Page 6 of Confessions of a Highland Assassin

“Preferably one with the highest rates,” Ava ignored his mocking and kept her head low as her stomach curled with nausea. The man knew exactly what she meant.

“Aye, there is one available right now. But none have taken on it. Ye might want tae wait until something a little easier comes in,” he added a little more seriously. “Ain’t nae job for a beginner, I’ve never seen ye in here ‘afore.”

She tilted her head slightly in confusion. How could he tell she had never been in her before when everyone wore a disguise?

“I ken when a new person comes in by the way they study their surroundings,” he filled the filthy mug with ale without looking up. “Regulars already ken the windows are closed and dinnae bother looking at ‘em. There’s a man looking tae hire a lass, but ye may want tae start smaller,” he continued, warning her again. “It seems like he means serious business, nae a job for the faint o’ heart.”

She lifted her head slightly to get a better look at the man, but not enough so that he would see any of her features. “I can make my own decisions,” she bristled at his insult. “Just point me tae the table.”

The barkeep scoffed, revealing a row of broken, yellowing teeth. He jerked his pudgy thumb to a table in the far corner of the room.

Ava turned to see a bulky figure hidden beneath a bright green robe. His face was hidden like the rest of the patrons, but he stood out in a more defiant way, his height making the table he was sitting at look smaller.

Hiding her nervousness, Ava picked her way across the room, ignoring the susurrations that followed her steps. She slid into the seat opposite the figure, keeping her hands on her lap beneath the table. You never knew what kind of small details would give you away in the future.

“Good evening, lassie,” the hooded figure spoke in a deep voice. “Are ye sure ye’re at the right table?”

Deciding to ignore the slant and cut to the chase, Ava spoke in a low voice. “I hear ye have a job that naebody wants tae take. I would like tae hear about it.”

The man lifted his head slightly, a blond curl escaped before he could tuck it back in. He hastily rectified his error and cleared his throat. “Aye, I need someone taken care of and the job requires a lass. Preferably a cunning and beautiful one.”

“Why does it need tae be a lass in particular?” Ava asked defensively, getting annoyed at the mention of beauty. The Dark Horseman was well-known for its ill-treatment of women.

“Let’s just say that the job requires a more… feminine touch.”

Ava sat back in her chair. The thick atmosphere, which seemed to be a necessity when it came to anonymity, was beginning to have an effect on her.

“I can make it worth yer while,” the man drew a large black pouch from under the table and heaved it beside his mug of ale.

Ava could hear from the sound of the “thunk” that it was more than enough gold to pay off her debts.

“Yer weight in gold,” he said when she hesitated to respond. “And more if the job gets executed correctly.”

“What has the person done that ye want tae dae away with?” she asked, her eyes never leaving the pouch. Her conscience still pricked at her, even if the money was enough to save her brother.

“It’s personal business, nae questions asked,” he answered bluntly.

“Look, I willnae kill an innocent person. I only take care o’ people that dinnae deserve tae live anymore. Has he or she committed a crime that’s worth losing their lives over?”

The hooded figure leaned forward with his arms on the table. “Is it nae for me tae decide what is worth losing yer life over?” He placed a huge hand over the pouch of gold and pulled it back toward him. “After all, I have the gold.”

Ava stared at the pouch beneath the ham-sized fist. I need it… she reminded herself. “Who is the target?”

“Boyd Cameron,” he lowered his voice so that the surrounding tables could not hear.

Ava nearly forgot herself and almost let her hood slip back as her mouth fell open. “The Laird?” she accidentally said in her normal voice.

To her knowledge, Boyd Cameron was a good man. He never hassled his tenants or asked for more than they could give. She did not know him personally, but his reputation spoke for itself. There was no way she was going to take a life without due cause. A Laird nonetheless.

She took a deep breath and asked him once again, adapting back to her hushed voice. “What has he done tae ye?”

“Nae questions asked,” his voice almost growled at her as he repeated his statement. "Those are my terms.”

Ava eyed the gold on the counter and thought about the man she’d never even met. “I’m sorry,” she stood as her conscience got the better of her. “Unless this man has raped someone ye love or caused irreparable damage tae ye in some way, I cannae take his life.”

The man sat back in his chair and removed the gold from the table. “That’s a pity, yer sweet voice made me believe ye were exactly what I was looking for.”

Ava turned and left without another word to the bulky figure. She had done many things in her life to survive but taking an innocent man’s life would not be one of them.