The Angel's Assassin Read Online Free PDF Page A

plain. Her gentle beauty would pull at
most men’s hearts and he had to admit, albeit reluctantly, it had even struck a
chord in his own dead one.
    “Do you try to
appeal to my vanity?” she asked teasingly.
    “Nay, I do not
think it possible. I speak merely the truth.”
    Annabel tilted her
head as she pondered his words. “I thank you, good sir, I shall not preen and
simper under your compliments as I fear you would not appreciate it, but your
words are valued no less.”
    He nodded briefly,
grateful the exchange had ended. His mouth had seemed to run away with him, his
sense of control slowly slipping beyond his grasp, and it made him tremendously
uncomfortable. How long had they been running? A mere two nights. And already
he had revealed more to her than any other person alive. Still, that would be
resolved soon enough, he surmised morbidly.
    “You should sleep
now, my lady.”
    Disappointment
flickered over her face in the firelight and Nicholas wondered what he had done
wrong. Women were not exactly his strong point but in truth people generally
confused him. They were so governed by their emotions. Love…hate…he didn’t
understand any of it.
    As Annabel settled
herself in her mantle Nicholas rubbed a hand across his brow, watching her
surreptitiously beneath it. She curled up, tucking her gentle hands beneath her
head and glancing up at him with a shy smile before closing her eyes.
    Once he was assured
he would not be subject to any more of her disconcerting scrutiny, he relaxed a
little, throwing one arm across his knee and dropping his head slightly. He
wouldn’t sleep. The forests were too dangerous for that but he was used to
functioning with little rest, moving from job to job.  
    Even as a boy he
had taken to wandering off for days on end. His guardian had paid little
interest to his whereabouts, more often than not grateful to be rid of such a
solemn child. It reached the point where his godfather would be angry if he
came across him and Nicholas spent more and more time away from home, fending
for himself until such a time came that he could be fostered to another family
to learn the ways of a knight.
    As a child he had
pondered as to why his parent’s would leave him in the custody of such an
uncaring man, but he knew virtually naught of his mother and father so mayhap
they were no different. Nicholas scowled into the glow of the flames. Such
thoughts rarely occurred to him as an adult and, with a look to his slumbering
charge, he realised that it was Annabel who was the source of his reflections.
    He tried to resist
glances to her as she slumbered but his eyes were relentlessly drawn towards
her. She fidgeted constantly and he kept expecting her to awaken, but she
remained asleep, small mewling noises escaping her lips and making him jump in
the silence of the night. Her graceless manner of sleeping would have amused
him, if he had been capable of taking enjoyment in such things. Her mouth
dropped open and he shook his head. How did she still manage to look so
exquisite when anyone else would have looked a fool?
    His thoughts became
more jumbled as he fought the urge to sleep and images of Annabel haunted his
mind. Warm and willing in his arms, laughing and joyful. Then, as he pulled
himself back out, the nature of his duty would return to him and the images
would be replaced with more morbid ones. He clenched his jaw. It seemed a shame
that such a bright light should be snuffed out by his own hand. But why should
he care? Before long she would be one more nameless, faceless person in his
mind and he would be doing her a favour. Light and laughter had no place in
this world.
    Annabel grumbled
slightly as she tossed from one side to the other and he stared at her grimly.
It would be painless, he decided. If he could do but one thing for her, then he
would make it easy. And for him. For he did not want to see the trust in her
eyes shattered as she recognised his betrayal of her.

Chapter 3
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