Moving behind one the crypts, she took her position. Her timepiece beeped. She twisted the knob so she could hear Barnes.
Dead air.
“Barnes?”
She listened carefully.
Static.
They must have been attacked.
She ran toward the entrance opposite her position, praying Barnes and Calloway were still alive. She was so intent on her destination that she wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings. Three armed men stopped her.
She held her weapon up, trained on the one nearest her. “Good evening, gentlemen. It’s a fine night for a stroll in the cemetery.”
The three of them were spaced in a triangle. Her only way out was the way she’d come.
They didn’t respond, but they did step a bit closer. One sidled around a tall headstone that blocked his path, and his weapon dipped. Wonderful. They weren’t even professionals. They must be here for the bounty. She let her weapon fall so that it rested against her chest, held close by a leather strap.
Holding her hands up in surrender, she gave them her best rendition of a sweet smile, which Barnes liked to tell her was only slightly different from her normal scowl. “So are you gentlemen planning to divide the five thousand evenly? That won’t be easy with three of you. Someone will leave with a few extra pennies. Or did one of you plan to kill the others and take all that money for yourself?”
The men took their eyes off of her for the briefest moment to glance at one another. That was all she needed. She backed up a few steps.
“Careful there,” a voice whispered in her ear as a knifepoint met her throat. A fourth brute stood behind her now, and he smelled like he lived at the livery. “We heard you were a tricky one. But your fancy words won’t help you now.”
Really. This was ridiculous. Twice in one night she had been caught unaware.
Barnes would consider her carelessness a personal insult after the care he’d taken to train her. That was if he were still alive.
“Put the gun down on the ground nice and easy,” the voice said.
“I’d rather not.” She slammed her elbow into her captor’s ribs then shoved her boot heel into his knee with a sickening crunch. She grabbed her rifle and thwacked the knife out of his hand with the butt.
Nervous energy singing through her veins, she slipped into fighter mode, mind blank except for the scene before her.
The men raised their guns, but she was faster. If there hadn’t been so many of them, she would have aimed to wound, but she didn’t have that luxury. Three shots ticked off in a matter of seconds, one between each set of eyes.
Another gun cocked behind her to the left, and she shot to the side under her arm without even looking. Her attacker hit the ground with a heavy thud.
She took off for the south entrance, hoping she would make it in time. As she ran, she focused on what was around her. There was someone about a hundred yards to her left, and she pointed her weapon, and the man ducked behind a large oak.
“Dammit, Maisy, it’s me,” Calloway shouted.
Oh, dear.
She stopped, only panting slightly as she caught her breath.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were there?” she said angrily, even though she was ever so grateful to know he was alive.
He came out from behind the tree and headed toward her. “Wanted to make sure you weren’t being followed. And if you were, I wanted to catch them by surprise.”
It made sense. “How is Barnes?”
“Fine,” Calloway took her hand and examined her arm. A warm tingly sensation zipped through her body like electricity gone mad. “You’re bleeding.” He frowned and touched her shoulder lightly.
She hadn’t noticed. “One of them had a knife to my throat. He must have cut me as he fell to the ground.”
She thought she saw a hint of a smile on Calloway’s lips. He ripped off the tail of his shirt and tied it around her arm.
When his fingers touched her skin again, she shuddered.
“How many were at your end?” she asked as casually as she could, ignoring the thrilling sensations his touch caused.
“Only three. Barnes is busy tying them up so we can question them. How many for you?”
She shrugged. “Four, but they won’t be needing any rope.”
He looked confused and then his eyebrows lifted. “You killed them all?”
“It was necessary. There were four of them, and they caught me in the open. I was surprised to see so many of them. Barnes and I were so careful about covering our trail on the way here. I wonder how they found me so quickly.”
“Let’s find out.” Calloway put his hand on her back and her breath caught in a tiny gasp.
“Are you all right? Did they do something to your back?”
She cleared her throat. “I’m fine. I’m a little cold,” she lied.
Calloway shrugged out of his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. His pine scent flooded her nostrils, and she took a deep, steadying breath.
Barnes had a booted heel on one of the men’s knees when they walked up. He had them tied back to back in a circle. Their ankles and wrists were bound, another bit of rope around their middles.
“Do you know how it feels when you break a knee cap, laddie?” Barnes asked. “You feel it sliding down your leg. The pain is so excruciating it can make a man pass out. And you never quite heal from it. You’ll be limping for the rest of your life.”
Barnes shoved down a bit harder on the knee. The man squirmed and moaned.
“I say we just shoot his friends and use him for target practice,” Maisy offered. “It’s what I did to the ones who came after me.”
The man looked up at her and shouted, “You!” Just as he recognized her, she realized she knew him, too. She walked around to the other side to see the flesh on the left side of his face had been burned. Hot red marks were etched into the skin from their last encounter.
She pursed her lips. “Hoffman sent you? That old goat never learns. I see the puppeteer is up to his old tricks, even though he’s in prison. And you, Adam, you were always his favorite puppet.”
He spit, but it landed several inches from her boot. She smiled. He was trapped, and this time, he wouldn’t survive his attempt on her life. Especially not after what he’d tried to do to her the last time.
“Barnes, remember when I told you about how they had me tied up in that barn? This was the one who tried to slice my leathers off, piece by piece.”
“Yes, miss, I do remember.” Barnes slammed his heel into the man’s knee.
“Arrerhoo,” Adam groaned. Tears fell from his eyes, and he gagged.
Calloway stepped into the circle and put a restraining hand on Barnes’ arm. “I can’t let you torture these men.”
Maisy cocked her rifle and pointed it Adam. “I can kill him just as easily.”
Calloway eyed her as if he were weighing his options carefully. “Can we talk? Privately?” He motioned to one of the big oaks.
“Is this really the time to chat?”
He only stared.
“Fine.”
She followed him to the tree, where he holstered his revolver and stood with his hands on his trim hips. He stared at the ground long enough, she was about to walk away. And then he finally spoke.
“Did he assault you?” he asked.
That night was something she tried not to dwell on. It was one of the few times a man had bested her, so when she recalled what had happened, she tried to focus on how he’d gotten the upper hand. She didn’t like thinking about what had nearly happened, so she took charge of the conversation and ended it before Calloway could draw it out. “He tried, but he discovered a vial of acid in my corset that took care of his face and part of his manhood. I beat him at his own game before he had a chance to do his worst.”
Calloway opened his mouth to interrupt.
She held up a hand. “These men came to kill me. Why do I have to give you a reason why they should die?”
Maisy sighed in frustration. “I am a killer—a highly trained assassin. I go after the bad guys. I never kill innocents. If I’m cold, it’s because that is the way I was raised. From the time I was able to walk, I was trained to kill. To bring about justice.”
Fury built within her. He should know better than anyone about justice.
He held up his hands as if in surrender. “It wasn’t a judgment, more an observation. I’ve never met a woman like you and I’m just trying to understand.”
“I thought you said your sister was like me.”
He shrugged. “She’s tough, but she has a—” He stopped as if he’d realized he’d said too much.
“Heart? A conscience?” She finished for him. “You needn’t understand. Just stay out of my business, and I’ll stay out of yours.” She stormed back to the circle of men.
Barnes had left them to tend to the horses. She was about to question his lack of care toward the prisoners, but then she took a closer look. They were dead, necks at an odd angle as if they’d had been broken.
That Barnes was a strong one.
She couldn’t hide the smile.
Adam deserved far worse than a broken kneecap and neck. She had wanted him to suffer for what he had done to her that night. Some of the cuts had gone deep, and she still had the scars.
As usual, Barnes’ efforts were more efficient.
“What the hell happened?” Calloway asked from behind her.
She shrugged. “Julian won’t send anyone tonight. Not when the law will be here taking care of dead assassins. Good night, marshal.” She mounted her horse, and rode away.
Chapter Five
The Iron Witch
“You can’t just kill people.” The marshal caught up with her and Barnes halfway back to the train. Maisy had lost more blood than she realized and was in no mood to argue over the demise of rapists and murderers.
“You do understand those men were there to kill me?” She didn’t bother to look at him but did slow Midnight a bit.
“Yes, but we had taken them prisoner. You didn’t have to murder them in cold blood.”
She sighed. “I didn’t kill them in cold blood.” Barnes was there to protect her, and he’d only been doing his job. “We do not know who disposed of those gentlemen. One of the other men may have survived and decided to shut them up by killing them. And you know if they weren’t dead, they would continue to come after me.”
“Stop!” Calloway ordered.
More than anything, she wanted to get back to the train and steam away her injuries. But she pulled back on the reins gently and forced Midnight to a halt. She wasn’t happy. The horse really only had one speed—full gallop. One of the many reasons she adored her.
The horse huffed.
“Are you going to arrest Barnes or me?” She continued to look straight ahead, refusing to meet Calloway’s eyes.
“I should,” he said.
“Why? Because we rid the world of a few rapists and murderers? Do you have any idea what that one gentleman did to me before I got loose? No, and you never will. It’s something I’ll never discuss with another human being.” She held up a hand. “All I’ll say is that he was as determined to kill me back then as he was today, only it would have taken days and many more horrors if I hadn’t escaped.
“Barnes did the world a favor. And yes, you might have held them prisoner, but they would have been out on bail soon enough. Or one of Hoffman’s men would have broken them out of jail. They do it all the time. My guess if you check your records, you’ll discover the majority of those men should be serving prison terms. Your law has no jurisdiction where these men are concerned. They work outside of it all the time.”
That silenced him.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I need to see to my injuries.” She glanced over at him finally. His arm was cut and bleeding. “You might want to visit the town doctor and have him see to that. Good evening, marshal.”
A slight nudge and Midnight was off at a gallop.
The very nerve of the man chastising her. Calloway might think of himself as some kind of knight sent to protect the damsel, but she was no damsel and Calloway could not protect her when his only concern was the law. He needed to stay far away, much as the thought churned her stomach.
It was just as well.
Romantic notions were not befitting a woman in her position and it was silly for her to contemplate the man might care for her.
A hunter.
Then why did it hurt so much that he couldn’t understand?
Because I care about him, and that will only get him killed.
The very thought sent bile to her throat. More than ever she needed to find Julian. She wouldn’t allow him to hurt someone else to get to her.
Barnes waited to take the horse as she stepped inside the perimeter fence. She heard the hum as the power returned.
“What did the marshal want?” he asked, as he helped her down.
“He wasn’t happy with the way you handled Hoffman’s men.”
The old man grunted.
She touched his arm, then kissed his cheek. “I, on the other hand, say well done Barnes. Well done.”
“Was nothing, lass” he said roughly. “Marshal’s lucky I didn’t draw and quarter them after what they did to you.”
That lovely sentiment very nearly brought a tear to her eye.
Maisy kissed him again.
“Ah go on now. Let me get the horses settled and then we’ll see to your wounds.” He gazed harshly at her arm. “Unless you’re losing too much blood.”
She waved him away. “I’m fine. Horses first. I’ll meet you in the lab.”
The reality of the situation sunk in as she climbed the steps.
As if she didn’t have enough going on, now she had a bounty on her head. And one group had already come to collect. She must be slipping if they were able to find her so easily. Sliding into a chair, she toed off her boots.
Constantly looking over her shoulder was something she had done most of her life. Long ago, she learned to live with the fact the next moment might be her last.
Buck up. Stiff upper lip, and all that. This was her life, and a few more people wanting to kill her were hardly worth bothering over.
A half-hour later, she woke with Barnes hovering over her. She’d fallen asleep in a chair with a compress held to her arm.
“Lass.” He pulled the compress away. “I’ll sew this up in no time. Miss Clancy is already running you a hot bath.”
Maisy preferred her steam showers, but a bath would feel good on her aching muscles. It had been a few weeks since she’d been involved in true hand-to-hand combat.
“Starting tomorrow, we work on additional combat training,” she said in a way that most people would request a cup of tea.
Barnes nodded. “Yes, we’ve grown too comfortable riding around in this luxury.” He waved a hand at the walls of the train. “And we both know technology should never take the place of good battle skills.”
“So true.”
Maisy winced at the first prick of the needle.
After a slow, steadying breath, she closed her eyes.
While she had no doubt in her abilities, there had been a moment when she had been frightened earlier in the evening, something that hadn’t happened in a very long time.
“’Tis good to shake up the bones now and then,” Barnes said. “Keeps you human when you feel emotions.”
Scary how well the old man read her.
She snorted. “Haven’t you heard? I’m not human. I’m a cold-blooded, murdering wench.”
He chuckled. “Ah, now lass. The marshal’s a good man. You have to remember your life isn’t an easy one. A man like him is used to soft women, who smile and speak sweetly.”
She cracked one eye. “Are you saying I’m difficult and crass?”
“
Definitely.” He tied off the stitches. “Try to keep these intact at least a week so the wound can heal properly. You’re going to have a nasty scar.”
She let him help her up. “I don’t mind the scars. They remind me daily of who I am.”
Not that she would ever forget.
Chapter Six
The Iron Witch
Sleeping eight hours had an amazing effect on a woman’s constitution. It had been years since she had slept more than four hours at one time, and she wondered if Barnes had slipped a sedative herb into her late night tea.
She would have words with him about that.
A few minutes later she was in the lab, checking some of the bacteria samples she had taken from the creatures a few nights before.
The mutation of the cells continued to change long after they should have died. It was almost as if they could regenerate, but they didn’t. It was more of a metamorphosis.
Julian, what are you doing?
She shuddered.
She needed something stronger than tea. Something powerful enough to lift the remaining fog and pain from her brain.
Turkish coffee. As she thought it, she smelled the rich aroma. Barnes scared her sometimes with the way he could anticipate her needs. He said it was a butler’s way, but she had often wondered if there was more to it because sometimes it was dreadfully unsettling.
In a few hours, it would be dark enough for her to case Julian’s ranch. Or at least the one she thought he used. Barnes had heard one of the ranch hands from Hargrove asking a few men if they were looking for work. Julian always used grunts to do his bidding. Probably needed them to build one of his contraptions, or as specimens.
Evil incarnate, but also a genius. Maisy had admired the way his mind worked before she knew his true nature. It was time to kill the monster.
She wouldn’t make a move on him until she had a thorough understanding of the layout of his land. Once before she’d made that mistake, and it had cost her dearly. He’d almost turned her into one of his creatures. Her cells, he believed, might be strong enough to take the change, unlike the cells of the subjects he used at the time. There was little doubt he used the blood he’d taken from her in his experiments. His creatures might well exist because of her, and for that reason alone, she would ensure Julian died. Soon.
A Riveting Affair (Entangled Ever After) Page 25
