In Bed With a Spy by Alexander Alyssa

Author:Alexander, Alyssa [Alexander, Alyssa]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780425269534
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2014-12-02T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

SHE FOUGHT HER way out of slumber riddled with dreams. Jeremy’s face blurring with Angel’s. Hawthorne. Grant. They were all a tangle in her mind.

Fog muddled her brain. The throbbing behind her eyes told her the tears she’d wanted to shed after Angel’s departure still lingered there. When she opened her eyes the nearly complete darkness smothered her. But perhaps it was only the coverlet tucked close around her face. One part of her mind thought to pull the warm, thick coverlet aside and free herself from the heavy darkness.

But she didn’t move.

Awareness slid into her, a sense of unease that sent her pulse skittering. Breathing evenly and carefully, she let her eyes roam the room. Beyond the coverlet, moonlight filtered in to create silver shadows. She let the disquiet hum beneath her skin for a moment. A breeze fluttered over her face.

Her mind screamed the warning. Move!

She rolled fast and hard, over and over until she dropped onto the floor beside the bed. Scrambling up, she looked through moonlight to the other side of her bed. Fear shot through her as the figure dressed in black leapt nimbly onto the bed. The cloth he wore over his nose and mouth fluttered with his breath.

An arm slashed out, silent and quick as a snake. Reflex shoved her back. Blood roared in her ears and energy pumped through her. She shrieked, one shrill note of fury, even as she grasped the bedcovers and yanked with strength born of terror. The man staggered and lost his footing. He toppled, falling with a grunt onto the soft bed.

She ran, though there were pitiful few places to go. As she rushed around the bed for the door, the man hissed out a breath and jumped from the bed. Sheer luck had her guessing his intention and darting away.

“Get out!” she shouted.

From somewhere beyond the closed hall door she heard a man’s faint call. “Lilias? What’s happening?”

Grant! Her mind shouted it, but her breath clogged her throat and stopped the words.

The intruder lunged. Her feet tangled in her nightgown as she scrambled away. The black knife arced through the air. Too close. Throwing up a hand, she blocked the strike. The blade pricked her arm, a white-hot scratch, and fueled her temper.

Instinct drove her. Fight. Survive. Kick! Her foot connected with his thigh. Bone and flesh was solid beneath her heel. He grunted, staggered, then glanced at the door. Footsteps pounded through the hall below where Grant and Catherine slept. More footsteps sounded above. Servants.

A minute. Two. It was all she needed to stay alive.

Catherine’s voice called out, muffled through the walls and floors. “Lilias?” She must be right behind Grant, only slowed by age.

Dear Lord, don’t let Catherine be hurt.

The intruder whirled away. He sprinted toward the open window and the cool breeze that had saved her life. He paused on the sill, looked back once, then disappeared into the night.

She raced over to the window and peered out. He dropped onto the

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