I smashed the heel of my boot into the throat of another attacker. His neck crunched. He collapsed against a wall, hands clawing at his throat as he struggled for breath he would never find.
The first three attackers got to their feet and changed tactics, coming at me together instead of individually. It actually made things easier. They got in one another’s way and I ducked and weaved and stabbed, all while blocking Les, keeping him away from the center of the fight. The alley was so cramped, the fewer clippers in the mix, the better. This way I didn’t have to dodge Les, too.
Blood dripped off my mask and leathers. Its rich scent filled my mouth and nose as I caught my breath. Four of Lefevre’s men lay dead or injured on the ground when the giant finally waded into the fray. He was close to seven feet tall and wide as a cart. Not fat, simply thick with flesh and muscle. The attacker with the fractured arm pressed against the wall as the giant charged, bellowing like an enraged bull.
I stepped back, trying to give myself space, but I bumped against someone.
“Les!” I screamed, pushing against him.
The giant leaned over and rammed his shoulder into me, connecting sharply against my breastbone. If I hadn’t been wearing my leathers, padded to protect me, the bone would have cracked.
He launched me into the air. I flew into Les and we crashed into the wall, Les’s body shielding mine from the stone building. I heard, rather than saw, his head strike the wall. The loud crack bounced around the alley.
We collapsed to the ground.
“Les!” I grabbed his leathers. He didn’t respond, either unconscious or . . .
No! Don’t think it, Lea!
The giant grabbed my shoulders. He yanked me from Les, tossing me like a log onto a fire.
I landed on the body of one of the men I’d killed. Before me lay his cudgel, resting in a pool of thick blood. I snatched it up as the giant bellowed over me.
I rolled and threw the cudgel overhanded. The weapon struck him dead in the forehead.
The snarl across his face vanished as his jaw slackened. He stared at me in utter shock. Then his eyes rolled up in his head and he fell, crashing onto the alley floor.
I struggled to my feet, my body aching and my breath sharp in my chest.
Lefevre’s last man cradled his injured arm against his ribs, whimpering. I faced him, stiletto in hand.
He fled. When he reached the alley entrance, he began screaming for lawmen, shouting about murderers and ghosts and other unintelligible things.
If the lawmen showed, it’d be over. We needed to flee.
I stumbled over the bodies toward Les. I crouched and pushed the hood off his face.
His eyes were closed, but he was breathing. I released my own breath, not even aware I’d been holding it. He wasn’t dead. I hadn’t gotten him killed.
“Les.” I tugged on his leathers. “Alessio!”
He moved his head but didn’t wake. I lifted one of his eyelids. He moaned and feebly struggled away from my fingers.
We needed to leave. Now. Any longer and we risked being caught by the lawmen.
I grabbed one of his long arms and draped it over my shoulder. I braced my back against the wall of the alley and stood, pulling Les with me.
He was too heavy. I needed to find the strength to move him. I couldn’t be weak now. I tugged on him and called his name, and he seemed to wake enough to get his feet under him.
We stumbled deeper into the alley to the boarded-up door I’d seen when we’d first dropped into this alley. It didn’t matter where it led. It had to be better than walking the streets in the open.
The board was rotten and old and it took barely any effort to yank it down. Les leaned on me more and more the longer I supported him.
The lock had failed years ago and I pushed the door open, heaving Les with me into the dark and gloom.
Dust coated the air. I coughed heavily behind my mask, and for a moment, I was back in my home in Ravenna and it wasn’t dust in the air but ash, and it wasn’t Alessio I carried but my brother Rafeo, bleeding his life away. A sob escaped me, but I kept us moving through the building as tears blurred my vision and my breath burned my throat.
Les fell and dragged me with him.
“Alessio!” I yelled, but he didn’t respond. He lay on the ground like a dead man. I couldn’t continue to carry him like this. I needed a solution.
I examined the dark, decrepit building. It had been a house once, for a family maybe, with children and laughter and warmth.
Rotted carpets were spread across the floors, large sections torn away to reveal the wood beneath, and black wallpaper peeled off the walls like the rind from an orange. A rickety staircase led to a second floor, but most of the steps were missing, stolen for firewood perhaps.
In a corner, concealed behind a collapsing wall, stood an old cupboard and a pile of blankets. We had to hide and pray the lawmen wouldn’t find us.
I grabbed Les under his arms and dragged him to the cupboard. I pushed him inside and ran to the main hall.