Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 120336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Are these mainly the followers? Did I kill all the leaders?
I took them in some more, and they watched me with wary eyes as if. . .they knew what I was capable of now, and terror had finally found its way into their hardened faces.
So. . .I may have a chance. . .
Two men, bolder or perhaps more desperate than the others, stepped forward. Their swords gleamed under the dim lantern light.
They moved slowly.
Cold dread slithered down my spine.
Here we go again.
I didn’t dare check how many bullets I had left.
The space began to close in around me as the two men advanced.
“Come on.” I muttered, raising my guns.
The men saw that and began to race my way.
I squeezed the triggers.
The guns roared in my hands, the violent recoil vibrating through my arms as the bullets tore across the room.
One man went down, and his chest exploded in a shower of red; the other merely stumbled, a vicious snarl twisting his face as he continued his advance.
My next bullet slammed into his chest.
He stumbled and his sword clattered to the ground.
He dropped next.
And several of the still standing men took steps back.
Not forward.
O-kay. . .
Then, it was just silence again.
Terror-filled silence.
It stretched thin and taut across the room.
Many of the men gazed at the fallen bodies.
Horror rippled through the crowd.
To my surprise, more men took cautious steps back. A few on the right darted their eyes from me to each other, as if daring someone else to make the next move.
Okay. They’re scared so. . .I can use this because. . .honestly I have no idea how many bullets I have left.
My chest heaved as I stepped out from behind the crates.
The room swam with the smell of iron and death.
My legs threatened to give out, but I forced them to stay steady, to stand tall.
Show no fear. . .speak. . .uh. . .in a bold way and. . .be a monster. Illusion. Magic. Umm. . .that’s it.
I held out my guns to the side and sneered at them. “I have as many bullets as there are men in here!”
More men backed up.
Oh shit! That worked! Will I really be able to bullshit my way out of this?
Slowly, I swept my gaze across the room, meeting every pair of eyes that dared to look back. “Do you want to die? Or do you want to serve?”
A murmur passed through the group, the shuffling growing restless.
I took a step forward, and the room seemed to shrink back, like the men were shadows retreating from the light.
They’re scared. . .Thank you, Jesus.
I swallowed. “I understand that you loved Yan.”
I paused, watching the various reactions. Some of the men looked down, clenching their jaws while others remained stoic, their gazes hard and intense.
I continued, “And I know you may be angry. But Yan is dead, and. . .you’re alive. And that matters. It matters to your family, to all you love. Yan is dead. They are alive.”
A few men shifted uneasily.
The tension was thick enough to strangle.
“Serve me and you live.”
What the fuck does that even mean? Like. . .are they going to be living with me now? Or do they go back?
I swallowed. “If you pick me, understand this.”
What do I say? What do I fucking say?
Tension gathered in my shoulders. “I. . .will not take any disloyal people around me.”
Okay. That made sense.
I lifted one gun and pointed to the decapitated heads. “Do you see how I deal with disloyal people?”
The men looked.
Some faces paled, others hardened, but all were silent.
I could see the gears turning in their heads, weighing their options. Serve me, their enemy, or die here and now.
“I’m fucking loco!”
Why did you say that in Spanish? Just stick to English.
I let out a long breath. “So. . .I don’t want to kill any more of you, but. . .I will if I have to.”
My heart pounded.
A silence fell over the tent once more.
It dragged on painfully, until at last one of them stepped forward.
He was a younger man, probably no older than Jo, with a fresh scar on his cheek and a hardened look in his eyes.
Oh no. Do I have to kill him?
I gripped the gun tighter.
He dropped his weapon and sank down to one knee. "I’ll serve you, Mountain Mistress."
What?
Others followed suit. One by one they dropped their weapons, got to their knees, and bowed their heads in submission.
Okay. . .
But there were still many that stood and watched me.
I’m close, but not close enough.
A minute passed and then, slowly, another man fell to his knees, and within moments, others followed with a ripple of submission sweeping across the tent.
Shock stiffened my spine.
I hadn’t expected it to work—not like this, not so soon. The sight of them kneeling before me, blood-splattered and weary, filled me with disbelief.