In The Assassin's Arms (Daggers 0f Desire Book 1)

by Katherine Hastings

  She sighed and looked out across the meadow to where John’s family’s home sat off in the distance. It looked small from here. She remembered riding up to it with her father and being in awe of the size of it. In her youth, it was the largest building she had ever seen, big enough that an entire army could take up residence there. When she found out it was a family’s home, she had hesitated to even meet them. She couldn’t imagine having that much money.

  John had approached at his father’s side and greeted them upon arrival. He had been so formal at their initial meeting, she expected him to be a spoiled brat. It hadn’t take but a minute after their fathers had gone off to talk, leaving them alone, that John had started chatting away like an old friend. His kindness and his warmth had surprised her. He had made her feel safe right away. He had made her feel protected then, like he was making her feel protected now.

  The baying of dogs pulled Charlie’s gaze to the east. She hopped to her feet and ducked behind a large oak tree. Armed guards raced up the hill in her direction, a dozen of them. Several dogs led the way and it was clear by the speed they were moving that they were hunting something. She hoped that it wasn’t her.

  “She’s up there somewhere!” one of the men shouted, gesturing in her direction.

  “Well, that answers that question,” she mumbled to herself, glancing around for the best escape. The woods would be the safest place and the easiest to lose them in. They were too thick for Duchess to safely navigate. Charlie smacked the mare on her rear and sent her galloping down the hill, away from the men. Hopefully, they would see the mare and chase her, thinking she was on board. That would give her time to get space between herself and the dogs.

  Charlie darted into the woods and raced through the trees. She heard more dogs and voices off to the west; they were coming in on both sides. She ran straight as they pushed her on. Branches ripped at her hair but she never slowed down. The dogs had her scent and she could hear them closing the distance. She needed to get up off the ground.

  Glancing up, in two strides she pushed herself off the ground and up into the branches of the trees. She ran from one branch to the next, swinging and leaping from tree to tree as she kept moving forward. The sounds of the dogs pushed her on, and she was surprised now that they hadn’t caught to up her. She was fast, but dogs were faster.

  Charlie slowed down. Something wasn’t right. They were toying with her by pushing her into these woods. It was a trap. She needed to change course and go in the opposite direction.

  She veered left, but there were no branches to safely navigate on that side. Charlie leapt to the ground and sprinted across a small clearing. She was running closer to the hounds but it was her only option. There was something over here they were pushing her toward.

  She felt the pressure around her ankle and then a swift jerk. The chains clanked as they pulled Charlie up into the air. Her neck jerked back as she felt the sliding stop. There she was, suspended by her leg from a tree on the outside of the clearing. It was a trap... and she had run right into it.

  Pulling herself up, she examined the chain around her ankle. There was no cutting it and her weight kept it taught. She heard the dogs closing in, and in only moments, they arrived with their bared teeth and ferocious growls. Charlie pulled the daggers from her thighs and crossed her arms as she dangled just above the ground.

  “Got her!” a voice called to the others. “Stupid bitch ran right into it!”

  Charlie waited while the guards circled around her. The hounds snarled and launched forward, jerking the leashes as the men tried to restrain them.

  “Go on. Tie her up and we’ll cut her down.”

  “Just let her down. There’s one of her and twenty of us. She’s not going anywhere.”

  “He said she’s dangerous and not to take any chances. Bind her and then we cut her down.”

  He said, Charlie thought as she dangled there. John. He had betrayed her. He had told his father and together they had sicced the guards on her. How could I be so stupid? She thought as she heard the footsteps getting closer.

  Two guards appeared at her side. They reached for her hands that lay tight across her chest, two daggers concealed beneath them. With one swift move, she plunged the blades into their throats. They collapsed sputtering below her.

  Two down, eighteen to go.

  “Jesus Christ!” a guard shouted. “Go get her!”

  Three more men approached. She waited for her moment, and when they were in range she spun quickly on her chain, a whirlwind of red and black that left three more men lifeless beneath her. Fifteen left.

  “Holy shite!” another guard shouted.

  Charlie made eye contact with the men as the chain spun her slowly around, her leather clad body motionless as she waited. Her cloak draped on the ground, swooshing the leaves gently below her. Fear lit their eyes with emotion. She hoped John would be wearing the same look in his eyes when she came for him. And come for him she would.

  She heard a rock buzz through the air only a moment before it collided with her head. She fought the blackness but it took over anyway.

  “Let’s see her fight now,” was the last thing she heard before the darkness came.

  Consciousness returned with Charlie slung over the shoulder of a guard that could be mistaken for a giant. She remained still while she assessed her situation. Her head throbbed but she felt otherwise unharmed. Her wrists burned from the ropes that were clamped around them. These guards weren’t taking any chances.

  A quick glance around told her they were taking her back to John’s estate. John. That lying, treacherous son of a bitch. She felt a pang of hurt but it was quickly replaced with rage. That was the emotion she was most familiar with. One she was comfortable with.

  From the looks of things, there was no easy means of escape. The guard had a good grip on her and the ropes were too tight. She would have to wait for a better opportunity.

  “Get the hounds back to the kennels.” A voice broke the silence. “We’ll take her to the prison.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Two voices responded in unison. Five men cut off across the field with the hounds. She listened to the panting dogs until they were too far away to hear. Ten left.

  They walked past the dense hedges just on the outskirts of the gardens. Charlie remembered racing through them with John, searching high and low and never finding him during their endless games of hide and seek. She saw a set of green eyes peering out from behind one of the hedges. He looked at her. John.

  He moved like lightning as he sprung from the hedge, slitting the throats of two guards, then disappearing from sight again. Eight left.

  “Together men!” a guard shouted, and every man drew his sword and closed ranks.

  Why is John helping me? He turned me in, Charlie thought as she glanced around to find him. He darted out of the bushes and appeared in front of her. He shoved the hilt of a dagger into her hands and disappeared again.

  “Over there!” they shouted, all spinning to find him. Charlie looked at the dagger clenched in her bound hands. A smirk crossed her face. She drove it into the back of the guard and braced herself when he fell to his knees. She rolled to her feet and dove toward the hedge. The giant guard caught her foot and sent her flailing onto her stomach.

  John stood above her in the time it took her to blink. She kicked her foot free and leapt up beside him.

  “What are you doing here?” she hissed, pressing her back to his.

  “What does it look like? Saving you!”

  A guard leapt forward. Charlie blocked him with her dagger and kicked him in the sternum, sending him rolling backward.

  “Saving me? After you turned me in?” she shouted.

  Another guard leapt forward. John dodged left and plunged his sword into his chest.

  “Seven left,” they said in unison. Charlie peered over her shoulder at John and welcomed the grin that appeared on his face.

  “Why would I turn you in?” he went on between the clash
ing of steel.

  “I don’t know! You tell me!” She pushed off the ground, leaning backward onto John. He spun them around, her feet colliding with the faces of two guards, before setting her back down.

  “I didn’t turn you in, Charlie! Why would I be here fighting with you if I wanted you dead?”

  They spun around, facing each other. A guard charged from each side. Charlie knelt down as John swung over her head. She launched left and drove her dagger into the other guard’s neck. Both guards fell.

  “Five left,” they said in unison. He smiled at her and she couldn’t help but crack a smile back.

  “Did you miss me?” he teased, and he spun around again, their backs pressing together once more.

  “Of course not,” she sneered as she leapt in the air, landing on top of another guard and silencing him for good.

  She heard the whiz of the arrow and the sound of it colliding with John. Charlie spun around to see him, stunned and clutching his chest.

  “John!” she shouted as she leapt up. A glinting blade shimmered in the sunlight as someone pressed an unfamiliar dagger to John’s throat before she even made it to her feet.

  “Don’t move. Or he dies.”

  Charlie froze. John was wounded and there was no way he could escape that dagger with his life. She saw the guards closing in and glanced at the opening behind her. She could make it.

  “If you run, I will slit his throat before you clear that hedge.”

  She looked at the opening, her escape, and then back at John.

  “Charlie, go!” he pleaded.

  She looked into his eyes and shook her head, dropping her dagger. The guards descended on her and flung her to the ground.

  “Charlotte...” She heard his voice trail off as they bound her feet.

  “If you move, he dies,” the guard said, and he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. “And if you move, she dies. You come with us quietly.”

  Charlie looked up from the guard’s back when they started walking again. Two daggers, one pressed into each side of John’s throat. There was no getting out if this. His eyes found hers and she could tell he was frightened. But not for himself... for her.

  “I’ll be all right, John. Just do what they say.”

  John pushed against the hands that held him, but the daggers just dug deeper into his skin. His eyes filled with worry as they moved him in the other direction.

  Charlie let herself go limp as they carried her away.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  JOHN LEANED BACK AGAINST the cold, jagged stones in his cell. He had been in there for two days from what he could tell, based on the comings and goings of the guards. His father used to have them work eight-hour shifts, and they’d turned over six times since he had arrived. Forty-eight hours he had been stuck in that cell, chained to a wall.

  “Throw him in there,” a guard appeared at his door, followed by another with a prisoner in tow.

  He heard the jingling of keys as they worked the lock. A long, slow creak of the rusty iron door echoed in the damp, dark room when the guards pushed the new prisoner inside. The stranger fell to his knees while the guards laughed, securing the lock behind him.

  “Nice guys,” the prisoner scoffed, and he tossed a crude gesture their way. John watched the man while he examined the cell. Long, tattered brown hair matched the beard that hung in scraggly knots. His clothes were little more than rags, covered in dirt.

  “You must be my roommate. I’m Thadius Miller. Pleased to meet you.” He curtsied and stumbled backward, falling against the wall before righting himself.

  “You’re drunk.” John wrinkled his nose at the smell of whiskey seeping from the man’s pores.

  “Aye, and it’s a good thing, too. This place would be downright dismal if it weren’t for me buzz!” He doubled over with maniacal laughter.

  “Drunk and crazy. Fantastic,” John mumbled to himself.

  “Want to play a game?”

  “No.”

  “Come on. It will be fun.”

  “I’ll pass.”

  “Tell me your name then at least.”

  He sighed, wondering how he’d make it through the coming days chained to a wall and at the mercy of a crazy person. “John. John Douglas.”

  “Ah, the father slayer. Heard about you,” Thadius said with a laugh, shooting a knowing look John’s way. “And yet, you don’t scare me at all.”

  John felt a mixture of rage and sadness. “I didn’t kill my father,” he snarled.

  “Aye. And I didn’t get drunk and piss on the barkeep’s wife!” His laughing continued and he danced a little jig at John’s expense.

  “I would never harm my father. Now shut up, old man.”

  “Touchy, touchy,” he teased. “I can see you’re a bit sensitive about the matter. Maybe you should have thought of that before you plunged your dagger in your old man’s heart.” He cackled some more, and John’s fingers itched to punch him in the face.

  “I’m warning you...” John pulled against his chains.

  “Fine, fine. I’ll be quiet.” Thadius sat down and slumped back against the wall.

  “Good.”

  John relished the silence for a moment. He had barely had time to process that his father was dead. Just thinking about it tightened his stomach in knots. He should have been here. He should have protected him. Instead, his father was dead, and everyone thought he had done it. Charlie was an air-tight alibi, but the fact that she was a Liberta and his supposed accomplice meant her story wouldn’t be credible. They just had to find a way to prove their innocence.

  Charlie. His mind wandered back to her, as it had almost every minute since he had been imprisoned. Was she safe? Was she alive? She had given herself up to save him. Why? Charlie only knew how to take care of herself. Not that he held it against her.

  He had seen flashes of the girl he once loved, if you can call it love when you’re only ten. That girl was still in there. John was desperate to coax her back out, to show Charlie she could trust again.

  “Let’s be jovial, fill our glasses! Let’s be jovial, fill our glasses.” The man burst into song. John cringed at his off-key voice. “Madness ’tis for us to think, how the world is ruled by asses!”

  “Is that really necessary?” John groaned.

  “Come on, sing with me.” He laughed and continued on.

  John heard footsteps outside his cell around verse three.

  “Open the door,” the voice commanded.

  “Uncle Thomas!” John jumped with excitement, but his chains pulled him back.

  “John! You’re all right. Thank God.”

  “I’m alive, Uncle.”

  “Are these chains necessary? This is John Douglas, you fools.”

  “Strict orders, sir. Chains are mandatory.”

  “John, just hang in there. I’m working to get you out of this, my boy. You need to stay strong.”

  “I still don’t understand why this is happening. I didn’t kill my father.”

  “I know you didn’t. I’m working to prove that.”

  “Charlie.” John sat up straight. “Where is she? Is she all right?”

  “Shhh,” his uncle urged, “if anyone hears you asking about her, it will just add fuel to the fire that you are conspiring with her. You’ve already slaughtered guards to defend her. This is not helping your case, John.”

  “Just tell me,” he whispered.

  “She’s alive. She’s scheduled for execution tomorrow.”

  John felt a rush of panic hit him square in the chest. “You need to stop them. She’s innocent. I swear. She didn’t kill Henry.”

  “I’m risking my neck to save you already. There is nothing I can do for the poor girl. I’m sorry.”

  “Uncle—”

  “I have to go, John. It was all I could do to convince the Houses to grant me a minute of visitation. They are frothing at the mouth for your death, but I am fighting them every step of the way. Just stay strong.”


  Thomas stood up and started toward the door. Thadius laughed and muttered something incoherent before scraping the phlegm from his throat and spitting it into Thomas’ face. His uncle lurched across the cell and had the drunk suspended by his throat in one swift move. He flailed around, his wild giggle never subsiding while Thomas pinned him to the wall, then leaned in close, showing his teeth as he watched Thadius turn an unnatural shade of purple.

  “You’re not worth it,” he growled before releasing his grip, dropping Thadius to the floor in a gasping heap. Stepping back, he returned the insult and spit into his face. “Open the door.”

  The guards jumped to respond. The door swung open and Thomas stepped out. Glancing over his shoulder, he gave John a nod before disappearing down the stone corridor.

  John pounded his fist on the stone wall. He needed to get out. He needed to save Charlie. She was going to be executed tomorrow and this was all his fault. He strained against his chains. The arrow hole in his shoulder throbbed as he pulled at the cold, hard metal.

  “Going somewhere?” Thadius snickered.

  John knocked his head back against the wall. There was nothing he could do to get out of this. Helpless was not a feeling he was accustomed to and this was the worst possible time to have it overwhelm him. Being helpless meant certain death for Charlie.

  Rolling over, he shut his eyes. Sleep wouldn’t come again, but resting his eyes was always a good way to get focused. To clear his mind and just think. He had to find a way out of this mess.

  He lay there for an hour, maybe two. Countless ideas rolled through his mind, each one being discounted due to some fault in the plan. He thought that Thadius had passed out a short time before, the absence of his singing helping John to focus. However, he perked an ear at the muffled sound of the man tiptoeing in his direction. John rolled his eyes when Thadius stopped just shy of him. The degenerate was likely trying to pick his pocket. He rolled over in time to see the glint of metal suspended in the air above him.