Tip of the Spear (18 page)

“Or
die trying,” Isadora said.

“Or
die trying,” Yara repeated.

Thais
had known they would insist on coming. But she hadn’t been prepared for the
surge of relief that filled her, that she wouldn’t have to go alone. “Or die
trying,” she agreed. “No matter how long it takes, we will find the queen’s
crown. And when we are finished, the Territory men will be no more.”

Thais
groaned as a throbbing pain woke her from an all too familiar nightmare. With a
shaky hand, she felt the bandage wrapped around her temple. Gingerly rolling
and sitting up, she took stock in her surroundings. The thick bed she lay on
had a red coverlet made of a fabric so soft and fine, she’d never before seen
its like. Two draped windows sat on either side of the spacious room, the walls
of which were made of stacked logs, so tightly bound and packed, she knew that the
house’s owner possessed a great deal of wealth.

Finely-wrought
furniture: a card table and two chairs, a small buffet with a crystal decanter
and glasses, three massive armoires, a wash stand and mirror, and a stone
fireplace completed the room’s furnishings. Candlelight and precious oil lamps
illuminated the room, making her shadow loom large against the headboard behind
her.

She
pushed away from the headboard and stopped when she grew dizzy. It was then she
noticed that the slide of fabric against her legs felt wrong. She no longer
wore her clothing, but the dress Annie had given her. Even the tie holding back
her braid had disappeared.

After
yanking off the bandage around her head, she ran a hand through her hair and
frowned. No tangles, soft strands, as if it had been combed until it crackled. Very
strange.

Thais
didn’t waste any more time. She forced herself to her feet and took a deep
breath. The queasiness left her, enough to take a quick survey of the room. To
her relief, she found her knife in the drawer of a small table next to the bed.
The comforting weight of tempered metal eased her mind, until the doorknob
turned and the door opened.

“Ah,
beauty wakes.”

He
shut the door behind him and walked into the middle of the room. Taller than
Thais and much more broad, the man intimidated by simply breathing. His dark
brown eyes seemed to miss nothing as he let her look her fill. Light blond hair
reminded her of Bartel, but where Bartel’s eyes had looked lifeless, this
male’s gaze burned. Full of fire, of passion. A manic need sat just beneath his
air of civilized calm.

Scared
but not allowing herself to show any sign of weakness, Thais lifted her chin
and stared him in the eye. She held her knife ready, eager to find Hinto and
leave…which gave her pause. Where the hell was Hinto?

“Nervous?”
the stranger asked in a smooth voice.

An
Amazon shows only strength. We fear nothing.
We
are to be
feared.
Her mother’s guidance echoed in memory.

“Of
you?” Thais scoffed. She didn’t react when he stepped closer.

He
smiled. “I think you and I will get on quite well together. What’s your name?”

She
lifted a brow. “What’s yours?”

He
had the nerve to laugh. “Shit, you’ve got bigger balls than half my own men.”

Butch
McKenzie. Somehow, she’d been expecting a man who looked like the monster she
knew him to be. This Butch looked clean, well-groomed, and moved with an easy
grace.

When
she said nothing, he nodded with respect. “Butch McKenzie. Brother of the man
you’re looking for.”

“Oh?”

“You’re
a cool one, aren’t you?” His refined speech bothered her more than his manners.
“Your man wouldn’t give up a damned thing either. But I have confidence he’ll
talk soon.”

Hinto
was alive.
She wanted to slide to the ground in
relief. Instead, she stiffened her spine. “Why do you think I’m after your
brother?”

“Because
I have eyes and ears everywhere. This is my town, honey. My life’s blood. My
little brother’s not always so easy to manage, but he belongs to me.”

And
that attachment is going to cost you.
She stared at Butch McKenzie,
wondering how she should deal with him. Intelligent, wealthy, strong. Not an
easy target after all, except for his clear affection for a murderous brother—a
brother who couldn’t control himself, apparently, if he had to kill everyone he
took to bed.

“I’ve
told you my name. What’s yours?” he asked.

“Thais.”
An easy answer.
Cooperate with the enemy, draw them in, then slit their
throats while they watch.

 “Thais.”
Butch stepped so close she felt his breath fan her face. “Why are you after my
brother?”

This
near she could have gutted him, but he expected an attack. She could see it in
his eyes. The confidence he projected told her two things. He thought he could
overpower her, and he knew something she didn’t. Like where to find Hinto.

She
stayed her overeager hand, clasping her knife at her side. “I thought to take
his pistol.”

Butch
didn’t blink. “Why?”

“To
get information I need, I must bring word of Gregor’s death. Everyone knows he
goes nowhere without his gun.”

“Who
hired you?”

She
didn’t answer.

“So
you planned to kill him?” Rage fanned the darkness saturating his gaze.  

“If
necessary.” She added a shrug, careful to give the appearance of unconcern.

Butch
frowned and took a step back. “Why would you tell me this?”

“Why
wouldn’t I? It’s the truth.”

She
could see he didn’t know what to make of her. And an enemy off-balance was an
enemy she could defeat.

“Do
you think I’ll reward you for your honesty?”

“I
think you will kill me after you torture me.”

His
nostrils flared, not from anger, she realized, but from excitement.  Because he
looked forward to hurting her? Annie had said as much. Still, Thais thought
there was more to Butch than mere brutality. Something powerful drove this man,
and she didn’t think it was sex or love for his brother.

“You
look forward to your death, do you?” he whispered.

Thais
smiled. “I do not think you will find me so easy to kill.”

“Damn.
I knew you’d be like this.”

She
couldn’t help noticing his increasing arousal. His face flushed, and he
deliberately widened his stance, drawing her gaze to his evident erection. It
appeared Butch McKenzie liked opposition.

She
decided to test him.

Broadcasting
her attention at his stomach, she purposefully slowed a strike aimed at his
belly. Before he could block her, she reversed her blade and sliced along his
upper arm. She jumped back and waited for his response while blood welled on
his bicep.

He
rubbed a finger along the wound and licked a drop of blood from the digit.

“Is
that all you’ve got?”

Understanding
he wanted her to try again, she aimed her knife at his throat. He blocked her 
and countered with a blow that grazed her rib cage. He didn’t hurt her much,
but only because she’d moved when she’d sensed his intent. Their altercation
satisfied one question she’d had.

Butch
McKenzie was much more than a simple brawler. He knew how to read his
opponent’s moves and adapted quickly.

He
stared at her, his lips parted. His tongue ran over the fleshy softness of his
mouth. The few times she’d been unable to look away from Hinto’s mouth, she’d
found the movements of his lips and tongue erotic. On Butch, the gesture appeared
obscene.

“Thais,
I can see your tits through that gown. How do you think they’ll feel in these
hands?” Lust twisted his face into a gruesome leer. He glanced at his curled
fingers for a moment. And then, as if a switch had been thrown, he stepped back
from her and composed himself. “My apologies for any crudeness rendered. Perhaps
it would be best if I left you to settle in.”

Now
she was the one feeling off-balance, and she didn’t like it one bit. “Why don’t
you give me Gregor’s gun and I’ll leave?” She didn’t expect him to comply, but curiosity
compelled her to make the offer.

Butch
walked to the door, stopped, and turned around. “You’ll leave? But Thais, I
don’t want you to leave.” His assessment left no doubt as to what he wanted
from her. “Did you know white is my favorite color next to red? It’s so pure,
so untouched.”  He smiled, and she suppressed a shiver.

Madness
seethed in the man’s eyes.

 “But
white can’t compare to red. Red is the color of blood. The color of Hinto,
right about now.” Butch paused, locked onto her eyes. “Good night, Thais. I’ll
see you again in the morning. Keep your dagger close and enjoy your evening. It’s
the last one you’ll be spending alone while you’re here.”

He
closed the door after him. The lock sounded especially loud in the silence.

The
fear she’d been doing her damnedest to hold at bay trickled through, and she
wiped hastily at unbidden tears.

Ashamed
to feel such dread when her tribe had been through so much worse, Thais forced
herself to be strong. Butch McKenzie was only a man. A crazy one, a bad one,
but still, just that. He had weaknesses. Namely, his brother and his own
arrogance.

Thais
had been through much in her life, too much to concede to one man. Trained to
fight, to be stronger than the strongest in her village, she’d been selected
out of dozens to guard the royal line. She’d helped her remaining sisters,
Yara, Luiza and Isadora, to overcome all kinds of obstacles on their way to
recover the queen’s crown. Through foreign lands filled with monsters, men and
animals. Through a language barrier, through the hate that had left them so
bitter and alone those first few months. She needed to focus on her own keen
abilities, to build her confidence while the enemy sought to drown her in fear
and doubt.

Keep
your dagger close and enjoy your evening. It’s the last one you’ll be spending
alone while you’re here.

The
fool should never have given her back her dagger. She took power from the hilt,
from the memories woven into the knife’s construction. Many an enemy had bled
on this blade, passed down from her ancestors. From her mother.

Thais
clutched the weapon tight and drew on the training she’d received. Aliane would
never have wept. Her mother would have spent her time looking for ways to
escape and overpower the enemy.

The
warrior within her told her what to do. First, she needed to purge herself of
all worry.

Taking
a deep breath, Thais concentrated on success. She visualized the McKenzie’s
defeat at her hands. A soothing calm, one filled with purpose and a desirable end
state, steadied her hands.

The
white shift she wore would shine like a beacon in the dark. Undressing, she sought
something else to wear in one of the armoires. Though the fit overwhelmed her,
a belt secured the dark trousers around her waist and she rolled up the cuffs. A
deep blue long-sleeved shirt covered her torso and arms. Using her knife, she
cut a strip of fabric from her overlong pants. She tied it around a tight braid
and readied herself for the first part of her escape plan.

Reconnaissance.

Without
knowledge of Hinto’s whereabouts, she couldn’t leave the compound.  McKenzie
would have guards posted at the door and outside the windows. A glance under
the door crack showed feet, and an inspection of the windows gave her the same
impression. Looming shadows outside spoke of not just two, but four guards
standing ready.

She
closed the drapes tight and turned down the oil lamps. The lone candle glinting
in the darkness gave her the detail she needed. The fireplace’s chimney had
just enough space to fit a slender warrior bent on escape. Wiping soot on her
hands, she used what she could to coat any part of her skin that might be
visible. Her face, her neck, the backs of her hands and forearms.

That
done, she shoved a wooden chair under the doorknob to make sure no one entered
while she was gone. Tucking her knife into a makeshift pocket, she latched on to
the uneven rock of the fireplace and started to climb. High above, clouds
suddenly covered the bright moon. A sign from the Goddess to hurry.

Thais
didn’t have to be told twice to move. In short order, she cleared the stone. Now
to find her wayward partner.

***

Hinto
tried, but he couldn’t help groaning when someone yanked his head up by his
hair.

“You
have to hold his head up, Ralph.”

“I
am, stupid. Hit him again. The boss wants him bloody.”

“No
shit, asshole. His blood’s all over my hands. I’m done.”

Ralph
let go of his hair and his head fell forward, putting more strain on his neck. He’d
woken to one helluva beating. Held against the wall of a barn in shackles, his
whole body hurt. He could still feel a slug imbedded in his thigh, and another
had grazed his calf but hadn’t done more than bleed him. Thanks to the Nolans,
his left eye had swelled so badly he couldn’t see through it, and his cracked
lips burned from the enemies’ fists rubbing against them with every blow.