Free Chronicles of Steele: Raven: Episode 1 by Pauline Creeden Page B

fight her way out, if necessary. The hard faces of two guards stared down at her. She could smack one in the jaw with the back of her head, and when he loosened his grip, throw a punch at the other. The taste of escape grew bitter on her tongue when she considered the surrounding crowd. She made a count of the collateral damage and clenched her jaw. The last thing she needed were more kills on her conscience, more lives to redeem herself for. With a deep sigh, she remained still.
    The man in the bowtie held the wet boy to his chest. His cold blue eyes pierced hers. He pointed and said, “Arrest her.”
    Raven shook her head and wondered if she had water in her ears. Surely she must not have heard him correctly. But fingertips dug into her skin and she knew bruises were forming as the two men lifted her. They led her toward another of the brown-suited guards. This one had a red band on his upper arm. His air of authority indicated he could be nothing but their leader.
    Red Band proceeded to disarm her and said in a clipped tone, “I’m going to have to ask you to cooperate. If you promise to behave, I’ll cuff your hands in front of you.”
    Raven snorted as he unbuckled her belt and pulled it free. “Is this how your lot shows appreciation? Perhaps I should have minded my own business?”
    His brown eyes softened, but it didn’t stop him from pulling the goggles from her wet hair and handing them to a guard at his side. “We could have saved him.”
    Who decided night vision goggles and a belt winch were weapons, anyway ? She smirked. “Maybe you could have—downstream—if he didn’t drown first.”
    His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed and gave a half nod. “It’s best if you remain silent.”
    He slapped the handcuffs on, and the cold metal pinched her wrists. Raven winced but made no sound. The two thugs beside her lightened their grip, once her disarming and cuffing were complete. For his part, Red Band gripped the chain between the cuffs and pulled her forward like an ox.
    She shuffled her feet, hearing the general murmur of disapproval in the crowd for the first time. For a moment she wondered if they condemned her or the arrest. She shrugged. What did she care? Red Band mounted a flesh horse and reached down for her. She smiled with relief at the small blessing–at least the thing wasn’t automated.
    One of the thugs gripped her by the waist and lifted her to sit in front of Red Band. She was wrapped in the prison of his arms. A second black lacquered coach holding the boy moved away from the bridge. Although pulled by a brass horse, this carriage had Bowtie at the reins instead of an automaton. Her captor urged his horse after the coach.
    Her hips swung with the motion of the horse’s walk, and she leaned against Red Band’s chest. She hoped her hair dripped on him and soaked through his brown suit. It made no sense for the Duke of New Haven’s Guard to wear brown. Brown might be a good color for a dirty job, but a bloody one? As a reaper, Raven wore black—the appropriate color for the purpose.
    The barren branches of the few trees along the road stretched over their heads like skeletal hands. Fallen leaves crunched under the hooves of the horses. She took consolation in the fact that she at least still headed in the direction of Gregory’s house. Gooseflesh grew on her arms as a breeze picked up.
    “What’s your name?” Red Band said softly in her ear. His voice sounded deep and soothing at the same time, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
    “I thought you told me to remain silent.”
    He chuckled, and she could feel the up and down motion of his chest against her back. “Either way is fine.”
    She considered keeping her mouth shut. She thought about lying. Finally she said, “Raven Steele.”
    “The reaper’s daughter?” He sat a little taller and inhaled sharply.
    “One and the same.”
    “What are you doing in New Haven? We should have