Reaper's Justice by Sarah McCarty Page A

holding the weapon now. But she knew he still had it. She dug her nails into the backs of his hands. He didn’t even flinch, just kept backing up into the gloom. She kept her eyes glued to the spot where she thought the stone had landed. She couldn’t lose her stone again, couldn’t go through this again. She struggled and kicked. “Let me go.”
    She might as well have been talking to the wind for all the attention the men paid her. Their gazes were locked in a silent duel. Beneath their shirts, she could see the bulges of muscle. The tension in the air was so thick she could cut it with a knife. They stared at each other like dogs competing over a choice bone.
    “It’s not like I was planning on keeping her,” Billings said, that smile that just made her want to smack him on his lips. “The woman never shuts up.”
    She felt Isaiah’s nod. “I know.”
    “She’s not much for quiet.”
    Isaiah nodded again. “I know that, too.”
    The heck he did. “I do not talk too much.”
    She might do a lot of things, but she didn’t do that. She was known for her silence. Her discretion. Her common sense.
    Billings chuckled. “She’s also got a temper.”
    Isaiah took another step back, dragging her with him. “She hides it.”
    “Not too well.” This time, Billings didn’t take a step back.
    Isaiah stiffened and shoved her behind him. Despite the congenial exchange, she’d only give it another minute before they came to blows.
    Isaiah took a step forward, and suddenly, she’d just had enough. They wanted to think she had a temper, then they could just have a taste of it. Grabbing Isaiah by the arm, she spun him around, part of her horrified by the action, another part of her thrilled at the illusion of control. His eyes narrowed as his gaze snapped between her hand on his arm and her expression.
    “I’m not a bone to be fought over,” she spat, letting go of Isaiah’s arm. She shoved her hair out of her face, wrenching her fingers through the snarls. She was dirty, she was wet, she was cold, she was unkempt, and it was their fault. All their fault.
    She fed the anger, driving back the fear. She didn’t want to belong to these men, and it would be a cold day in hell before she belonged to either of them. Nobody but she would ever dictate her future again.
    “You’re what I say you are for now.” Isaiah caught her hands, pulling them gently away from her hair but keeping her there.
    “No.”
    She didn’t have any choice. He had her hands. He had the muscle. He wouldn’t let her go. She bit him hard on his forearm. He didn’t even flinch, just let her do her worst while he kept himself between her and Billings. Protecting her, she realized when she looked up at his face to gauge his reaction. He thought Billings was a threat. She let go. Isaiah pushed her behind him. She let him, because when all was said and done, he was the man who had come after her while Billings was the man who’d been riding with the bandits.
    “Move on, Blade.”
    She blinked. Blade? The man she thought was her savior was called Blade? This time she was the one who took a step back.
    “Was planning on doing that in a minute.”
    Isaiah didn’t relax. Neither did Blade.
    “Do it now.”
    Was the tension between them a result of something that had happened during the War? Something they hadn’t let go? “The War is over, gentlemen.”
    Isaiah unceremoniously pushed her back. “Not for us.”
    “She’s right,” Blade said. “War’s over, Isaiah.”
    “You know that’s not true. It’s never going to be over for us.”
    “Yeah.” Blade jerked his chin in her direction. “You know what you’re doing?”
    Isaiah didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
    Should she be grateful or worried?
    “Not sure she’s worth the risk.”
    Isaiah caught her before she could take another step aside and hauled her up against him so tightly she had trouble getting a breath. Again. “There’s no risk.”
    “I’d find it easier to believe if