Chapter Eighteen
The man holding the knife to Colleen jerked his head, indicating Max should step back, and he obeyed. Max’s gaze was transfixed on the knife, that three-inch length of steel that could destroy his future.
“It’s going to be all right,” Max said. Trying to reassure Colleen or himself, he didn’t know.
She nodded and lifted her chin. If Max didn’t know her better, he would think she wasn’t afraid. As though having a man hold a knife to her was an everyday occurrence. But he did know her better. Saw the slight quiver of her lips before she set them into a firm line. Saw her hands clench into fists beneath the cuffs of her cousin’s old coat.
The group of them marched to the altar. Molly, Max, Colleen and her captor. “This church, hell, this entire city block, is surrounded by government men,” Max said. “You’re only rational choice is to give yourself up.”
“All those men are currently battling my own.” Molly stepped up on the altar and lifted a taper from a three-pronged candelabra. “I practically have my own army. But thanks for your concern. Besides, I love this church. It’s so peaceful.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “Even after your men blocked off all the underground tunnels that I used months ago, I still came here for the quiet.”
“You worked at the club.” Colleen tugged at the arm her captor still held, but the man jerked her back into his chest. She frowned. “Why write to me asking for information on the members? You most likely knew more about them than I did.”
“Why not?” Raising the candle high, Molly stepped close, the flame throwing flickering shadows on Colleen’s face. “You annoyed me, so it seemed fitting to involve you. Also, if the manager of The Black Rose was giving me information, no one would wonder how I came to know the secrets that went on behind those walls.”
Max nodded. “Putting Madame Sable, and then Colleen, on your payroll deflected attention away from you. Smart.”
Molly dropped a low curtsy. “Why, thank you, my lord.”
“Trying to kill her when you invited her to this very same church would have ruined that deception, however.” Glancing at the front doors, Max prayed for a miracle to burst through. They remained shut. “That wasn’t so smart.”
Molly snorted. “When I sent her that note?”
Max nodded and inched closer to Colleen. The man holding her adjusted his grip on the knife, and the blade twisted against her waistcoat. Max’s lungs froze.
“I wasn’t going to do her in then.” Molly ran her fingers through the candles’ flames, her gaze transfixed on the flickering fire. “My man was just going to offer her more money for information.”
Colleen dipped her chin and raised an eyebrow, giving Max a look.
He pressed his lips together. Yes, she’d been right about Zed’s motives, but this was hardly the time to tell him ‘I told you so.’
“When I had the club attacked, I definitely wanted her gutted then, however. Her and that backstabbing American.” Molly cracked her neck and stared at Colleen, her eyes as flat as a dead fish’s. “You shouldn’t have threatened to dismiss me. You shouldn’t have insulted me so.”
Colleen’s jaw dropped. “I didn’t insult you. I rebuked you, and it was well-deserved. You can’t kill someone over a well-deserved rebuke.”
Max shifted closer to the man holding Colleen, closer to the knife. “Don’t bother arguing with a madwoman. You’ll never win.”
“I’m rich, beautiful, and powerful.” Molly shrugged gracefully. “I believe I would be called eccentric rather than mad. Now,” she said, raising an eyebrow, “I know how much you enjoy fire. Don’t you think Mrs. Bonner would look lovely all aglow?”
Before Max could stop her, Molly stooped over and touched the flame to Colleen’s skirts.
“No!” Max roared, jerking forwards.
Colleen kicked out, her boot knocking the candle from Molly’s hand and catching the lunatic on her shoulder.
Molly fell to the ground, her rear end hitting the floor hard. She narrowed her eyes. “Cut her throat!”
The world slowed. Max saw the blade inch towards Colleen’s neck, but he was too far away to stop it, too sluggish. A side door banged open, and Max didn’t care if it were friend or foe coming through. He stared into Colleen’s deep blue eyes, drowning in their depths.
She blinked, and the world snapped into motion. Colleen twisted, grabbing the man’s wrist, using her body weight to pull his arm down.
Max kicked Molly aside. Seeing the knife arc back towards Colleen’s neck, he grabbed the blade, putting a barrier between it and her skin. Ignoring the sting to his palm and fingers, he wrenched the assailant’s arm up and pulled Colleen away.
There was a shout, a pistol fired, but Max focused on pounding the man beneath him unconscious. When the man went limp, Max tossed him aside and whirled to face his next challenge. St. Katherine’s had filled, men pouring in from every entrance, a battle royal between Molly’s men and the Crown’s. Energy flooded his body and his limbs screamed for action. Max’s gaze found Colleen, huddled in a pew next to an unconscious body, safe from the fray.
A man he didn’t recognize rushed past, and Max grabbed the back of his collar and throttled him to the ground. One stomp to the jaw later, and he turned for the next target.
Summerset rolled past him down the aisle.
Max gave him a hand up. “You took your bloody time getting here.”
“Zed has a fucking army out there.” Summerset brushed dirt off his sleeve. “The man had us pinned down from every direction.”
“Woman.” Max shoulder-checked Summerset as a foot soldier took aim at his friend from the altar. Max leveled his own pistol and took the man down. “Zed is Molly from The Black Rose.”
Summerset stumbled. “What? You must be joking.”
Sweeping the leg of a man battling with Montague, Max shook his head. “I wish I were. But our criminal mastermind is none other than the chit who likes to whip men till they beg.” Max spun, looking for his next opponent. “We were all just too blind to see it.”
“I did say it could be a woman.” Summerset looked over Max’s shoulder, his eyes going wide, and threw his blade. A body thumped to the floor behind Max.
“But you didn’t actually believe it.”
Summerset shrugged, and they both turned and engaged more opponents.
The fight wound down. Liverpool’s men began dragging out those still living of Zed’s army. Shaking the sting from his cut hand, Max zeroed in on the mastermind herself, standing behind a table on the altar.
“Now do you believe it’s over?” Max asked. He and his friends stepped forwards, forming a wall. “Put down your weapon, woman, and give yourself up. There’s no other option.”
She circled the table. Her hand was steady as she swung a pistol in a line between Max and his friends. “There are several options available, you just don’t see them. I do.”
“Only one of them ends with you walking out of here alive.” Max took a step forwards, hand outstretched. “Give me the gun.”
“Careful,” Rothchild said. He raised his own weapon, joining Montague and Summerset in leveling on Molly. But Max could read the hesitation in their eyes. They’d faced much bloodshed in battle, but never had they shot a woman. Hurting one went against their nature, even if she was a crime lord.
Max took another step. “Molly, you’re an intelligent woman. Think in the long term. Surrendering now is your best option.”
She tilted her head. “Oh, I have thought of all my options. In the second it took you to come that one step closer, every possibility has flown across my mind. There is only one choice I’ll be happy with.” She smiled and threw her shoulders back, tipping her chin up high. “Inflicting as much damage as possible before I go down.”
Max steeled himself. He saw it in her eyes. She was going to shoot him, and there was nothing he could do. His friends wouldn’t pull their triggers in time. After she shot him, one of them would take her down, but not before.
He looked up at the stained-glass window high above the altar, not wanting Molly’s face to be the last thing he saw. His last thought before the gun went off was that at least Colleen would be safe.
The reverberation of the shot echoed around the stone chamber, and Max frowned. There should be pain. He blinked, looked down, and saw Molly’s slight form crumpled on the altar, a circle of blood staining the stomach of her silk gown.
Shoulders unclenching, Max turned, wondering which of his friends had taken the shot. The three men had their pistols pointed at the ground and were staring down the aisle at Colleen.
She lowered her arm, smoke drifting from the barrel of her gun. Tossing the used weapon on the body of an unconscious man, she shuddered. “This belongs to him.”