Page 66 of When Dashing Met Danger

“Let’s just keep this simple,” the one with the raspy voice said. “Walk away from the woman, then put your hands behind your back. We’re not going to hurt her, are we, boys?”

“No, not yet,” Patch answered. All three laughed, Patch laughing the hardest.

Lucia clutched Alex’s arm tighter. Without looking at her, he murmured, “Just go along for now. I won’t let them hurt you.”

She wondered how he would prevent it if he allowed his hands to be bound again, but as they were outnumbered and unarmed, they really had no choice but to comply.

On the deck, it was dark and windy. Her hair and dress whipped about her, making it difficult to see anything at first. But when she finally got a view of the docks, she was surprised they’d anchored in an area away from the main activities. De´charne´ wanted secrecy, and she hoped that worked to their advantage.

Turning away from the shore, Lucia spotted the bony little man talking to several soldiers in French uniform. His gaze met hers briefly, and he gave her a malevolent grin, then motioned to Patch and Raspy and the man with the lantern to take them ashore.

She and Alex were rowed ashore and dragged to a ramshackle warehouse, empty except for a desk, several chairs, and papers strewn haphazardly about the floor.

De´charne´’s men shoved Lucia and Alex into the chairs in the center of the room, ordering them to sit silently. Lucia shifted, feeling the leering eyes of the three thugs on her as they whispered together by the door.

Patch and Raspy were the worst, ogling her, smiling toothless grins, and licking their thick, chapped lips. Her skin prickled with loathing. She glanced at Alex and then stared harder. His eyelids were drooping, and his head lolled to the side. Leave it to a man to choose a time like this to take a nap!

She started to move her leg forward, waiting for the thugs to look away so she could kick him surreptitiously, but then she saw his hands. His body was angled so his hands were hidden from De´charne´’s henchmen, and he was working furiously at his bindings. Hope surged in her. Wonderful man!

She just prayed he’d be free before De´charne´’s men decided to act on the ideas she saw reflected in their leers.

The sound of hoofbeats startled her, and she heard horses and what sounded like a carriage pass the warehouse, driving away from the docks. She didn’t know what that meant, but from the look in the thugs’ eyes, it wasn’t good.

“He’s gone to the palace,” Patch remarked, moving away from the door. “Can’t wait to tell the emperor.”

“Be gone at least a quarter of an hour,” Raspy said. They crept closer, and Lucia scooted back in her chair. “That ought to be just enough time.” Patch closed the distance, and before Lucia could cry out, he grasped her arm with a grimy hand and hauled her against him. His hand locked on the back of her neck, and he pulled her face close to his. She gagged when his foul breath assaulted her, and it was several moments before she could focus again. When she did, she was looking into his eye patch.

“I told you I’d be back, didn’t I, whore?”

Her body convulsed in disgust as his hot breath and wet spittle hit her cheek. Then his mouth slammed into hers, and bile rose in her throat, thin and acidic. She tasted blood as his mouth fastened on her, cutting her lip on her teeth. Then his slobbery tongue invaded her mouth, and her entire body bucked to escape the attack. Laughing, he pushed her back, and she stumbled but was caught in a bruising hold by Raspy. His hands gripped the bodice of her dress, tearing it open, the renting sound of the fabric echoing in the nearly empty building.

“Alex!” she screamed, unable to fight back because her hands were still bound. Then she was thrown forward and Patch had his tongue in her mouth again. Her vision dimmed, and she had to focus just to breathe.

Dizzy and disoriented, she heard a low snarl, “I would stop now if I were you.” The voice was far, far away, and dots of light were dancing before her eyes.

“And just what are you going to do about it?” Patch jeered, releasing her.

She turned her head slowly in an effort to ward off the dizziness and saw Alex. If she’d had any hope, what she saw destroyed it. Alex was still seated in the chair, his arms tied behind his back.

“Don’t worry,” Raspy said. “We’ll let you watch.”

“Difficult,” Alex said, then rose slowly, never taking his eyes from Patch. “Since you’ll be dead.” The look in his cold, gray eyes made the hair on the back of Lucia’s neck stand up. With a roar that filled the room, he hurled himself at Patch. They collided, and Patch was knocked off balance, sending both men sprawling across the floor.

Lucia fell back, struggling to keep her own balance. She was frozen with fear and confusion, and Raspy’s hand was locked on her arm. Everything was happening so fast. She just knew that somehow, miraculously, Alex’s hands were free and he was thrashing Patch brutally where his eye had once been.

Patch cried out in agony, then struck back, knocking Alex hard against the edge of the desk. Patch rose to his knees and threw himself at Alex, arms flailing wildly. Alex rolled, avoiding Patch’s beefy arms and bringing his fist up so it struck

Patch squarely in the stomach. Patch’s eyes widened, and his mouth went slack. He gurgled, then fell on his side. Lucia screamed when she saw his hand gripping a knife embedded in his abdomen.

Alex rose, turning to face Raspy. Lucia gasped at him, Alex was not even breathing hard, but his face was a mask of deadly fury. The angel of death disguised in a handsome mask.

Suddenly she was thrown aside, and Raspy reached for his pistol.

“A gun!” she managed before hitting the floor hard enough to knock the wind out of her. Struggling for breath, she clamped her eyes shut, dreading the boom of the gun’s discharge. An eternity passed. The space of one hard-fought breath, then she heard the pop and saw the flash. Screaming silently, she pulled her arms over her head, but it didn’t mute the sound of Alex’s body falling.

“Oh, my God,” she wheezed, hands tearing at her hair. She squeezed her eyes shut, tears burning them and wetting her cheeks. “Alex.” Alex. Alex. Alex.

“Dash it! I think I’ve gotten gunpowder on my cuffs.”

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