The Assassin and the Underworld by Sarah J. Maas Read Free Book Online

that it
had
affected him made her feel … feel … Oh, why had she even said
anything
about Ilias?
    Well, she knew precisely why. Sam began to turn away, but she grabbed his arm. “Help me with Doneval,” she blurted. Not that she needed it, but this was the best she could offer him in exchange for what he’d done for her. “I’ll—I’ll give you half of the money.”
    He snorted. “Keep your money. I don’t need it. Ruining yet another slave-trade agreement will be enough for me.” He studied her for a moment, his mouth quirking to the side. “You’re sure you want my help?”
    â€œYes,” she said. It came out a bit strangled. He searched her eyes for any sign of mockery. She hated herself for making him distrust her that much.
    But he nodded at last. “Then we’ll start tomorrow. We’ll scope out his house. Unless you’ve already done that?” She shook her head. “I’ll come by your room after breakfast.”
    She nodded. There was more she wanted to say to him, and she didn’t want him to go, but her throat had closed up, too full of all those unspoken words. She made to turn away.
    â€œCelaena.” She looked back at him, her red gown sweeping around her. His eyes shone as he flashed her a crooked grin. “I missed you this summer.”
    She met his stare unflinchingly, returning the smile as she said, “I hate to admit it, Sam Cortland, but I missed your sorry ass, too.”
    He merely chuckled before he strode toward the party, his hands in his pockets.

Chapter Four
    Crouched in the shadows of a gargoyle the following afternoon, Celaena shifted her numb legs and groaned softly. She usually opted to wear a mask, but with the rain, it would have limited her vision even further. Going without, though, made her feel somewhat exposed.
    The rain also made the stone slick, and she took extra care while adjusting her position. Six hours. Six hours spent on this rooftop, staring across the street at the two-story house Doneval had rented for the duration of his stay. It was just off the most fashionable avenue in the city, and was enormous, as far as city homes went. Made of solid white stone and capped with green clay shingles, it looked just like any other well-off home in the city, right down to its intricately carved windowsills and doorways. The front lawn was manicured, and even in the rain, servants bustled around the property, bringing in food, flowers, and other supplies.
    That was the first thing she noticed—that people came and went all day. And there were guards everywhere. They looked closely at the faces of the servants who entered, scaring the daylights out of some of them.
    There was a whisper of boots against the ledge, and Sam nimbly slipped into the shadows of the gargoyle, returning from scouting the other side of the house.
    â€œA guard on every corner,” Celaena murmured as Sam settled down beside her. “Three at the front door, two at the gate. How many did you spot in the back?”
    â€œOne on either side of the house, three more by the stables. And they don’t look like cheap hands for hire, either. Will we take them out, or slip past them?”
    â€œI’d prefer not to kill them,” she admitted. “But we’ll see if we can slip past when the time comes. Seems like they’re rotating every two hours. The off-duty guards go into the house.”
    â€œDoneval’s still away?”
    She nodded, inching nearer to him. Of course, it was just to absorb his warmth against the freezing rain. She tried not to notice when he pressed closer to her, too. “He hasn’t returned.”
    Doneval had left nearly an hour ago, closely flanked by a hulking brute of a man who looked hewn from granite. The bodyguard inspected the carriage, examined the coachman and the footman, held the door until Doneval was ensconced inside, and then slipped in himself. It