She counted to ten before following.
Sandwiched between tall buildings, this alley seemed darker than the others. Or perhaps the fog had thickened, blocking out the sporadic moonlight. Charlie squinted, her senses on alert as she heard a squeal…of door hinges in need of greasing. The veil of fog suddenly lifted, and she saw the row of back doors ahead before the alley hit a dead end.
Three doors. Quinton could have gone through any of them.
She started with the closest door. Lighting a match, she held it up to the small sign: an apothecary…an unlikely establishment for Quinton to visit this time of night. The next back entrance was to a pawn shop. A possibility. She reached the following door, which was unmarked. Interesting. As were the large, fresh footprints in the dirt.
She tried the handle—locked.
As she reached for the lock picks in her skirt pocket, her nape stirred. She turned, her pulse ticking up as four hulking figures advanced toward her. Even in the shadows, they had menacing miens, those of cutthroats looking for easy prey. She shifted her grip from the picks to her pistol. Since shooting the bounders would draw attention, it would be her last resort. She would try other means first.
“Looking fer company, gents?” She flashed them a smile that flaunted her blackened teeth.
“We ain’t interested in an upright, you filthy old hag.” The biggest brute, the leader, had mean eyes in a meaner face. “Hand o’er your coin, and be quick about it, if you want to keep what’s left o’ your gnashers.”
Faking a whimper of fear, she gave him her coin bag. If he wasn’t a greedy bastard, there ought to be enough in it to satisfy him.
He dumped its contents onto his palm, sneering. “That ain’t enough for an evening’s entertainment.”
Quelle surprise. He is a greedy bastard.
She made her expression placating. “That’s all I ’ave?—”
“Search ’er, boys.” He gave the order to his trio of lackeys. “If you don’t find nofin’ more, give ’er a beating for wasting me time.”
Last resort it is.
Charlie whipped out her pistol and fired. The bullet struck as she’d intended: in the blackguard’s shoulder, missing his vital organs. Not a lethal injury if he was smart and heeded her warning.
He howled, grabbing his injured arm. “Bleedin’ bitch. You’re going to pay fer that.”
Unfortunately, intelligence was not a common trait amongst brutes.
“’Ave your way wif ’er, fellows,” he bit out. “Then slice ’er goddamned throat.”
Grinning with sadistic anticipation, his companions prowled toward her.
Charlie dropped into a crouch, grabbing the knife tucked inside her boot. As one of the bastards made his move, she surged upward, slashing her blade in an arc. He screamed, blood spurting where two fingers had been and the severed digits thunking onto the ground.
The remaining pair attacked as one. The taller one lunged with a knife, and Charlie leapt back, the tip of her foe’s steel tearing into the padding of her bodice. Before her attacker could regain his stance, she kicked him in the groin. Groaning, he fell to his knees, and she punched him in the face with the hilt of her blade. He dropped his knife, grabbing at his broken nose as it spouted blood.
She kicked his knife out of reach and faced the other scoundrel, twirling her blade. He charged at her, and she sidestepped, at the same time swiping out with the knife. The brute ran into her weapon, his momentum shoving the steel deep between his ribs. He staggered away, gasping and grabbing at the hilt embedded in his torso.
Suddenly, Charlie was grabbed from behind in a chokehold. A burly arm tightened around her throat, cutting off her air. She struck out, her blows ineffectual against the bulk at her back.
“You ain’t no mort,” the leader snarled in her ear. “Who the bloody ’ell are you?”
She gasped, grabbing at the arm crushing her windpipe. The man whose fingers she’d cut off came over and backhanded her. As metallic pain flooded her mouth, he ripped off her wig, and golden tresses cascaded down.
“Looks like we found ourselves a pretty piece.” Sneering, her captor grabbed a fistful of her hair. “We’re going to fuck you dry before we gut you like a fish.”
She clawed at the tightening noose of his arm, but he was stronger. Even as she fought, the lack of air drained her strength. Her vision wavered and dimmed at the edges as she felt the other bastard tearing at her skirts. Darkness sucked her into its abyss, her body heavy and numb, and she no longer felt anything?—
A shout sounded. A shadow bolted in front of her blurry eyes. The pressure suddenly left her throat, but there was nothing to hold her up.
As she tumbled, she glimpsed bronze stars flashing in the darkness.
Five
