Live to Venture (#0)

30 | The Pull of Adventure

Novari woke from the feeling of being watched.

She wasn't a big dreamer, but she felt it even before she was conscious. Someone was in her corner room, perched there in the dark, watching.

She rolled onto her stomach in sleep, so her back was to the door. She couldn't confirm visually that someone was there, but Minnow had been curled on the opposite pillow when Novari fell asleep, and now the cat had taken to pawing at her ear, as if to wake her up.

It was just a cat, but cats knew things people didn't. Its movement, plus the hairs standing on the back of her neck told her all she needed to know. She kept her eyes closed until the terror of him being there overpowered her common sense. She rolled over tiredly, as though she were still asleep. Minnow backed away, resettling into her jaw.

With her head titled downward, Novari cracked her eyes open just a slit.

He was there, by the door, lean body against the frame, black eyes nothing but a void in the darkness. The door was wide open, him in the opening. The hallway was dark behind him, and the glow of the ocean settled in through the window. The room was silent, but Everson's gaze was anything but.

Novari stayed deadly still. Was he planning her death? Simply watching her? She had reason to believe he might want to get rid of her. With all she knew about his age, his talent, his lack of fear for death, it certainly would make sense.

Perhaps he was planning the best way to go about it. If he simply slit her throat, everyone would have questions. Still, he could get away with pinning it on someone else, if he did it right. In fact, if he pinned it on Bardarian, it might be enough to steal away the captain's hat.

Everson was too good not to fear. Novari wasn't entirely sure she could beat him unless it was the best of circumstances. If he caught her off guard, without a weapon, he could win. If Novari died fighting, so be it, but if she died without a single person knowing who truly did it, that would be a nightmare come true.

If she put a lock on her door, Everson would know she knew about his nightly activities. She couldn't sleep and risk some gory death at his hands. She had to do something. Her fingers began to shake with fear, and her eyes became exhausted form keeping them closed against her will.

Finally, she stole a glance again. He was still there, but now she could see the glint of a knife in his hand as he moved through the frame of the door slowly. She kept her eyes open just enough to see through the bottom but closed enough so it looked like she was sleeping soundly.

He crouched down next to her. Novari's heart began to slow, long and hard. Could she win? She'd startle him by fighting back, for sure, but she wouldn't have time to get her knife. Her mind worked furiously, trying to find a way out.

He reached out and brushed the hair out of her face. She tried her best to not to flinch, to keep her face deadly still. What could she do? Should she move? Should she wait for the best moment?

"I don't know what to do with you," he whispered, his voice low and quiet.

He ran a finger down her arm, over her stomach, her waist, then her hips. His finger was heavy and dirty, taunting her.

Novari's breath threatened to hitch as he brought a knife to her throat, gently moving it to her collarbone. He was going to kill her. Right here, right now. That was his plan. He poised his knife over her heart, and Novari paused in her defense.

If he stabbed her in the heart, she could still have a few seconds of screaming before she died. It was not an instant death, and he was not stupid enough to make that mistake. Why the heart? Why wouldn't he go for the throat?