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Samantha had to clamp down on a sudden shiver, one not caused by the cold, damp air. The ancient buildings looming over them cast obsidian shadows into every corner and doorway. Old Town suddenly seemed to stir from an uneasy slumber, like a great beast waiting to devour them.
“Point taken,” Braden dryly responded. “Now since you obviously know who I am, I assume you also know who my family is.”
“Aye, yer Kendrick,” Greatcoat replied. “So, who gives a shite?”
“My brother, the Earl of Arnprior, would give a shite. He’d hunt you down, along with your dimwitted companion and everyone who works for you. And then he’d exterminate you, like the lice-ridden vermin that you are.”
Greatcoat calmly observed them, holding his pistol steady. His companion, though, was still agitated and too stupid to hold his tongue.
“Bollocks. We’re nae afraid of yer poncy earl of a brother.”
“No? Then perhaps you’ve heard of my brother Logan,” Braden replied.
“Oh, aye,” said Greatcoat. “Great lummox, that one.”
“He is indeed a big man, but did you know he once wrestled a bear in Canada? Throttled it dead, in fact. So, you lot would be child’s play to him. And then there’s Graeme, the former inquiry agent for the Crown, not to mention my other brothers. You’d be insanenotto be afraid of us, because Clan Kendrick stands as one and kills as one. My enemy is their enemy. Therefore, I strongly suggest you not make me your enemy.”
“Point taken,” Greatcoat sardonically said, echoing Braden’s words from a moment ago. He stashed his pistol back inside his coat.
Samantha had to admit the man was remarkably cool headed, given that he had two pistols aimed at him.
“I’ve truly no quarrel with ye, doc,” the man added. “It’s the lass who needs to be careful, if she knows what’s good for her.”
“Be very clear,” Braden said, the snarl returning to his voice. “Thelassis one of ours, and Clan Kendrick protects its own.”
“Nor does the lass take kindly to threats,” Samantha added. “So deliver your message and be on your way.”
“Then here it is,” Greatcoat said. “Yer to stop meddlin’ in Old Town, lookin’ for things ye have no business lookin’ for. It’ll not end well if ye keep on the way ye are. Stay home like a good girl, and all will be well.”
Samantha barely managed to rein in her impulse to snap at the deliberate insult. “How I spend my time in Old Town is no business of yours. Nor will I be frightened off. I will do what I must.”
Still, it was hard not to be disconcerted and dismayed. These men knew who she was and what she’d been doing. She and Donny had been very careful, but clearly not careful enough.
“If ye want to keep them kiddies safe,” Greatcoat said, “stop lookin’ for them.”
Anger burst through her, like fireworks exploding in the night sky. She extended her arm to the limit and pointed her pistol at his skull. “If you’ve hurt them, I’ll kill every last one of you. And I won’t need any Kendricks to do it.”
Greatcoat waved a dismissive hand. “They’re fine. No need to get in a twist.”
“Fine? You’re forcing them to be criminals,” she exclaimed.
“No one’s forcin’ them to do anything,” he shot back. “They’re where they belong.”
“They belong with me, and Iwillfind them.”
Greatcoat bared his teeth in a snarl. “Now, see here, ye silly bitch—”
A door was flung open in one of the houses behind them, throwing a wide shaft of light into the close. Greatcoat retreated, pulling his companion along with him.
“This is yer last warnin’,” he said. “Keep out of Old Town, or the deaf girl will be next.”
With that, they vanished into the night.
* * *
When Samantha tried to bolt after the pair, Braden managed to catch her arm and clamp her against his side.
“Let me go,” she yelped. “I have to—”
