Read Online In a Treacherous Court by Michelle Diener - Free Book Online Page A

at me. …” He shuddered, and the sword dug into his skin. Gripper whimpered.
    “You must have known what I’d do.”
    “Waited for you to leave, din’t I? Waited for me chance. Thought she’d be dead and you’d never know who done it.”
    “Who asked you to do the job?”
    “One o’ the lads back at the Pig, Rhys. But it weren’t for him. ’Twere for someone else.”
    “Who?” Parker could almost taste it. He was finally getting somewhere.
    “Dunno. Some cove. If he wants a job doing, he’ll sneak up on you in the dark to ask you. Always wears a hooded cloak.”
    “Damn it, Gripper. Give me something!”
    Gripper cringed, then Parker saw the moment a thought slid into his head, turning his expression from fearful to sly.
    “I do have one thing.”
    “Well?”
    “He hates you, Parker. Whoever set this up.”
    “How do you know that?” Parker slowly eased the sword away from Gripper’s throat.
    “The man what gave Rhys the job, he said the fee would triple if Rhys sent you to the divil as well.”
    “Why did Rhys give the job to you? You could have shown him the way for a small cut.”
    There was a sound behind him, and Parker turned, keeping Gripper in view.
    Rhys stood blocking the way, his friend behind him. Both held knives.
    “I didn’t want to be seen killing one o’ the King’s new men at his own house. No money’s worth that.” Rhys gave Parker a cold smile. “But seeing as ye obliged and put yourself in this alley, I might just try me hand at it.”
    Parker weighed the odds. He was older and bigger than Rhys or his companion. But they were two against one, possibly three against one. Gripper could be counted on to wait and choose the winning side.
    Rhys postured a moment, flicking his knife provocatively.
    Another amateur.
    Parker lifted his sword and his knife together, leaped forward, and lunged, felt the brief moment of resistance before the sword’s tip pierced Rhys’s belly. Before Rhys could even gasp, Parker’s knife came up and across, slashing his throat.
    With a sickening gurgle, Rhys went down, and his companion went from grinning to white-faced. He stumbled back,a keening note coming from his throat as he stared in horror at the widening pool of blood around Rhys.
    Parker forced himself to move, to give this death some meaning. He leaped over the body, grabbed Rhys’s companion, and yanked him back into the alley. The youth stepped on Rhys’s hand as he was hauled forward, and a cry wrenched from his throat, his body limp with shock, unresisting.
    Parker threw him onto the cobbles next to Gripper and lifted his bloodied sword. It was enough to get their full attention.
    “Unless someone tells me something useful, I’m the only one who’ll be leaving this alley alive.”

    W hen she was this deep in a painting, time had no meaning.
    Someone had put a mug of ale down for her, but even though she was thirsty, could feel a headache coming on from lack of drink, she couldn’t put aside her brush to pick it up.
    She was running out of paint, and she felt the thin, spidery touches of panic that her supply would not hold out.
    She wanted to capture the feel, the play of light and shadow, the atmosphere. All the finer details could be added later. Only when she was this deep in the piece, in the moment, was the reality of it at one with the picture in her mind.
    The men had long ago forgotten her. Or if they did send her interested glances now and then, they were no longerembarrassed or overconscious of her. No one had tried to look over her shoulder, and for that she was grateful. She would not like to cause offense by cuffing someone.
    She’d smacked Lucas in the face once, and it had ruined the picture for her. He shouted so loudly with surprise, grabbing her arms, that her concentration had been entirely broken.
    He’d never looked over her shoulder again, and she smiled in remembrance of the laughs they’d had after that, comparing stories of what they’d done while