The Iron Butterfly (Iron Butterfly #1)(53)

Looking at the fresh paint smearing her face I knew that I had little time, because both of the targets were at that moment in the library. Not about to take them both on at once, I took the servant stairs toward my room.

Stopping a few feet from my door I knelt and pressed my cheek to the cold marble floor. The dust hadn’t been disturbed; no one had entered my room … yet.

Slipping into the room across the hall from mine, I closed the door with a quiet click. Turning my back toward the door, I glanced around the empty room to check for any signs of intruders. This room wasn’t occupied, but it was a complete mirror of my own room, except that it was empty.

Seeing that the armoire door was open and empty and doing a quick check under the bed, I moved back to the door and kneeled in front of the keyhole so I could spy on my own room. Pulling another sleeping potion from my pouch I waited, with the intention of throwing the jar at whoever tried to enter, while I hid behind a locked door until they fell asleep.

All of the excitement was filling me with adrenaline, and I realized I was no longer afraid. I licked my lips in anticipation as a thought hit me. I enjoyed being the predator, instead of the prey.

My fingers itched with the eagerness to act, and I felt a bubble of self-pride filling my body. Reflecting on my earlier conquest, I did a quick tally; I took down two Captains, Joss took down two, which left the one SwordBrother.

I felt a trickle of fear and confusion as I did the math again. There was only supposed to be one left, but replaying Syrani’s conversation again in my head, that she followed one and was attacked by another, that left two. Something wasn’t adding up.

It was then I felt the light breeze brushing the hair on the back of my neck and I froze. Turning toward the window, a black outline of a man’s form was stepping slowly down from the window sill.

Mentally I cussed at myself for not checking and locking the window. The figure pulled out the fake knife and advanced toward me with purpose. Quick as I could, I threw the jar at him and rolled away from the door, trying to put as much distance between myself and the man.

He expertly darted out his hand and caught the jar in midair, bringing it down and pocketing it. Without wasting any more time, he lunged at me. Shocked that he caught it, I couldn’t do much more than grab my own dyed knife in hope that I could stab him first. Jumping backwards I evaded the first lunge with the knife but I was cornered and I had stupidly moved away from my only exit.

Trying to make a run for it I dashed for the window that he had entered and felt the slash of the knife strike my arm. Realizing that it would count as a hit, I quit running.

“Darn it,” I said, turning toward him and grabbing my arm where he slashed it. “That will definitely count. I’m dead and you win!” I held out my hand to him in a congratulatory handshake, when I realized my palm was covered in red paint, not green. It took a moment to realize it wasn’t paint, but blood.

Feeling my breath catch in my throat, I looked up at the person who I was extending my hand to.

He was short, unshaven and had greasy dark hair. I didn’t recognize him but his smile held pure evil as he chuckled at me.

“You’re absolutely right,” he said in a sinister voice. “You are dead.”

I stood frozen to one spot, fear radiating off of me in waves that I was projecting to my horse.

The man moved toward me swinging his knife. I couldn’t move.

Faraway physically took control over my mind and body and pushed me out of the way of the downward thrust of the knife. The knife sliced at my cloak and I regained control of my body and senses and moved into action, mentally thanking my horse for saving me, twice.

I leapt to the far side of a table, using it as a barricade between us as I tried to maneuver myself toward the door, but he just kept coming. I glanced to the window which led to a forty foot drop that I knew I couldn’t survive.

Grabbing the last sleep scent jar I had, I threw it at him as hard as I could. The killer ducked and it crashed into the far wall, too far away to do any good.

That was it, I was out of options.

In a last-ditch effort, I shoved the table as hard as I could into his stomach. He grunted and doubled over in pain. Sprinting toward the door I gripped the door handle and began to turn it, only to realize it was still locked.

Turning the lock I was able to open the door when my attacker yanked me back into the room by my hair, tossing me across the floor. I slid until my back crashed into the armoire followed by the loud crack of my skull hitting it as well.

Stars filled my vision and pain screamed through my head as I painfully watched him close the door. I was so close! Just a few more seconds and I could have escaped. Now my body was throbbing, I had problems focusing and darkness filled my vision. It didn’t last long as the blackness faded into the form of the man looming over me with his bloodstained knife.

“Please!” I begged. “You don’t have to kill me.”

“Yes, I do. Raven is afraid you’ll regain your memories and reveal us.” He kneeled down in front of me.

My hands flew out in defense, hitting him to keep him as far away as possible.

“You are a costly loose end. You need to be disposed of.”

The moon chose that moment to go behind a cloud and we lost all light.

Grabbing the dirty hand that held the knife I tried to pull it from his grasp, but he was stronger than me. Losing the battle I kicked, scratched and finally bit his arm until the taste of blood flowed into my mouth.