Gideon raised a completely steady hand. Clear wintry light gleamed on the polished barrel of his pistol.
“Aye, very nice.” The ringleader cast a derisive glance at the gun even as his cronies sidled out of the way. “You forget there’s four of us.”
“If I kill you, I imagine your friends will lose their thirst for blood.” He sounded careless, unafraid. Charis’s heart leaped at his reckless bravery. “Make no mistake, if you don’t let the lady go, I will shoot.”
Her paralysis faded as she sucked reviving air into her lungs. At last her fingers closed firmly on her gun.
“Not if I get a chance first,” she said hoarsely. She brought her weapon up. The gun was perfectly balanced and sat in her hand like an extension of her arm. “Step aside.”
“Shit, where did that come from?” one of the sailors muttered, backing farther off.
“Is the girl worth the risk?” Gideon asked almost casually, keeping his gun raised.
For one horrible instant, Charis glanced between the ringleader and Gideon. The sailor’s expression warred between bravado and self-preservation, and his Adam’s apple moved up and down in his thick throat. Gideon’s shoulders tensed, and his jaw firmed with purpose. His aim didn’t waver. She couldn’t doubt he’d shoot if he had to.
The brute must have reached the same conclusion. His piglike eyes flickered, and the tension drained from his heavy body. “Oh, bugger it, take the slut and welcome you are to her. Her slice isn’t worth a friggin’ bullet.”
“Sarah, come here.” Through the buzzing in her ears, she heard the ice in Gideon’s voice. “You’re safe now.”
Her gun suddenly seemed heavier than stone. Her hand wobbled as she lowered it. On legs that felt no firmer than jelly, she stumbled up the alley to stand beside Gideon. She desperately wanted to reach out and touch him, but his powerful self-containment kept her hands by her sides.
“We’re going to walk out of this alley and go our way unmolested.” Gideon didn’t glance at her. His pistol remained pointed squarely at the leader’s chest.
The effortless tone of authority took effect. Not one of the ruffians shifted to stop them as she and Gideon backed off. The few yards to safety felt like a thousand miles. Charis’s heart lodged in her throat, and her skin tightened with every step. Could they really emerge unscathed?
They’d almost made it, had turned to face the street when Charis heard an angry shout behind them. “Hell’s bells, mates! There’s four of us and only bleedin’ one of him. Let’s give the bastard what for!”
A crash of booted feet behind them.
“Run!” Gideon shouted. “I’ve got the gun. I’ll be all right!”
Charis lifted handfuls of greatcoat and sprang into a wild dash. She ignored the way her body screamed agony at the sudden dash.
But they’d left their escape too late. The thugs surrounded them at the mouth of the alley. Charis came to a juddering stop, her heart jamming in her throat.
“Stay behind me,” Gideon snapped, stepping between her and the closing circle of brawny sailors. The rough, flushed faces promised retribution, violence and pain.
Shaking, she pressed against the wall. Her blood pounded so loudly, she hardly heard the bustle from the crowded street so close.
“You’re making a mistake.” Gideon sounded as if the men posed no threat at all. He still held the pistol, but she guessed he was reluctant to shoot in case he hit someone in the street.
“No mistake, my hearty.” The ringleader’s swaggering confidence returned. “We’ll take our fun with you, then it’s the wench’s turn.”
“I think not.” Although she couldn’t see his face, she knew he smiled.
She opened her mouth and shrieked as loudly as she could. The shrill sound bounced between the narrow walls.
“Gideon.”
She strained upward to see. Akash loomed at the entrance to the alley. Next to him, Tulliver. Thank God. They must have been close enough to hear her.
The sailors dived at the newcomers. The world exploded into a fury of hard fists and boots and grunts of pain.
The violence transported her to the horrific afternoon when Hubert had hit her. She ducked her head and cowered against the clammy bricks. Black edged her vision as the battle raged around her. Trembling, she clutched her sprained wrist to her chest and prayed for the nightmare to pass. She squeezed her eyes shut and fought a powerful urge to vomit.
Bodies hurtled close, then lurched away in the fight’s chaotic dance. Gideon brushed against her. She recognized his scent before she opened her eyes and saw him swing into the fray again.
The shouting crescendoed, became more confused. The brawl spilled out into the street. At a distance, she heard someone yell for the town watch.