A Question of Will by Alex Albrinck Page B

life is in danger. And so I mean to show him a dramatic failure in this regard. Not only will you be dead, but your home will be in flames. In his emotional distress at losing you in this fire, he will be an easy target for our Hunters.” He leaned closer, smiling. “They have not forgotten how he has shamed them and our group. I dare say the capture will not go well for him.” At her look of horror, he laughed.
    “And now, Mrs. Stark, we come to the manner of your death. Normally, I would simply run my sword through you, directly into your brain, and that would kill you instantly. No pain, for all that’s worth. Yet you intended to shoot me with your little gun, and then you actually struck me with that piece of wood. That hurt my pride. Struck by a human woman ? Such an embarrassment must be repaid. And so instead I believe I will let you die slowly in my beautiful fire, maimed so that you cannot escape. I am uncertain as to whether I should silence you as well, but I daresay it will be far more interesting to have Will hear you screaming as you burn to death, knowing he cannot save you.” He moved toward her. “And now, we will see your legs and arms maimed.”
    Hope pulled the knife from behind her back, blade gripped in her fingers, and hurled it at the Assassin. He was stunned, and though he could move quickly, he could not get entirely out of the way. The blade caught him in the left shoulder, and he roared in pain. If she’d felt his presence and evil before, it was nothing to the malice she felt now, crackling like electricity around her.
    He switched his sword to his left hand, and used the right hand to yank the knife from his shoulder. He stared at his own blood, shocked, and then turned on her again, screaming in rage more than pain. “Now you will suffer beyond comprehension!” He raised both blades now, ready to charge her, to... do what, she had no idea.
    She caught the blur of white hurtling through the air as the baseball smashed into the man’s face, shattering his nose, the already ugly face becoming even more so.
    “You leave my Mommy alone, you bad man!” Josh shouted, shaking his fist at The Assassin, the picture of six-year-old fury.
    The Assassin roared again and turned on the unknown assailant. No , thought Hope, don’t you dare hurt Josh . She’d hidden the boy in his room, buried in his closet under clothes and stuffed animals, with the order to not make a sound or leave until he heard one of his parents calling for him. Clearly, the boy had heard the shouting and had come to protect his mother. Just like the voice in his head told him to . Though she admired his bravery and devotion to her, she wished he’d chosen to remain in place. Now she had to prevent The Assassin from killing her son; she’d failed to make sure the man never discovered Josh’s existence. She waited for the expected attack on the child.
    But The Assassin stared at the six-year-old boy, rooted to the spot and unmoving.
    “Go away, bad man!” Josh shouted.
    The Assassin finally seemed to shake out of his fog. “Stark has a son.” It wasn’t a question, yet the tone suggested he wanted it to be. “It’s impossible. No Aliomenti can have children. Yet here he is. It’s not possible.”
    Hope took advantage of the distraction and hurled herself into the man, knocking him to the ground. She heard him grunt again as his damaged shoulder slammed into the wood floor. Then he brushed her aside, sending her five feet through the air. She landed with a thud, temporarily disoriented. She was somehow by that same kitchen chair again, with The Assassin getting to his feet near the opening between the kitchen and living room. Josh, who had been in the hallway entering the kitchen, ran to her. “Mommy!” he shrieked, his face shrouded in concern as he hugged her.
    A few hours ago, a hug from her son would have been the greatest gift she could receive. Now, she just wanted to get him away from here. But instead, the