Magic by Moonlight (6 page)

“Okay, okay.” He let his grip on M. C. go,
but still kept the gun in her belly.

“Now tell your men to drive away.” Again Al
shoved the sword.

Guido grunted, and his jaw went tight. But
he nodded to his goons. “Take one more turn around the block.”

The dark sedan moved slowly away. But M. C.
still didn’t relax. Tough to relax with the barrel of a .44 in your
gut.

“Very good, sir,” Al said, and he got to his
feet as soon as the other car was out of sight. “Now, put your gun
down, and perhaps I shall let you live.”

“You’re some kind of lunatic. I can blow the
broad away with no more than a twitch of my finger, pal, so put
your blade down or she’s history.”

“If you shoot her, the soldiers from the
bank will come running,” Al said.

“Soldiers? What the hell are you, nuts?”

At that precise moment, one of the cops
leaving the bank stepped out, glanced their way, and pointed right
at Al. Several others followed as he came running, shouting that
he’d spotted the suspect. The commotion took Al’s attention away
from Guido for the briefest instant, and Guido whirled on him, gun
raised.

With barely a sideways glance. Al flicked
his sword, almost carelessly, and the gun flew from de Rocci’s hand
and skittered across the sidewalk. Then Al backhanded the mob boss,
and sent Guido sprawling.

The creep reached for his gun, even as M. C.
was yanking the car door open and snatching up her own. She aimed
it at his head. “Lie still, you slug. Al, get in. Quick!”

The cops ran closer, reaching for their
weapons now. Al dove into the car, clambered into the passenger
seat, and pulled M. C. in behind him. She slammed the door, turned
the key, and laid rubber, cutting into traffic and drawing a half
dozen horn blasts and hand gestures on the way.

Moments later, she heard the sirens. Hell,
she was being chased by half the cops in Newark, and probably half
the mob hit men as well. Traffic was bad. Almost at a standstill up
ahead. She glanced at Al. He stared back, looking worried. And then
she smiled and jerked the wheel. She laid on the horn as the car
bumped over the curb and onto the sidewalk. People scattered like
autumn leaves in front of a strong wind. She took out a few parking
meters, but figured it was them or the pedestrians. She swung left,
the wrong way down a one-way street, but the fastest route away
from the city. By the time she emerged on a side road, she’d lost
them. Lost them!

“Hot damn, I’m good,” she said, and slowed
the car down to keep from attracting notice, turning onto less and
less traveled streets until she was completely away from the
city.

Al didn’t answer. She looked his way, and
saw how pale he was. Looked as if he might lose his lunch, too.
“You okay, Al?”

He swallowed hard, and nodded. “Of course,”
he said. “The question is, are you?” The dazed expression left his
eyes, and they filled instead with concern as he scanned her face.
“Did that brute harm you, Mary Catherine?”

“No. But he would have.” She drew a deep
breath and prepared to eat crow. “You were...pretty incredible back
there, Al. I didn’t think you’d stand a chance against de Rocci and
his gun-toting goons. I mean, with nothing but that sword. But
you...” She shook her head and sighed. “You saved my butt, Al. I
owe you one.”

He looked away, almost as if he were
embarrassed by her praise. “It is what I came here to do,” he said.
“And what I have spent most of my life doing. You should not be so
surprised.”

She nodded. “My mistake. I suppose a guy who
fights for a living learns a few things along the way.”

“You suppose correctly.”

She reached over to touch his shoulder. “I’m
sorry I doubted you.”

He said nothing. Insulted at her surprise,
she figured.

“Look, Al, I’ve never known a man like you,
okay? I mean, most guys...hell, they aren’t tough like you. They
haven’t needed to be. The world’s too modern. They don’t need to
hunt for food or cut wood for fires or learn to fight. They’ve got
grocery stores and fuel oil and sophisticated weapons. Just aim and
shoot your way out of trouble. Simple. Barely any skill to it. A
trained monkey could do it.”

He finally looked at her. And he was smiling
when he did, which relieved her a little bit. He’d saved her life,
after all. Insulting him was the last thing she’d meant to do.

“It works to my advantage, their
softness.”

“Does it?”

He nodded. “That man seemed to think that
because he had his pistol in hand, he had nothing to fear. He did
not expect me to resist.”

“I guess you taught him a thing or two,” she
said, and she couldn’t help smiling back. “I wish I could have seen
his face when you flicked that sword of yours and sent his gun
sailing. I’ll bet he looked like an air-starved trout.”

Al frowned and tilted his head. “His mouth
was open. And his eyes did seem to bulge a bit.”

Mary Catherine laughed out loud, tipping her
head back. “You’re something, Al. You really are.”

Al nodded, but his expression turned
serious. “It will not be so easy next time,” he said.

M. C. felt her smile die. “You’re right.
He’s not going to underestimate you again.” But then she brightened
and patted her pocket. “But we’re halfway home, Al. I got the
tape.”

Al sent her an approving glance. “I knew you
would. What must we do next, to bring this de Rocci to
justice?”

Mary Catherine licked her lips in thought.
“We have to get the tape to the district attorney. I don’t trust
anyone else. I want to personally put it into his hands. But it
won’t be easy.”

“Nothing worthwhile ever is.”

“You got that right.” She took another turn,
picking up speed. “We’re going to have to ditch the car, Al. De
Rocci’s seen it, and by now the cops have the plate number. Then
we’ll find a place to lay low, call the D.A. and set up a
meeting.”

Al nodded. “A wise course of action,” he
said.

“By the time we get settled in, D.A.
Hennesey will be out of his office for the night. I doubt his home
phone is listed.” He looked at her curiously, and she clarified.
“We probably won’t be able to reach him until tomorrow.”

“Then our immediate concern is for a safe
place to spend the night,” he said, cutting right to the heart of
the matter.

“Right. We’ll head into the next town, leave
the car at a diner, and call a cab to take us to a motel.”

“A cab?”

“A...car for hire,” she explained.

Al frowned, rubbing his chin. “Would
the...er...police not be able to question the driver of this...cab,
to find out where we’d gone?”

M. C. clapped a hand to her forehead.
“You’re right. Hell, how are we going to get anywhere without a
car?”

Al looked at her as if she were sprouting a
second head. “You were right before, Mary Catherine. The modern
world has made things far too easy.”

Al kept it to himself, but he’d been as
amazed by Mary Catherine’s strength as she had been by his ability.
Any other woman he’d known would have been in tears, become
paralyzed with fear, or simply fainted away, had she found herself
in a similar situation. A lowlife manhandling her, a weapon pressed
to her tender belly. But Mary Catherine had defied the dog,
insulted him, refused to cower.

She was, quite simply, amazing.

He suggested she drive far from the city,
into as rural an area as the modern world had to offer. And instead
of “ditching” her aunt’s contraption, whatever that meant, he’d
persuaded her to trust its care to a farmer. Indeed, he’d managed
to talk the kind man into letting them rent a pair of horses for
the night, leaving the car as a sort of collateral to ensure their
return.

The man’s eyes had widened when Al had
offered him a handful of gold coins in exchange for the use of his
horses. He’d examined them carefully, while M. C. had elbowed
Alexandre in the rib cage.

When he looked her way, she whispered,
“Those coins are probably worth a fortune, Al!”

“Nonsense. ‘Tis a pittance.”

“Not in this day and age. If you have any
more, hold on to them, for heaven’s sake.”

He shrugged, quite befuddled. But the man
pocketed the coins, grinning hugely, and was only too happy to
comply when Alexandre asked him to keep the car in his barn
overnight. To protect it from the elements, he said, though his
true motive was to keep it from prying eyes.

He thought he’d done quite well, until the
fanner led two graying, swaybacked mares from his barn, decked out
in worn saddles and bridles whose straps were split with age.

“Are these the only two you have?” Alexandre
asked, running a hand along one horse’s neck and feeling the matted
coat in dire need of grooming.

“ ‘Fraid so,” the man said. “Take ‘em or
leave ‘em.”

“Er...Al?”

Alexandre shook his head at M. C, then
addressed the man. “Perhaps I shall give you more coin upon our
return. So that you can purchase some oats for these animals, and
perhaps a brush.”

The man frowned, unsure about whether he’d
just been insulted, but unwilling to let the possibility of more
gold slip by him. Finally he nodded. “That’d be real kind of you,
mister.”

Alexandre nodded. “Then I shall, provided
you keep all of this to yourself. The lady and I do not wish to be
disturbed tonight”

The farmer smiled widely, and winked. “Mum’s
the word.”

“Al,” M. C. said, and she tugged on his long
coat this time. He turned to her. “We’ll only be needing one
horse,” she told him. “Unless you want to see me fall on my
butt”

Alexandre frowned. “You do not ride?”

“Never have. And won’t start now if we have
a choice.”

“A choice, my lady, is one thing we do not
have. I shall teach you. Fear not.”

She tugged him aside, her voice low. “Al, I
mean it. I don’t want a horse all to myself. Can’t I just ride with
you?”

His heart tripped over itself. So it was his
closeness she craved, even still, after all she’d been through
today. He stroked her hair and fought the desire rising like a tide
within him. “I’d like nothing better than to hold you close to me
in the saddle, sweet one. But I’ve already explained why that
cannot be. Not yet,” he added, lest she think he did not return her
ardor.

Her jaw dropped. She closed it. “Get over
yourself, Al. I’m scared to ride one of these smelly beasts all by
myself, and that’s all there is to it!”

He smiled slightly and nodded. “Of course
you are. You, a woman who stands face-to-face with an armed
blackguard, and looks him in the eye without a trace of fear. Of
course you’re afraid of an old, plodding horse.”

“But it’s the truth! I am!”

He closed his eyes briefly, the exquisite
agony of self-denial like a firestorm in his gut. “Soon,” he
whispered, leaning closer and looking into her eyes. “It will be
soon, Mary Catherine. And worth every second of waiting. I
promise.”

He held her gaze with his, and saw a gleam
of passion flit into her eyes. But she blinked, hiding it quickly,
looking away. “You’re an arrogant jackass.”

He laughed softly. “Nonetheless, neither of
these mares looks strong enough to carry us both. Much as the
thought of holding you nestled between my thighs with your back
pressed to my chest, and my arms tight around your waist, might
tempt me. I am afraid we have no choice.”

She pressed a hand to her belly, biting her
lip, a little breathless, he thought.

He turned back to the man, nodded his
thanks, and scooped Mary Catherine off her feet and into his arms.
He deposited her gently into the saddle, held her waist until she
seemed to get her balance. It surprised him when she changed
position, moving one leg to the other side so she sat astride,
rather than sidesaddle, but he made no comment as he then bent to
adjust the stirrups for her. A second later, he swung easily onto
his own mount.

Then he turned to her. “Hold to the pommel,
lady, and hand the reins to me.”

She gripped the pommel until her knuckles
were white as Alexandre set his horse into motion at a slow, easy
pace.

“Great,” she muttered. “So I suppose I’m
stuck here on this animal’s back until we get to the nearest motel,
right?”

“Quite wrong, dear lady. We will be far less
likely to be discovered if we make camp in yonder woods. Very deep
in them, I should think.”

“But...but, Al, I’m hungry. We haven’t
eaten. And we don’t have blankets or...or
anything.’“

“We have all we need, Mary Catherine.” He
looked back at her, wondering how a woman could be so capable and
yet so utterly helpless at the same time. “Have no fear. I am your
Musketeer, Lady Hammer. I will feed you and keep you warm. On my
sword, I will.”

He saw her pale, and then her throat moved
as if she were trying to swallow and couldn’t.

She had no idea what he was looking for as
they plodded deeper and deeper into the state forest that bordered
the farmer’s property. But he was definitely looking for something.
Scanning the trees, eyeing everything around them, until finally,
he nodded and drew his horse to a halt.

“This will do nicely.”

M. C. looked around. “What will do
nicely?”

“This spot. To make camp.” He dismounted and
walked to her horse, clasped her waist in his big hands, and lifted
her down. As soon as she put weight on her legs, she felt the burn
and pull of muscles she didn’t know she had. Her rear end hurt. Al
saw her wince, and smiled. “No doubt it will be worse in the morn.
If I could have spared you the riding, I would have.”

She shook her head and limped toward a soft
patch of ground to sit. Al led the horses away from her, to a
stream she hadn’t even noticed before, and let them drink. Then he
took an ancient-looking length of rope from one of the saddles,
slicing it neatly in half with a dagger he’d pulled from his boot.
“I’ll picket them nearby, where there’s grass,” he said, and led
the horses farther along the stream’s bank.