Assassin's Honor Read Online Free PDF Page B

wearing a sword on his back? Her heart skipped several beats before it settled back into a frantic rhythm. Taking a quick step back, she raised her meager weapon in a defensive gesture.
                "Come any closer and you'll be sorry."
                This time the man actually chuckled. He arched his eyebrows at Emma as a strange pressure bit into her skin at the base of her palm. They were the only two people in the room, but she could swear someone had her by the wrist. The unseen hand squeezed tighter until her fingers flexed open and released the dagger.
                The pressure vanished as the blade left her hand. But it didn't hit the floor. Instead, it hovered in the air just below her hand before it flew across the room to become embedded in the wall on her right. The blade wobbled back and forth for a moment, until it grew still and remained buried deep in the wood.
                "Now then," he murmured. "I want to know where the Tyet of Isis is."
                Horrified, she simply stared at the dagger sticking out of the wall. What the--he'd done the impossible. No, she knew differently. Anything was possible. All she had to do was look in the mirror for proof of weird science. But it didn't change the fact she was in trouble. Trouble with a capital T. She didn't know how he'd performed that particular trick, but it made him even more dangerous than she'd realized. Determined not to show any fear, she shook her head as she dragged her gaze back to his.
                "The Tyet of Isis is a symbol, not a thing."
                "Correct," he said as his mouth tilted upward. "A symbol in the form of a knot often used to represent the Egyptian goddess Isis. But I'm looking for an artifact that goes by the same name."
                Arrogant bastard. He was laughing at her. "Well, I don't have what you're looking for."
                "I see."
                He narrowed his gaze to study her for a long moment. She didn't like the way his intense scrutiny seemed to bare her soul to him. It disturbed her. He walked past her to study the artifacts shelved on the wall behind her father's desk. So much for making him think she was a threat. But with his back turned, she'd be stupid not to make a run for it.
                Emma leaped toward the door. It slammed closed before she'd gone two steps. Still racing forward, she tugged on the doorknob, desperate to escape. The door didn't budge. Oh God, if he could make knives stick in the walls, close doors, and keep them shut, what else was he capable of? A sinking feeling gnawed at the pit of her stomach. He'd managed to squeeze her wrist without touching her--could he choke her to death, too?
                Panic set in. Whirling around, she realized she had nowhere to run. Her back flat against the door, she rebelliously met his gaze as he moved toward her. Large hands braced on either side of her, the man pinned her between himself and the door. She drew a quick hiss of air into her lungs.
                Dark blue eyes narrowed as his gaze slowly dropped to her mouth. It lingered there for a breathtaking moment. A slight shudder rippled through her as his gaze slid downward in open appreciation. She didn't know what was worse, his blatant interest in her physical attributes or the pleasure his interest gave her.
                God in heaven. Had she totally lost her mind? The man had broken into her home, practically threatened her with bodily harm. There her thoughts stumbled. Well, he hadn't actually threatened her. All he'd done so far was intimidate her. Emma flinched as he exhaled a harsh breath.
                "You really don't know where it is, do you." Not a question, but a resigned statement. "Show me the coin."
                "I'm not showing you anything," she snapped. "Except the door."
                If