Midnight Star (Star Quartet 2)

He stared at Baron, who had hauled himself up on his elbows. There was a hole in his chest, and blood was spilling out onto Chauncey’s bare breasts.

“You scum!” Chauncey cried, and fired the other bullet in the derringer into his stomach.

“No!”

Baron fell forward, but Chauncey jerked sideways, drew herself into a ball, and rolled. Baron fell, his face smashing against the rough planking.

She dashed to Delaney and pulled frantically at his bonds. “Quickly,” she gasped. “I was a fool. I used both bullets. Jasper will have heard the shots! Quickly, Del! Oh my God, your wrists—they’re raw!”

“No matter,” Delaney said, his numb fingers ripping off the bonds around his ankles. He heard her draw in her breath and stared at her suddenly colorless face. “Not yet,” he said sharply. “Not yet! We’ve still got Jasper to handle.”

Delaney hurled himself across the floor toward the rifle and his gun, but he wasn’t in time.

There was an unearthly shriek from the doorway. “You killed him, gutted him! You murderin’ little bitch!”

Chauncey froze, every sense suspended as she stared toward Jasper, whose face was contorted with fury. Even as he raised his gun, she didn’t move.

“Jasper!” Delaney yelled, and as the man slewed his head toward him, Delaney jumped. He landed a foot from him and grabbed his arms, jerking him against him.

Chauncey watched Jasper struggle. Delaney was the larger and the stronger, but Jasper wouldn’t release the gun.

“Please, God,” she whispered, watching every movement, hearing every strangled breath from the two men.

The table collapsed as Delaney’s body smashed against it. He held Jasper’s gun arm, feeling the muscles and bones twisting beneath the onslaught. The man was howling, trying desperately to bring the gun upward.

Jasper kicked Delaney in the groin, and for an instant Delaney’s grip loosened. But only for an instant. “I’m going to kill you, you filthy bastard,” he whispered between gritted teeth.

Jasper had time only to bring the gun up between them.

Suddenly there was a loud retort.

Chauncey weaved where she stood. Neither man moved.

“Del,” she whispered in a strangled voice. Slowly Delaney pulled away from Jasper. Blood covered his chest.

Chauncey screamed.

Then she saw Jasper, his chest ripped open, sink to the floor. The gun fell from his lifeless fingers and clattered across the room.

There was utter silence.

“I’m all right, Chauncey,” Delaney said, his voice once again calm and controlled. “It’s all over, love.”

She flung herself at him, clutching him tightly to her, sobbing violently. She felt his hands stroking over her back, heard him whispering soft, meaningless words to her.

She eased, her breath evening out, her sobs becoming hiccups. She opened her eyes and the first sight she saw was Baron’s sprawled body.

“I killed him,” she said, disbelief and shock thick in her voice. “I actually killed someone. Oh God!”

“Hush and listen to me, Chauncey. You saved yourself and you saved me. You were very brave and courageous. I love you and I thank you.” His fingers were stroking her brows, her cheeks, her jaw as he spoke. “Do you understand? You did what you had to do. I am so very proud of you.” His hands closed around her face and he looked deep into her eyes. “Do you understand me?”

She drew a deep breath. “The derringer is so small.”

“Yes, but deadly.”

“I think I’ll retch if I ever touch it again.”

“You will touch it again and you won’t retch. You’ll respect that small piece of hardware now, and you won’t abuse it. You will carry it until we have Montgomery. All right?”