Tangled Web by Crista McHugh Page B

and she still had no idea which one to use. Why was Titus so hard to kill?
    Because you’re a glutton for the way he makes you feel , the voice inside her head answered. You want more .
    She slammed the trunk closed and rested her chin on her arms. She hated admitting that little voice was right. She wanted to know more about this riddle named Titus. She wanted to know why the others feared him. And she begrudgingly wanted to know if he would live up to his boast that he could bring her pleasure.
    “The longer I wait, the harder this will be,” she said to herself and ran her fingers through her hair. A glance at the sun told her the slaves would be there soon to help her bathe and dress for the evening.
    The trunk reopened with a low moan that matched the one welling up in her chest. Business came before pleasure. She surveyed what tools she’d managed to sneak into the palace and tried to imagine how effective they would be.
    She already knew she couldn’t bring herself to strangle him, as much as it disgusted her to admit. That left disguised blades and poison, both of which would drain the life from him within seconds. This was what she needed. Something fast and painless that would leave her no chance to second guess herself.
    Her fingertips grazed a golden comb with three polished ovals of lapis embedded into the metal. She picked it up and felt for the latch on the back. The tines fell away, exposing the dull, grey needles hidden inside them.
    Azurha held them up to the light, mesmerized by their deadly beauty. The sharp points had never failed to pierce any skin, no matter how tough and calloused it seemed. Out of necessity, she’d once used them to punch dozens of holes into a man’s throat, slowly turning his windpipe into a sieve until he died. But her favorite use for this comb was injecting poison into an unsuspecting victim. The thin needles caused the brief sensation of a bug bite before the poison took effect. The victim usually crumpled to the ground by the time he slapped the imperceptible wound.
    A slow smile curled on her lips. Yes, this would do for tonight. Titus would be dead before he knew what hit him, and he wouldn’t stare back at her with shock or betrayal in his eyes while the light in them dimmed.
    She retrieved a small vial of her most potent poison and dipped each needle into it. Then she replaced the carefully designed sheath, covering the coated needles in the tines of the comb.
    Waves of nausea rolled around in her stomach when she laid the comb aside with her dress for the evening. She was losing her appetite for killing. After tonight, she’d retire and try her hand at growing grapes in some hidden estate. She curled up on the small bed and closed her eyes. The soothsayer’s words echoed in her mind.
    You’ll never find a knot you can’t unravel .
    …
    The slaves woke her later that evening and attended to her bath. When they arranged her hair, Azurha insisted on placing the comb herself. The last thing she wanted was one of them to discover the small latch and accidently prick themselves. She wouldn’t be able to cover the instant death up with a flimsy excuse, and with witnesses present, she couldn’t slip out of the palace without raising an alarm.
    Once they left her dressed and ready to attend the emperor, she tested the strength of her silk veil. It was the closest thing she had to a rope for her escape.
    A click sounded from the door, and Varro entered, casting her an approving glance. “Emperor Sergius requests your presence in his chambers.”
    She smiled. “Was there any doubt he would?”
    The corners of the servant’s mouth twitched. “He could claim exhaustion from the day’s events.”
    “Did something bad happen?” she asked as she followed him out into the corridor.
    “His duties as emperor demand much from him.”
    She heaved a sigh at Varro’s cryptic response. Apparently, the servant’s loyalty to the Imperial family extended to his tight lips. If