“Aiden’s right. We have a place we can go. As it happens, this is hardly our first time on a wanted poster, little bird,” Cypress says, still intending to be comforting but the look I give him must convey my surprise, because he adds, “Clerical errors can be so common.”
“Clerical errors?” Aiden repeats, coughing over the words. “That’s what you’re going with right now?”
“Well…that’s what we have alwaysgonewith. A couple hundred dollars in the right pocket, and this will all get cleared up.”
I sniff, starting to feel a little hopeful if Cypress is so unconcerned. “It will?”
“Of course,” Cypress says easily. “This is nothing.”
“Nothing?” Aiden repeats again, sounding incredulous. “She’s on a fucking wanted poster.”
“A rite of passage. She’s truly one of us now,” Cypress replies, bending down to kiss me when I relax enough to look up at him.
“But who the fuck knows that? Cy, allthreeof us are on this poster. Who is still breathing that knows?” They exchange a look, and the anxiety that had so recently abated comes back at full force when I see the first flicker of uncertainty in Cypress’s eyes. Then it doubles as I follow Aiden’s gaze to the pair of riders who are now approaching over the crest of the horizon, still a long ways off.
“That was fast,” Cypress mutters, swinging back up on Cerberus.
“What do we do?” I ask Aiden, going without hesitation this time as he helps me into the wagon and climbs up beside me. “Should we run?”
He doesn’t remove his eyes from them, waiting for Cypress to come up on my other side beside the wagon before he urges Helios forward with Tess following behind. “If we run, they’ll know we have something we’re running from.”
“They seem to be coming from outside of town. They may not have even seen the poster. Probably weary travelers just like us,” Cypress suggests, but while Aiden seems to make a sound of agreement, he still adjusts his hands as we head their direction, moving the wagon reins to his left and slipping his pistol into his right, hiding it in the fabric of my skirt on the seat next to him.
“Do you have your gun?” he asks, and I nod, showing him the leather holster that Cypress had fitted over the right side of one of my new dresses this morning. All of my old clothes mysteriously vanished right around the time that he started a fire for breakfast. Though I can’t say I miss them.
“Don’t reach for it unless I say. Don’t even act like you have one,” Aiden says after giving me an approving nod, though apparently he’s unable to keep himself from adding, “Should be easy for you.”
“Very,” I say, glaring at him. “In fact, I’ll just go back to not carrying it once we make it through this, if that’s what you’d prefer.”
“No,” he says, giving me a begrudging smile. “I prefer you armed and hostile.”
“Funny, I thought you preferred me nake—”
“Christ, Cora, don’t put that in my head right as we’re approaching men who might want to kill us. Although, since we are about to die…”
“Wait, you don’treallythink we’re about to die?”
“If you two are quite finished bickering,” Cypress mutters,doing his best to suppress his amused grin as he stays close to the wagon. “I think it might not give off the foreboding air we are going for.”
“Well, never thought I’d see this day,” Aiden replies before putting his attention forward again, and despite our predicament, I also find myself trying not to laugh when he continues, “Cypress scolding someone for talking too much.”
It seems to take ages for the approaching riders to reach us, my stomach knotting in apprehension the closer we get while I try to give the appearance of disinterest.
The first thing I note is that they don’t look at all like the weary travelers Cypress had hoped for. Their clothes are too clean, too freshly pressed, their faces recently shaven. The one on the left is young, round-faced, and sporting a self-assured grin. The one on the right is older, closer to Aiden and Cypress’s age, his own smile more of a sneer as he pulls his horse up several yards out, directly in our path. When his younger companion does the same, we follow suit.
“Good morning,” Cypress says in casual greeting, leaning forward with his hands draped over his saddle horn. Showing them clearly that he doesn’t have hold of either his pistols or his rifle. “Is there something we can assist you with? Perhaps directions?”
“You know, there is something…” the older man says slowly.“Word came through a little while back that there’s a mighty big reward being offered for the apprehension of a few criminals.” His gaze lands on each of us in turn. “We’ve been riding from town to town hoping we’ll get lucky.”
“Well, in that case, happy hunting,” Cypress says cheerfully, moving as if to spur Cerberus to walk on. And that’s when the first gun is drawn, followed immediately by the second. Both riders point their rifles at Cypress, who still has yet to so much as blink in the direction of his own. He smiles, even as I jerk forward in panic, Aiden’s left arm reaching across to settle me back in my seat. His right hand presses against my thigh, reminding me of the still hidden gun.
“I really would appreciate it if you would lower your weapons,” Cypress says, this time dripping more venom than sugar. “It’s not very polite.”
“Polite?” the older man scoffs. “It considered good manners to murder innocent folk?”
“Depends on your definition of innocence.”
“How about to rob a lawman?”