Her Assassin's Heart - Book 2

Chapter 36

Nickolas's heart stopped beating. Time stood still. The noise from the pub below died away as the awful realization sank in.

Cassandra was gone. The Chancellor's assistant had made off with the information Granger needed, but somehow, that paled in comparison to the knowledge that he had Cassandra.

He'd failed her. He'd let her come up here, knowing full well the danger of the situation. He shouldn't have let Julian talk him into waiting in the alleyway. It should have been him watching over her.

Something tugged at his arm, but his eyes were scanning every bit of the room in hopes of finding some sign of her. He knew the hopelessness of it, but he couldn't stop himself. Maybe, just maybe, in the wreckage there would be some clue as to where he could find her. . .

"Nickolas!" Julian's voice cut into his mind, urgent and almost scared. "We're blown. We have to get out of here!"

Nickolas shrugged out of her grasp and stepped further into the room. His footsteps crunched on broken bits of a bottle, loud in the confines of his mind. There was no luggage in the room which meant that either the Chancellor's assistant had moved with lightning speed to get out of here, or he'd known what was going on the whole time.

A breeze floated through the open window, and he looked up from the floor. They'd left through the window. That could only mean they'd known what was happening. But how? What had tipped them off?

His eyes were drawn to a dark spot on the floor. He knelt to inspect it. It was warm and sticky to the touch. Blood. Rage tinted his vision, and the world moved at a sluggish pace. They'd hurt her.

"Nickolas!" Julian's shout was quiet in his ears. "You can't help her now! Not by staying here and getting captured!"

One of Cassandra's shoes was lying on its side under the edge of the bedside table. He moved toward it, scanning it as if it could help him. There was blood on the heel: blood and flesh. So Cassandra had scored a hit of her own.

He mentally rebuilt the scenario. She must have come through the door unsuspecting. Three cigarette butts lay in the corner nearest the door. The assistant's men had been waiting for them here. They'd been nervous and impatient if the plethora of muddy boot prints pacing across the room were any indication. There would have been at least four, judging by the broken bottles.

Something must have stopped her from crying out. Surprise and fear, likely. She'd slipped her shoe off, feigning complete calm as though she were still in charge of the situation.

She'd likely demanded what was going on. There would have been some response, and while her captor was distracted with whatever he was saying, she would have thrown the shoe and bolted. They'd stopped her the only way they could: by knocking her senseless before dragging her out the window.

Nickolas gritted his teeth and picked up the shoe. There was no telling where they might take her or how they might treat her. If they thought she was fully involved, they would interrogate her for information, and when she continually told them the inevitable truth—that she knew nothing—they would think she was just stubborn. They would be relentless, Nickolas knew all too well.

Somehow, he had to get to her before they could begin their. . .tactics. He would search the entire known world without resting until he found her. The knowledge pulsed through him with sudden clarity. He wouldn't stop—nothing could stop him, in fact—until she was free once more.

Sliding her shoe into his coat pocket, he drew a deep breath.

"Nickolas," Julian pleaded. "Let's go." He wasn't deaf to the urgency in her voice any longer.

It was surprising no one had been left behind to deal with them. Nickolas frowned at the oversight. Surely, someone as clever as this assistant seemed to be would want to eliminate whatever threat remained to his success. Gritting his teeth, he realized he was delaying them when he should be running. He was no use to Cassandra dead.

Standing and turning around in one fluid movement, he caught sight of the black hole that was the door to the second room just as a shadow shifted and the crack of a gun being fired filled the air. Shouting unintelligibly, Nickolas threw himself in Julian's direction as the bullet whipped by his head.

As they went down together, hot pain blossomed in his bicep. He rolled behind a still standing chair without letting himself focus on whatever injury he'd sustained. Julian pressed against him, her features drawn into firm lines.

"I'll distract him." She hissed.

Nickolas barely had time to nod before she had scooted out from behind the chair, moving with the agile speed he remembered so well and shouting like a banshee. As soon as he heard the gunshot, he flung himself from behind the chair, sliding to a stop against the wall just outside the door frame.

Ducking low, he lunged into the room, ramming their assailant in the stomach with his full weight. It was a big man, but he was surprised by Nickolas's sudden appearance and dropped his pistol without realizing the advantage it gave him.

Without hesitating, Nickolas began pelting the man's kidneys and lungs with punches. Falling into a familiar stance, he moved too fast to offer a target for the other man's lousy attempts at defending himself.

He hadn't used street fighting tactics in an age, but the movements were no less ingrained in him. He fought with wild abandon, and his adversary could only stumble backwards, imagining he could collect himself and gain the upper hand somehow.

Nickolas gave the man no chance. Smashing a wicked uppercut into the man's sternum, he watched the big man crumble to the ground like a ragdoll. Crouching over top of him, his fingers closed around the man's esophagus.

"Where did they take her? Tell me, and I might consider not ripping out your miserable throat." Nickolas's voice was deadly calm.

"All right, I think that's enough." A male voice met his ears, and Nickolas looked up, immediately alert.

Julian was held captive by a second man, and his gun was pointed at her temple. Of course there wouldn't just be one man. Nickolas tensed, disappointed with his own stupidity.

Suddenly alert to the slackened grip around his throat, the big man swapped their positions easily. Nickolas crashed into the hard floor with brutal force, jarring every bone in his already sore body. As the big man pressed a hand on his chest, Nickolas physically felt one of his cracked ribs give way.

Laughter met his ears. "You know, Lord Fulsmith warned us we'd need to be careful with you two, but I've had more difficulty catching a chicken. What will people say when I tell them I've killed two of the most feared assassins in Europe?"

The familiar click of the pistol's hammer sliding into place filled the dark space, and brief, wicked pain blossomed in Nickolas's sense before darkness obscured his vision.

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Well, there's an end to that. I know several of you wanted to hear from Cassandra next, but Nickolas would not be silenced. Except maybe with a gun. . .I guess I can get a lot more work done with him out of the picture now. . .

What do you think is going to happen next? Who will save Cassandra now? Is she doomed to suffer the fate Nickolas suspected or one far worse?

I'm working on the next chapter now, so I should be able to have it up soonish. . .maybe. . .Per usual, I make no promises! ;) However, I will say that I'm aiming for Thursday. . .