The Scarlet Assassin

Chapter Thirty-One

I wanted to kill him. I wanted him to feel my knife against his skin. But there was so much more at stake now, and that trumped revenge.

For now.

"Sleep well, Lord," I whispered and turned, leaving his room and going out the way I came—down the servant's stairs, to the kitchen, through the halls, to the office. I looked at that stupid picture again as I walked through his office and unlatched the window, opening it and tossing my pack onto the grass. I was about to hoist myself down but paused.

My eyes drifted back to the picture, brows furrowing. Something was off.

Stepping back into the house, I shut the window and moved to the picture. I ran a gloved finger down the side and found hinges. On the other side, I grunted as I pried the painting off the wall.

It swung open, revealing a silver safe carved into the wall. How original, I thought sarcastically. I looked over to the door, listening for a second to make sure no one was coming. Well, okay, maybe a little revenge was in order, but I swear I didn't plan it.

I looked at my watch. 1:50. I had ten minutes before the guards rotated, ten minutes before we were supposed to have left. I knew the others would wait for me, and if we stayed past two, there was a chance we'd be compromised if the rotating guards caught us. But I physically couldn't pass up this chance. Greed would be my downfall.

Turning back to the safe, I touched the lock. It was a rotary combination lock.

Pressing my ear to the safe, I began spinning the dial slowly, listening to the clicks. They were so soft, so faint, but I persisted until I heard--and felt--the dial catch. 15. I reset the dial and started it at 15 before beginning the process over again counterclockwise. 3. The minutes ticked by and I could figure out the last number. The dial didn't catch.

At 1:57, I applied more pressure and prayed that it worked. I passed 20, 25, 30, 32–there it was, the click. I sighed as the safe unlocked and swung open.

Inside, I found money, jewels, and other important documents. I grabbed it all and stuffed it inside a second, smaller bag I had. Then, I took out a blade—one with a heavy, silver handle and grip—and placed it into the safe. It would take him days to identify it, to understand the cursive initials that were carved into it—SA.

Closing the safe, I reset the lock and closed the painting. I still had two minutes, so I was good on time.

But that's when I heard it--a soft growl.

Scratch that. Maybe I'll be a little late.

Turning slowly, I saw Lord Wailish's Rottweiler on high alert, teeth bared, growling a warning to me.

"Hey, there buddy," I whispered, clicking my tongue and dropping to a knee. His growls became fiercer. I stretched my hand out to let him sniff it. His teeth snapped at me, and I retreated my hand back quickly. Yeah, I'm definitely going to be late.

I could just make a break for the window, but I doubt I'd get it open before the dog got me or alerted the whole house. The other option was to slice the dog's throat, but I didn't have the heart for that.

Instead, I reached slowly into my tiny satchel on my hip and grabbed a piece of jerky. The dog's eyes flicked up to it. "That's a good boy." I handed it to him. Patiently, the dog took it and began eating it. I scratched his head, behind his ear. "Good boy. Good-" He laid down and rolled over. "Oh. Good girl. My bad, girl." She nuzzled my hand as I rubbed her stomach. As I reached into my satchel and gave her another, larger, piece of jerky, I caught a glimpse of my watch. 2:00.