Read Every Whispered Word for Free Online Page B

soaker!”
    â€œIt’s a tavern,” the man explained thickly, as if he thought that piece of information might help them give him directions. “With the primest doxies this side of London. One of them’s a real rum piece—Magnificent Millie, they call her, and I’m not ashamed to say I’ve given her my heart—my soul—an’ most of my money, too!” He hiccupped loudly.
    Bert leveled his pistol at him. “On yer way, jingle brains, or I’ll blast a hole in yer arse.”
    â€œForgive me.” The man lurched unsteadily toward them. “I think I’m goin’ to be sick.” He doubled over and braced his hands against his knees.
    â€œFor the love o’ Christ,” muttered Bert, wincing as the man began to make horrific retching sounds. “Could ye turn yer head, at least?” He lowered his pistol.
    â€œHe ain’t feelin’ well, Bert,” said Stanley, sympathetic. “Maybe he ate some bad bubble an’ squeak.”
    Seizing upon the distraction, Camelia let out what she hoped was a convincing swooning cry and went limp in Stanley’s arms.
    â€œHere now, what’s the matter with her?” Bert demanded, alarmed. “What the hell did ye do to her, Stanley?”
    â€œI didn’t do nothin’,” Stanley said defensively as he awkwardly tried to keep Camelia from collapsing onto the filthy ground. “She must o’ got scared an’ fainted—I told ye she was scared, Bert! All yer bluster about snuffin’ it—ye ain’t supposed to talk to ladies like that!”
    Doubled over like a rag doll, Camelia jerked the knife sheathed in her boot free while her captors argued over which of them had caused her to swoon. One deep thrust into Stanley’s thigh would force the giant to release her. Then she would yank the blade out and hurl it at Bert, causing him to drop his pistol while she raced away.
    One . . . two . . . three . . .
    An ear-splitting blast pierced the air, then another and another. Balls of fire exploded around them.
    â€œ
Help!
” shrieked Bert, tearing down the alley as fast as his stout little legs would carry him. “He’s shootin’ at us—come on, Stanley—run for yer life!”
    â€œCome on, yer ladyship.” Stanley swung Camelia up and shielded her with his body. “That soaker’s gone off his head!”
    â€œPut me down!” All thoughts of stabbing poor Stanley were eclipsed by the realization that the giant was now apparently trying to save her.
    â€œRelease her!” Simon commanded, “or we’ll blow you into bits so small, the rats will be licking you up for a week!” He hurled several more firecrackers at their fleeing forms, which exploded in a deafening blaze of red, green, and orange light.
    â€œGodamighty, it’s a bloody army!” yelped Stanley, cradling Camelia tightly against him as he lumbered along, oblivious of the fact that she was now holding a knife.
    â€œFor Christ’s sake, Stanley, toss her down!” shouted Bert, who was wheezing and gasping for breath. “It’s her they want, not us!”
    â€œThey are trying to save me, Stanley,” Camelia explained, struggling against his massive chest. “Just put me down.”
    Stanley frowned, worried. “Ye sure ye’ll be all right, yer ladyship? Ye ain’t feelin’ faint no more?”
    â€œI’ll be fine,” she assured him.
    â€œAll right, then.” He planted her roughly on her feet, holding her steady until he was certain she was able to stand on her own.
    Another series of explosions blasted through the alley.
    â€œCome on, Stanley, for the love o’ Christ,
run
!” yelled Bert.
    Stanley obligingly loped down the alley to join his terrified cohort.
    â€œAfter them, men!” bellowed Simon dramatically as he reached Camelia. “Don’t let them get away!” He continued