09-20-2012, 05:42 PM
He waited for a while before answering. People were beginning to glance at them in a way he didn't like. Soon though Anselm had tugged Kuraon into the archway of an older building, of the richly decorated stone kind. It was his home, temporarily, and his favorite of many. It truly was a house, and all his.
The assassin slipped a skeleton key into the lock and smiled with satisfaction upon hearing a clicking sound. "You're the one who doesn't want to go to my boss. I'm just making that possible." Besides, the contract had been null and void since the moment Anselm had realized the skinny old man had secretly been planning on poisoning him. Greedy old fool. This was the very least of the consequences that might have crossed the blond's mind.
The thoughts made his mind drift. He chased them away with a quick shake of his head and forced his prisoner into his home. It was decorated with antiques, brown and gold dominated the color scheme of the living room. It was a surprising contrast to how the owner of this peaceful place earned his living.
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