The Blood of a Baron - K.J. Jackson Page 0,49
last two horses and swiveled toward him.
Fear struck in the man’s eyes and he tore out of the last stall, running out the back door of the stable.
Instinct sent Wes’s limbs into motion and he charged forward, going after the man. Out the back door and into the sunlight, Wes found him to the right—running like a cornered rabbit, his head twisting around to see Wes staring him down. The man’s legs flew faster.
There was only one reason the man would be running from Wes—he knew who Wes was and had been doing something to the horses—or waiting for Laney to enter the stables.
Wes bolted to his right, closing the gap between him and the man, but not catching him before he cut toward the main road, running past the coaching inn and back toward the river that ran along that side of the main roadway. The man turned to the left at the rear of the inn.
Wes didn’t slow as he passed the coaching inn, only glancing at Rune and pointing forward to the man trying to escape, his voice a roar. “Sin, he turned south. But get her inside first.”
Rune nodded, shoved Laney inside the front door of the inn, and then darted to the south along the main roadway as Wes sprinted past them.
His breath thundering in his chest, Wes chased the man running along the bank of the river, dodging trees and downed stumps. Within five minutes they were out past the edge of the village. The bugger was fast—too fast.
Good thing Rune was the fastest person he knew.
Just when Wes thought his lungs would explode, Rune cut across a field that butted up to the river, intercepting the man.
The rat skidded to a stop, his arms flailing as he spun around.
Wes was already closing in on him. Both he and Rune advanced, trapping the man, edging him closer to the river.
Cornered, the man spun, his feet slipping in loose leaves before he fully turned and it sent his balance out of control. He tripped over a thicket of branches from a downed tree half in the water and flew forward, falling full force onto the tree. Onto the jagged stump of a heavy branch. It impaled him directly through his gut.
“Hell.” His blood pounding in his ears, Wes sped the last few feet to the man’s side and picked him up, sliding him off the sharp branch.
The man screamed with pain as Wes set him on his back on the ground. Screams that turned into gurgles, blood spurting up from his mouth as he gasped for breath.
“What were you doing in the stable?” Wes yelled, hovering above the man’s face.
The man just shook his head, closing his eyes, his hands holding the blood soaking from his gut.
Rune’s shoulder nudged Wes aside and he grabbed the man’s face between his hands, shaking him. “Open your eyes, man.”
The man’s dirty eyelids cracked open. Searching. Searching vacantly, but finding only Rune and Wes above him.
“Who do you work for?” Rune barked the question, snapping the man into the present.
A sneering smile came to the man’s face with a laugh that spurted up blood droplets that splattered across his cheek.
Rune leaned further down, his voice uncannily calm, comforting as his fingers left the man’s face. “This is salvation speaking. Think of the one person you love. The one. This is your chance to see them again. Your last chance. Salvation. Who do you work for? Who is after the box?”
A breath held—held for so long it could have been his last—and then the man parted his lips. “Hoppler. But it don’t matter—ye can’t touch Hoppler. No one can.” A sputtered cough, and the man’s head rolled to the side, his breath done.
Rune heaved a breath, standing straight. Wes followed suit, his stare not moving from the dead man at his feet.
Rune looked to Wes. “Hoppler, just like we thought.”
Wes exhaled a bitter sigh. “Aye. Dammit all to hell.”
“Where did he come from?” Rune asked.
“He was in the stables with the horses. And he just ran when he saw me.”
“What do you mean just like you thought? You know? You know who is behind this?” Laney’s voice pitched high as she gasped out the words into the air behind them.
Wes spun around.
She stood ten feet away, her hands on her hips, her shoulders curled over as she sucked in air, panting.
She’d run—run fast to get behind them as quickly as she had.
Blast.
Between her gasps, her head shook, her amber eyes