The Assassin's Guide to Babysitting by Natalie C. Parker

Author:Natalie C. Parker [Parker, Natalie C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781536240238
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Published: 2025-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

With the taste of lavender on my tongue, I pass through the door and find myself in a narrow hallway. A single light glows at the end, and I move toward it. The walls are close enough that I can skim my fingers over them on either side. I’ve been underground for hours, but this actually feels like it. Almost like I’m being buried alive.

The tunnel deposits me in a dimly lit room shaped like a cave and lined with soft-looking chairs. In the middle of the room are two people.

“Welcome, Talent.” I recognize Ms. Jones’s voice right away. “I am Ms. Jones, and this is the Saint.”

The Saint doesn’t even look up. He bobs his head in greeting.

“In order to protect your anonymity, please do not offer your name,” Ms. Jones adds.

“Okay,” I say, staring at the Saint, trying to convey how desperately I need to talk to him. Hoping he will look up and see the urgency in my eyes. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Ms. Jones extends an arm toward me, and I move closer, stopping just out of her reach. “Before you enter the ring, you must declare your talent. This is separate from the official registry, which you must still complete when you turn eighteen. Do you understand?” I nod, and she continues. “Which talent will you declare?”

“Bullseye,” I state, trying to sound sure of myself.

“May your heart be as true as your aim,” she says, quoting the familiar bullseye motto. “And if you are selected to join the ranks of Underhill Apprentices, which branch do you hope to serve?”

“Enforcement.” I say it without thinking, but the Saint finally looks up. At me. His eyes hard and penetrating.

“And what is it you hope to achieve by serving Underhill?” Ms. Jones prompts.

“To ensure peace and friendship between talents and topsiders across the nation,” I say, echoing the promise Boss Acosta made earlier tonight.

“Excellent. Please hold out your hand.”

I do as I’m told. The Saint catches my hand in his. He glowers the way Logan glowered, as though by hardening his expression he could dissuade anyone from talking to him. But I need to talk to him, and terrifying assassin scowls have never worked on me anyway.

I lean in, trying to think of the thing to say that will let him know I need his help without coming right out and saying so. Sage would tell me to trust Lila and by extension Ms. Jones, and maybe I should.

“Is it true that you were Logan Dire’s friend?” I say, hoping that invoking Logan’s name is enough to get his attention.

The Saint glares at me and doesn’t answer. In his other hand, a penknife flashes in the dim lighting. At first, I’m confused. We aren’t supposed to offer our blood tithe until we are selected and become sanctioned by Underhill. There’s no reason for them to take my blood right now.

I start to pull away, but the Saint holds on, and Ms. Jones smiles calmly. “Blood is often spilled in the pursuit of peace,” she explains, her voice heavy with notes of ceremony.

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