He was asleep, sprawled on his stomach on the double bed under the window, snoring quietly.

But when one has made his name as the greatest thief in the world, true sleep is a habit you lose quickly, which was the only reason he heard the sound at all. The noise was soft, almost lost in the crash of the distant waves, yet unmistakable to anyone who’d heard it before. A sword snickering in anticipation isn’t a sound you forget.

Eli threw himself out of bed as the blade stabbed into the mattress where his bare back had been a split second earlier. He landed on the floor in a tangle of sheets as the man, head to foot in dark clothing, yanked his sword free. Eli didn’t waste any more time looking. He turned and bolted for the door.

“Josef!” he shouted, scrambling over the rag rug. “JOSEF!”

The assassin caught him on the second yell.