Page 116 of A Duke's Keeper
With a courtly flourish, Syd curtsied again.
And the windows behind her shattered.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Five figures burstthrough the windows like wolves, gracefully landing to the floor and rising to their feet together as if they were one animal.
The men were huge, muscled, and most were young. The largest man startled when he looked at Nic.
“That’s the bloke from the party,” he said.
Syd’s gaze sharpened. “You mean the killer after the Duke of Camine? You sure, Zans?”
Zans nodded and ran a thumb across his cheek, the imaginary line the same as the scar across Nic’s face. “Gave ’im that parting gift me self.”
“The one supposed to be in the pens?” Syd’s eyes lit up. “This keeps getting better.”
The oldest of the group—a man well into his middle age sporting a bowler hat and a military stance—gave Syd a nod that she returned with a smile.
The man looked to Camille next. “Good to see ye, lass.”
Camille’s smile was warm. “You too, Pops.”
Pops’s gaze latched on to Renard and then Nic, pleasantries over. “Zans, ye said the snake had light hair.” His eyes darted between the two fair-haired men. “Which one is our rabbit?”
Renard shuddered, hearing a death sentence in the forthcoming answer.
Syd inclined her head in Nic’s direction. “Handsome here.” She backed up to the line of men, falling in rank at the head. “Do leave a bit for me, would you? Seems my fall from the Pony wasn’t so accidental after all.”
Pops’s entire attention went to Nic. He cracked his knuckles and advanced, not seeming to care the younger man held a knife when he was bare handed.
“You made a mistake, boy.” He glanced down at Hawkins, taking in a dead body on the pub floor better than Renard had when he’d first walked in.
For a moment Renard hadn’t needed to fake illness.
“The others’ misfortunes, I could forgive ye killing for what they did to Miss Camille. Even going after me business partner I took for more business. But not me Syd.” Pops shook his head as if he were truly sorry. “Ye should ’ave kept your attentions to the other predators, because now there ain’t a hole ye could shit in that I won’t find. That me men here won’ sniff out.”
The men at his back smirked, a collection of amused expressions that brought the images of broken bones and bloody gashes to mind.
Nic sneered, his gaze darting from one threat to the next and finally landing back on the older man in front of him. “You’re no threat to me,Captain. Word is you’ve lost your touch and that girl”—he jammed a thumb in Syd’s direction—“over there is now your Merry band of dishonored soldiers’ leader.” He cocked his head, confidence in the gesture. “And seeing as how your alpha can hardly keep on her feet, I doubt the rest of your ‘wolves’ will be much of a challenge. I’ll take you on one by one and leave your carcasses for the birds.”
Pops shook his head. “Not very bright, are ye? I don’ disagree ye got skills, but there be few predators that can take on a pack. Ye’d be smart to see the tail that sprout from ye bum and the ears upon ye head.”
The men—and Syd—stepped forward together on his last word, showing the unity and coordination of the pack, ready to take off after their prey.
Nic’s confidence wavered. With a scowl and a curse, he turned as desperate as a hare and spat at Camille, “I’ll slip away and regroup. I’ll return stronger than before, and not even your dogs will keep you safe. You’ll never see me coming. Never know when your carriage driver or a passing acquaintance on the street is not who you think they are. You’ve not won. You’ve merely postponed what’s inevitable.”
Renard’s insides clenched, hearing fate’s whisper in his ugly words.
His threats hung in the air like hovering storm clouds until...
Syd clapped, slow and overly dramatic. Everyone stopped and stared.
When she’d finished, she dropped her hands and gave Nic a feral smile. “As far as evil rants go, that was by far the best I’ve heard.” She held up her arm to Zans, and the giant lowered his head obediently to look. “See? I have goose pimples.”
Nic’s glare was murderous. “I’ll strip off your skin and hang your pelt on my wall, wolf.”
She winked. “Not if I tear your head from your shoulders first,rabbit.”
