Read Online Among Thieves by Douglas Hulick - Free Book Online Page A

wearing since taking after Athel. I put them on.
    “My lord?”
    “The baroness,” I said. “Christiana didn’t send you here to help me dress, did she?”
    “No!”
    I smiled as he caught himself.
    “Relax. Just answer the question.”
    Tamas’s smile faded. He nodded. His hand moved. He reached under his jacket.
    I dived.
    I went for the bed, where I had carelessly tossed my rapier moments ago. When I hit the mattress, the blade gave a small bounce and skipped off the other side. I heard it clatter on the floor. I was dead.
    Out of desperation, I continued after the sword. Maybe Tamas’s first thrust would be off center; maybe I could finish him and get to Eppyris downstairs before whatever poison the assassin used took effect; maybe an Angel would manifest itself right now and save my careless ass.
    Amazingly, I made it over the bed and got a hand on the sword. What the hell was this assassin doing, forging the weapon right here? No one took this long!
    Oh, hell. He was a Mouth. I was being spelled.
    Christiana must really be pissed if she was laying out that kind of money.
    Stupid, Drothe! Never let Christiana’s people in your place, no matter how well you’ve been getting along; no matter how many years it’s been since the last attempt.
    I didn’t bother to draw my rapier—either the blade would never clear the scabbard in time, or it was a moot point from the start. I simply rolled once along the floor and came up in a crouch, sheathed weapon held out in front of me like a staff, both hands grasping the scabbard.
    Tamas was where I had left him, eyes wide, mouth empty. In his hand was a folded piece of parchment. On the parchment were a seal and a ribbon.
    We stayed like that, staring at each other, for a good ten heartbeats. Tamas broke the standoff.
    “I—I’m—I’m to wait for a reply.”
    “No reply at present.”
    “Very good.” And he ran out the door and down the stairs. The parchment floated through the air to land where Tamas had stood.
    I don’t think I stopped laughing for five minutes.
     
    The first assassin ever to come after me was a tall fellow who smelled of fish and cheap wine. I was eighteen at the time and stabbed him more out of luck than skill as he tried to garrote me in an alley.
    The second Blade had a name: Gray Lark. She had mixed a measure of ground glass into one of my meals. Ironically, it was during a particularly low point in my life, when I was using the smoke. The drug had been more important than food that night, and I ended up giving my plate to another addict. I watched him scream and cough up blood for hours. The next day, I hunted down Gray Lark and force-fed her the same meal. It was the only good the smoke ever did me, and I haven’t touched it since.
    The third try was three years ago. His name was Hyrnos, and he tried to put a knife in my back in a dark alley—a traditionalist. The only thing that had saved me was my catching him out of the corner of my eye with my night vision. The running fight we carried out across the ice-slicked roofs of Ildrecca that winter’s eve nearly did us both in. In the end, I stayed on the roofs while he ended up on the street four stories down, but it had been a close thing.
    Three months after Hyrnos tried and failed, Alden came after me. It’s strange, having a knife fight in your bedroom with a woman you’ve known for years. I’d always known she was a professional, though, so I couldn’t really hold it against her, even if she was trying to dust me.
    Of the four Blades who have come after me, I know one was hired by my sister, and I suspect a second. Both times, I have taken the assassin’s weapons and left them in her bed. Needless to say, this has done nothing to make amends between us.
    The reasons behind both attempts were different, but the underlying motive was the same: fear. Christiana fears I will reveal myself and the favors I have done for her in the past and thus ruin her at court. That she is a