Two small splotches reddened her cheeks.
Gotcha. “You shouldn’t have threatened Janco. That tipped me off that you were armed.”
Keeping her mouth shut, she nodded.
“Experience counts for more than you think.” Valek rubbed his chest, remembering when he’d hunted Ambrose, believing it would be an easy kill. “I know you don’t believe me. You won’t believe me until you’re standing here, facing some young hotshot determined to take your job.”
“Are you saying you’ve just realized this now?”
He laughed. “Oh no. I’ve been facing young hotshots since the takeover twenty-three years ago. You are not the first to challenge me.”
“No. I’ll be the last.”
“That has yet to be determined. Let’s see how you do working with Ari and Janco before I turn over my office keys.”
She moved to leave, then paused. “How...? What is the best way to work with them?”
Ah progress. “Listen to them. They’ve years of experience, but don’t be afraid to speak up if you have a better idea. They might not like it, but they know a good idea when they hear one. Even Janco. He’s used to listening to the voice of reason.”
“And that’s Ari’s voice.”
“Yes. Unless Ari’s being emotional. Then he can be very unreasonable.” Valek watched for a reaction.
Onora pressed her lips together. “Nothing wrong with emotion.”
He’d hit a nerve. “Only at the right time and place.” Yelena had taught him that. “But when Ari gets into his protective mode, he will rush into danger without a thought to his own survival.”
“Why is that bad?”
“Since you have to ask, I’m guessing that was part of the training you didn’t agree with Hedda about.”
“Emotion gives us strength.”
“At the right time and place.”
She shook her head as if he couldn’t possibly understand.
“It’s the reason you lost last night.”
“I lost because you cheated,” she said, anger stiffening her posture.
“Keep thinking that. Then I won’t have to worry about finding another job.”
Onora spun on her heel and left without another word.
Valek returned to his desk. Contemplating their conversation, he dug through the reports. Onora’s comment—emotion gives us strength—repeated in his mind.
* * *
During the second stage of his assassin training, Valek hadn’t been able to beat T-quin in hand to hand despite hours of practice and lifting weights until his muscles shook with exhaustion.
In order to move to the next level, he had to win a match against T-quin. Their fights lasted longer and longer, but always ended the same.
“Pinned you, Wanna Be.” T-quin pressed his knees into Valek’s shoulders, proving his point. He released him and stood. Sweat coated his chest and soaked his hair. He puffed from the exertion, but offered Valek a hand up.
Valek ignored it as anger pulsed through him. He sprang to his feet ready to try again.
“That’s enough for now, Wanna Be. I don’t want to injure you,” T-quin said.
“No. I almost had you. You can’t stop now.”
“All right, but don’t go crying to Hedda if I break your leg.”
They faced each other. Both stood in fighting stances. Dark purple bruises stained Valek’s knuckles and circles of red, green and black bruising marked his chest, arms and thighs where T-quin had punched or kicked him.
T-quin shuffled forward and snapped his foot out. Valek blocked the blow with his forearm and countered with a roundhouse kick. T-quin sidestepped and received only a glancing blow. But Valek didn’t wait for a counterstrike. He hooked his foot behind T-quin’s ankle and yanked. T-quin hit the ground rolling. Valek chased him, but he sprang to his feet and, using Valek’s momentum, flipped Valek over his head. His breath whooshed from his lungs as he landed.
T-quin laughed. “So predictable, Wanna Be. You’ve no imagination.”
Fury gave Valek a surge of energy. He scrambled to his feet and rushed his opponent. T-quin once again dipped and threw Valek over his shoulder.
The match continued. T-quin taunted and Valek attacked only to end up on the ground.
“Pinned, again,” T-quin said, digging his heels into Valek’s hips.
Valek lumbered to his feet. Battered with bruises on top of bruises, he shuffled over to the water pitcher for a drink.
“Lose the anger,” Hedda said.
He jerked in surprise. No sound warned of her approach, and he hadn’t known she had watched his match against T-quin.
She regarded him with a frankness he’d learned to admire.
“But T-quin—”
“This has nothing to do with T-quin or your vendetta. T-quin is baiting you on purpose. When you get angry, you make mistakes. Mistakes he can use to his advantage. And you are very quick to anger.”
He drew breath to argue, but she had a point. Fury at the King, the soldiers and even his parents had fueled his desire to learn and improve his skills.
“Lose the anger, then lose all those other annoying emotions while you’re at it. In order to be an assassin, you must be rational, logical, cunning, ruthless and emotionless. Those soft feelings have no place in an assassin’s heart or head. They make you weak.”
While he agreed with her, he’d been holding on to his passion for revenge for so long, he worried he’d lose his desire to see the King’s blood on his hands.