Spycraft Academy by B. Miles (sites to read books for free .txt) 📗

their watch? Sam supposed they would find out if Apelles ever decided to show his face.

Another hour passed by Sam's estimation and his nervous energy had calmed into agitation and impatience. He yawned. He should have gone to bed early last night. He should have conserved his energy with those shadows.

They could do this; it was just a matter of getting to a place where he could see it and believe it because it was already done. Although Apelles was slim, it was clear that his body was packed with lithe muscle. He was swift. He trained. He was probably an elite in the Varin ranks.

If Sam or the girls had any hesitation, if they screwed up, that one tiny mistake up was all it would take to fail. They could not fail. And although Sam trusted his crew to be proficient at what they did, to be smart about the choices they made, he was also keenly aware that he was the only one he could truly control. And so he'd changed the plan right before they left; instead of Drina, he would be the one to engage Apelles.

The girls. Well, they would help him if he needed it...which he probably would.

All four of them waited silently in the darkened bedroom, passing the time by making faces at each other or playing a guessing game out of the words they mouthed.

Drina had volunteered herself as a distraction. She was kidding of course, but it didn't make it any easier to watch her disrobe down to her small clothes and lay on Apelles’ neatly made bed like she'd been waiting for hours. Sam didn't know why he felt so irritated when she did it. It wasn't like they were exclusive. Or were they? After this, he would really need to ask her. Rosin too.

Twenty minutes after Drina pulled up her pants for the third time, the front door opened and all four of them stiffened.

They listened to Apelles as he walked across his living room. The sound of stoked embers crackled in the otherwise silent house. His footfalls led him past the bedroom door and Sam could have groaned aloud when he heard the squeak of an armchair. Apelles seemed to have a need to unwind after a long, hard day of stealing shit.

Sam resigned himself to wait for another hour. Luckily, it didn't even last for ten minutes.

There was a clunk. Then a thump. And then Apelles walked to the back of the house, sloshed some water around in a bucket, and strode toward the bedroom door. As his light footsteps got closer, Sam crouched, ready to cover Apelles' sight with deep black shadows.

This is it. I can't screw up. I can't screw up. In his mind's eye, he saw Apelles on the ground in a chokehold, apologizing and saying, 'I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Please don't hurt me.'

As silly as it was, Sam held onto the unlikely image because if he didn't, his nerves would crawl up into his chest, into his throat, and out of his mouth to be sprayed on the floor in a pile of yellow and black sick.

The doorknob turned, the door swung open, and everything happened so quickly that it blurred together in a frenzy.

Sam's fingers twitched, calling the shadows to his will. Usually, they snapped into form the second he called them, but that time, they didn't snap—they practically crawled. His legs felt unsteady, his stomach queasy. It was just enough time for Apelles, not currently blinded by blackness, to snap his attention straight to Sam. The older man must have moved toward him or something, he could only guess because suddenly, Drina shot from her place beside the bed and made an attempt on the spymaster.

He watched in horror as Apelles, without looking away from Sam, held out his hand. Drina's forehead collided with the flesh of his palm. She gasped, flinched, swiped at him with the dart, but he knocked her wrist aside and simply pushed her to the ground with seemingly minimal effort.

The dart clattered to the floor.

Drina shrieked, but Mattie threw out her hands and stifled the cry with her talent. Then the brunette bolted to her feet, her eyes rolling wildly around the room, her breathing coming out fast and ragged. She put a hand to her chest and backed up, her hand blindly grabbing behind her for something that wasn't there.

"What did you do?" Sam snarled, his fists balling at his sides. He didn't wait for an answer. He ignored his churning stomach and dove at Apelles, one eye on his opponent and the other on the dart between them.

He hit the ground before he ever saw Apelles move. Spirits, he was freakishly fast, either that or Sam really was extremely sleep deprived.

He sat up and looked at Drina to make sure she was okay. She was shaking, but Rosin was holding her and whispering. Mattie was circling Apelles, clutching her old dagger.

As for the spymaster, he had yet to ask why they were there, nor had he called for help. He didn't look concerned in the slightest and if anything, his expression was mildly amused.

He wasn't taking them seriously, the smug asshole.

They might be first years, but determination made people dangerous no matter what age they were.

When Apelles looked at Mattie, Sam took his chance. He scrambled for the dart and shot to his feet. The silver of the needle flashed in the firelight from the open door. Apelles didn't even look at Sam as he caught his arm and twisted it around.

Sam hissed, his arm buzzing with numbness and flapping uselessly in Apelles' grip. The spymaster spun him and wrapped his forearm across Sam's throat in a punishing grip.

The spymaster's face screwed up, no longer amused, but annoyed. Drina was still in the corner, hiding her face in Rosin's shoulder, but Mattie was right in front of Apelles, her knuckles white around her dagger.

They wouldn't kill him, of course. But he