Read Online Archer's Lady: Bloodhounds, Book 3 by Moira Rogers - Free Book Online
Authors: Moira Rogers
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through. There are pages and pages of these.”
More dust drifted down from the ceiling, and Archer caught the softest whisper of footsteps. He dragged Grace close and pressed one hand over her mouth. “You hear that?”
She shook her head and glanced upward. Her gaze followed the dust unsettled by each quiet step, and she widened her eyes, clearly understanding.
He moved his hand but motioned for her to be silent as he edged her toward the wall and placed his own body squarely in front of hers. The steps continued, louder now, rough and almost shuffling.
Her heart pounded so hard he could hear it, but her fear didn’t stop her from bending to pull a derringer from beneath her skirts. She pressed a hand to his back as the footsteps paused at the top of the stairs.
The door she’d left open creaked. A boot hit the first step. Archer grabbed Grace’s wrist and shook his head at the gun. “Quiet. Let me.” The steps continued, growing closer until the last few echoed through the cellar like gunshots.
The ghoul shuffled into the dim space, jerking like a clumsily wielded marionette. Archer took a step, but his boot caught a scrap of metal shoved into the corner. The clatter alerted the creature, who spun with an open-mouthed hiss and lunged for him, both clawed hands aiming for his eyes.
As fast as the ghoul was, it was no match for Archer. He snapped its neck and held it aloft for a moment. Sometimes he felt like he could see their masters in their eyes if he stared hard enough, but all he ever saw was death. “There could be more,” he observed as he let the creature slump to the floor.
Grace watched him, calm but pale. “Should I wait here while you look?”
“No.” In all likelihood, the ghoul was a scout. The only noise drifting down to tickle at Archer’s ears now was the shuffle and whinny of horses. “Grab every book you can. Let’s hope the wards that kept the bloodsuckers out engage again when we lock the door.”
“I thought I saw a bag…” She pulled her skirts out of the way as she edged around the ghoul’s body, her gaze fixed stubbornly ahead. The derringer clattered on the table as she set it down, but she bent in silence and retrieved a dusty canvas sack from one of the shelves lining the wall.
Archer watched her hurry about. “Grace, hold it together. I don’t think there are more ghouls out there right now, but that could change, and quickly.” He grasped her elbow. “ Grace. ”
She stiffened under his touch, one hand tightening around the book she’d picked up. “I’ll be fine once I catch my breath. It simply…happened very quickly.”
She was lying—that part didn’t shock him. But the fact that it hurt did.
Archer had terrified her, and she’d been cruel enough to let him see it.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t have the skill to lie in the face of danger. Grace had saved her own life with quick words and convincing smiles more times than she wanted to remember. For the entire two years she’d spent with the Howland gang, her capacity to hide fear had been her salvation.
Today, when it had mattered most, the lies hadn’t come.
Guilt knotted her gut until not even Cook’s finest offerings could tempt her to eat. She listened as attentively as she could to the story of how the woman had bartered mightily for the pig, and mouthed the appropriate approval and gratitude. She even agreed to linger as the woman prepared a tray for her to take to Archer, though the thought of facing him turned guilt to dread.
She tried to compose apologies while she waited. The honest ones were breathlessly awkward. I’m sorry I acted surprised. I’d forgotten the man I bedded was such an efficient killer. As if efficient was adequate description of the grace and speed with which he’d dispatched the ghoul.
So fast. Did the world slow down for him? Did he realize how he looked to others? A blur of leather and sun-roughened skin, dealing death in the time it took her to suck in
More dust drifted down from the ceiling, and Archer caught the softest whisper of footsteps. He dragged Grace close and pressed one hand over her mouth. “You hear that?”
She shook her head and glanced upward. Her gaze followed the dust unsettled by each quiet step, and she widened her eyes, clearly understanding.
He moved his hand but motioned for her to be silent as he edged her toward the wall and placed his own body squarely in front of hers. The steps continued, louder now, rough and almost shuffling.
Her heart pounded so hard he could hear it, but her fear didn’t stop her from bending to pull a derringer from beneath her skirts. She pressed a hand to his back as the footsteps paused at the top of the stairs.
The door she’d left open creaked. A boot hit the first step. Archer grabbed Grace’s wrist and shook his head at the gun. “Quiet. Let me.” The steps continued, growing closer until the last few echoed through the cellar like gunshots.
The ghoul shuffled into the dim space, jerking like a clumsily wielded marionette. Archer took a step, but his boot caught a scrap of metal shoved into the corner. The clatter alerted the creature, who spun with an open-mouthed hiss and lunged for him, both clawed hands aiming for his eyes.
As fast as the ghoul was, it was no match for Archer. He snapped its neck and held it aloft for a moment. Sometimes he felt like he could see their masters in their eyes if he stared hard enough, but all he ever saw was death. “There could be more,” he observed as he let the creature slump to the floor.
Grace watched him, calm but pale. “Should I wait here while you look?”
“No.” In all likelihood, the ghoul was a scout. The only noise drifting down to tickle at Archer’s ears now was the shuffle and whinny of horses. “Grab every book you can. Let’s hope the wards that kept the bloodsuckers out engage again when we lock the door.”
“I thought I saw a bag…” She pulled her skirts out of the way as she edged around the ghoul’s body, her gaze fixed stubbornly ahead. The derringer clattered on the table as she set it down, but she bent in silence and retrieved a dusty canvas sack from one of the shelves lining the wall.
Archer watched her hurry about. “Grace, hold it together. I don’t think there are more ghouls out there right now, but that could change, and quickly.” He grasped her elbow. “ Grace. ”
She stiffened under his touch, one hand tightening around the book she’d picked up. “I’ll be fine once I catch my breath. It simply…happened very quickly.”
She was lying—that part didn’t shock him. But the fact that it hurt did.
Archer had terrified her, and she’d been cruel enough to let him see it.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t have the skill to lie in the face of danger. Grace had saved her own life with quick words and convincing smiles more times than she wanted to remember. For the entire two years she’d spent with the Howland gang, her capacity to hide fear had been her salvation.
Today, when it had mattered most, the lies hadn’t come.
Guilt knotted her gut until not even Cook’s finest offerings could tempt her to eat. She listened as attentively as she could to the story of how the woman had bartered mightily for the pig, and mouthed the appropriate approval and gratitude. She even agreed to linger as the woman prepared a tray for her to take to Archer, though the thought of facing him turned guilt to dread.
She tried to compose apologies while she waited. The honest ones were breathlessly awkward. I’m sorry I acted surprised. I’d forgotten the man I bedded was such an efficient killer. As if efficient was adequate description of the grace and speed with which he’d dispatched the ghoul.
So fast. Did the world slow down for him? Did he realize how he looked to others? A blur of leather and sun-roughened skin, dealing death in the time it took her to suck in
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