He heaved a sigh, which obviously hurt his ribs, as his lips tightened and went white.
“We’ll walk into town and get help. The men are meeting at the pub for Lake’s stag night.” He looked around him and swayed on his feet. “It will take a wee while to get there in this weather, but it’s the most sensible option.”
Rainne stood up straight and pulled her limited courage around her once again. It was tattered and bruised, but it was still functioning.
“No,” she said. “That isn’t the best plan.”
Alastair gaped at her. “What the hell, Rainne?”
“I have a better plan.” She was grateful she sounded more confident than she felt.
“I seriously doubt it. We’re walking to town.”
“You haven’t even heard my plan.”
He actually rolled his eyes at her. Yeah, that wasn’t offensive, at all. “I don’t need to hear it to know I have the better plan. Knowing you, you’ll want to march up to the castle and have a chat with the guy about how violence is a bad thing and we should sit down in a talking circle and communicate our feelings, peacefully and inoffensively. And while we’re at it, we can all eat some tofu and braid each other’s hair with ribbons.”
Without thought, Rainne reacted. Her hand shot out and she slapped Alastair’s cheek. Never in her life had she struck another person. But instead of feeling bad about it, she felt enraged. She glared up at the man she loved. The man who clearly had an extremely low opinion of her and asked the only question raging through her brain.
“How’s that for inoffensive and passive?”
7
* Megan *
“Tell me again why we volunteered,” Claire said to Megan as they crawled on the snow alongside the bottom of the hedge.
“You heard my reasoning,” Megan whispered back to her twin. “We’re it. We’re Charlie’s freaking Angels.”
“There were three of them. And they had guns. And hairspray. Lots of hairspray.”
Megan stopped suddenly, making Claire bump into her rear end. She turned to her scowling sister and held a finger up to her lips to silence her. Megan tried to communicate by telepathy that there was a guy standing at the end of the hedge, but as usual it didn’t work. So much for that fabled twin bond. Why they hadn’t been blessed with any freaky twin skills—other than the same taste in clothes—she didn’t know, but they would have come in handy right around now.
Left without the use of telepathy, she bugged her eyes out at her sister, pointed in the direction of the guy and mimed a gun. Claire’s eyes went wide. Megan nodded. Yes, it was bad. Fortunately, she had a plan.
She put her mouth beside Claire’s ear and whispered, “You continue to crawl up behind him. I’ll distract him. You hit him with the baseball bat.”
“How are you going to distract him?” Claire whispered back.
Megan rolled her eyes. Now wasn’t the time for long explanations. But Claire had her adamant face on, so Megan elaborated.
“I’m going to proposition him.”
There was a pause before Claire exploded. Thankfully, she remembered to whisper while she did it. “Are you out of your mind? It’s snowing. There’s a power cut. He has a gun and you’re going to offer him sex?”
Megan shrugged and stared at Claire. If she had a better idea, now was the time to share. She sat back on her heels, folded her arms and waited. No? That’s what she thought. Megan pointed in the direction of the guy then made a shooing gesture at Claire. Telling her to get on with it. Before her sister could object again, she started to crawl to the other end of the hedge, back towards the castle. Claire’s hand shot out to stop her. Megan squinted at her with a “what now?” gesture. Claire leaned in to whisper.
“What will we do with him when I knock him out?”
“Take him inside and interrogate him.”
Claire gave her a look like she was nuts. Megan ignored it. She wasn’t the one who wanted to hang around to whisper in the snow.
“What if I hit him too hard and kill him?” Claire worried her bottom lip.
Megan’s heart filled at the sight. She gave Claire a quick hug and whispered the solution: “Grunt will help you hide the body.”
Claire nodded, grinned, gave Megan a thumbs-up and resumed her crawl towards the guy with the gun—reassured by the knowledge that there was nothing her husband wouldn’t do for her. Megan shook her head at her more cautious sister and resumed her crawl. She made it to the end of the hedge, beside the house, before standing. She dusted off the snow, pulled off her hat and fluffed her long blonde hair so it framed her face. She then checked to see if Claire was in position, which was bloody hard considering it was pitch black and the falling snow blocked her view. She thought she saw her twin standing, holding the bat, but it could have been wishful thinking on Megan’s part. Either way, there was no going back now.