“Aye.”
Every nerve in Catriona’s body thrummed with the urge to head back to the well-lit main hall. Only two days removed from her ordeal in the underground lair of a different maniac, she was finding it hard to quell her panic. She’d rather be staring down the barrel of a gun under the desert sun than lost in a dungeon.
“Let’s keep going or this asshole will pick off people at the party all night,” she said aloud, more to bolster her own nerves than Broch’s.
Even in the grotesque red light of the bulb, Catriona could see Broch’s expression soften as he brushed an errant strand of hair from her face.
“When hae we ever failed?”
She smiled. “You know, sometimes I think you traveled hundreds of years through time just to help me with this horrific job of mine.”
Broch chuckled. “Nae on purpose.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Ah see light,” said Broch.
Catriona lowered her phone and noticed a dull glow at the end of the black hallway. She switched off her phone to save battery as they entered a large rectangular room and the claustrophobic experience of the hallway lifted. Catriona glanced upward to find a cloth hovering, as if a large black circus tent had been erected above the room. Catriona guessed the center scraped the top of the actual warehouse. There were three doors against the far wall, all painted red.
Nice touch. What about a happy teal? Perhaps a cheery yellow?
Catriona held out a hand to keep Broch from moving toward the doors. “Wait. This is a standard horror movie trope. We have to pick a door and if we pick the wrong one—”
Before she could finish her thought, the three doors flew open, shaking the walls of the makeshift room around them. Three men burst forward as if shot from cannons. Each wore black and held a katana, their faces covered but for their eyes. They stopped, each a few feet from their doors, posing with swords at the ready.
Catriona jumped back a step, fists raising. As she and Broch stood in their fighting stances, locked in some strange stare-off with the three men, she couldn’t help but laugh.
“What is this Enter the Dragon crap?”
She felt as if she’d made a wrong turn at Comic-Con. Their attackers were trying so hard to look like ninjas.
Unfortunately, the swords looked real enough.
Catriona slid her cell phone into the bodice of her dress for safe-keeping. Cleavage always made the most handy purse. And who knew, maybe tucked there, her phone could deflect a sword from her heart.
The men stepped forward in unison, brandishing their blades.
Broch glanced at her. “Och. Enough.”
Before she could respond, he rushed to the one closest to his side of the room. There was no reason a man as large as Kilty, in an outfit as tight as his, should have been able to move as fast as he did.
At the last possible second, the ninja being rushed raised his blade to strike. Broch easily dodged the katana and tackled him, pounding into the man’s waist as his right hand grabbed the hilt of the blade. Highlander and ninja slammed into the far wall, the man in black crumpling like a doll, limp and seemingly unconscious.
Broch stood, the katana now in his hand.
He turned to face the remaining two, who had frozen in their tracks, staring as their fellow ninja fell. Catriona imagined their jaws were hanging open, but she couldn’t be sure thanks to their dark headgear.
She, too, had been caught off guard by Broch’s sudden attack and now gaped at her partner’s fierce stare as he waggled the katana at the other two. She knew he was handy with a blade.
Holy hell, I’m glad I’m on his side.
She looked at the men.
“You messed up now.”
The ninja closest to Broch ran at the Highlander. The remaining assailant ran at Catriona, screaming, katana raised.
Catriona’s bemused smile collapsed. She’d been so shocked by Broch’s speed she’d forgotten to pull her own weapon.
Crap.
Catriona pushed aside her dress and fumbled for the gun on her leg. The lace holster refused to release. It felt as if a part of the pistol’s rear sight had entangled in the webbing. She didn’t have time to jerk it free before the man would be on her.
This is going to hurt.
Running out of options, she bowled herself sideways at his legs. In her head she thought the angle would make it impossible for the blade to hit her, but geometry had never been her favorite subject and she didn’t feel confident.
Her already bruised ribs ignited with pain as she felt the man’s knee give way in a direction unnatural for that joint. She heard his attack roar shift into a yelp. As soon as she hit the ground she scrambled to her feet, every movement agony, and kicked the man’s fallen sword away from him. He rolled in the dirt, wailing as she finally ripped her gun from its holster.
“Freeze!” she screamed, hoping her command would inspire the man on the ground and the man Broch had engaged to cease their attacks. She turned in time to see Broch thrust his blade into the last man standing. With only a muffled grunt, the attacker collapsed to his knees and flopped sideways to the floor.
The first ninja remained folded on the ground, sprawled and still.
Broch sniffed, staring down at his fallen foes, seeming confused. “Thay didn’t ken howfur tae fight.”
“I can see that.” She stretched her neck to peer at the man Broch had skewered with his fellow-ninja’s sword. He groaned, his hand clamped over his side as he tried to stem the flow of blood darkening the fabric above his left kidney. She glanced at Broch.
