Page 46 of Decoy

He hesitated a moment before his look softened. “We can discuss the logistics later. You need to rest.”

Delaying the conversation only escalated my anxiety. Whatever the cost of his assistance, I feared it was indeed far more than I could afford, even beyond what I’d already paid. Our kiss had already proven I was in too deep, currently with no foreseeable way to get out of the mess I’d created for myself.

CHAPTER13

The sound that woke me was so quiet as to be almost indiscernible. At first I imagined I was back in my cell where the sound of rats’ claws scurrying across the hard stone accompanied my constantly pounding heart. Gradually my terror dispelled the fogginess of sleep enough for me to remember I was in one of the palace guest rooms, and the sounds filling the night were far more stealthy than those brought by my old rodent prison mates.

My acute senses alerted me to an intruder’s presence—their sinister intentions choking the air as their heated gaze watched me from the darkness. I carefully slid my hand beneath my pillow to curl my fingers around the dagger Luke had loaned me and waited, holding my breath as I searched the night. Its stillness coiled around the intruder. After some concentration I detected them near the door, approaching on tiptoe.

I measured my breaths to create the illusion I remained asleep and waited until they were close enough to strike. The moment they reached my bed, I bolted upright and barely managed to parry their blade. The intruder’s grunt alerted me that it wasn’t Luke. Even midst the suffocating tension the confirmation filled me with relief. Apparently Luke was correct that another assassin was also after me.

The assailant recovered quickly and made to strike again. I managed to dodge the first blow, but his second followed more quickly than I was prepared for. I narrowly blocked it by lifting my arm as a last-minute shield, resulting in a large gash along my forearm.

I cried out from the sharp pain, but to my surprise no guards came to my rescue—the corridor outside my bedroom was completely silent, almost as if the orchestrated attack was an inside job…a horrifying possibility which left me to rescue myself.

I managed to maneuver close enough to dig my own blade into his side. He hissed and staggered back, and I used his distraction to scramble for the window and slip outside; though escape would provide him the opportunity to get away, lingering without a weapon would be suicidal.

Once safely on the roof I fought for breath, keeping my gaze riveted in the direction of the window in case my assailant decided to follow. He’d likely entered from the window, a disadvantage of having asked Luke to unlock it so I had the freedom to roam as I pleased.

I waited with bated breath, but he didn’t emerge. I wasn’t sure how critically I’d wounded him, but as underserving of grace as an attempted murderer was, I still hoped I hadn’t killed him. For all my crimes, my hands remained blood free. The thought of staining them now…nausea swirled along with a glimpse of understanding Luke’s own aversions, yet another commonality to connect us.

Killing him was an act of self defense.But the reassurances did little to lessen my knotted guilt. I pressed one hand against my stomach while keeping the other against my bleeding arm. I remained in this position for several minutes, slowly breathing in and out until the adrenaline pounding through my bloodstream gradually calmed, leaving only searing fear.

I’d lingered too long. If I had any hope of investigating the attack I needed to act quickly, though with my delay, that opportunity had undoubtedly long passed—whether because my assailant was dead or because he’d used my distraction to his advantage and already gotten away.

Even if there were no clues left to uncover, I needed to at least attempt a search. However, without a weapon and with my fighting arm wounded, the last thing I wanted was to enter my room alone…which left only one option.

My rebellious heart lifted at the thought of seeing Luke again so soon, even as it pulsed with panic at the thought of entering a trained assassin’s room in the dead of night. But I felt far safer risking my safety with the enemy I knew than returning to my abandoned room to face the enemy I didn’t, so I crept across the roof towards his bedroom.

It seemed unlikely he kept his window unlocked, but considering he’d been able to access my own room from the outside, the lock shouldn’t be too difficult to pick. To my surprise, I found it already unlocked, as if the man was inviting me to enter. I listened carefully to the sounds of his breathing that indicated he was asleep before slipping inside as quietly as I could. Despite my careful stealth, his senses were far too acute.

Faster than I could believe, he suddenly awoke and instantly appeared behind me, his arm trapping me in an inescapable embrace and a knife already at my throat.

“Speak,” he hissed. “Who are you and what do you want?”

There were many things I wanted to say, but with his icy blade pressing against my skin I could only manage a single breathless question. “How do youdothat?”

“Princess?” He immediately released me with an aggravated huff. “Foolish girl. What were you thinking? I almost killed you.”

“We both know you wouldn’t have actually done it.”

He sighed. “This secret of mine has made me appear far less threatening.”

Despite his aversion to murder, he’d succeeded in giving me quite the scare. I rubbed my neck where the shadow of his blade still lingered as I darted my suspicious gaze still adjusting to the dark back and forth between the outline of the bed where he’d been but moments before and where he now stood.

“You moved in but an instant.”

“I have my ways.” He twirled his dagger once before sheathing it. His previous hostility had vanished, leaving him with his usual show of confidence and charm. “This is the first time a lady has ever snuck into my bedroom, but I never imagined that when that day came she’d be not only beautiful but dangerous. Unfortunately, you failed in the element of surprise. Do I need to teach you the art of stealth in addition to that of seduction?”

My cheeks burned at that memory and the feelings it conjured—namely our kiss I tried and repeatedly failed to forget. But though our teasing word spar used to aggravate me, now it only made me smile.

“I wasn’t trying to sneak up on the Master of Stealth himself. Believe it or not, Iwantedyou to notice me. How else am I to ask for your help?”

That seemed to intrigue him. “The most independent woman I know wantsmyhelp?”

“If the most cocky manIknow is willing to give it.”

My eyes had finally adjusted to the night, allowing me to see his twitching lips. “I might be persuaded, but it will cost you.” He leaned closer to whisper in my ear. “Asecret.”

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