Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 58108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
The Straights, at least Mrs. Straight who I’d met earlier, was here. Fortunately, the master bedroom was on the ground floor and at the other side of the house. With my pen light, I swept the beam around the room below me. If I were a fan of Viking history, I’d have probably creamed myself. Helmets, artwork and other old trinkets were beneath cases and on the white walls. I couldn’t appreciate any of it, especially since my father’s life was at stake.
All of the Vikings were dead and wouldn’t miss a dagger. The Straights were well insured and would be compensated for the theft. It was my father’s life’s value that laid beneath me, the jewels glinting in the gold hilt.
Slowly, I dropped into the room until my feet touched the wood floor. I didn’t release the rope as I stepped up to the display. Sticking the pen light in my mouth so it aimed onto the glass, I pulled out my tools and got to work. The lock was similar to the one for the Empress ring, only the security features were newer. I pulled out the slim piece of metal and slid it into the wedge I’d made. I took a breath as I raised the glass, hoping the metal would do its job by continuing the electrical circuit.
Alarms didn’t go off, so I exhaled. Feeling like Indiana Jones and the golden statue, my fingers itched to pluck the dagger from the velvet, but I studied it for a moment to ensure there wasn’t a secondary sensor. I lifted it, felt the heft of the ancient weapon, then tucked the hilt into the belt at my waist.
On the side of the case, a red light came on.
“Shit,” I whispered, my heart rate kicking into gear. With a calmness I was trying hard to maintain, I set the glass back in place, hoping there was only a timer with the lid remaining off.
With the cover down, I couldn’t see the light, but it was an indication I’d been here long enough.
Pulling the climbing ascenders up the rope where I’d been affixed them earlier, I gripped one, then the other and started to pull myself up the twenty feet to the open skylight.
I didn’t have tons of upper body strength. The bulk of my consistent workout to stay in shape involved running and target shooting. I could rock climb, but my skill set wasn’t much on rocks–although it had come in handy for the chimney–but ropes themselves.
One over the other, I worked my way up the rope. All was fine until I thought I’d clipped one in and hadn’t. My weight shifted, and I dropped, wrenching my left shoulder. I dangled far over the floor as I winced in pain.
Spinning, I whipped my arm around to snag the rope to try again. I got it into place, ready to pull myself up, but my strength was seriously flagging.
You can do it. One hand over the other. You’re almost there.
My gloved fingers slipped on the rope, and I dropped another six inches.
Fuck!
I drew a breath in across my teeth and let go of my right hand to reach as far up as I could. I only had a few more pulls in me. I needed to get to the top before my strength gave out.
I nearly screamed when a strong hand clasped mine and pulled hard, lifting me up through the opening.
I’d been caught! Fuckity fuck fuck!
But no.
It was Hayes’s warm brown eyes I met as I scrabbled onto the roof. The instantaneous relief–joy even–was short-lived. Because then I panicked in a completely different way. Hayes was here. On the roof! Risking everything for me.
He didn’t release my hand as his gaze swept over me, as if checking to make sure I’d made it out in one piece. I’d never seen him look this way before. His gaze was intense. His jaw clenched. Every part of his body–that I could see–was rigid with tension and focus.
The air was cool and felt good on my heated skin. I recognized Hayes’s scent on the breeze.
“Get the glass back in place.” His voice was barely a whisper as he pulled the rope up through the opening. For someone so large, he moved along the roof with impressive agility. As I settled the skylight closed and removed the metal grounding piece, I watched him coil the rope and move to the chimney. With his feet, he braced himself between the angled roof and the rising stones.
“Did you get it?” he whispered.
I nodded, pointing to my hip. He looked there then moved.
Hand over hand, he lowered himself down the side of the chimney with the rope I’d had ready. It had been for my departure, but he’d clearly used it to scale the house. He went first, probably figuring I couldn’t escape him if he stood at the bottom of the rope. He wasn’t wrong.