“Maybe both,” Blaze said before he could stop himself.
Benton’s grin froze. The scar on his cheek twitched. His hand went for his gun.
Jed moved first, sliding sideways toward the doorway, cutting off their exit. The unnamed man’s eyes gleamed.
Blaze’s hand dropped toward his Colt, but Marisol moved faster. In one motion, she drew her Paterson, the long barrel glinting in the lamplight.
“Not in here,” she said.
Her tone was cold enough to freeze hell.
Benton hesitated, then laughed too loudly. “You think you can stop this? Wilder pays better than fear.”
The smallest of the three lunged. His hand slapped leather and tore his revolver free.
The first shot shredded a lamp from the wall. Oil and glass sprayed like rain. The room exploded into chaos.
“Down!” Marisol shouted.
Blaze hit the floor. A bullet screamed past his ear, splintering the table beside him. He rolled behind a chair as another shot cracked through the piano, silencing it for good.
Graycloud moved like smoke, diving behind the bar and grabbing his bow from behind him. He made one arrow fly, and the twitchy man spun, clutching his stomach before dropping to the boards.
“Two left!” Graycloud called.
Marisol fired from behind an overturned table, her Colt booming twice. Benton cursed, ducking low as wood splinters flew.
“Jed!” Benton barked.
“I see him!” Jed roared. He rushed forward, a shotgun in both hands, boots pounding hard on the boards.
Blaze came up on one knee, heart hammering. The barrel of Jed’s shotgun swung toward him, black as a grave.
“Got you now, kid,” Jed snarled.
Blaze didn’t think. He fired.
The Colt Navy kicked hard. The shot hit Jed in the center of the chest. The man’s eyes went wide, his breath leaving in a shocked gasp. His shotgun dropped. Jed fell back against the doorway, slid down, and didn’t move again.
For a heartbeat, Blaze could only stare. His hands shook. His stomach turned over. He’d killed before he even realized he’d made the choice.
“Blaze!” Marisol’s voice cut through the ringing in his ears. “Move!”
He blinked, dragging himself back to the moment.
“First one’s the worst,” Graycloud called from the bar. “Keep your head clear!”
Blaze took a breath that burned like smoke.
“Alright,” he muttered. “Alright.”
He slid beside Marisol, reloading with shaking fingers. “You good?” she asked.
“Think so,” Blaze said.
“You did good. Now keep doing it.”
They traded shots across the room. Benton fired from near the bar, his face streaked with blood from a grazing hit.
