The Emperor's Bride

by Caylen McQueen

  “Well...” Nicky wiggled his toes and yawned again. “I guess you could try to disguise yourself, Junebug.”

  “With what? How? Please, will you help me?”

  Nicky was pretty sure she was manipulating him, but he didn't even care, because her face was too pretty to disappoint. “Well, for starters, you could--”

  “Wait... maybe I shouldn't ask for your help,” Jun suddenly changed her mind. She turned toward the window, where ribbons of sunlight spilled through the bars. She could hardly believe the windows had bars. The Hole was essentially a prison for its girls. “The last time I let someone help me, he was killed.”

  “Aw, you're worrying your pretty little head for nothing! Nobody's gonna kill Nicky Gunn, or my name isn't... Nicky Gunn.” Looking slightly confused by his own sentiment, Nicky rolled out of bed and hopped into his boots. “I'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail, Jun! Don't go anywhere!”

  “Alright, but where would I g--” Before her sentence was complete, Nicky ran from the room. When he was gone, Jun sat on the end of the bed and twisted a handkerchief in her lap. She had no idea where the handkerchief came from, but she assumed it belonged to Nicky, because there was an N stitched into the fabric, as well as a shoddily embroidered pistol.

  A few minutes later, Nicky burst through the door with a long black trench coat, which he draped across Jun's shoulders. “Put your arms through it! Make sure it's mostly covering your dress. No one pays attention to the lower half of a person's body... at least I don't... so hopefully they won't notice what you're wearing underneath.” As he coached her, Nicky stuck a fuzzy mustache on her upper lip. It was slightly crooked, but he didn't seem to notice. After buttoning the coat, Nicky put his top hat on her head and stepped back to admire his work. “Aaaah! I like it! You look like a real proper gentleman!”

  Turning toward the looking glass, Jun gasped at her reflection. “Are you sure this is going to work?”

  “Of course it is! At least... I think it is. You know, come to think of it, I really can't say for sure if this'll work or not.” Nicky lazily draped an arm across her shoulders and whisked her from the room. “But it's worth a try, right? It's better than turning you over to that Sasha lady, right?”

  “Uh huh,” Jun agreed. “I really appreciate your help, Nicky. I'm really glad I met you.”

  “I'm glad I met you too, sweetheart. I, uh...” When they passed room two-fourteen, Nicky's feet abruptly halted. The door was cracked, and when he saw someone slumbering inside, he leaned in for a closer look. While peering through the crack, he shouted, “Aha!”

  “What are you doing? We have to keep going!”

  “It's Logan,” he whispered to Jun. “Logan Hershall. That's the guy who... stole my money.”

  “Someone stole from you?

  “Yep.” Of course, it was a lie. Logan won the money at the poker table, fair and square, but Nicky felt like it was owed to him. He was the one who deserved to win. “I'm going to steal it back.”

  “But Nicky... do you really think that's a good idea.”

  “It's a great idea! Wait right here.” Nicky lightly pushed on the door, widening the crack until he could easily slip through. Then he tiptoed to Logan's bed, as carefully and quietly as he possibly could. The elder Hershall brother was on his back, cradling a shotgun to his chest as he slept. “Idiot...” Nicky whispered to the slumbering wretch. He easily found Logan's bag of money, which was tucked away in the corner of the room. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, Nicky retreated from the room and reunited with Jun in the hallway.

  “Was that money really stolen from you?” an incredulous Jun asked as they made their way to the saloon's creaky staircase.

  “Uh huh. Yeah! Why? You doubt me?” Nicky suddenly lit a cigar and shoved it through Jun's frowning lips. “Here. Smoke this. If they see you smoking a cigar, no one will doubt you're a man.” He bounded down the last three stairs in a single leap, which was easy for Nicky and his long legs.

  The cigar might not have been the best idea, because Jun immediately choked on the smoke, which drew stares from the nearby tables. Undeterred by Jun's gagging, Nicky grabbed her arm and escorted her to the guards at the saloon's front door. He expected to breeze by, but one of the guards stepped into his path.

  “Nicky Gunn,” the bouncer croaked his name.

  “Aw. You know who I am? I didn't know I was so famous! I'm flattered.”

  “You ain't famous. I make it my business to know everyone in here,” the gargantuan guard gruffly informed him. “And I don't know who that is.” He pointed a thick finger at Jun, who had to consciously suppress a cough as she puffed on the cigar.

  “Umm... this is my, uh... cousin. Mickey.”

  The guard skeptically stroked his double chin, making it wag. “Mickey and Nicky?”

  “Yep.”

  “I didn't see Mickey come in.”

  “Well, uhh... he's been here since yesterday,” Nicky attempted an explanation. Beside him, Jun coughed lightly.

  “I didn't see him come in yesterday neither.”

  Nicky breathed a pitiful sigh through his wrinkled nose and curled upper lip. He didn't realize the guards paid so much attention to the comings and goings of customers. “Mickey's, uh... he's real stealthy. You probably didn't notice him.”

  The second guard finally chimed in. “I think this goes without sayin', but this Mickey fellow don't look nothing like him. If that's supposed to be his cousin, I ain't believin' it! He looks like a foreigner.”

  “W-well...” While his throat was gripped with nervous chuckles, Nicky scoured his mind for an appropriate explanation. “I, uh... I was adopted.”

  “Woulda made more sense if he was the one who was adopted!” the guard growled, thrusting a thumb at “Mickey.”

  “Yeah, you're probably right.” Nicky's eyes swelled when he unthinkingly confessed his lie. “I mean... what? Why would you say a thing like that?”

  “He's lying!” the larger guard declared. “Grab 'im!”

  Before either guard could make a move, Nicky buried a knee in the bulkier bouncer's groin. After narrowly evading a punch from the second guard, Nicky yelled, “Run!”

  Squealing with panic, Nicky grabbed Jun's hand and raced through the saloon's swinging doors. He bounded down the small staircase so fast, Jun nearly tripped as she tried to keep up with him. When he glanced over his shoulder and saw both guards chasing him, Nicky squealed again.

  “Don't die don't die don't die!” Nicky mumbled to himself as they raced down an empty side street. “Don't die don't die don't die!”

  “Are you talking to me or are you talking to yourself?” asked Jun, whose fake mustache dangled from her lip. When he saw it blowing in the breeze, he had to laugh, despite their current predicament.

  “I'm talking to myself, but it probably applies to you. It seems like either one of us might die today.”

  “That's not very optimistic of you!” Jun shrilled.

  “Well... you might find that I'm actually kind of a pessimist. In most situations, I usually expect the worst.” At that very moment, a dagger sailed past Nicky's ear, making him warble like a panicked turkey. “See? They're throwing knives now. It doesn't get much worse than that!”

  “Actually, it does!” Jun tugged on Nicky's arm, pulling him down a narrow alley. “The knife could've hit you!”

  “True enough.” A few seconds later, he changed the subject. “By the way, do you think it's a good idea to run down this abandoned alleyway? If we stick to the main street, someone might come to our aid!”

  “I don't know, Nicky! There aren't too many people on any street right now!” Jun panted as they ran. “And can we please stop talking? I'm already breathless! Talking makes it worse!”

  When Nicky checked behind him and realized the guards were actually gaining on them, he whimpered an indiscernible prayer. “God lord... how does a man that big run that fast?”

  “I have no idea!”

  “I think you're dragg
ing me down, Junebug! You're not running fast enough!”

  “Then let go of my hand, if that's what you think!” Jun tugged her fingers out of Nicky's grip.

  When she started to outrun him, Nicky threw back his head and screamed to the heavens, “How?”

  A few seconds later, the smaller guard finally caught up to him. Grabbing Nicky by the hair, he pulled him backward and slammed him against the wall. At the alley's end, the larger guard grabbed Jun and ripped off her hanging mustache.

  “See?” the large guard bellowed. “I knew it was actually one of them girls! Trying to escape, sweetheart? You should know better than that!” When he tossed her over his shoulder, tears threatened to burst from her eyes. Freedom was nearly within her grasp, and in an instant, it was lost. Why did she have such terrible luck?

  Nicky's eyelashes fluttered when he felt the ice cold metal on his throat. The guard pressed the knife so hard, he almost drew blood.

  “And now I'm going to gut you.” The guard's hotly breathed words tickled Nicky's ear. “I've always wondered what human entrails looked like. I guess it's time to find out.”

  Thirteen

  “If it was up to me, I'd cut off his genitals first,” said the guard who held Jun. “When he kicked me in the nuts, he really did a number on me.”

  “Oh yeah. I forgot about that!” The guard who held the knife suddenly slammed a fist into Nicky's face. His knuckles struck so hard, Nicky knew he'd get a black eye—if, in fact, he was lucky enough to survive the day. “What do you think, girl? Should I cut off his balls?”

  “No, please!” Jun wailed. “Please don't hurt him! He was just trying to help me! I talked him into it! Just take me back and let him go!”

  In response to her plea, the guard's first plowed into Nicky's rib cage. “Yeah, honey, that's not going to happen.” Then he raised the knife again, lightly shoving its tip into Nicky's nostril.

  “Cut off his nose!” the larger guard encouraged him. “That little shit deserves it!”

  “What'll it be, Nicky Gunn? Do you want to lose your nose, or do you want to lose your balls? I'd go for the nose, myself. I can't imagine living the rest of my life without a pair of--”

  “Let Nicky go.”

  When Nicky saw Flynn Cole strolling toward them with a raised double barrel shotgun, he breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Shit, Sam!” The larger of the two guards hissed. “I think that's one of the Cole brothers! Maybe we should--”

  Flynn interrupted again. “Let Nicky go. I won't ask again.”

  “I dunno, Briggs. I think he might be bluff--”

  Flynn's shotgun fired before Nicky's attacker could finish his sentence. Half of his head exploded. Bits of flesh and spattering blood painted the adjacent wall. When some of the guard's blood sprayed his face, Nicky shrieked.

  “How about you?” Flynn addressed the second guard. “Are you going to test me, or are you going to--”

  The guard dropped Jun and fled the scene before Flynn could finish speaking. As he wiped his bloody face with the sleeve of his coat, a disgusted moan flew from Nicky's mouth.

  “You shot him!” Nicky gasped. “I can't believe you actually shot him! Holy shit, Flynn!”

  Flynn shouldered his gun and swaggered to his friend's side. “And why does that surprise you?”

  “Well... that brother of yours always uses that damn tranquilizing gun. He doesn't like to kill people. I just assumed you felt the same way.”

  “Nope.” One corner of Flynn's lips was tilted by a grin. “You assumed wrong. Besides, your life was at risk. I had to put him down quick... ly.” Flynn's voice trailed off when he saw Jun heading in their direction. His face turned white and his eyes went wide.

  “Aw, hell. I forgot you can't talk around pretty girls! You can shoot a man dead without a second thought, but girls? That's beyond you!” Nicky slapped Flynn's shoulder and chuckled. “This is Jun, by the way.”

  Flynn didn't say a word to her, he simply nodded and blushed.

  “And Jun... this is my buddy, Flynn. Flynn Cole. He's kind of famous around these parts. Well... he's not as famous as his brother, but he's still kind of famous.”

  Flynn turned to Nicky and glowered.

  “Judging from the look on your face, you don't agree... but let's be honest. Without Josiah, you'd be nothing.”

  Flynn pointed at the corpse on the ground, reminding Nicky of his very recent victory.

  “It's nice to meet you, Flynn. Thank you for saving us,” said Jun with a bow. Though she expressed her gratitude, her voice was tinged with apprehension. Her first impression of Flynn was impacted by how easily he killed a man.

  Nicky must have recognized her unease, because he told her, “Flynn's really not a conscienceless rogue. I swear he's not! He's a good man to have on your side.” As he headed down the alley, Nicky motioned for his companions to follow. “By the way, Flynn, is your brother in town?”

  Flynn answered with a nod.

  “Do you think we could find him?”

  Flynn nodded again. When they reached the alley's end, he pointed in the direction where he last saw Josiah.

  “Your brother's that way?”

  Yet another nod from Flynn confirmed they were heading in the right direction. Because Busybee was a relatively compact town, a few minutes later, they happened upon Josiah and Carol, who was still gushing about her new hat.

  “Seriously!” Carol exclaimed. “I really like it! I keep thinking of ways to make it even more chic! Like... what if I pinned a huge sunflower to the brim? I think that'd look super nice! What do you think, Josiah?”

  Josiah expressed his opinion in a single word. “Nope.” When he saw his brother and Nicky heading toward them, he grabbed Carol's arm and waited for them to approach.

  “Helloooooooo there Josiah Cole!” Nicky greeted him with an overly exuberant bow.

  Josiah's reply was significantly less obnoxious. “Hey, Nicky.”

  “Who's the girl?” Nicky asked, pointing at Carol.

  “I'm Carol Cassady, hun!” Carol thrust a hand at Nicky. She expected him to shake it, but he kissed it instead. “Ooo! A real gentleman! I like it!”

  “And I like you,” Nicky said with a wink. “Those breeches of yours are very... stylish.” He had to consciously keep his nostrils from flaring as he glanced down at her floral-pattern pantaloons.

  “Hey, thanks! Most of the time, people don't appreciate my unique sense of style, but if you do, you're already my favorite, and I don't even know your name.”

  “Nicky Gunn.”

  “Nicky Gunn?” Carol's eyes lit up. “Is that your cowboy pseudonym? Because if it is, and it's okay to pick one, I seriously might start calling myself Carol Carbine.”

  “You're not gonna call yourself Carol Carbine,” muttered a disapproving Josiah.

  “I might!”

  “No. You are not,” Josiah insisted, then he turned his attention to Jun, who had been timidly studying him since the moment they approached. “And who's your traveling companion, Nicky?”

  When Nicky introduced them, his voice was loud and proud. “This is Jun. I rescued her.”

  Behind him, Flynn was pouting. He wanted to claim the rescue—after all, Nicky would have been dead if not for him—but as long as Jun was there, he couldn't set the record straight. His tongue was sadly tied.

  “Aw, shit,” Josiah grumbled. “This one's real pretty. Now I won't be hearing my brother's voice for the next half-century, most likely.”

  Jun shyly smiled at Josiah's compliment. Like Flynn, she was temporarily speechless. She had never seen a pair of prettier eyes than Josiah Cole's.

  “Let's head toward the Grand Saloon... and maybe grab some drinks?” Josiah suggested. “We should probably discuss our next destination. Busybee's getting a little stale.” The next time Josiah's eyes met Jun's, he returned her smile. “Your pretty friend is welcome to come with us, Nicky.”

  “You want to come, Jun?” Nicky asked.

  Trans
fixed by Josiah's eyes, she almost missed Nicky's question. “Sure.”

  Jun didn't realize eyes could be so blue.

  As they made their way to the saloon, Nicky coiled an arm around Carol's back and confessed, “Try not to spread this around, but Nicky Gunn is a pseudonym. My name's really Nicholas Amberley, but that doesn't have the same snappy ring to it. Before I was Nicky Gunn, I used to go by Nicky Pistol, but I didn't really like that either, so I settled on Gunn.”

  “I kind of like Nicky Pistol,” Carol said.

  “You do?” Nicky exaggerated a frown. “Do you like it better?”

  “No. Not better. I like them both.” Carol reassuringly patted his stomach. “I used to go by a pseudonym too. Lorac. It's Carol backwards. But then I invented a vacuum and named it a Lorac too, which was a huge mistake. My friends kept making naughty jokes about how well a Lorac can suck, so I had to start calling myself Carol again.”

  “Hmm. Yeah, I can see how that could get a little awkward.” Nicky slid his arm further down Carol's back. When she didn't protest, he wondered if he would make it all the way to her bottom without getting slapped. “You know... I kinda like Carol Carbine.”

  Carol's eyes lit up. “You do?”

  “I do. I absolutely approve.” Nicky's arm continued its descent to her rear, but he didn't quite make it before they reached the saloon. “Carol Carbine and Nicky Gunn. I think we'd make a pretty good team!”

  Josiah ordered drinks and claimed his favorite spot in the corner of the room, a distance away from the saloon's other patrons. As his four companions claimed the seats around him, Josiah cracked his knuckles and laid his revolver on the table. Every time he entered a saloon, he liked to make sure his weapons were close.

  “So...” Josiah began, “after we leave Busybee, where should we go?”

  “Gravestone.” As he answered his friend's question, Nicky reached into his coat and pulled out the substantially sized money bag he stole from Logan Hershall. “It's time to get my brother out of jail.”