way up to greet us. Of course, the owner of this establishment would be appalled by us ruffians. I rolled my eyes and bumped hips with Isabella, eager to distract myself by annoying more folks in this place.
Even though she looked down on us, the bartender did it with panache. “What can I get for you ladies?” she asked, keeping a courteous tone. The woman obviously played up her assets, but unlike the cheap girls in Reno who splayed their wares for all to see, she exposed enough skin to entice but maintained tastefulness. Tumbles of honey blonde curls fell to her shoulders, and her pink lips curved into an ambiguous smile.
As Mordecai shouldered past me, I made sure to rest my filthy arms on the countertop right in view. “Viola Embrees, please forgive my intrusion.” His rich voice charmed at once, and her attention slid his way.
“Mordecai Blacksmith, it has been some time.” She granted him a small smile, though she cast a pointed glance to her patrons. I lifted my brows. This was the bounty hunter he wanted us to meet with? My stomach sank at once. I’d banked on a badass bounty hunter to bring my proposition to, not this upper class lady whose lips pursed in disdain at the sign of the smudges I left on her counters.
He slid a piece of paper across the bar. “Hope your business is doing well. We’ll get ourselves to an inn to freshen up after our time on the road.”
“All that traveling makes one parched. Are you sure I couldn’t interest you in a beverage?” she asked in the sort of polite fashion, making it clear she didn’t mean the question.
“I’ll take one,” I said with a smirk. Her eyes didn’t even narrow behind the mask she wore, even though Isabella’s eye roll made it clear I committed an egregious faux pas. I would say this, the woman held her temper well. Whether or not she learned the stealth or skills to act as a bounty hunter—well, we’d see.
“We must be on our way.” Mordecai placed a hand around my shoulders and began guiding me out, ignoring my protests. The stares of the patrons followed us as we paraded out. I figured Mordecai passed her a more discreet location, although I found the entire process idiotic. Why we couldn’t ask her questions, have a quick one on one, and be done with the whole affair was beyond me. While we wasted time on proprieties, the gypsies could’ve decided our crew wasn’t worth the trouble of keeping.
“Don’t worry, we’ll meet her later.” He leaned against the creamy stone exterior outside the place. Isabella sauntered beside him, and Jack followed like a pup. Spade had never entered in the first place, a silent presence soaking in our surroundings. “Affronting her clientele isn’t the best way to win any favors, and we need all the help we can get.”
“But they’re such easy targets,” I grumbled. “Well if we’ve got some time to kill, I’d like to swing over to the closest bounty site—time to do some homework.”
“You? Prepare ahead?” Isabella placed her hand over her chest. “Color me impressed.”
I snorted. “Yeah, well my guns blazing approach landed us in this mess in the first place. We should’ve never entertained the job with the gypsies. Time to turn our luck around.”
***
Half the day had worn away while we tromped through the town, biding our time until she closed up shop at sunset. My sort of bars stayed open until the later hours, but Miss Embrees and her clientele didn’t adhere to such uncouth timelines. Why Mordecai believed this stuffed skirt could help us surpassed my comprehension, but we were in agreement on one thing—we were desperate, so at this point I would hop into bed even if her prissiness set my teeth on edge. The moment night fell and the globe lights flickered on, we wandered our way to Knife’s Edge, the sort of rough and tumble bar I thrived in.
Back in Shantytown, the sounds of squawking some might misconstrue as singing from the broad onstage cut through the
Learning to Kill: Stories