Chapter 7
Evan hadn’t slept worth a damn. He hadn’t expected to, not with the chaotic events of the last few days playing on his mind. Add to that the fact that his chair was hard and his head kept lolling at an angle that made his neck ache, it was no wonder that sleep had eluded him.
But that wasn’t the real problem. The real problem was Ruby Douglas, stretched out only a few feet away.
In the stillness, he could hear her every breath, soft and steady like a whisper through trees.
And the occasional snore. A gentle one, nothing like the thunderous racket of a drunken sailor, but enough to make his lips twitch into a half-smile.
He knew she was trouble. Worse than trouble, if she was a noblewoman running from her husband, as he suspected she was.
If he wasn’t careful, he could have an irate husband on his tail as well as a notorious warlord.
Aye, Ruby Douglas was a distraction he could not afford if he wanted to get out of his latest predicament alive.
He shifted in the chair, rubbing the back of his neck and muttering under his breath. God above, what had he been thinking? He should have left her on the jetty and been done with it.
Then he heard it.
A sound. A scrape. Soft, but sharp enough to prick every sense awake. Not the careless shuffle of a drunkard heading home, nor the lazy step of a watchman. No, this was quieter. Stealthy.
Evan rose from the chair without a sound, his fingers automatically finding the dagger at his belt. Crossing to the window, he leaned just enough to peer through the sliver of opening.
The street below was drowned in shadow. A lantern swayed far down at the corner, throwing just enough light to show the movement of figures slipping through the dark like wolves on a hunt. Not one man—several.
“Shite,” he growled under his breath.
He left the room without waking Ruby and padded down the stairs with practiced stealth. Out in the street he paused and pressed himself against the wall of the inn, listening. The night air hit his lungs, sharp and cold, washing away the last vestiges of sleep.
The first shadow passed close, unaware. Evan struck, swift as a striking snake. His arm locked around the man’s throat and squeezed. The man kicked and fought, but Evan hung on until the man lost consciousness, then dragged him into the darkness of an alley.
Another came. Evan moved like a shadow—dagger flashing, fists striking, silent and efficient. Within minutes, two men lay slumped, hidden from sight, unconscious but still breathing.
Evan went still, crouching in the darkness. He tried to calm his heaving breaths so that he could listen.
Boots echoed faintly. More footsteps. More men. Too many.
His heart thudded against his ribs. He instinctively knew they’d come for him. And if they found Ruby—
He cast one last glance at the fallen men, then glided back up the street, moving fast. Once he reached the inn, he slipped up the stairs as quietly as possible. He had to get Ruby out of here.
Because if they didn’t flee now, neither of them would see the dawn.
RUBY STIRRED, HALF-waking, to the scrape of metal and the creak of floorboards as somebody moved. For a minute she thought she was still dreaming—the dark room, the unfamiliar scents of smoke and damp wood. Then her eyes focused.
Evan stood in the middle of the room, back to her, strapping a belt of knives across his chest. His hair was mussed, but his movements were quick, efficient. On the chair beside him lay two more daggers, their edges glinting faintly in the candle stub’s weak light.
Ruby pushed herself up onto her elbows. “What...what’s wrong?”
He turned, eyes hard. “Get up. We have to go. Stay close to me. Dinna speak unless ye must.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
His eyes glinted dangerously as he met her gaze. “They’ve found me.”
She felt the blood drain from her face. She scrambled to her feet, hastily running her fingers through her tangled hair, glad she’d slept in her clothes. Her mouth felt dry as she tried to swallow down the knot of fear that suddenly tightened her throat.
She followed Evan from the room into the narrow hall, then down the back stairwell.
They slipped into the darkened kitchen, the fire in the hearth guttering low, and crossed it in silence.
Evan paused at the back door only long enough to check the coast was clear before he was pulling her into the darkness of the night.
Quick as shadows, they moved through the sleeping settlement and down to the docks where their boat waited. But as they approached the vessel, Ruby’s breath caught. A man wrapped in a dark cloak stood in front of it.
The man stepped forward, his face split into a grin that chilled her blood. “Ah, Campbell. There ye are. So good of ye to come to us. MacInnes would like a word with ye.”
Evan waved a nonchalant hand. “Would he? Then I’m afraid he’ll have to get in line. I’m a little busy right now.”
The man grinned. “Ye always were a cocky bastard, Campbell. Always thought that highborn blood of yers made ye better than the rest of us. But ye are not. Ye are just another kind of gutter rat like the rest of us.”
The man lunged, blade flashing. Evan met him head-on, steel clashing loudly in the darkness. Ruby could do nothing but press herself back against the wall, useless, terrified. Evan twisted, disarmed the man with brutal efficiency, and slammed him into the dock railing.
The man staggered, dazed. And Ruby—before she could think better of it—shoved him with all her strength.
He toppled over the railing with a shout, arms flailing, then vanished into the black water with a splash.
Ruby froze, appalled and shocked at her own action. Then the thump of boots sounded as more men emerged from where they’d been hiding on the boat.
Evan grabbed her wrist. “Move.”
They sprinted away from the docks. Ruby’s head was whirling—fear, guilt, adrenaline. Had she really just done that? Had she really just pushed a man into the sea? Would he be okay? His friends would fish him out, wouldn’t they?
“Where are we going?” she panted.
“Away from here,” was the only answer she got.
She forced herself to think, despite the fear fluttering in her chest. In the kitchen, on the way out of the inn, she’d seen a stack of loaves, a basket of apples, blankets thrown over a chair.
They’d need them. If they ran, if they hid, food and warmth would be the difference between surviving and starving.
“Wait,” she hissed, pulling out of Evan’s grip.
“What are ye doing?” he snapped, skidding to a halt and turning to face her.
Without answering, she ran back through the dark streets to the inn, and slipped into the kitchen.
She grabbed what she could—bread, fruit, two rough blankets—and bundled them against her chest. Her fingers trembled as she unclasped a bracelet from her wrist, one of the few pieces of jewelry she still carried. She laid it on the table as payment.
When she rejoined Evan, he was scowling, but his gaze flicked to the bundle in her arms. He said nothing, just jerked his head toward the street. They fled again, faster now, the sounds of pursuit echoing faintly behind them.
Ruby clutched the blankets tighter. She wondered how much longer she could afford to pay for survival with pieces of her past. At this rate, she’d have nothing left at all.
As they fled inland, the buildings receded, and the muddy streets soon gave way to rough earth and tangled grass.
The air smelled of sea-salt and peat smoke, fading as the houses fell away.
Dawn was only just breaking as they left the settlement behind, a pale wash of light crawling across the horizon.
Ruby’s breath burned in her chest. She hadn’t run like this since school—and then it had been for a bus, not her life. She clutched the bundle of blankets and food like a lifeline, stumbling but refusing to let go.
Evan slowed finally, drawing them into the shelter of a hedgerow. He crouched low, listening, his chest heaving though his eyes remained sharp.
Ruby slumped to the damp ground, fighting to catch her breath. “Do... do you think they followed?”
He didn’t answer, instead peering back toward the settlement that was little more than a cluster of silhouettes against the brightening sky beyond.
His shoulders remained tense, like a bowstring drawn too tight.
Then, at last, he shook his head. “Not yet. But they’ll be looking.
Damn it all. Seems MacInnes really wants to talk to me. ”
“Why?” Ruby asked. “What exactly did you do to him?”
He glanced at her, and Ruby could tell he was considering a lie. Then he sighed.
“Cheated him one too many times I guess,” he replied. “Seoras MacInnes runs all the smuggling rackets around here. I’ve done some work for him on occasion, but on others—”
“You’ve ripped him off?” Ruby offered.
He shrugged. “Aye. If ye like. Although I prefer to call it ‘redistribution of wealth’.”
“Sounds like another word for stealing to me.”
“Aye, well, not all of us have a choice. We do what we must to get by.”
“And you call this getting by? Running from thugs who come for you in the night?”
“That wasnae part of the plan.”
That was an understatement if ever she’d heard one. This was most definitely not part of her plan! She’d wanted to come here to escape, find some kind of solace, and here she was fleeing for her life.
For the last hour or so, she’d been running on adrenaline, acting on instinct, without the time to consider what was happening.
But now that their panicked flight was over, that adrenaline was starting to drain away, leaving behind a shaky terror.
What would have happened if those men had caught them?
What would they have done to her? To Evan?
Ruby hugged the blankets tighter. “Shouldn’t we keep moving?”