Tainted (The Soul Chronicles Book 1) Page 17

  “You have a choice now, Grey.” Jake checked the chamber of his revolver. “Turn her over to us and we’ll give you a ten percent cut. Or . . .” He snapped the chamber shut.

  Stephen grabbed his gun and dove for the nearest table.

  23

  Shots ricocheted across the wall behind Stephen the moment his knees hit the floor. He used his momentum to roll to the table and, with a hard shove with his shoulder, lifted it up and onto its side. The wood was thick enough to stop the bullets, but he wouldn’t last long under this barrage.

  The slugs hit the side of the table with loud thunks. Bits of wood shot into the air, and one bullet left a trail across the wooden floor to his right.

  He glanced at the stairs behind him. He couldn’t let the men get to Kat. He had to defend the stairs. Even if it cost—

  “Not right now,” he muttered and drew out his other gun.

  One, two, three.

  Stephen lifted his head above the table and sent two shots toward Jake and Piers. Both men ducked behind the bar.

  A whine filled the dark corner where Rodger stood and lightning arced around his prosthetic arm-cannon.

  What the—

  Stephen ducked just as a white beam sailed over his head, singeing the ends of his hair, and hit the wall behind him.

  Boom!

  The floor shook. Stephen maintained his balance on his knees and hands. Acrid smoke filled his nostrils, along with the smell of burnt hair. He looked back and found a gaping hole in the wall with smoke spewing from the edges. That was close. A couple more inches and his head would have disintegrated.

  He crawled back to the table, his revolvers still in his hands. A mug lay nearby where it had rolled off during the fight. Setting one of his guns down, he grabbed the mug and flung it into the air. Gunshots went off and ceramic pieces rained down on his head. Something moved over to the left, past the table.

  Stephen brought his other revolver up and shot.

  A man yelped and dove out of sight.

  “Stay out of the way,” Jake yelled over the din.

  Stephen pressed his lips into a grim line. He must have hit one of the two investigators.

  A couple more shots ricocheted off the top of the table and another whine filled the room.

  Another beam.

  Stephen curled up into a ball near the left side of the table. How accurate was that cannon of Rodger’s?

  The beam slammed into the right side of the table, shoving it a couple of inches and leaving behind a burned half-moon hole along the right edge.

  Gunshots hit the left side. A bullet grazed Stephen’s shoulder, leaving a stinging wound. He grunted and gritted his teeth, moving the table back in place with his right shoulder. If he didn’t take Rodger out soon, the man was going to blow the whole place up.

  He took a deep breath and picked up his other revolver. One . . . two . . . three . . .

  He leaned to the right and shot twice at the corner.

  Rodger had moved.

  Stephen swung back into the protection of the table, both guns now in his hands.

  “Stephen, what the blazes are you doing? The woman is not worth dying over,” Jake yelled.

  Stephen snorted.

  “This is your last chance to hand her over.”

  Stephen adjusted his grip on his revolvers. He didn’t know why there was a bounty on Kat’s head, but he needed to find out for himself. “I don’t think so.”

  There was a pause.

  “Then so be it.”

  A volley of shots hit the table, blasting away the wood.

  Sweat poured down his face and tension squeezed his shoulders. He leaned against the table and stared at the stairway. If it were any other men, he might have a chance at making it out of this fight alive. But Jake, Piers, and Rodger weren’t ordinary men. And they would kill him to get to their bounty.

  Stephen closed his eyes. God. He let his breath out. He hadn’t prayed in years, not since Vanessa . . . except at his aunt’s grave. At the time, he’d thought that had been only for Aunt Milly’s sake, but the truth was, he still believed in God. And would soon meet Him.

  I just don’t want to meet you this way. I’m . . . I’m sorry.

  A shot ripped through the table near his left ear. Stephen swung around, crouched by the table, guns in hand.

  I don’t deserve it, but help me save Kat. And if I live, then we can talk.

  Stephen snorted. Actually, if he died, they would be talking as well.

  Just give me one chance to make things right. Then you can take me.

  Stephen took a quick breath and blew it out through his lips. He gripped the revolvers. He would have one chance to take one, maybe two of the men out before they blasted him. He visualized Piers, that spot just below his ascot tie. And Jake’s heart.

  One. Two. Three.

  “Stephen!”

  What the—

  Stephen swung around.

  Kat stood near the middle of the stairway.

  His face flushed and his hands shook. “Kat! What the blazes are you doing?”

  Bullets flew overhead, sending Stephen to the ground. He panted and clenched his teeth. Could things get any worse?

  24

  Kat gasped and flattened herself against the side wall. The room spun for a moment and bile filled her mouth. I shouldn’t have come down. I’m in no condition to help.

  No. She clenched her hand and swallowed. I won’t let Stephen fight alone.

  Across the room, beyond the haze, stood three men next to the counter: one in a white suit with matching hat, one in what looked like a brawler’s outfit, and one with . . .

  Did he have a cannon for an arm?

  “There she is!” The tattooed brawler pointed toward Kat. “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!”

  There was a loud whine and arcs of light appeared around the big man’s strange prosthetic.

  “Rodger, don’t—”

  A white beam shot from the cannon, sizzled across the room, and hit the left side of stairs. The stairway exploded into a shower of wooden planks and splinters.

  Kat fell to the ground and threw her arms up over her head. Wood rained down on her, slicing across her arms and cheek.

  Someone leaned over her and pushed her down even further. Hot breath blew against her cheek. “Kat, what are you doing here?”

  Kat looked up at Stephen. “I heard shots and—”

  “So you came downstairs?” Stephen grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the table nearby, propped on its side. A shot followed them, barely missing Stephen.

  She scowled. “It’s not like that! If you’re in trouble because of me, I won’t wait up in my room while you’re shot at! I’ve already lost one person I care about, I won’t lose—”

  Her eyes went wide, and her gaze collided with Stephen’s. Had she almost admitted she cared about him?

  He crouched lower, his eyes growing wild. “Listen, you need to run. You need to get out of here.”

  “Not without you!”

  “You can’t help me!”

  Kat stared back, her face hard. Yes, she could. The moment she heard gunshots from her room upstairs, she’d chosen to come down here and do whatever she could to save Stephen. Even use her power if need be.

  Another volley of shots hit the top of the table.

  They both ducked.

  Sweat streamed down Stephen’s face, and his breath was ragged. Kat read their fate in his body language. There was only one way they were both getting out of here alive.

  Her stomach coiled tightly inside her middle. Could she do it? Could she unleash her power and control it?

  Stephen raised his revolvers. “There is a back door to the right. I’ll cover you.”

  Movement caught her eye.

 
The man with tattoos sidled to the right of the table and raised his revolver.

  Kat threw her hands out. “Stephen, watch out!”

  Stephen turned, but she knew it would be too late.

  It was now or never.

  The man pulled the trigger.

  Kat closed her eyes and let the dark heat fill her. It responded, exploding across her body with such force that it lifted her to her feet and blew her hair and skirt back. Laughter bubbled up her throat, but she held it back. She was in control this time, not the power.

  She opened her eyes.

  Time had stopped.

  Everything stood still. Stephen in a half-turn. The tattooed man, his arm extended, his finger on the trigger. A glint of silver in the air. The bullet. Even the air had stopped. Smoke, drifting a second ago, now stood frozen in mid-air.

  She could see every particle inside the room and felt each particle’s connection with the power inside her, like a web.

  She could control matter.

  Insane laughter filled her throat, but Kat clamped her lips shut. No, she would not lose control.

  She focused on the tiny bullet hanging in the air. Its trajectory would take it directly toward Stephen’s head.

  Move away.

  The bullet wobbled.

  Now.

  The bullet whizzed across the room and embedded itself in the wall to the right.

  Flashes of red filled her vision.

  No, fight it! I can’t lose control.

  The men, she needed to take care of the men.

  Kat raised her arms. Burn them, burn them! Just like last time!

  “Noooo!” She tapered off with a scream and waved her hands. Like a puppet, the man with the tattoos rose into the air. Kat threw her arms toward the wall where the bullet had disappeared moments before. The man hit the wall without blinking and fell to the ground, silent.

  A chuckle left her throat.

  All of them. Do it to all of them!

  The rest of the frozen figures rose at her command: the one in the white suit, the one with the strange cannon-arm, Marty, and two others she spotted to the left. They hung in the air, their legs dangling beneath them. No one blinked, no one said a word.

  With another yell, Kat waved her arms. The men zipped across the room toward the wall where the first one lay on the ground. They each hit with a loud thud and tumbled to the ground on top of each other.

  Sweat trickled down the side of her face, but Kat hardly noticed. The power burned inside her. She could do anything. Just a squeeze of her fingers and she could close the distance between matter. Or ignite it. Yes, she liked igniting things.

  Laughter gurgled inside her throat, and the air around her began to churn, whipping her skirt around her ankles and pulling her hair back.

  The tables around the room vibrated and chairs skidded across the floor. One bottle, then two crashed to the floor behind the bar.

  Kat raised her hands even higher and laughed.

  Something caught her eye.

  She paused and glanced down. Stephen knelt at her feet, still in a half-turn.

  Stephen.

  I need to stop.

  The fire roared inside her, threatening to drown her in flames. Darkness spread across her eyes, and she heard laughter—high-pitched and eerie. It was her but not her. As if she had split in two and the other Kat was in control.

  No, this isn’t me! She struggled toward the surface of her consciousness, pushing against the dark waves dragging her down. No! Don’t let me drown! Don’t let it take me over.

  Kat raised one hand toward the ceiling. “God, help me!”

  25

  Stephen couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, could barely breathe.

  She was a demon. Or a monster. Like a witch out of those old fairytales his mother read to him when he was young.

  But how? There was no such thing as magic.

  Kat’s terrifying laughter turned to a gurgle and a gasp. She dropped one hand, but held the other up toward the ceiling. “God, help me!”

  Was she crying out to God? Would a monster do that?

  His body unfroze and Stephen collapsed onto the ground. Kat fell behind him into a sobbing heap.

  The pile of men began to groan.

  What do I do? Stephen glanced at Kat. A part of him recoiled from her. She was not like him, not like anyone else in this room, or perhaps in this world. She had just moved a bullet and thrown six grown men against the wall with only her mind.

  I don’t even want to touch her!

  Kat sobbed and pressed both fists to her eyes.

  His heart slowed and an ache filled his throat. This woman lying on the ground, she was not the monster from moments ago. That had been the other Kat, the one he’d glimpsed in their room two days ago. This Kat was human. Broken, scared, and in danger if she stayed here much longer.

  He couldn’t leave her here.

  Stephen grabbed his guns, struggled to his feet, and stumbled over to Kat. He bent down and turned her around. “Let’s go.” Before she could answer, he gathered her up in his arms.

  She gasped, then clutched the front of his shirt. “Please, Stephen. Hel—help me.” Her face was pale and her eyes dilated.

  Stephen worked his mouth, part of him moved, the other part still horrified by what he had witnessed.

  Her eyes fluttered, then shut. Her body went limp.

  “Kat?” He gave her a shake.

  The men groaned again behind him.

  Stephen held her loosely, almost afraid the other Kat would awaken. But he wouldn’t leave her here, not in the clutches of Jake, Piers, and Rodger.

  Stephen carried Kat to the back door and outside. He would make his way through the alleys and side streets until he found a ride back to World City. He would also find a way to send a message to Jerod to find out the details on Kat’s bounty.

  In any case, he wasn’t going to keep her for long, only long enough for her to tell him the truth. She owed him that much.

  Twenty minutes later, at the edge of Covenshire, he signaled a coach at the crossings. His arms ached and sweat poured down his face. Kat never moved. The only evidence of life was the slow but steady rise and fall of her chest and the intake of breath every few seconds.

  The coach pulled to a stop beside the dirt road and the horses snorted and whinnied. Birds chirped in nearby trees, enjoying the rare glimpse of sunshine.

  “Something wrong with your wife?” the driver asked as he opened the door along the side of the carriage.

  Stephen ignored the marital reference. “She’s sick. I need to get her back to World City as soon as possible.”

  “What about a doctor here?”

  “She needs a special doctor.” Was that why she was looking for Dr. Latimer? Did she hope he could cure whatever it was she did back there?

  The driver took a step back. “Not contagious, I hope.”

  Stephen shook his head. “No. But it is dire that we make it back by sundown.”

  The driver nodded and kept his distance, leaving Stephen to maneuver Kat inside the cabin. The leather seats squeaked as he settled her in the far corner. He joined her a couple of seconds later and the driver closed the door behind him.

  Kat was still out cold, but some color had returned to her lips and cheeks. Her head lay wedged in the corner, and her breath came out in shallow puffs. Her hair flowed around her shoulders like liquid chocolate.

  Stephen settled in the other corner, his arms folded, and stared at her face. The coach gave a lurch and started forward.

  Slowly the morning caught up to him. And as it did, he began to burn inside. At the very beginning, when Kat had first walked into his office, he had asked her to be honest with him. That’s all. Just be upfront. He knew she had kept some things from him. But this went beyon
d small details. She should have told him about the warrant! Or about this—this power she possessed!

  He clenched his hands and breathed through his nose. Instead, Kat had lied to him!

  He turned away from her and stared out the window, his body tense. Once again he had been lied to by a woman. He had fallen for a pretty face and then, wham! The truth had knocked him upside the head.

  But she didn’t really lie.

  She didn’t exactly tell me the truth.

  Perhaps there is a misunderstanding.

  Her bounty is high enough to send three of the top bounty hunters after her!

  Stephen glanced at Kat from the corner of his eye. What could she have done to warrant such a large bounty? Was it . . . was it that power of hers?

  He turned and stared out the window again. Gnarled black oaks and fields of green grass flew by the glass pane.

  He snorted. All of it made some sort of sense now: the bounty from the Tower and Kat’s search for that doctor. He could well imagine the Tower would want to study someone like her. And the doctor—Dr. Latimer—did she hope he could cure her?

  What exactly had she done back there? And . . .

  Was he safe?

  Was anyone safe around her?

  There was a small sigh, then something heavy fell against his shoulder. Stephen looked over to find Kat had shifted in the seat and now lay against his side, pinning him to the corner.

  His pulse quickened, then he frowned. How could someone so small do what Kat had done back at the inn? He lifted his hand, paused, then pushed her hair back from her face. Her lashes were dark against her skin, which now had full color. A sigh escaped her lips and he felt that same tug inside from hours ago.

  “Kat, what are you?” he whispered. “What happened to you?”

  Would she tell him?

  A half hour later they reached Stonefield. Stephen took a couple of minutes and sent a telegram to Jerod inquiring after any high priced bounties on women, and told Jerod to send his reply to Lyndown where they would stop for lunch.

  Kat continued to sleep inside the coach. Whatever had happened that morning, it had tuckered her out.

  After obtaining fresh horses at Stonefield, the coach continued along the country road at a good clip. Morning passed and noon approached. His stomach rumbled in hunger.