The Assassin's Rose Trilogy:
Part 3:
But it All Starts with a White Rose
The creature awoke, slowly. It licked it's lips, tasting the metallic tang of blood. One hundred years of slumber...The damp smells of the forest surrounded her. I have missed these woods so much… Her first blood… who would it be. She closed her eyes.
There was a slim, tall, human female dressed in white. She held herself with elegance and grace. Her blonde hair was streaked with grey, showing her age, and yet her eyes were still young. The eyes of a lover. Perfect.
..RA..
Pauline tensed. She glanced out the window. The moon hung low in the sky, past its zenith, full and clear. Something felt wrong. She placed a hand on her concealed dagger, making sure it was still there. The familiar shape of the hilt comforted her, and she drew out a long breath. No doubt, the pressures of trying to negotiate with that idiot ambassador are getting to me. Perhaps I should take a vacation… She glanced at the water clock on the wall. It is getting late; I should probably go to bed… She stood and stretched, her back cracking slightly, and gathered up the various papers and rolls of parchment she had been working with. Gently placing them on their designated shelfs, she opened the door to the bedroom.
..RA..
Crowley stared in disbelief. Halt gently took his wife's hand and kissed it. "I will avenge your death." Crowley jumped despite himself at the saxe knife now buried in the wall.
