The Gadget: The Rondon Chronicles Book One by V. Timlin (speed reading book .TXT) 📕

she had to blink a couple of times to remain focused. The newspapers back home were less straining to the eyes.

In the article, the journalist sensationalised the carnage caused by the arson. He painted events scene by scene as if he had been there when the fire broke out. Anouk snorted—he would do well in any tabloid in England!

Nat lifted his gaze from the newspaper. “What?”

“That reporter. He’s fabricating at least half the news.”

“Aye.” Nat resumed reading.

Anouk skimmed through the article. There was nothing new she didn’t already know, with the exception that the fire brigade had prevented the fire from spreading to neighbouring warehouses. The knowledge was a minor consolation, and it didn’t stop the sharp knife of guilt twisting in her gut. In a way, she was partly responsible for the inferno and for the deaths of those eight men. People were going to get hurt; Nat had told her that early on. Four days ago she would have been morally outraged, but life had been very different then. Now, however, she couldn’t afford to be too sentimental or she would be dead. But still, it hurt. She curled her palm into a fist. Bloody Stalo… This was all his fault. Why had he wanted those eight dead as well? To what end?

“Nat, why did your kidnappers have to die? Did they fall out with you-know-who?”

Nat folded the paper and tucked it under his arm. “No. He just doesn’t tolerate failures, that’s all.”

Anouk swallowed. “But that’s so… cold-blooded.”

“Maybe so, but this isn’t the first time I’ve seen him executing people for failing to do his bidding,” Nat’s dark expression matched the hardness of his tone.

Anouk winced. What horrors had Nat seen under his rule?

“Nat, I’m…” Her voice trailed off. What could she say? Sorry was such an inadequate word. Every time she thought she knew Stalo, something new, more twisted was revealed about him. She wouldn’t have been surprised if his training to become the most sadistic warlord involved torturing kittens in a basement. Cold shivers ran down her back and her heart ached for Nat. She wanted to wrap her arms around him.

She opened her mouth to say something. Anything to express how sorry she was that he had to endure so much because of Stalo.

Nat grabbed her in his arms and pulled them both against the wall. His revolver had appeared in his hand.

Anouk squealed. “What the…”

At the same time, a gun was fired close by and the bullet whistled past the place they were standing just a second before, hitting a barrel on a parked trolley. Chaos broke loose. People started to scream and run, taking cover wherever they could find it. A horse neighed in terror and charged down the narrow lane, fanning the panic.

“Come!” Nat shouted over the screams. He broke into a run in the direction of the gunfire, pulling Anouk with him. She pumped her legs as fast as she could, trying her best to keep up with him. She didn’t want to slow him down, but neither did she want to fall. Death by trampling would not be a pleasant way to die.

She scanned for the shooter in the surrounding disarray. Why was he not trying to finish them off? Had he withdrawn because he didn’t get Nat with a single shot?

The shooter ran ten yards ahead of them, pushing people aside like a one-man snowplough, but the press of people slowed him down and they were gaining on him. He spun on his heels and aimed his revolver. Nat dodged to cover and dragged Anouk likewise. The gun went off again and a grunt of pain came from behind Anouk. She had enough time to see a man falling on the street before Nat hauled her forward again.

The assailant turned at the corner and vanished from sight. Nat slowed when they reached the same street corner and peeked around it.

“You don’t need to tow me.” Anouk’s breath was heavy with exhaustion.

Nat gave a nod, a grim expression on his face. “Keep close.” He darted into the new lane.

“Will do,” she muttered and forced her burning muscles to another sprint.

Her heart pounded in her ears and her lungs ached, but running on adrenalin, she managed to keep up. The chaos of fleeing people raged around her like a storm. A few times she almost got knocked over, but avoided it at the last second. Nat ducked aside, and she followed in an instant. More gunfire thundered over the screams and footfall.

Nat charged again.

“Come on, legs. You can do it.” Anouk spurted along the lane, keeping her eyes on Nat’s back. He hadn’t fired a single shot, although he was holding his revolver in his hand. She was sure Nat could shoot the man, but he was worth more alive. If he were one of Stalo’s men, he could tell them where the warlord was hiding. If he was someone with a bounty on his head, they would pocket the reward. But if he just had revenge in mind, they could turn him to the enforcers, regardless. Anouk just hoped her stamina held until they captured him.

Something moved on the edge of her vision. Before her conscious mind had processed the information, she instinctively spun and jumped sideways. A gun went off. The bang drummed her ear as the bullet passed it by a narrow margin.

“Nat!” she screamed. Her eyes caught sight of a revolver. She grabbed the wrist of the hand that held it, spun again, pulling the would-be assassin from his hiding place. The man yelped in surprise. Anouk continued her arching movement, lifting the man’s hand in a circular motion before she plunged it down into a wrist lock. The man’s feet left the ground and he rolled in the air, crying as much from surprise as from pain. He landed on the cobblestones head first. His skull hit the grounds with a sickening crack. He lay still on the lane, his eyes wide open.

Anouk stared at the