Page 3

Finding this Highlan Pid who had summoned me was laughable work, even without looking at the wanted poster with the horrible rendition of my face plastered on it.

I should murder him on those grounds alone.

He’d made me look like a sweet damsel that needed rescuing, with large doe eyes and entirely too straight hair.

Whoever had described my appearance to him was obviously making a fool out of his ignorance.

The fact he thought I would come if called was offensive enough without that innocent portrayal.

Clients usually came to The Hanging Cat themselves if they were looking for my services, not pinning a poster on the bulletin like I was a wanted criminal.

And those who came looking for me weren't interested in help with someone who was living.

I wanted to know who he wanted to contact, without crawling to his feet.

A few words in the Old Language sparked my magic and melted my body into shadow.

I swept between the guards' feet at the front gate and through the shrubbery to the front door.

The idiocy of these high-flying nobles with their elaborately decorated front lawns was baffling to me.

There were so many places for someone to hide and ambush them.

For the moment, they were very useful for creating dark places for my shadowed form to flit through.

I crept across the front of the mansion and around the corner, between the bushes and exterior stone wall, until the first window of a dark room was within reach to my right.

The wards on this house were pitiful. Whoever he paid to set these ripped him off majorly.

I pulled a dagger from its sheath at my thigh and gently shimmied it into the sash, being careful not to cut into the wood, and sent a burst of my own magic along the blade to disperse the ward.

The fool hadn't even locked the window, so sure of the spell that held it closed to be enough protection to keep him safe.

It was quick work to leverage the dagger against the window and slide it up on smooth tracks just wide enough to climb through.

The room I slipped into was a study elaborately stocked with floor-to-ceiling shelves of books, all leather bound and very academic-looking.

Some even gave a faint aura of magic warding, probably set by the author of the book, that glowed red in my sharpened sight.

Belatedly, I wished I had brought a larger satchel with me to peruse and "borrow" some of his books as advance payment for my time.

Bemoaning my lack of preparation, I skirted the ornate desk carved out of some dark wood to where this Highlan Pid planted his ass in the cushioned chair.

There were two sets of drawers—three on the right and left—but only one gave the same red hue as the books and window of a defensive ward. Another weak defensive ward at that.

"For fuck's sake," I muttered, more in annoyance than frustration.

"Maybe there's a market in scamming Highlans with cheap wards.

" I didn't even need to break the ward with effort.

My innate magic was enough to reach straight through it and grab the drawer's bronze knob, breaking the ward like ripping through wet paper as I yanked it open.

Inside, several envelopes made of heavy, ivory-colored paper were neatly stacked and tied with a piece of twine.

"This could be promising."

Just as my hand gripped the thick bundle and pulled it from its hiding place, the study door was thrown open to slam against the wall behind it.

Little flakes of plaster sprinkled the floor beneath where the handle had likely buried itself from the force.

A large, black-gloved hand reached around the wall, his body not yet filling the doorway, and blindly tapped the touch-sensitive plate on the wall to activate the everflame sconces lining the room.

I remained frozen, staring at the scene unfolding before me, not bothering to duck behind the desk for cover.

Obviously, I wasn't the only one breaking and entering tonight.

Finally, the man moved around from the cover of the wall and, with the most ridiculous crouching walk, crept into the study. He grabbed the edge of the door and made to pull it shut when he realized the damage he'd made to the wall behind it.

"Shit," he cursed, none too quietly, and jerked the handle from where it had been embedded. "Didn't mean to kick that hard. That's gonna leave a mark."

This guy had the observation skills of a fucking log. I was by no means a small lady, and it had been a good three minutes of this comedy, and he hadn't even addressed me. "Yeah, it will. Now, would you mind getting on with whatever you barged in for? I'm busy."

He whirled around, drawing a large hunting knife from a sheath at the small of his back, and crouched into a defensive stance. "The hell? How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to watch you make an absolute idiot look like a Covenant scholar.

" I rolled my eyes and swung my small pack off my back.

Surely someone had heard this oaf of a man barge in here, and I would rather him take the fall for breaking into a Highlan's study.

"Good luck not getting caught. Someone is coming down the hallway now. "

We stared into each other's eyes for another awkward moment, wondering who was going to make the next move.

I wasn't lying; someone was about ten paces from the doorway.

The heavy thuds against the stone floor likely belonged to another guard.

Then, something devious sparked in the other man's dark eyes and a corner of his lips pulled up slightly. He was clean-shaven and deep-skinned like most Resparians, looking no more than mid-thirties in age, and obviously conditioned from some kind of intense physical labor. His black hair was cut short to his scalp to reveal a jagged pink scar across his left temple. If he was trying to make himself less noticeable, he wasn’t doing a particularly good job of it.

Even the most inexperienced of criminals would think to hide defining scars like that.

"Thief! I caught a thief in here!" he hollered at the top of his lungs. More than one set of footsteps pounded down the hard stone of the corridor now.

The first guard skidded into view, almost sliding past the open doorway while gripping the pommel of his sword in the other.

His gauntlet-covered hand gripped the doorframe to steady himself from falling over.

Looking between the two men, I realized the first was wearing the exact same pale green tunic and leather pants, cinched with a belt bearing the Highlan Pid's family crest on its buckle in silver.

There was no way this buffoon was a part of the Highlan's guard.

Which meant we were both thieves in his study. And I was the only one looking guilty at the moment.

"You bitch! Stop with your hands up!" The second guard held his free hand out like he was going to cast some spell on me at the first twitch.

"Good job catching this one." He nodded to the other one, who was clearly not a compatriot.

Even I could tell that much. Maybe the whole house was full of idiots.

"Thank you, sir," he answered gruffly. "All in the Highlan's service."

My eyes did a heavy roll. "Yes, yes, this man who threw one of your soldiers into a closet with a slit throat and stole his clothes did a great job finding me. However, I have no plans of getting caught tonight."

"Now wait just… How—" The one in the doorway seemed flabbergasted.

Another set of hollering down the other end of the hallway, shortly followed by some screams and cries of maids, validating my claim.

The second guard was clearly torn between leaving us alone and rushing to see what was causing the chaos down the hall.

"Lucky for me, I could use a dead body right now."

The man's soulless body called out as clearly as the living people in front of me.

I could feel the very moment he died from the brutal cut of the imposter's knife while I crept around outside, and now his corpse would make the perfect ally and distraction for my escape. Centering my mind amidst the chaos surrounding me—both men tromping across the floor, the maids’ startled yells in the hall, more men clattering down from upper floors—came naturally after so many years of practice honing my skill.

Letting my will be known, I flicked my hand in an elaborate flourish that ended with my palm facing upward, the dark shimmering purple of my magic pooled in its cup that I blew, scattering the magic like dust from my palm.

The magic swelled rapidly, ruffling pages on the desk and blowing past the two men as it flew by to enter its new host.

A low groan permeated the walls. It was closely followed by more horrified screams and curses and several bodies scrambling down the hall behind the guard, shoving at each other in their panicked haste to escape the gruesome situation.

"What the hell…" The guard leaned back into the hall, his head craning back and to the left to see what everyone was running from, and gave his own hoarse yell shortly after. "Holy shit, it's a fucking undead!"

"We prefer the term 'revenant,' but yes, it is," I answered brightly to the question no one had asked. "And he's definitely hungry. They're particularly fond of livers, but—"

The inhuman snarls of the undead cut off the rest of my explanation, shortly followed by the howls of one of the guards that fell into its unforgiving clutches.

I leaned a hip against the heavy desk and crossed my ankles and arms, the perfect pose of patience.

"Do feel free to go take care of that. I'm not sure your men are faring so well out there. "

A rather wet crack and several more high-pitched screams punctuated the severity of their issue.

The guard at the door—who I assumed was the head guard, judging by the black cape draped from his shoulder plates—cursed darkly and gestured to me with a sharp jerk of his head.

"Haul her off to the castle's dungeon until Highlan Pid can interrogate her.

" A cruel smirk twisted his thin lips. "He will enjoy that after all the trouble this one has caused. "

He didn't give either of us a chance to respond, rushing off down the hallway toward the fevered screaming and obvious clanging of swords.

The fake guard and I stared at each other for another silent moment before I gave a casual smile.

"So, how do you plan to haul me off, Rocks-For-Brains?

I'm sure even an imposter can figure out where the dungeons are.

I'll give you a hint. They are usually belowground. "

He was not amused. "Shut the hell up and get outta here."

"Aren't you worried about losing your job?"

"Are you always this fuckin' annoying?" He countered my question in a harsh tone. "Gods, I hope I never run into you again."

I rose from the desk, snatching up the bundle of papers to take along with me.

It was hard to tell how important or relevant they were to me, but it would probably piss the Highlan Pid off immensely, and that was my goal.

That's what he got for sending a brutish knight to kick down Gaion's door looking for me.

"Lucky for you, I don't think we run in the same circles.

Any who, may the gods smile fondly upon you! "

The man rolled his eyes at the traditional parting line. "You sound like my damn grandmama. Now get on—"

CRRRASH!

That one sounded like it took a wall with the impact. Highlan Pid would have some serious renovations on his hands come morning. "I'm gone, gone!" I answered in a singsong and moved to the window I had used previously to break into the study.

As much as I hoped to never see the sleazy guy again, the country of Respar was not as large as it seemed, and even less so in the royal seat of Gilamorst.