Free The Archangel Agenda (Evangeline Heart Book 1) by A.K. Alexander, Jen Greyson Page B

delivery was catalogued and dispatched through the halls and doors splintering off the room to the other areas of the house.
    The door closest led up a simple set of servant’s stairs and I took them quickly, wincing as the old wood groaned halfway up. At the top, I paused again, listening for anything that shouldn’t be here. The wide hallway was empty, save the pompous gleam of the rich floors oiled to perfection, paintings professionally lit and glowing in the darkness, high ceilings appropriately molded, domed skylights superbly gilded. Midway, the hallway opened up to the floor below and a gracious curve of stairs.
    Across from those stairs was the closed door I needed.
    I checked my watch. The guard was at the far end of the house, checking the windows and rooms in the master suite. I had four minutes and twelve seconds to locate and finish and get out of here.
    In my ear, I heard Malcolm thank the guard. That didn’t worry me. I wanted Malcolm gone and at the rendezvous spot before I entered the room. I touched the knife at my hip, a subconscious check and an old habit. Then I stepped into the hallway and out of the shadows.
    The power went out, squashing what little light I’d had in the hallway.
    What the hell?
    This wasn’t part of the plan. We didn’t have access to the main power for the house and wouldn’t have done anything with it if we had. I wanted that guard at the far end of the house to stay oblivious. Now he knew something was up and was scurrying this way.
    I tapped my earpiece, but Malcolm stayed silent.
    Shit!
    I glanced over my shoulder at the empty staircase. If this were an assassination, I’d take my shot and get the hell out. But this wasn’t an assassination, this was a hundred miles outside my comfort zone. I had to get in that room. I moved further down the hall, scanning what I could as my eyes adjusted.
    I passed the main stairs and a shadow crossed the moonlight filtering through the overhead skylight. I scrambled toward a table on the far side of the balcony and hid beside an ornate table and an obnoxiously large flower arrangement. The door teased me, fifteen feet away, across the wide-open expanse of polished floor. I should have taken my chances and rushed inside. Now I was just a sitting duck.
    Movement toward the ceiling caught my eye and I pressed closer to the shadows against the wall. The scratch of glass cutters tensed my muscles and I watched the skylight.
    A rappelling rope dropped through, followed immediately by a man.
    Who the hell was this guy? No one was supposed to be here.
    We’d done intel on top of intel.
    Malcolm never failed, not like this.
    I leaned closer for a better vantage point. It didn’t take any special skills to assess that this guy was a thief—and a professional.
    Dressed in black with a sleek belt full of tools, he slid down the rope like a spider and landed on silent feet. A black beanie covered most of his hair, leaving his face free, but it was too dark to make out his features. I was lucky—had I not seen him come down, he’d have melted in the shadows and I’d have been ambushed. He crouched and pulled out a small flat device no bigger than an index card. I squinted but couldn’t figure out what it was or what it did. I shouldn’t be here wavering, I should be racing through that room, grabbing that ring, and getting out of here.
    But he blocked both my exits and I couldn’t go out the windows without breaking a leg.
    I may be an assassin, but I have a creed. I killed only bad people, and only ones I’d been hired to kill. I didn’t want this thief to force my hand. If things went bad, I’d rather run than kill an innocent, even if it meant I had to try again.
    He lifted the device and panned it across the entire hallway. I froze. I really hoped that thing wasn’t a heat sensor or I was totally exposed. I couldn’t move or he’d see me.
    My earpiece screeched and I jerked, digging in my ear to get it out. Malcolm must be trying