ONLY 6 MORE DAYS...
The man wasn’t moving.
Delphi glanced at the door at the far end of the corridor. It was solid wood. She should be safe enough. Taking a risk, she eased a candle stub and matches from her pants pocket. Primitive but effective.
She struck the match and touched the flame to the wick.
He exploded from the pallet and lunged. She scrambled away, her back hitting the cell door behind her. Shit, he was fast. If it hadn’t been for her training, he’d have his hands around her neck right now.
Miraculously, the light hadn’t gone out. The candle was on its side. The large male grabbed it and pulled it inside, giving her a good look at him.
His hair was long and dark and matted. An unkempt beard covered the lower half of his face. His clothes were in tatters, his feet bare. His eyes were golden brown, like a coywolf she’d seen a picture of once, and just as feral. A barely healed scar ran down the left side of his face, starting at his temple and disappearing into his beard.
She held up her hands to show him she was unarmed. “I’m not here to hurt you.” It was only dumb luck that she hadn’t rattled the steel doors when she’d hit them and possibly woken the guard. He’d been drinking, but it might not be enough for him to pass out.
Still in a crouch, the prisoner studied her. He’d see the image she wanted to project—a teenage boy with a pockmarked face. Disguises were part of an assassin’s bag of tricks, and this was her specialty.
“What’s your name?” Given his appearance, it was hard to tell if it was her target. He’d lost weight and was totally disheveled and dirty. It was doubtful his own mother would recognize him in a fully lit room, let alone by dim candlelight.
He swallowed heavily, his throat rippling. His fingers tightened around the stub of candle. He opened his mouth, closed it, and tried again. “I don’t know.” His breath hit the flame directly, blowing it out and plunging them into darkness.