Seventeen-year-old Zayn has special powers she cannot control—powers that others fear and covet. Powers that cause the Templar Knights to burn Zayn’s mother at the stake for witchcraft. When a mysterious stranger tempts Zayn to become the first female member of the heretical Assassins, the chance to seek her revenge lures her in. She trains to harness her supernatural strength and agility, and then enters the King of Jerusalem's court in disguise with the assignment to assassinate Guy de Molay, her mother’s condemner. But once there, she discovers Earic Goodwin, the childhood friend who still holds her heart, among the knights—and his ocean-blue eyes don’t miss a thing. Will vengeance be worth the life of the one love she has left?
Rima Jean received a degree in archaeology from the University of Pennsylvania. After a dismal law school experience, she floundered a bit before accepting her calling: storytelling. She resides in Houston with her wonderful husband and two beautiful daughters, where she writes, edits, and dabbles in digital art.
The boar she had killed hung by its feet, and several knights and barons complimented her on the kill. She thanked them, her voice hollow, saying that her lady’s welfare was all that mattered. Marguerite cried out, her voice muffled, and Zayn sat up, tearing the grass with her muddy hands.
“She would not be alive, were it not for you.” Earic held a cup of spiced beer out to her, his face drawn and streaked with mud. She accepted it, feeling sorry for him. He sat down in the grass beside her, letting out a great sigh. “’Tis all my fault.”
“No,” Zayn said softly, shaking her head nervously. “My lady is a willful young woman. It is nothing you did.”
“I shouldn’t have left the two of you alone.”
“You couldn’t have known—”
“Still,” he interrupted, scowling. “I was foolish to invite her, to put her in harm’s way. I will never forgive myself. Neither will her mother, Lady Melisende.” She felt him tilt his head to look at her, and her innards quivered. She brought the cup to her lips in an effort to hide her face. “By God, Lady Sara… Where did you learn to throw knives like that?”
Zayn choked on the bitter drink. He’d seen her throw knives! Her mind raced. What kind of a lady learned to throw knives? “I threw nothing but my spear,” she said hoarsely. “Then I stabbed the beast with my dagger.”
His eyes locked with hers as he pulled one of her small, glinting blades from his pocket. His lips barely moved. “This is yours, I believe?”She could hear the ocean’s waves crashing in her head. Her limbs tingled. She would not break his gaze. “Be very careful, Fair Boy,” she said, her voice deadly.
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