Page 65 of Discovered Magic
It warmed but remained solid, indicating she was riding the right trail, even if it forked.
“Draven Masters, you remove this shackle immediately,” she hissed.
Nothing. Nada. Not even a fizzle.
Damn him!
Teleporting was out, which was probably a good thing since she didn’t know how to do it properly anyway. What was she left with? Could she shock Bart if he touched her? Perhaps she was a human defibrillator, capable of stopping his heart? Wouldn’t that be a bonus!
Thirty minutes later, the tarp was pulled back, and her rat friend bolted, scaring a curse from him. His shout fed the evil part of her soul, wishing him to the real Perdition.
“Those good-for-nothings! They were supposed to clean this wagon bed,” he grumbled, holding his lantern higher and presumably checking the buckboard for additional critters before snuffing out the flame. The dusky light was fading as the sun crested the horizon, but they still rested in the shadow of a canyon.
“Just can’t get good help these days,” Abbie replied in a chipper tone she didn’t feel. Her throat, though tight, didn’t pain her as it had before when speaking. A fact she’d discovered earlier with Wilder.
Other than to stare at her with suspicion, Bart remained unmoving.
“Cat got your tongue?” she sneered, rolling to a sitting position.
“Were you fakin’ the whole time, girl?”
She grinned, and despite the painful tug of skin, she maintained it. The grotesque mask would give him a nice chill. Let him believe she was capable of anything.
“Get on out of there. We’re walkin’ the rest of the way.”
Remaining stationary, Abbie glanced around. The landscape she could see wasn’t familiar in the least.
“What about the horses? Won’t they die without water?” she asked with faux innocence.
Perhaps, if he intended to take them, she could steal one and get away. Though she didn’t know which way they’d come or what direction she should head if she did manage an escape, she would take her chances.
“They’ll head back to town.”
Good to know. It meant if she gave the beast its head, it might take her straight back to Wilder.
“I said, get down from there, girl. Are ya hard of hearin’ as well as dumb?”
“Watch your tone, Bartholomew. I’ve had about enough of asshole men.” Her frigid tone left little doubt the needle on her bullshit meter had reached the red.
He drew his pistol and aimed.
Okay, bluff called, and all chips were firmly on his side of the table.
Gus knew the route to the caves by heart, and with the moon as bright as it was, his horse was able to effortlessly pick its way across the desert terrain. Ahead, the steady golden glow disappeared, suggesting Bart snuffed out the lantern due to the rising sun. Likely, they’d need to walk the rest of the way since only horses could manage the narrow trail head. But if Mary was still unconscious, Bart wouldn’t be moving her any time soon.
Their slowdown worked in Gus’s favor.
Only when he was three-quarters of the way did second thoughts intrude. He wasn’t fast in a gunfight, and it might see him dead. Regret for leaving Mary’s man to suffer was also weighing heavy. He prayed a kind soul saw their way to helping him and didn’t leave him to bleed out on the boardwalk. If Gus managed to rescue her, would she be sore at him for not saving her guy?
He hoped not. She was the reason he tried to be better. Not just to impress her, but to earn her respect. Deep down, in the far reaches of her broken mind, she remembered all he’d done to help her. He was sure of it.
“I’m comin’ for ya, Mary,” he promised.
As Gus drew closer, he could make out the outline of Bart and Mary. Should he shoot the merchant in the back? He risked hitting her from here. Anxiety caused his heart to hammer and him to miss the pounding hooves of the Silver City Gang until they were upon him.
Five riders circled him, leaving no doubt as to the trouble they were about to heap on his head.
“What do we have here, fellas?” drawled Silas Hastings as he drew up. He shifted in the saddle, resting his forearms on the pommel and loosely holding the reins in his gloved hands.
