Imprudence by Gail Carriger Read Free Book Online

lioness had the other two down against the railings.
    The guns they had must not be sundowner, for the werecat did not flinch at impact. Or their shots were going wild.
    Still, shooting at a crew member was really not on, to Rue’s way of thinking. Not at all. She dived towards the blighters with the guns.
    Their shots conveniently woke up the slumbering decklings, who tumbled from their hammocks reaching for crossbows, as they’d been trained.
    â€œTo me!” shouted Rue rather grandly, she felt. She herself was entirely unarmed. With Tasherit already a lioness and doing a fabulous job of lionessing about, it made no sense to steal her shape. So Rue charged in without weapon or supernatural form.
    Primrose, on the other hand, did not. Prim could defend herself if absolutely necessary but otherwise preferred to avoid physical confrontation. “I’m not a violent person, Rue. The very idea of killing someone. It’s not in me. I’ll leave it to the children. They do enjoy it so. Why spoil their fun?”
    So Rue ordered her out of it. “Primrose, go to Percy and lock yourself in with him. Don’t unlock it for anyone. We’ll use the code word once this refuse has been rusticated.”
    Prim didn’t answer. She was already dashing below, intent on protecting her twin from whatever it was that he had brought on himself.
    Rue, for lack of anything better, grabbed up a sluicing mop and issued one of the bruisers shooting at Tasherit a full biff to the side of the head. He went down, dropping his gun. A deckling tumbled in, retrieving the gun in a somersault… Spoo.
    Another deckling shot a bolt into a second gunman. Shoulder wound but effective, for the man cried out and clutched at his arm, falling to his knees. Two more decklings swooped in, screaming like banshees, swinging from the rigging – feet first at the still-standing man.
    Rue closed in on her prey, flipping the mop about and pressing the wooden handle to the man’s throat in case he had ideas on moving.
    Meanwhile her two deckhands, Willard and Bork, pried off the grapples in case any more of the enemy tried to board.
    Tasherit was handling her two invaders with bloody aplomb. To be fair, she was going easy on them. They were only mortal, and she could have killed them with one blow; instead she was batting at them like a house cat with field mice. One of them took his chances jumping back over the rails rather than continue to suffer those claws. The other huddled in a ball, his back a shredded mess. Occasionally, he would uncoil and skitter sideways. She’d yowl, charge, and swipe to stop him. He’d ball up again for a time and then skitter the other way. She’d let him think he could escape for a while, then pounce in a jolly manner.
    Rue let her have her fun.
    Out of the corner of her eye, Rue admired the decklings in action; like a small herd of lemurs, they swarmed their man and clung to every part of his body. Despite being a substantial fellow, he was slowly folding under their collective weight.
    Rue turned her full attention back to the blighter lying below her. He was clearly not best pleased to have been felled by a gentlewoman with a mop.
    He was a big man, almost as big as Paw, who was one of the biggest Rue knew. He grabbed the mop handle and yanked. Rue, who was no fool, let go rather than pit her strength against his. He rolled to his feet and swung. Rue darted back, out of reach, wary.
    Spoo, having determined the small mess of decklings had the other gunman under control, came running over to Rue.
    â€œThis might work a bit more the treat, Lady Captain.” Spoo was grinning in a decidedly evil manner as she handed over the man’s revolver.
    The man squinted at her in focused interest.
    Rue wasn’t overly fond of guns but they were awfully useful when facing a man twice her size with no respect in his eyes. Guns engendered respect and Rue did know how to shoot one –