Free Darkfall by Denise A. Agnew Page A

her Ian said, “Stay here, Penny.”
    She grabbed the gun Frank left on the bed and stood up. “Ian, don’t.”
    “Trust me,” Ian said again.
    Ian’s face held no emotion, not even anger as he herded Frank in front of him. She didn’t know where they were going, and she ignored Ian’s warning. She ran to the window, Frank’s pistol heavy in her hand. She looked down and saw Ian standing in the middle of the back yard with Frank. They began to circle each other. This is crap. I’m not standing here while they fight it out. She checked the gun and discovered, to her utter shock and blooming rage, that it was empty. Frank had threatened her with an empty fucking weapon?
    She dashed out of the room and down the stairs as fast as her feet would carry her. She hurried across the foyer and at first glance didn’t see her own gun. What the hell had Frank done with it? Had he done anything with it? She doubted it, given how unhinged he was. Brute force and heavy-handed manipulation had always been his weapons, not brains. Seconds later she discovered the weapon halfway under a chair near the doorway. She grabbed it and headed for the back door. The door was wide open, and she stood just inside so that neither man could see her.
    Frank and Ian continued to circle each other. As she watched, every muscle in her body felt as if it might shake apart. Oh shit. Oh shit.
    “Come on. Let’s rock.” Ian’s voice held a thick, no-nonsense sarcasm. “Or are you too dickless?”
    Frank stopped moving and his lip curled. “You think you’re a badass or something?”
    “Something.”
    Frank said, “Well then, I’ll just kill you and take the bitch.”
    Her blood ran cold. She knew Ian had training, and she knew Frank couldn’t match Ian for fighting skills. Trust me. Ian’s reassurance didn’t stave off the fear. Anything was possible. Her fingers tightened on the gun in her right hand.
    Frank moved quickly. In counter, Ian’s quicksilver movements were frightening. This wasn’t fisticuffs, but speed, thrust, balance and power. She held back a cry as Frank tried for a jab. Ian blocked it and with one movement Ian’s fist came up. Frank flew backwards and landed on his back with a solid thunk . He lay unmoving. Ian stared down at him, chest heaving. He leaned down and checked Frank’s pulse.
    “Ian.” She barely whispered the word, still half afraid Frank would rise and attack.
    Ian looked up and saw her, but his cold face didn’t change. He stalked in her direction, but she kept her gaze on Frank. Ian stooped to recover his weapon from the ground. He tucked it in his holster.
    When Ian arrived by her side, she finally met his gaze. “Is he dead?”
    “No. But he’s going to have one hell of a headache and maybe a concussion. Do you have anything I can tie him up with?”
    She thought quickly. “There’s some rope in the utility room. From an old clothesline.”
    “Get it.”
    She thumbed the safety on her piece and jammed it into her waistband. She ran back in the house and dashed to the utility room. After she found the rope, she returned to the yard. Ian took the rope and hogtied Frank so his hands were linked behind his back to his feet. Before they could say another word, they heard sirens.
    “Come on.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the side of the house and the gate leading to the front of the condo. “Sounds like the cops. Maybe someone heard our fight.”
    “I didn’t think anyone law-abiding was even left in the neighborhood.”
    When they reached the front of the house, two city police cars cruised down the street with lights on but sirens off. Ian and Penny ran out to flag them down. Both cars stopped and the pair of cops in each car exited their cruisers with caution written all over them. Ian and Penny kept their hands away from their weapons, but all four officers kept their own hands near their service revolvers. In a rush Ian explained what had happened, and immediately gave them