“We can take them all if we just wait for the right moment!” Sloan said, switching to the Sioux language.
Sloan was right.
“What do you want?” Hawk demanded.
“You have a cabin in the woods, I understand. Let’s go there. I take your weapons, of course, gentlemen. Major, Lord Douglas, mount your horses, please. And keep your distance from one another at all times. The big fellows here with the feral eyes are George and Macy. Between them, they’ve logged well over a hundred kills. In fact, they’re wanted for murder in several places, but I can take care of that for them.” He brought the point of his knife up to Skylar’s throat. “Well, gentlemen—do we ride?”
The man he had called Macy dismounted from his horse and seized Sloan’s and Hawk’s weapons. He didn’t seem to realize Hawk carried a knife at his calf. One small point in their favor.
Hawk turned to help Sabrina Connor down from the wagon.
“Sabrina, dear, you ride with Macy,” Dillman said.
“I’d rather be dragged,” Sabrina replied.
“That can be arranged,” Dillman assured her.
“Get on the damned horse with him!” Sloan snapped to her.
Sabrina had little choice. Macy was large and powerful and could handle the weapons and Sabrina quite easily.
Hawk and Sloan mounted their horses. Henry was left behind. Dillman ordered his men to collect the bodies of the white men who’d dressed and painted themselves as Indians for the attack on the wagon. They were thrown over the haunches of their mounts to follow along with the group heading for the cabin—to be disposed of at a better place and time, so it seemed. Dillman would want to leave no evidence of white involvement in an Indian raid.
Hawk moved ahead on Tor. He met Skylar’s silver gaze once again. He had a chance to speak to her very softly, very briefly as he passed by her.
“I slay all monsters!” he promised.
“What?” Dillman snapped.
“I said you’re a damned monster!” he grated.
Dillman smiled. “A damned good monster!” he agreed. He laughed aloud then, enjoying his own joke.
They began to ride to the cabin.
Willow was just aboutto mount his own horse. The senator had been joined at the house by two other men who spoke with him briefly before helping him from the house. They had all been polite and courteous to Lord Douglas’s household. They had made Willow damned suspicious. Now neither Hawk nor Skylar had returned, and Dillman had been gone nearly an hour, and he was growing worried.
Just as he mounted his horse, he heard his name. He looked to see a number of men coming toward him. He was stunned to see his brothers riding toward him, leading a horse-drawn wagon. He never mounted his horse. He hurried toward them.
“Henry Pierpont’s inside, shot through beneath the shoulder,” Ice Raven told him.
“He’s going to make it,” Blade said, “but he’ll need some care right away.”
“We’ll get him inside to Meggie?—”
“Call the women to get him in,” Ice Raven said. “Willow, he came to, raving a little when we found him. Someone just staged an Indian attack on him. He was bringing Skylar’s sister out toMayfair. They were having a nice ride when they were suddenly attacked by painted bucks.”
“An Indian raid—” Willow began incredulously.
“There might have been Indians involved, but it wasn’t an Indian attack. Henry said that they didn’t know he had come to after Hawk and Sloan came upon them and killed the supposed Indians. More men came. Threatening to kill Skylar. They took Hawk, Sloan, Skylar, and her sister.”
“Where?” Willow demanded.
“To Hawk’s cabin in the woods.”
“How many of them?”
“Henry didn’t know,” Blade supplied. “Several. And he thinks some of them are hired killers.”
