by V. J. Timlin
“Aye.” Nat resumed reading.
Anouk skimmed through the article. There was nothing new she didn’t already know, with the exception that the fire brigade had prevented the fire from spreading to neighbouring warehouses. The knowledge was a minor consolation, and it didn’t stop the sharp knife of guilt twisting in her gut. In a way, she was partly responsible for the inferno and for the deaths of those eight men. People were going to get hurt; Nat had told her that early on. Four days ago she would have been morally outraged, but life had been very different then. Now, however, she couldn’t afford to be too sentimental or she would be dead. But still, it hurt. She curled her palm into a fist. Bloody Stalo… This was all his fault. Why had he wanted those eight dead as well? To what end?
“Nat, why did your kidnappers have to die? Did they fall out with you-know-who?”
Nat folded the paper and tucked it under his arm. “No. He just doesn’t tolerate failures, that’s all.”
Anouk swallowed. “But that’s so… cold-blooded.”
“Maybe so, but this isn’t the first time I’ve seen him executing people for failing to do his bidding,” Nat’s dark expression matched the hardness of his tone.
Anouk winced. What horrors had Nat seen under his rule?
“Nat, I’m…” Her voice trailed off. What could she say? Sorry was such an inadequate word. Every time she thought she knew Stalo, something new, more twisted was revealed about him. She wouldn’t have been surprised if his training to become the most sadistic warlord involved torturing kittens in a basement. Cold shivers ran down her back and her heart ached for Nat. She wanted to wrap her arms around him.
She opened her mouth to say something. Anything to express how sorry she was that he had to endure so much because of Stalo.
Nat grabbed her in his arms and pulled them both against the wall. His revolver had appeared in his hand.
Anouk squealed. “What the…”
At the same time, a gun was fired close by and the bullet whistled past the place they were standing just a second before, hitting a barrel on a parked trolley. Chaos broke loose. People started to scream and run, taking cover wherever they could find it. A horse neighed in terror and charged down the narrow lane, fanning the panic.
“Come!” Nat shouted over the screams. He broke into a run in the direction of the gunfire, pulling Anouk with him. She pumped her legs as fast as she could, trying her best to keep up with him. She didn’t want to slow him down, but neither did she want to fall. Death by trampling would not be a pleasant way to die.
She scanned for the shooter in the surrounding disarray. Why was he not trying to finish them off? Had he withdrawn because he didn’t get Nat with a single shot?
The shooter ran ten yards ahead of them, pushing people aside like a one-man snowplough, but the press of people slowed him down and they were gaining on him. He spun on his heels and aimed his revolver. Nat dodged to cover and dragged Anouk likewise. The gun went off again and a grunt of pain came from behind Anouk. She had enough time to see a man falling on the street before Nat hauled her forward again.
The assailant turned at the corner and vanished from sight. Nat slowed when they reached the same street corner and peeked around it.
“You don’t need to tow me.” Anouk’s breath was heavy with exhaustion.
Nat gave a nod, a grim expression on his face. “Keep close.” He darted into the new lane.
“Will do,” she muttered and forced her burning muscles to another sprint.
Her heart pounded in her ears and her lungs ached, but running on adrenalin, she managed to keep up. The chaos of fleeing people raged around her like a storm. A few times she almost got knocked over, but avoided it at the last second. Nat ducked aside, and she followed in an instant. More gunfire thundered over the screams and footfall.
Nat charged again.
“Come on, legs. You can do it.” Anouk spurted along the lane, keeping her eyes on Nat’s back. He hadn’t fired a single shot, although he was holding his revolver in his hand. She was sure Nat could shoot the man, but he was worth more alive. If he were one of Stalo’s men, he could tell them where the warlord was hiding. If he was someone with a bounty on his head, they would pocket the reward. But if he just had revenge in mind, they could turn him to the enforcers, regardless. Anouk just hoped her stamina held until they captured him.
Something moved on the edge of her vision. Before her conscious mind had processed the information, she instinctively spun and jumped sideways. A gun went off. The bang drummed her ear as the bullet passed it by a narrow margin.
“Nat!” she screamed. Her eyes caught sight of a revolver. She grabbed the wrist of the hand that held it, spun again, pulling the would-be assassin from his hiding place. The man yelped in surprise. Anouk continued her arching movement, lifting the man’s hand in a circular motion before she plunged it down into a wrist lock. The man’s feet left the ground and he rolled in the air, crying as much from surprise as from pain. He landed on the cobblestones head first. His skull hit the grounds with a sickening crack. He lay still on the lane, his eyes wide open.
Anouk stared at the man, her whole body shaking. Sweat poured from her forehead, her mouth dry with a bitter taste of bile in her throat. She had reacted so instinctively that her mind hadn’t formed a rational thought of what had just happened. She didn’t understand where all that had come from.
Someone touched her. She jumped, shooting an anxious gaze at the intruder—Nat. Her knees buckled and she would have dropped down next to the man if Nat hadn’t caught her.
“It’s over,” Nat said in a soothing voice.
Anouk looked down at her attacker again. Dark red blood pooled beside his head.
“Is he…” Anouk whispered, but failed to finish her question. She knew the answer anyway.
“Yes, he’s dead,” Nat said.
“I—” Anouk closed her eyes and swallowed. “I killed him?”
“It was self-defence. He and the other man appeared to be in this together. We were their targets. Though, I’m surprised there were only two men setting us an ambush. Maybe they saw us and decided to try and take the opportunity.”
Anouk leaned her head against Nat’s shoulder. “Stalo?” Her question was a mere whisper, but Nat heard it regardless of the noises of life resuming its normal course on the street now that all was clear again.
“Who else?” Nat said, next to her ear. “You handled that very well, partner.” There was a smile in his tone. And pride.
She couldn’t bring herself to feel that. She had killed a man. Yes, he would have killed her, but still.
“I… How…” She took a shaky breath. “I killed a man.”
“He would have killed you,” was all Nat said.
No matter how right he was, it didn’t make her feel any better.
Chapter 14
The morning traffic grew busier as Anouk and Nat got closer to the city centre. Nat had caught one of those steam-powered Rondon Taxis Anouk so wished to avoid. She strained her ears; she wanted to spot any anomalies in the rhythm of the taxi that might be a telltale sign of engine failure or a possible explosion developing. Rattling wheels and clunks from engines of the other steam carriages bounced off the surrounding buildings creating a cacophonous symphony and making her attempt futile.
“These vehicles are perfectly safe,” Nat said.
Anouk blushed and dropped her hand on her lap. She had been chewing her thumb. “If you say so.”
Nat winked and resumed watching the bustling streets. Anouk sighed. One thing was sure steam-powered vehicles worked as a good distraction. During their ride she hadn’t given a second thought to the man she’d killed the previous day. Well, not until now.
Following the attempt on their lives, Nat had taken her back to the camp and gone to meet other regular sources, taking Fitzwil with him. Anouk had stayed behind with Vari. She had been too numb to even protest the arrangement. Vari made her a herbal concoction to drink which ha
d tasted disgusting but it had helped her sleep. Still, the man’s empty, lifeless eyes haunted her, and she had woken up in cold sweat at the crack of dawn.
Nat, Vari and Fitzwil had reasoned how it had been self-defence. The rational side of her agreed. He had tried to kill her but still, it bothered her. He might have had a family who was now grieving their loss. The leap from being an accountant crunching numbers, to a bounty hunter ready to crush skulls at a moment’s notice was hard to digest.
Nat touched her hand. “This probably isn’t much consolation, but it’s good the man’s death bothers you. It means you haven’t lost touch with your humanity.”
Anouk tried to smile. “Thanks. How do you know what I’m thinking? Do you own a mind reading gadget as well?”
“Everyone has a first time. Taking a life is… well, it’s not something that should be done lightly, and you’re changed when it’s done, for better or worse.”
She looked down at her hands. They were clean. No trace of blood. Except in her mind. “Does it… does it bother you when you have to kill someone?”
“Every. Single. Time.” Empathy filtered into his quietly spoken words.
She nodded and turned her attention back to the world outside the carriage. Nat’s comments and confession warmed her. She wasn’t alone with her feelings and… he wasn’t a monster.
Their taxi arrived at Victory Square and stopped next to the main entrance of the Royal Anglean Constabulary headquarters.
While Nat paid for the ride, Anouk observed the passing vehicles and people, dreading seeing Stalo in their midst.
Nat tapped on her shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Anouk bobbed her head, and they started to stride up the steps. Her back itched as if they were being watched. She threw glances over her shoulder but failed to spot the pair of eyes that bore between her shoulder blades. Was she being paranoid or did other bounty hunters get the same kind of attention? The two dead bounty hunters came to her mind, giving Anouk cause to shudder. Where did Stalo get such resources?
The same charming Sergeant Rosmarus sat in the information booth, wearing his pained flower-wilting expression. Anouk was ready to bet he skipped joyously every day all the way to work.
“Is Chief Constable Loka in?” Nat asked.
“Yes, but…”
“Great, thanks. We know our way.” Nat placed his revolver on the desk and headed towards the stairs. Sergeant Rosmarus’ face turned crimson. He opened and closed his mouth without succeeding to utter the protest hanging on the tip of his tongue. His thick moustache vibrated under his potato nose to the rhythm of huffs. Anouk put her katana on top of Nat’s gun and trotted after him before she could witness the sergeant’s head exploding.
“Poor Sergeant Rosmarus. He’ll have a stroke at this rate,” Anouk whispered to Nat.
They walked into the chief constable’s office. Constable Ethini jumped up from behind his desk, his stature as rigid as a tin soldier. The welcome was different from the one she and Vari received.
Nat made a mock salute. “Hi constable, I understand the chief is in his office.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yes, but, please, if you could wait. He is on the phone, but should be free to see you in a minute.” Constable Ethini waved his hand towards the chairs against the wall.
“Thanks.” Nat headed to Loka’s office.
“But, sir!” the constable cried. Nat opened the door and vanished into the office as if hearing nothing. A gruff response came from within.
The colour vanished from Constable Ethini’s face, but he made no attempt to follow Nat and explain to the chief constable why he had failed yet again to prevent a bounty hunter from barging in.
“Sorry about that.” Anouk gave a sympathetic look to the young constable. Poor lad…
She joined Nat just when Chief Constable Loka was finishing his phone call. He didn’t acknowledge her in any way, not even to greet or ask her to sit down. Anouk found a seat next to Nat who was sitting with his right leg over his left, returning the chief constable’s glare with a lazy smile on his face.
“You had better have good news, so I can overlook you storming into my office uninvited.”
“I don’t know about good news, but we’ve made some progress,” Nat said, his tone pleasant.
“So you say.”
“Stalo hired eight men from The Pits to kidnap me which they duly did after I left here the last time. So, he still has money or has acquired it from a sponsor who supports his cause.”
“Eight men? Are they the same men whose burned bodies were found in the remains of Ibars’ warehouse?” The chief constable’s expression darkened. Anouk gulped. They would end up in jail. She glanced at Nat.
Nat remained calm. “Yes, they are.”
The chief constable crossed his arms. “Tell me, why I should not arrest you two for arson and eight murders?”
Anouk’s heartbeat picked up. He was right but they didn’t have any proof. Even so, it was their word against his. They were going to jail…
“Because we didn’t kill them or burn down the place. They used me as bait to get Miss Herring. And when it comes to the fire and the bodies, Stalo’s old loyal men were responsible for the killing then threw firebombs inside the building.”
Anouk admired how he kept cool, not giving any indication or information that the chief constable could latch on and use against them.
Chief Constable Loka leaned back in his chair and started to stroke his moustache. He plucked the coarse hair in silence, staring at the desk.
“Alright, I will not arrest you,” he said after a minute.
Anouk blew air out slowly in relief.
“For now,” the chief constable added.
Anouk tensed for a few seconds but then relaxed. He needed them… desperately.
Loka started to rap the top of his desk with her fingers, his brows knitted together. “It’s alarming news that Stalo has the means to hire so many.”
“Aye. As I told you last time, he asked Dr Arnar to join him. He’s planning something.”
Chief Constable Loka nodded. “So it seems. But what?”
“When it’s Stalo, the safest bet is revenge.”
The chief constable frowned. “Against whom? The king?”
Nat shrugged. “It’s possible. Ionnas III stripped Stalo of his titles, took his lands and sentenced him to death.”
“He escaped only a few days ago, so he has not had time to gather that many supporters yet. If he is going to move against the king, he needs more men.” Loka banged his fist on the table. “We have to act fast.”
Nat’s eyebrow lifted ever so slightly. “Let’s not forget he’s been on the run for years, most of which were out of the country, before he got caught. It looks like he’s been contacting his supporters rather than trying to recruit new ones. But you’re right, we don’t have much time.” Nat paused and lifted his other eyebrow. “Any new developments with your enquiries we should be aware of?”
The chief constable cleared his throat before answering, “No. Except, Rekka was found dead in The Pits.” He licked his bottom lip. “Killed execution style.”
Nat’s face hardened. “When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Who’s Rekka?” Anouk asked.
“A colleague,” Nat replied without looking at her. “Could be the same men who tried to shoot Miss Herring and me yesterday afternoon. One got away.”
Anouk didn’t listen to Nat relaying the details of the attack. All she could focus on was another dead bounty hunter. She swallowed. He could have been killed by anyone—angry relatives, a vengeful ex-prisoner or someone else with a bounty on his head, but somehow, she doubted it. Bounty hunters were a threat to Stalo, and she knew how Stalo dealt with threats. She glanced at Nat, who was waving his hands while he spoke. How long could they cheat death before Stalo got them?
The phone on the chief constable’s desk rang, making Anouk jump in her chair. The chief constable lifted th
e receiver. “Hello? Ah, the chief magistrate. Could you hold on a second before putting him through, sergeant?” He placed his hand over the mouthpiece. “Keep me informed, Nat.”
“You too, chief constable.” Nat stood up and bowed. “Good day.”
Loka nodded and shifted his focus to the phone. “Good morning, Chief Magistrate Cashan. What can I do for you?” His tone was polite as they left the office. Vari’s words about treating the high-ranking Angleans with more respect came to mind. Yes, even Loka had someone above him on the ladder, shitting on him if he didn’t behave.
“How well did you know Rekka?” Anouk asked as they descended the stairs.
Nat shrugged. “He was a big guy always spoiling for a fight. It’s surprising he wasn’t killed sooner.”
“Oh.” So, the bounty hunter community wasn’t one big happy family. Not that she had expected it would be, but this was the first time Nat had said anything even mildly negative about one of his colleagues. In fact, he had talked very little about them with the exception of Rose’s husband.
After collecting their weapons from Sergeant Rosmarus, they came out into Victory Square. Nat scanned the surroundings.
“See anything suspicious?” Anouk asked, browsing the people and the traffic. If there was something out of the ordinary, she was unable to spot it.
“No. Let’s get a taxi and pay a visit to Madam Valeria.” Nat waved at a steam-powered carriage that was just dropping off its passenger. The driver waved his hand in an acknowledgement and held the door open for them.
“Come on.” Nat patted Anouk’s arm and strode to the vehicle.
Anouk’s gut clenched. She didn’t want to see the madam but neither did she want to leave Nat. The last time he was on his own he got into trouble… and Madam Valeria was trouble with capital letters. She was sure of it, Nat just didn’t see it. She wasn’t going to bring up her reservation for the second time; he might interpret it as jealousy again. Typical man. She followed Nat, mentally preparing herself for the meeting. If the madam made her repulsive offer again, and Nat smirked, she would show them some of her katana skills. Then her step faltered for a second. Wait… getting a rise out of her was exactly what the madam would want. She gritted her teeth. Whatever happened in the brothel, one thing was sure—she couldn’t lose her cool.