Page 70 of The Dark Hiss of Magic
I stayed where I was, nothing more than a sleepy moggy paying no attention to anything other than my snooze. Through my barely open eyes, I caught a glimpse of a tanned hand.
‘Silly girl,’ the man muttered as he reached for the wooden box. ‘Why would she leave it out in the open like this?’ I’d heard that clipped voice before.
I stretched out my paws like an awakening feline then lifted my head and gazed at the man in front of me.
Quentin Hightower. I should have fucking known.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
My movement caught Hightower’s attention and he raised a plucked eyebrow. ‘Hello, puss cat. You're a handsome bastard.’ He paused. ‘Not as handsome as me, though.’
I didn’t miaow or hiss, which showed remarkable restraint under the circumstances. I simply watched him, sphinx-like. A ghost of a smile crossed his mouth then his gaze drifted down to the smashed vase and he clicked his tongue. ‘You’re in trouble, pusskins.’ He paused. ‘But not as much trouble as your mistress. Death is stalking Adrienne McDonald.’
My stomach tightened but I continued to stare lazily at him. I didn’t want him to have any reason to think of me as anything other than a cat.
‘Is she upstairs?’ he asked.
Obviously I didn’t answer, just dipped my head and licked my right paw before raising it to wash my face.
‘Is talking to a cat the first sign of madness – or the last?’ Hightower muttered under his breath.
Disappointed by my lack of response, he sighed and returned the silphium to the coffee table before walking quietlyout of the room. I stretched my legs, hopped off the chair and followed him, fighting the urge to attack his ankles with my claws and fangs.
It was galling that Hightower had managed to fool me so effectively into thinking he was an idiot. He was an extraordinarily convincing actor – and that made me want to lash out at him in a daft bid to regain the upper hand. But he’d killed three people; he’d have no qualms about killing a cat. I had to be patient.
Hightower gave a cursory glance into the downstairs rooms. Satisfied they were empty, he headed upstairs, treading lightly on the thick carpet. I waited until he’d reached the first-floor landing then backed away and hawked up the hairball so I could return to human form.
It wouldn’t take Hightower long to scour the upstairs rooms so I had to be quick; in fact, my legs and arms were still twitching with involuntary spasms when I ran after him, balancing on my toes to avoid making any noise. It was only when I reached the first floor that I was in full control of my body again.
That was when I slid out my dagger from the strap between my shoulders. I’d saved Quentin Hightower before, but now I would kill him. Easy come. Easy go.
There was a particular art to assassinating witches. EEL employees agreed that it was best done from a distance because, even if you possessed magic, you were taking a risk by getting up close and personal to them. You could never know for certain what magical tricks they might have hidden up their sleeves. Any hint of suspicion on a powerful witch’s part, and an assassin would more likely end up injured or dead long before the target could be killed.
At that moment, however, distance was a luxury I couldn’t afford. It wasn’t completely disastrous. Regardless of whoHightower was or what hidden magic and intelligence lurked beneath his silly clothes and ridiculous pronouncements, he wasn’t a god. It wouldn’t be too hard to creep up from behind and take him unawares. Slitting his throat would be best, and it would be a swift and relatively painless death. Given the circumstances, it was far better than he deserved.
The faint creak from one of the rooms on the right told me that Hightower was snooping around Adrienne’s bedroom. He Who Guards appeared from the room opposite, his expression leaving little to the imagination. He wanted me to get a move on and deal with the intruder as quickly as possible. I gestured for him to be patient then I tiptoed into the bedroom.
Quentin Hightower’s back was to me. He had opened the wide, oak wardrobe doors and was gazing at the contents.You won’t find any silphium seeds in there, I told him silently.And you won’t find Adrienne hiding in the corner.
I adjusted my grip on the dagger and moved forward. I was within striking distance when, unfortunately, Quentin Hightower turned his head. He stared at me in shock. I didn’t waste my time but simply raised my dagger and slashed it towards his exposed neck.
The tip of the blade pierced his skin and slid into his flesh but Hightower recovered faster than I had anticipated. He reached into his pocket, drew out a pinch of powder and tossed it at me. The spell – whatever it was – wrenched the dagger from my grasp with enough force for it to fly several metres through the air. It landed on the floor somewhere behind me to my left.
Damn it. Schoolgirl error: you should never ever allow your only weapon to leave your hand.
I leapt to the left, planning to retrieve the dagger and finish what I’d started, but Hightower was ready for that. He followed up his first blast with a second, more focused burstof magical power that slammed into my chest and sent me thudding to the floor. I banged my head on the way down and pain reverberated through every inch of my body. This was getting annoying. I’d had the element of surprise on my side – it should have been over by now.
Once upon a time I could have leapt to my feet without using my hands, but I didn’t even attempt that now. Instead I rolled and solved two problems in one go: I avoided Hightower’s third magic attack and scooted closer to my dagger. It was underneath Adrienne’s bed and I would have to stretch my fingers to grab it, but it wasn’t far away. My titanium-coated darling would be back with me soon.
‘You again,’ Hightower whispered.
Yep. I didn’t reply: I wasn’t there to chat. Instead I moved to block his view of the fallen dagger. If I could curl my fingers around the hilt, I could throw it at his head. That would certainly stop him talking.
‘You saved my life,’ he continued.
We all made mistakes. I manoeuvred my arm behind my back and my fingertips scraped the dagger’s cool metal hilt, but I wasn’t close enough. I allowed my gaze to meet Hightower’s dark eyes and shifted another couple of inches backwards.
