His Wicked Seduction novel Chapter 31

Something wasn't right. Ashton shifted uncomfortably in his knee-high black boots. The actual gardens behind the Midnight Garden were chilly and his breath puffed out in small pale clouds as he waited in a concealed area of tall shrubbery to see where the two men from last night might rendezvous.

Lucien had been positive that he'd heard Waverly's voice as the one giving orders to the hired assassin. But it was easy to let prejudices color a man's memory. Ever since the League had confronted Waverly that night by the River Cam, when he'd attempted to drown Charles, Waverly had transformed from mere mortal to bogeyman. An innocent man had perished during their struggle and enmity had been born. It was only a matter of time before someone would pay for the life lost that night.

Ashton knew it was nonsense to lay the blame for every misfortunate at Waverly's door, but the man did seem to have a knack for spreading pain and trouble. Ashton had done his best to remain detached from such thoughts. Still, if Lucien had heard correctly, then Waverly was finally trying to make good on his threat.

Ashton could still hear Waverly's cruel shout from the shore opposite them after they fished Charles out from the river. "You'll pay! Each and every one you! Not one of you rogues will know peace or a long life! Do you hear me? You are all damned!" Their enemy had been clutching the body of the man who'd died. It was a sight Ashton couldn't erase from his mind, nor the guilt lurking behind it. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps they were damned.

It was Charles who suffered the worst. He still sometimes woke in a fit of screams, unable to recognize a soul around him and crying out about the water filling his lungs. When they happened to be under the same roof for a night, Ashton was adept at quieting Charles and doing it so quickly that he never woke up anyone else. It was why the poor man always slept so late.

Godric joined him, crouching down, his boots crunching in the snow. "I don't like it, Ash. This place is far too quiet." The two of them had arrived first thing in the morning to see if anyone had witnessed Waverly or if any evidence existed that could lead to the man or his hirelings. So far, they'd come up with nothing, not that Ashton expected differently. Most of last night's visitors had crept away by coach or foot in the early hours before dawn to return to their daily lives.

"I don't either. It's too bold, too much of a coincidence that Lucien overheard them." Ashton knelt into a low squat, balancing on the balls of his feet as he traced a gloved fingertip over the indentions made by a boot. A pattern of prints had led away from the meeting spot last night just through the area where he and Godric now waited and hid.

"Do you think he has another target in mind?" Godric asked.

"You mean have us scrambling to protect Cedric, when it is another of us he plans to kill?" Ashton raised a brow. "It is certainly possible. I wish I knew how to better protect us. If we scattered it would diminish our strength in numbers, but we'd be harder to find. If we kept ourselves together, it's easier for him to focus his resources. Either way we will be in danger."

"Sometimes it is a pity we have a standard of morals. I for one would love to put that sniveling piece of filth in his grave." Godric's eyes were sharp as jade daggers.

"If I didn't have some concern for the state of my immortal soul, I would have ended his life back in Cambridge," Ashton agreed solemnly.