Warning! Contains Mild Sexual themes.


Her vision blurred as she pulled off the colossal effort of opening her eyes. Her head felt as if it were about to spilt open and she dangled on the prospect of unconsciousness. She was hanging upside down, her hands bound behind her back. She had been stripped to her garments, her beloved robes lying in a bundle on top of a table beside her. The stab wound wasn't deep, it hurt a little but it was merely a flesh wound. Her weapons were not even in the room and she started swinging her head from side to side, hoping to find some sort of weapon. There were none, just like she had expected. Lucy Thorne knew exactly who she was and what she was capable of.

Realizing that escape was not an option, Evie began to observe her surroundings. The room was extremely small and dingy. Filthy curtains hung to the windows and the faint light behind them told Evie that it was most likely dusk.

How long was I unconscious for?

A sturdy door hung to the doorframe and shelves were lined up against the wall. She was in some sort of storeroom. Wondering if she could overstrain her binds, she jerked her body upward, pulling her hands apart with force. A sharp pain flared on her stomach and she gasped out loud. The involuntary noise echoed inside the tiny room and it wasn't long before Evie, reprimanding herself, heard locks turning.

Lucy Thorne walked in, a broad smirk on her face. Evie growled. Throne chuckled.

"I hope you don't mind. I took upon myself to take off your robes, you won't be needing them for what comes next."

Pushing aside the thought of Lucy Thorne undressing her, Evie replied,

"Afraid to face me on even ground?"

"Yes. Blinded and short-sighted as you might be, I know what you are capable of. I'm not going to take risks, not when it concerns the assassin who took down Starrick. I drugged that little blade, the wound itself wasn't deep, but the sedative was quite powerful though."

"My brother was right there with me. And you can bet he is looking for me already. It won't be long before he finds me. It might be in your best interests to clear out before that happens."

It was an empty threat. Thorne realized it too as she crouched down, eyes level with Evie's.

"I know you are lying. Your brother is in London. You might have broken the English Templars but we still have eyes and ears all over the land. You came here alone and you will die alone as well."

"Keep telling yourself that. When the Assassins get wind of my abduction, they will tear this place apart. Jacob has quite a temper."

"Ah yes. Your twin brother. Honestly Frye, your brother's more of a grunt. He only understands blood and violence. Even if he were here, he'd never find you. You are the strategist, not him."

It was a taunt but Evie recognized the respect in her voice. She was right of course. Jacob was brash and impulsive; he relied on brute force and shock value more than discretion.

But Jacob would never have been stabbed like I was.

Thorne was thinking along the same lines and she voiced her thoughts,

"Of course your buffoon of a brother would never have been fooled like you were. How does it feel, Frye? The one thing that made you feel superior to your brother was your meticulousness. And the sight of me stripped you of your one advantage. I really wind you up, don't I?"

A whirlwind of emotions rose inside her. Thorne was right. She did wind her up. The mere sight of her wound her up. Except, what was it about Thorne that set her teeth on edge? Pretending that her heart wasn't racing, she spat at Thorne. The other woman fell backwards, trying to avoid the flying phlegm. Evie felt like a child having a temper tantrum, but still relished the sight of Thorne scrambling to her feet, attempting to look dignified and failing miserably.

She dusted off her robes and stood up straight. She cleared her throat and spoke to Evie as if she were announcing a piece of news.

"When you start acting like your age, we will have a long and painful conversation Miss Frye. Best to steel yourself, the nights get very cold and I doubt your garments will keep you warm enough."

Evie wasn't going to bend to torture. She voiced her thoughts.

"You can torture me all you want, I won't talk."

Thorne turned from the doorway. A wicked grin was pasted across her face. She walked back to her and crouched, whispering into her ear in a seductive voice,

"Who said anything about torture Miss Frye?"

And with that she licked her ear. The feel of her tongue sent jolts of pleasure inside Evie. Even in her confused state, Evie's mind registered something. She acted on it. She shuddered and struggled as Thorne stood up and walked out of the door.

She knew. She knew why I hesitated that night inside the Tower of London.

The events that had transpired left her in a daze, pleasure and pain building into frustration. She didn't get to ponder over the bizarre twist of events though. Silver-blood mercenaries entered the room. They untied her bounds and laid her on the cold floor, shackling her to iron manacles. They left immediately, locking the door as they left. Blood rushed to her lower body and the numbness that had begun to creep in due to lack of blood flow began to fade. Feeling returned to her legs and Evie sat up on the cold floor. Her thoughts were jumbled, confused. Lucy Thorne knew about her. Evie had worked so hard to hide her feelings and they had betrayed her.

Thorne would return the next day and she would taunt her more and more, probably torture her despite what she had said and eventually Evie would be worn down. She definitely couldn't stay here. And she wouldn't.

A small smile crept on Evie's face as she spit on the floor, a hair pin clearly visible on the mass of spit. When Thorne had whispered in her ear, Evie had quickly bit into a hairpin and concealed it inside her mouth.

It wasn't long before Evie had picked the locks off the manacles. Quietly, she put on her robes again and scoured the room for weapons. There were none. Finally, Evie settled for a small, flat rock with a jagged edge. A crude weapon, but it would serve her purpose. She crouched behind the door and peeked through the keyhole. She could see two Silver-bloods outside the adjacent room, warming themselves on a fire. She watched patiently for signs of reinforcements but there were none.

For all her claims, Thorne had been arrogant. Two mercenaries, manacles and a door was all that separated the Assassin from freedom. She would pay for her arrogance, Evie decided. She had let her feelings for Henry compromise her mission before; she would not let it happen again. And what Evie felt for Thorne wasn't even close to what she used to feel for Henry. No, this was just attraction.

A deep, powerful attraction.

It would pass; she told herself confidently, her inner thoughts conflicting with the statement. Pushing aside her confused thoughts, Evie began to plan her escape.


Not to worry, I don't intend to turn this story into Lesbian Porn. Some steamy scenes might occur but that's about it. Also reviews would be highly appreciated. Tell me what I could do better. Cheers!