace had yet to tell her anything. Grace was oddly evasive of Ridley’s questions, and the Princess of Thieves wondered what had come over her friend.

Finally Grace opened up. “What can you tell me about Mac?”

“Mac Cooper? What’s he got to do with anything?”

“
I’m not sure I trust him, that’s all.”

“
No one trusts him. Marcus sent him abroad to get him away from Glenbard and Mac’s false claim as king of the Guild. He tries to make it seem as though he trusts him, but he’s wary of Mac. No one else can even stand the man, but no one speaks openly of it. Most of the Guild thinks Marcus and Mac are good friends. But I know the truth, and so do a few of Marcus’s closest allies. Everyone is on their toes now that Mac has returned.”

“
Why is he back?”

Ridley looked around and lowered her voice; drawing closer to Grace. “This is being kept extremely quiet, but Marcus’s cousin was kidnapped a while back. Marcus contacted Mac to see if he knew anything, and Mac was on his way here to report his findings. But about a week ago Mac found the girl’s body on the side of the road, and she was next to the body of a man. Mac believes The Death Dealer killed the kidnapper after he had killed Marcus’s cousin. Marcus is very distressed, but he’s trying not to let it show.”

Grace put her head down. She had doomed Marcus’s cousin to death by trying to help her. “I think Mac is lying.”

“
I think you’re right, but Marcus believes him on this. Mac even showed Marcus the bodies, but I think there’s more to this tale than he is letting us know. No one speaks openly of this, although a few around the inn know. You cannot let anyone else know.”

“
My lips are sealed. So what are you going to do about Mac?”

“
Nothing yet; I just hope he leaves soon. Stay away from him. He’s trouble, and make no mistake.”

“
I have no intention of being near Mac.”

“
Maybe not, but trouble seems to find you.”

What Ridley said gave Grace a lot to ponder. She thought about visiting Marcus again as The Death Dealer, but it would be dangerous with Mac in the city. Her promise to Marcus was to see to it that no one usurped his crown, and it seemed that was probably what Mac intended. There was no telling how much support Mac had in as well as out of Glenbard, and if she forced his hand now it could end horribly for herself and her new friends. For now she’d have to watch and wait. Her only concern was that when she did move, she’d be too late.

~*~*~

Grace stayed away from the common room of the Angel for a few days and worked hard to stay out of sight as she mucked out the stalls. At night, she and Ridley went down to the pier to eat and practice. Though Grace tried to stay out of trouble, a few regulars at the inn still glared at her when she brushed through for her meals. For the most part they trusted her because Marcus didn’t mind her being a former noble, but a few still held a grudge. None made any move against her because of her friendship with the Thieves’ Guild, but she still kept her guard up in case anyone was fool enough to come after her.

She felt strong enough to return to being The Death Dealer, but there was little trouble on the roads. The festival for Ciro was fast approaching and most people kept the peace around that time. It was like that all over Cesernan, so Grace’s days were filled with hiding from Mac and other angry patrons of the Angel, while her nights were spent wandering as The Death Dealer with no one to catch. But despite all her trying, Grace couldn’t stay out of trouble for long.

Hammer, Mac’s ill-tempered horse, and Mac had just returned from an early morning ride. Mac handed the reins over to Grace. “He needs looking after.”

Mayhew had gone in for an early lunch and Grace hated the idea of looking after Hammer. Mayhew usually did it these days because he didn’t want Grace getting wounded again. Now it would have to be Grace who unsaddled and brushed down the stallion. She wanted to stall for time, but it didn’t seem to be a possibility.

Mac stood by and watched as Grace went into the stall where Hammer was waiting for her to unhook the bridle. Grace looked around for a sympathetic face, but the only one she found was Pilgrim’s. The gelding was often tortured by nipping from Hammer and he fully understood what Grace was feeling.

As she reached out for the bridle, Hammer neighed furiously and snapped at her. Grace drew her hands back and stepped against the stall door. “My horse needs looking after
now
.” Grace heard a mocking fury behind Mac’s words, even though she couldn’t see his expression.

“
Sir, your horse hates me. Perhaps it would be best if I went to fetch Master Mayhew.”

Grace reached behind her and felt for the door to push it open and get out of the stall. Mac grabbed her by the wrist and spun her around. “
You
do it!” His breath reeked of whiskey and his pupils danced; a clear sign he’d been drinking too much. Perhaps this early morning ride was just him returning after a night-long bender.

Mac let her go and pushed her backward toward Hammer.

Grace sucked up her courage. She had already survived worse things in the world than an angry horse. Still, she reached up with shaking hands and reached once more for the bridle. Hammer snorted and stamped his hoof, and she closed her eyes and somehow managed to get the bridle off without the beast snapping at her. Pilgrim twitched nervously in his stall and looked past Grace and Mac to the door that led into the Angel. He whinnied and hung his head.

“
Now the saddle.”

“
Please sir, let me get Mayhew. He is much better at taming your horse than I.”

“
I told
you
to do it.” Grace moved to exit, but Mac closed the stall door on Grace and held it. “Or is the little noble girl afraid of a stallion? You used to geldings up at court?” The way Mac sneered, she knew he wasn’t talking about his horse so much as himself.

Sighing but determined, she moved around Hammer and tried to unhook his saddle. The horse snorted and snapped at Grace’s fingers, almost getting a hold of one. She pushed herself against the wall and felt her heart banging inside her chest. She looked over at Mac and met his glaring eyes. “Please, sir.”

“Afraid of his teeth, are you? Here’s somethin’ to be afraid of.” Mac whistled a high trill; the same that Calvin used to call the hounds in.

The stallion’s ears flattened and he went mad at the noise; kicking angrily at the door and swinging his head back and forth. He kicked out his back hooves angrily and neighed loudly. It was all too close for comfort. Mac whistled again and Hammer continued his protest to the noise.

“Try to unsaddle him now!” Mac said with a laugh. Grace was as scared of that laugh as she was of the maddened beast.

Pilgrim neighed loudly in protest, as did a few other horses. Grace was afraid to turn her back on the raging Hammer, but she was even more terrified not to. She quickly turned and found a foothold in the wood of the wall and flung herself over into Pilgrim’s stall. The wall was about five feet in height, and she landed on her right knee in something that hadn’t yet been mucked out.

Springing to her feet, she glared at Mac. “You could have gotten me killed!”

She left Pilgrim’s stall and stood before Mac. Although Grace was much smaller in comparison, she puffed out her chest and drew her shoulders back. Mac simply looked down at her and laughed. Angry at what he had done and hurt by the laugh, Grace drew a fist and hauled off and stopped Mac’s laugh with one punch.

Clearly the hit was harder than he expected from her. She caught him right in the nose and a few droplets of blood trickled down onto his lips. She went in for another punch, but Mac caught her fist this time. He twisted it behind her back, but Grace refused to cry out in pain. If she didn’t do something, she knew he would break it. Grace kept her glaring eyes on him, though; fighting back the tears and the scream. While he was distracted with making her cry, she used her free fist to hit his temple. Mac stumbled a little.

“
Trying to be brave?” Mac released her and took a more direct road to making Grace hurt. She couldn’t react in time to avoid Mac’s fist as it made contact with her face. She remembered seeing it come at her and then she remembered the blood rushing down her face. Still, she refused to cry out. Pilgrim did that for her. The gelding was kicking his stall door to get at Mac.

The man threw her into the wall opposite Hammer’s stall and held her there with one hand on her throat while the other hand worked to deflect her slaps and punches. He closed the gap between their bodies; the stink of his breath burning her nose, mixing with the smell of blood.

“You’ve a job to do. Take care of my horse or your final moments on this earth will consist of you struggling to breathe.” She continued to beat her hands against him.

“
It’s not polite to strike a lady,” Jack’s calm voice came from the door to the Angel’s common room. He always seemed to appear without making any noise.

“
I know you loner, and this is none of your concern. I’m simply disciplining Mayhew’s stable wench.” Mac stopped and removed his hand from Grace’s throat.

“
Disciplining her in what? The proper care of a mad horse owned by a drunken thief who would disrespect a young woman and put her in danger?” Jack retorted, and Mac snarled.

“
Jack.” Grace held her bleeding nose and staggered forward. “I can handle him.” She couldn’t let Mac best her again, and with her eyes she pleaded with Jack to understand. She was finally free of Mac’s grip, and if she made a move now, Mac would be unprepared.

Jack knew what Grace was doing. She told him one morning over breakfast she planned to get Mac and beat him. She said it was because she thought he was going to kill Marcus, but Jack knew it was more than that. She wanted revenge for the wound Mac had given her. However, Grace knew Jack had little faith in her. Mac was huge, drunk and angry. Trained as he was in self-defense, Jack didn’t even know if
he
could best Mac. He was considered tall, but Mac was at least a head larger than he, with solid muscle packed in his body. There was no hope of Grace beating him, especially in a fist fight. Part of her knew it, but she was determined to try.

“
Shut up, girl!” Mac prepared to reach for Grace again, but Jack threw all his weight into a tackle.

The two rolled around on the floor. The smart thing would have been for Grace to run and get help, but she didn’t want to seem weak in the eyes of anyone. Those who still distrusted her would see this as her attempt to throw punishment on one of their own, though Mac had tried to kill her with his horse. Instead, Grace took up a bucket of water and threw it on the two wrestling men.

They stopped and Mac was the first to his feet. Grace was armed with the empty bucket, ready at any moment to hit him with it. He cast his eyes back to Jack. “I’ll get you soon enough, Mad Dog Anders! You
and
this wench you bed.” And he stormed out of the stables.

Jack was instantly at Grace’s side. “Have you lost what little bit of sense you have left? He could have killed you, and for some reason you were stupidly content to let that happen!”

“I can take care of myself!” Grace caught Jack in the stomach with the bucket and stated, “I have work to finish.” Jack didn’t budge, so she screamed, “Get out!”

~*~*~

Mayhew returned to find a bruised and bloody-faced Grace. She explained that Mac’s horse had gone mad, but she left out the rest of the details of the story. She sat alone, eating dinner in the tavern, and sat as far from Jack’s usual table as possible. She even declined company from Ridley. She would have eaten in her room, but she wanted to hear if Mac said anything about the fight. To her relief, Mac and Jack both kept quiet about the origins of their wounds.

Grace pushed her plate away even though she’d barely touched any of her food. The fight with Mac left her disillusioned, yet again. He was strong; too strong for her. Still, Marcus’s life could be at stake. Deep down, Grace knew it would be in everyone’s best interest to have The Death Dealer visit Marcus again. However, that could prove to be as dangerous as going after Mac alone. She needed to get Mac’s intentions and plans right first. Then she could go to Marcus.

Jack took a seat across from Grace and slid a bottle of ointment toward her. “For the bruises on your face and wrists.” Grace said nothing. “Be angry if you want, but you’re being stupid. Marcus already has people watching Mac. You need to focus your nightly energies elsewhere. You’re not going to get him unless you stab him in his sleep, and you know how foolish
that
would be.”

“
I can’t let him go unchecked.”

“
You concern yourself with Mac later – when you’re stronger and are prepared to fight dirty. Now give me your wrist.” Jack took Grace’s wrist and rubbed some ointment into it. It smelled similar to what the castle healer had given her after her first kill, and she shuddered at the thought. A sea of blood washed over her mind’s eye.