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“You almost got me caught,” he added bitterly. “I barely escaped. Dragged myself off with four broken ribs, just as the police and ambulances showed up.”
“But…”
He raised his arm, and with it, the weapon. It was long and sinister. My sentence died in my throat.
“If you hadn’t crashed the car,” he said sadly, shaking his head. His expression was utterly terrifying. Devoid of remorse.
He raised the weapon even higher. The muscles in his arm went tight.
“If only you’d—”
My hand went up defensively. But then he stopped, and the strangest look came over his eyes. It was a look I’d never seen before, in all the years I’d known him. A look of confusion… mixed in with something completely unexpected.
Then Louden dropped to the ground like a marionette whose strings had been cut.
Slowly I lowered my arm, and saw the man standing behind him. It was someone I knew but didn’t know.
A man with dark hair and wild eyebrows… and the weirdest, turned-up nose.
Fifty-Five
SAVANNAH
“Simon?”
My expression was total and complete confusion. The man standing over me — and apparently my savior — was the same guy who’d broken my shop window.
And holy shit… he just might be holding a brick.
“A—Are you okay?”
Simon reached down for me, and I took his hand. Moving slowly, he helped me to my feet.
“Yeah… I’m good. I… I think—”
Zane rose, and I flung myself into his arms. He was still bleeding, but he felt sturdy now. Solid.
“Erik…”
We turned, and Erik was already limping over. He was favoring one side. Dragging his left foot, while rubbing his head. He looked worried until he saw Louden’s crumpled form, slumped over Jarrett. Both men were unconscious.
“What the hell happened?”
“He did,” I said, “jerking a thumb toward Simon. I still don’t know how, though.”
All eyes went to the man from Madam Zingara’s place. Our former enemy… and somehow, new ally.
“I saw you leaving your shop,” Simon shrugged. “You headed this way, but then I heard you scream. And I— I figured you might need—”
I stepped in close and hugged him tight. So tight that he dropped the cobble he was still holding, which clattered to the street.
“You’re pretty handy with a brick, aren’t you?”
He let out an awkward laugh. “Well, I guess—”
“Thank you,” I interrupted him, with all my heart. “So much… thank you.”
The hand that landed on his shoulder was Zane’s. The other, Erik’s. Both men shook his hand vigorously, as we all stepped back to survey the damage.
