Page 154 of New Storm Rising
“Crap!”
I jumped as, with a splintering sound, the bullet slammed into the horse trough beside me. I didn’t want to think about where it might have hit if it hadn’t been pitch-dark.
“Inside!” With the gentleness and care behoving a freshly married husband, Mr Ambrose grabbed me and chucked me into the second carriage. The bloody son of a…!
I would get my revenge!
Bam!
Later. When we weren’t being bloody shot at.
“Drive, Karim!” Vaulting into the coach behind me, Mr Ambrose slammed the door shut. “Drive!”
There came a thud from above us as the Mohammedan’s solid backside slammed firmly onto the box. Barking a command at the horses, he cracked the whip, and then we were off, racing out of the town and into the land beyond. Behind us, the thundering of hooves told me that Mr Ambrose’s remaining guards were hot on our heels. At least Ihopedit was them. Because the alternative…
Bam!
Yep. That was the alternative.
Suddenly, I felt a surge of anger rising up inside me. This was my honeymoon, dammit! My bloody honeymoon! And now these bastards, these sons of bloody bachelors, were chasing after me, shooting at me!
Well…
A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
If someone is being so kind as to provide honeymoon entertainment, the least I can do is repay their generosity, right? Reaching into the folds of my skirt, I pulled out my trusty revolver. With a flick, I checked the cylinder. Six bullets. Excellent. Pulling down a case from the luggage rack, I lifted the lid. Six thousand six hundred bullets. Even better.
My smile widened. I knew it had been a good idea to go on honeymoon well-prepared.
Pulling down the window of the coach, I leaned out just enough to look back. And there, right behind us, silhouetted against the setting sun, I could see several distant riders catching up to us.
“Hello, my lovelies,” I murmured. “Stay still and say cheese!”
***
“Stinking pile of snake shit!” Brass snarled, wiping the soot off his face with his massive paws. “Dynamite? Friggingdynamite? I thought those two were supposed to be some couple on honeymoon!”
“Interesting couple,” Wolf remarked. His face didn’t have a single trace of soot on it.
“Shut it, wolfboy! How the hell did you keep that smug face of yours in one piece, anyway? What were you doing?”
“Inspecting the back of the house for termites.”
Brass’s answer to that perfectly logical explanation was a string of curses.
“Settle down, you two!” Cobra ordered, voice cold, eyes intent on the horizon. “We’ve got a job to do!”
“Oh, I know.” Brass cracked his knuckles. “Trust me, I know. The moment I get my hands on that bastard I’ll—”
Bam!
Before he could get another word out, a bullet blew the hat from his head.
“Son of a…! I’m gonna gut that dirt bag!”
“Oh, that wasn’t him,” Wolf said, taking a casual puff from his cigarette. For some reason, he was suddenly riding at the back of the group, behind everyone else. “That was his lady wife, I believe.”
“God damn frigging spawn of a…! I’m gonna kill that tramp! I’m gonna slaughter her! I’m gonna—”
