Page 58 of The Soul of a Rogue

Her skirts finally settled to her satisfaction, Rune started up into the carriage. “I can imagine most men would hate anyone that was hoping for their death.”

“Which Sangton has been for years. He’s never bothered to hide his salivating on the title.”

“Stop right there, you cur.” The shout from behind him cut through the air and Rune spun on the carriage step, all his nerves on alert.

Walking toward them—horribly awkward, each step a limp with a screech from his lips and his face red and sweaty—Sangton barreled toward them as fast as his heavily bandaged groin area allowed him.

A pistol waving in each of his hands, his face had twisted into a grotesque mask of hatred. “Move aside, Smith. She’s not going to survive this.”

Rune jumped from the step, slamming the carriage door shut and blocking Elle from his view. “You had your chance to kill me, Sangton.”

Sangton’s right hand swung one of the pistols maniacally in the air. “I’m not going to kill you—I’m going to kill the cause of all this—that blasted harpy that set this all in motion.”

“Rune—”

His hand flipped up, silencing Elle behind him as his voice dipped to a low growl. “Don’t move, Elle.”

He had to keep her in the carriage—behind the scant protection the wooded wall offered. Silent and hidden.

Deadly ice flooding his veins, Rune’s look skewered Sangton, every word filled with vicious intent. “You take another step toward Elle and I will kill you this time. Kill you without a thought.”

“You don’t even have a gun, you stupid buffoon.” Sangton’s feet stopped, his right hand still flinging about, his finger on the trigger. “Do you not see what she is? How you’ll end up just like me?” Spittle sprayed with each word. “A castrated dupe. You’re an imbecile if you think it will turn out any different with that witch.”

Blast.Sangton stopped too far away. He needed him closer to attack.

Rune willed him forward but Sangton stayed in place. Damn, that he didn’t have a loaded pistol on him—just the blades he always carried on his person. His pistols were in the carriage as he’d planned to load them once they were underway to port.

Both of Sangton’s pistol-holding hands flew through the air. “Move aside, Smith.”

Rune’s lip curled. “Not on your life.”

“Move,” Sangton screeched, a mad animal that wasn’t to be reasoned with.

“I let you live, Sangton.”

Sangton pointed the left pistol down at his groin. “With this, you bloody bastard? With this? I wasn’t going to kill you—two shots in my hands and all for that bitch behind you, but you make me rethink that, Smith.” Sangton shifted the pistol in his right hand, leveling the barrel at Rune.

Bloody hell.

A sudden blur in black rushed in from the left, a gleaming silver pistol thrusting out to aim at Sangton’s temple, pressing into his skin. “Drop your pistols, Sangton.”

Rune had to blink once. Twice.

Shit.

Sangton he could handle. This…this was another mess altogether.

Hoppler.

Here.

“Don’t give me a reason, Sangton.” Hoppler dug the pistol deeper into Sangton’s temple. “And know that the slightest twitch is a reason.”

“Yes, yes, yes.” Sangton’s voice pitched into a high squeal and his hands went up, both pistols pointing to the sky.

“Set them on the ground and remember how close I am to pulling this trigger,” Hoppler said, his voice bored.

Sangton bent over awkwardly and set both of the pistols onto the ground, his hands snapping away as though his fingers were burning. He stood.

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