Duncan Blake froze in place when a sword touched his throat.

“Wait! This isn’t what it looks like,” he stammered.

“Oh?”

The woman’s reply held a little curiosity. But Duncan could tell from her voice she didn’t believe a word he had said.

Duncan’s eyes cut to the right at the obaho man he had run through with his rapier. Shifting his grip, he managed a better hold on the dead man’s collar. Strain temporarily eased from Duncan’s arm allowing him to keep the weight of the dead man from running Duncan into the sword at his throat.

Lifeless eyes in the wolf-like face of the dead man stared at Duncan accusingly. Duncan looked away, down to the sword at his neck. He shuddered then frowned.

There were four bodies on the gr...

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