Dancing with Shadows by Bridie Henderson

Author:Bridie Henderson [Henderson, Bridie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-08-30T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Quinn retrieved her throwing knife from the fallen soldier, a young, pretty woman with blood marring her blonde hair and flecked over her blue eyes. Like Shay’s… a cruel voice whispered in her ear and she batted it away. There would be time to lament her actions later. Right now, there was a fight to win. She raced to the tavern door, peeking in the dirty window and no more able to see inside than she had been earlier. Instead of waiting or listening, she kicked the door with her bare foot, vaguely feeling the impact of it and leaped inside, her jump turning into a roll as she landed on the whiskey stained wooden floor. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting but what she found certainly wasn’t it. Standing from her crouched position slowly and confused, she cocked an eyebrow. The large woman and small man she had seen earlier were still in the same position they had been but now a small silver object sat between them and three unconscious soldiers lay on the ground beside them and that wasn’t the craziest part. On the other side of the tavern, two more soldiers sat at the bar, each drinking a glass of whiskey, a Mech mutt sat beside them, his large metallic head resting on his silver paws.

“It’s your turn,” the soldier closest to her muttered.

“No it isn’t. I did it last time. You do it.”

“Flip you for it?”

Just then, Slade burst through the door. The soldiers turned, looked over at him, nodded and then went back to their discussion.

“What the hells?” Slade murmured and she nodded, equally as confused. Twirling her knife she walked a little closer, eyeing the Mech mutt with distrust.

“Seven Hells, I guess it is my turn.” The second soldier grumbled, having lost the coin toss. He pulled a small blade from his belt and climbed down from his bar stool. He was tall, not as tall as Slade or Aaron but tall enough.

“Your turn for what?” Slade asked, while she lifted her knife poised and ready.

“To take out the last soldier,” he muttered, moving around her with a frown… as though she were the crazy one.

“You mean the blonde outside?” Slade asked, his own blade at the ready. “She took care of it,” he finished, nodding towards her.

“Ah… excellent. Thanks,” the soldier smiled at her, a large toothy grin that made her want to smile back despite herself and took his place back at the bar, resuming his drinking.

“Who are you?” Slade asked angrily, discomfited by the lack of fighting. So was she.

“Oh sorry, I’m Dax, this is Colt. The rebellion is at your service.” Dax, the toothy one, gave a little bow from his seated position with a flourish of his arm.

“You’re with the rebellion?”

“What’s left of it,” Colt grumbled beside him, not looking up. Apparently Dax was the friendlier one.

“Ignore him. You must be Aaron’s brother?”

“That’s right. Why did you bring a battalion of soldiers here?” Slade growled, apparently unappreciative of the intrusion.

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