Page 95 of The Champion

Ganymede slipped into the room quickly. Silently. There was no one in there except his target who sat alone at her dressing table. His target was brushing her long, blond locks and humming a fair tune while she watched herself in the looking glass.

She was beautiful, he would give her that. With lush, graceful curves that were displayed perfectly by her deep crimson gown.

Relying on his training, he skirted up behind her and grabbed her arm so fast that she opened her mouth to scream.

“Say nothing.” He pulled back the sleeve of her gown to show him a list in Arabic that was tattooed onto her pale skin. ‘Twas similar to the one he carried on his own arm. Only the names were different. “I knew it was you.”

She snatched her arm away from him. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to know why you framed Stryder of Blackmoor for murder.”

She set her brush back on her table and gave him a cool, calculating stare as she lowered her sleeve and re-laced it so that the names were no longer visible. “Where are your manners, my lord? ‘Tis been years since we last saw one another. Have you no kindness for a woman you once took with great passion?”

He winced at her words as he recalled the times they had been forced together for the enjoyment of others. The banquets where they...

“I try my best never to remember those days.”

“Then I’m happy for you. I find they haunt me constantly no matter how much I try to forget them.”

He felt for her, but that didn’t change anything. What she had done was wrong. “You haven’t answered my question.”

She gave him a droll, aggravated stare. “Why do you think? You helped me and I wanted to return the favor.”

“Return what favor?”

“You killed Cyril for me. I didn’t remember who you were until the night I saw you leave his tent. I went inside to fulfill my bargain only to find him already dead. At first, I was terrified. I thought you had been sent to finish my list and me, but once I calmed down, I realized he must have recognized you earlier that night.”

Ganymede looked away. Aye, it was true. Cyril had known him. The fool had even goaded him when he had awakened to find him standing over Cyril’s cot. Those taunts had ended the moment Ganymede had shoved his dagger straight into the man’s heart.

“You dropped the note?” he asked her.

“Aye. I went back to retrieve it later, but could find no sign of it.”

He pulled it out of his purse and handed it over to her. “You’d best destroy this before anyone else learns of it and realizes as I did who wrote it.”

She nodded, then tucked it down the front of her gown, between her breasts.

Ganymede stared at her, his gaze burning. “Do me no further favors where the earl is concerned.”

“Nay?” She arched a brow. “Are you aware Kalb al 'Akrab is here?”

Ganymede went cold at her words. The Heart of the Scorpion was the name of the assassin who had been charged with keeping all of them in line. He was the one they sent in to kill them, should they ever betray who and what they were.

No one knew his name or his likeness. All of their kind who knew him were now dead by his hand.

“What?” he breathed.

“I recognized him the moment I saw him,” she said. “Unlike you, he wasn’t kept hidden so much, but rather our captors took great pleasure in trotting him out to abuse.”

“How do you know for certain that he’s Kalb al 'Akrab?”

“I know not for certain exactly. But I wasn’t wrong about you being Ganymede and I know your time for killing Stryder has passed. Remember? I was there the day they let you go and I heard the guards laughing that soon the Widowmaker would be dead. It was why I tried to frame him. I was hoping that if he were dead, at least you would be free of them and prove to me that they really will let us go once we complete our list.” She looked away as terror filled her eyes. “My worst fear is that they’ll come for us once we fulfill our bargain. I know of no one who has lived through completing their list. Do you?”

“Until you, I had no knowledge of any others assigned my duties. Only Kalb al 'Akrab was ever mentioned to me, and I was hoping he was nothing more than a fabrication they made up to keep me in line.”

Her gaze sharpened. “Why haven’t you killed the Widowmaker?”

“The time isn’t right.”