Page 65 of Midnight Shadows

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Tarek nodded. “I need to have another chat with the prisoner Junayd captured. Continue your search and let me know if you find anything.”

“Yes, sire,” Selima replied.

* * *

Junayd’s desert home:

Midnight moved quietly through the house, leaving a very visible wet trail behind her. She had removed her shoes before coming inside, and now she removed the pistol from her waistband as she released the tie on her loose linen trousers, letting the clothing drop to the ground.

Wearing only form-fitting royal blue boyshorts and a matching sports bra, she sighed. Killing an assassin in her underwear was not how she had planned to spend her day.

The low squeak of a boot turning on marble warned her that the man she was seeking was in the living room. She cut through the dining room, making a loop to come up behind him.

If the man followed the trail of Issa’s blood, it would lead him through the living room and down the long hallway to the security room. He wouldn’t have much room to move. There were several rooms off the hallway—Junayd’s office, a small library/sitting room, a bathroom, and the security room.

Junayd’s office and the library were on the left hand side. It had a row of windows that overlooked the natural pool. On the right hand side were the bathroom and security room, situated against the rock face of the cliff.

Midnight studied the reflection in the windows. When the man moved into the corridor, she crouched and slipped into the living room. He looked over his shoulder, as if sensing he wasn’t alone.

She ducked in front of the couch. Between the supports of the end table, she could see the entrance to the hallway. Her muscles tensed when she saw the toe of his boot. He was coming back into the living room.

Staying low to the floor, she duck-walked until she was behind a plush chair. She had barely slid behind it when he leaned over the couch, his gun aimed at where she had been less than a second before.

She breathed slowly and fingered the hilt of her small knife. She only had the one knife and the gun Issa had given her. The knife would be quiet as long as the guy didn’t have his finger on the trigger of his gun.

Tilting her head, she listened as he once again retreated toward the hallway. She stood up and hurried to the wall next to the hallway, pressing her back against it and peering around the corner.

The man kicked open the door to Junayd’s office and scanned the interior before backing out. He did the same thing to the library/sitting room before pushing open the bathroom door. It was only a half bath, so there wasn’t much to see. He lowered his rifle, his eyes focused on the trail of blood.

Luck was with her when he removed his finger from the trigger as he reached for his radio. She stepped into the hallway.

His head jerked up and he grasped the small knife protruding from the center of his throat, his expression gobsmacked. His breath gurgled out as he collapsed, his hand still wrapped around the hilt of her knife.

She padded forward on bare feet and looked down at him. He met her gaze, death already glazing his eyes. She pulled the knife out.

“You made a poor choice and so did your friends,” she told him.

She left him there, skirting the living room and entering the kitchen. She paused when she saw the knife set in the block on the island. Sliding her small knife into the sheath on her arm, she pulled out a larger carving knife and tested the weight. It was nicely balanced. She decided it might come in handy and slid it between her sheath and her skin.

In the laundry room, she slipped on the trail runners she had left there the day before. Too bad she didn’t have a change of clothes downstairs. Badr had already taken her freshly laundered clothes upstairs. She didn’t want to go upstairs and chance getting caught.

She was about to slip outside through the back door when she saw movement near the pool. Biting her lip, she debated between her gun and her butcher’s knife. Neither was a good option at the moment. She would have to be closer.

The guy was checking out the growth along the water’s edge. She didn’t know where the woman was. If she tried to go out the kitchen or front doors, she would be seen. Since she didn’t have much choice, she retraced her steps and went upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

The second and third floor of the house were where the bedrooms were located. The master bedroom on the third floor had a terrace that wrapped around the building. The railing was attached to the cliff face.

She entered the spacious bedroom and crossed to the sliding doors of the terrace. They were already open because she loved having the doors open at night. The cold desert air filtering in made snuggling with Junayd a dream.

She stepped onto the terrace and looked down. The man was still scanning the bank of the large natural pool near the house while the woman moved in slow, measured steps along the canyon toward the stables.

If she fired a shot now, the sound would echo through the canyon. She moved to the most advantageous spot on the terrace, sat on the railing, and threw her leg over it. Not having the loose-fitting clothes she had grown accustomed to wearing over the last week made the task much easier, and she quickly began climbing down the cliff.

She would be a sitting duck if she was seen. There would be little she could do without releasing her grip and falling the twenty feet or so to the ground. Neither the thought of a bullet or falling thrilled her.

She breathed a sigh of relief when her feet hit the ground. Crouching, she glanced both ways before she moved, coming up on the man from the patio area where everything had started.

She threw the butcher’s knife. It struck the base of the man’s neck. He tilted forward and fell face first into the pool of water.


Tags: S.E. Smith Romance