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“Seems to me,” I continue, “that if there was something they wanted from you, their station would only need ask you.” Sir Crane's men look toward the Santanas, Liam still attempting to stop the blood spilling from his nose. “Which leads me to think you have been a naughty man, Phillip Crane.” Tess looks at me, the color draining from her face. She struggles against the burly man's grip, earning her a sharp tug back toward him. One look at the fear in her eyes, and I make my decision.
“Now, here’s what we’re going to do,” I announce to the room after my quick survey, settling my scrutiny on the man holding Tess. “You’re going to move out of the way so Liam and Tess can proceed to the door.” The burly man doesn’t move. His eyes narrow as his mouth turns downward. “Oh Phillip. It looks like you might need to convince him,” I whisper down to Sir Crane, but loud enough for everyone to hear.
He gives a hectic wave with his free arm, motioning for the man to step aside and let the woman pass. The burly man releases a growl, his stare honed directly on me before he lets Tess go. She moves without hesitation, walking to her brother and grabbing his hand, a few folded papers in her strained grip.
Sir Crane’s men reluctantly part so they can make their way to the exit, both still able to walk without trouble.Good.
Tess stops in the doorframe before turning back to me, an anxiousness and relief battling across her features as her eyes meet my own. We need a way out. Preferably a way that leaves us mostly uninjured.
“Alright, Phillip Crane. I hope you can keep up with me. I know those knees are probably not what they used to be. And I would hate to spend my morning cleaning blood out of my clothes. So for your sake, and mine, I need you to be a good boy and scoot toward the door.” Another groan escapes his throat, and I can’t decide if it’s the noise of ayes, I understand, or aI’m going to kill you the second you let me go. Most likely the latter.
We begin our shimmy— Sir Crane inching his way across the wood floors, me backing away slowly, my knife still planted firmly against him and his arm still twisted up through my own. Once we reach Tess and Liam, I turn my hushed words to her, while my focus stays on the four men now baring their teeth at me. “Go out the back entrance, and get our horses ready.”
“Should I find Roan and Aiden?” she asks, her quiet tone keeping with my own. Her breathing is heavy, an anxiousness thrumming through her as she looks between me and her bleeding brother.
“No. They won’t have gone far. They will see you running toward our exit point. That’s all the confirmation they’ll need that it’s time to leave.” Tess agrees with my response, a thumbs up and deep inhale readying her for the sprint. “Liam, can you still fight?”
“Yes.” He nods, the blood now crusting along his lips and chin.
I lean down until my head is flush with Sir Crane’s. These words I mean only for him. “If you follow us, or try to harm us in any way, I will personally make sure you regret that decision.”
Of course he will follow. His men will do everything they can to intercept us. But this previous warning will alleviate any lingering guilt if I end up killing one, or all, of their group.
I look at Tess and Liam in turn, signaling the chaos about to follow my next action. In one quick motion I release the man from my unpleasant grip, kicking him hard in the back. I don’t wait to see how hard he falls or how quickly he gets back to his feet, bolting as fast as my legs can carrying me.
Tess and Liam head for the closest stairwell to escape the back exit from the first floor. Instead of following them, I head down the long hall, finding the far stairs and heading back up to the third floor.
Footsteps and shouts flow out of the room, a few streaming after the siblings and the others following me. They’re panting breaths chase me, their close proximity shutting everything else out of my mind.You’re almost there. A little faster.
I run across the third floor, finding my way back to the unoccupied bedroom I first entered, not daring to look behind me at the furious trail of men.Just run. Just breath. Stay calm. Stay focused. If I can lead them outside, it will be easy to hide within the veil of night and pick them off one by one with the help of the captain and Aiden.
In seconds I’m back on the terrace, taking a running leap onto the trellis.Please hold. Please hold. Please hold,I chant to myself before I bound off the edge.
My feet find their footing, the wood unmoving under the force of my body as I hurdle into it. Another shout steals my attention, a man leaning over the balcony as he reaches for me. I descend as quickly as possible, skipping holds and falling the last few feet in my haste. I’m tunneled purely into my escape, unsure if he plans to follow down the wall. I’ll find out soon enough.
Just as my feet land on solid ground a heaviness knocks into me, pushing me brutally to the ground. One of the men, the burly one who held Tess, straddles me before I can get upright, pinning my arms to my stomach, his weight crushing into my small frame. A failed attempt to swing my legs up and around him sends a broad fist into my jaw, causing my body to go limp for a brief moment.
The blow isn’t the first time I’ve been hit square in the face, and it certainly won’t be the last. But the sharp, painful pressure brings a nauseating black to my vision. The agony burns through my lower face, a fire that spreads up through my head. Its disorientation leaves me vulnerable, open for whatever this man has planned for me.
I’ve barely had time for the scene to come back into focus when a familiar blue gaze comes into view. The captain barrels into the man binding me with his weight and strength, his elbow meeting the side of the man’s head. He slumps down hard, knocked out in that single impact from Roan Montgomery. The captain holds out a hand, pulling me to my feet. Unspoken concern radiates from him as he reaches for a better look at my face. My jaw will be purple by morning, but at least it’s not dislocated.
“I’m fine. We need to go. Tess and Liam—” My words are cut short at the sound of clashing metal. We turn in unison, seeing two of the men parring with an injured Liam.
Phillip Crane and another man rush out of the back entrance, the old man spotting me almost instantly. A snaking smile tangles through his face, not even bothering to acknowledge the obviously capable man looming beside me.
“The girl is mine,” Sir Crane tells his companion before unsheathing his sword, my mere blade a shadow in comparison. I suddenly long for my bow, kept behind so I could maneuver without its bulky presence wrapped around me.
The two men walk toward us. Captain Montgomery runs at the man beside Sir Crane, using a loud bellow to throw the other man off. They meet with a loud bang, weapons swinging through the air, the dance of conviction and dedication.
It’s not hard to see the thousands of hours, the months and years of devoted practice, of mastering the skills of defending himself and his people. Roan moves with precision, his body knowing the steps, the moves, the places to swing and the time to retreat— a rhythmic waltz of prowess that will soon render his inferior opponent unconscious, or more likely, dead.
“I’m going to enjoy this more than you know,” Sir Crane says to me, pulling me back to our imminent confrontation.
I criss-cross the space, circling the old man. Otto has proved that age doesn’t negate your ability to fight and fight well, so I don’t count the man out before I’ve had a chance to see for myself. My vision channels on Sir Crane, analyzing every action, every flick of his hand, every movement of his eyes. I can’t help but be reminded of Silas as I stare at the man, the same darkness behind their gazes, the same brazen greediness greeting me.
A pair of hands wrap around my neck from behind. I’m caught off guard, unprepared for the second man from Liam’s match to abandon his initial target in favor of me. I step a leg back, twisting my torso around and wrapping my closest arm up and around his own, trapping them tight and unmoving against me. The heel of my free hand busts up into his nose before I wrap my arm up and around the back of his neck and send my knee into the soft tissue of his stomach. The man doubles over in pain, giving me the extra leverage I need to use my full weight to throw him to the ground.
The distraction is enough for Sir Crane to close the distance between us, knocking my legs from behind and resting the edge of his sword against my throat as I land on my knees. The reversal of our position isn’t lost on me. A malevolent chuckle scrapes through the air. It’s not lost on him either, apparently.
