Page 39 of The Big Bad Duke (The Shadows #9)

The hall was a tableau of pure carnage. Three bodies lay sprawled across the blood-soaked floor, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles. The metallic scent of spilled blood was overwhelming, mingling with the acrid smell of fear sweat and something else—something that might have been death itself.

And there, in the center of it all, was Gideon.

He lay on the floor, his body contorted in pain, but his head held high. Towering over him like a nightmare was the burly man she recognized instantly—the same vicious beast who had wanted to defile her and had kicked Gideon until his body was a map of bruises and cuts.

That monster.

He stood over Gideon with a knife raised.

“No!” Leila cried, the word torn from her throat before she could think to remain silent.

The sound echoed off the stone walls, and the burly man’s head snapped up.

Leila dashed toward him, positioning herself between Gideon and the monster who had almost destroyed them both.

When he had hurt Gideon before, she had been shackled, unable to help, forced to watch as they beat him into unconsciousness. The memory of that helplessness burned in her chest.

But now she was free, armed, and filled with righteous fury.

“Leila, go! Run!” Gideon grunted from behind her.

But Leila planted herself like a tree before him.

“Brave little bird,” the guard mocked, hefting the large knife.

Then he rushed at her, brandishing his weapon.

Leila dodged at the last possible moment, jolting to the side. The man’s momentum carried him past her, and she heard the satisfying thud as he stumbled into the stone wall.

The impact seemed to anger him even more.

“You little whore!” he snarled, spinning around to face her again.

He charged at her a second time, but rage made him sloppy. Leila dashed to the side again, this time adding a slight push to his back as he passed.

From the periphery of her vision, she caught sight of Gideon crawling across the blood-slicked floor toward one of the fallen guards.

She heard him grunt with effort as he reached the corpse and gasped, “It’s mine.”

But her moment of distraction nearly cost her everything. The large man lunged forward, and before she could react, he managed to grab her arm. His grip was like an iron manacle, his fingers digging deep into her flesh.

She twisted and turned desperately, trying to break free, but his hold was too strong.

He swung her easily, hurling her against the stone wall. The impact drove the air from her lungs.

She lost her balance and collapsed onto the floor. The world tilted and spun around her, and she tasted blood on her tongue.

Through the haze of pain and disorientation, she saw the burly man advancing on her, his face red with anger and humiliation.

Just as he raised his knife for the killing blow, something slithered across the floor toward her.

Gideon’s bared sword.

A part of his sword-cane. The one he’d had before they were captured. That’s what he reclaimed from the dead guard, the fleeting thought entered her mind as she grabbed it by the wolf’s head, her fingers closing around the familiar weight of steel.

In one fluid motion, she sprang to her feet and drove the blade deep into the man’s stomach.

The guard’s eyes went wide with shock and disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend what had happened. He looked down at the steel protruding from his body, then back at her face.

“You…” he whispered.

Yes, me, she answered silently. I killed you.

She pulled the dagger out with a wet, sucking sound and watched without pity as he collapsed to his knees.

Gideon slowly made his way across the room toward the fallen man. When he reached the body, he nudged it with his foot.

“That’s for kicking me when I was down,” he said.

Then he leaned over the corpse with obvious effort and pried the knife from the dead man’s fingers.

“We’re going to need this more than you,” he added in a rough, raspy voice.

When he looked up at Leila, she saw concern shining in his silver eyes.

“What did I tell you?” he barked, though there was no real anger in his voice, only fear. “You were supposed to leave without me.”

“I was never going to do that,” she replied, still breathing hard from the fight.

“You risked your life!”

“Yes, for you!” she cried. “The same way you did for me.”

“Yes, but unlike yours,” he said sharply, “my life doesn’t matter.”

For a moment, Leila froze in complete shock, her mind struggling to process what he’d just said.

What? Why? How could he think that?

How could he believe his life was worth less than hers, especially after everything he knew she’d done?

You’re worth ten of me. A hundred of me.

She wanted to shake him, to scream sense into him, to make him understand how wrong he was. But before she could find the words, he had already turned away.

“We have no time to argue,” he said, pulling on her hand. “Come. It’s likely there will be more people on their way here soon.”

He wove his arm through hers as they made their way toward the door, and Leila was convinced he was holding onto her more for his benefit than hers. She could feel the way he swayed on his feet, could sense the tremendous effort it took for him to remain upright.

They stepped outside, and the mare was still waiting where Leila had left her, though she danced nervously at their approach.

“Easy, girl,” Leila murmured, running a soothing hand along the horse’s neck.

Gideon mounted the horse without her help, though he wobbled dangerously in the saddle. His face was pale in the moonlight, and she could see the fine tremor in his hands as he gripped the reins.

She joined him on the horse, settling in front of him.

“Hold on to me,” she told him, feeling his arms circle her waist and his weight against her back. He was very tired; she could sense it.

She only hoped his battered body could endure this journey as best as possible.

Stay with me, Gideon. Don’t you dare die on me now.

She urged the horse into a gallop as they fled into the darkness.

To confuse their pursuers, if there were any, she led the horse down into a stream.

She had learned this technique by watching Gideon during their previous escape, though it seemed rather obvious now that she thought about it. The water would wash away their scent and obscure the hoofprints, making them much harder to follow.

Once they were far enough from their place of captivity, Gideon roused himself enough to take the reins from her hands.

“Where are we going?” Leila asked as he guided the horse northward, away from the stream and onto a deer path.

“A safe place,” he replied, his voice stronger now, his posture straighter. “The safest one I know in these parts: William’s tower.”