The Tiger's Mistress
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The thin shaft of metal caught on the tumbler but the lock did not open. Shifting slightly, the cloaked figure crouched beside the desk flexed a gloved hand and tried again.
Snick. Snick. Still no luck.
"Oh, bloody hell." The oath was no louder than the faint whisper of the damask draperies framing the open window.
"Well, what did you expect?"
The fingers froze and the figure whipped around, revealing a masked face.
"You are going about it all wrong."
Black silk stretched from the intruder's hood to below the nose, with two holes cut out for the eyes. The... see more