Her Kind Of Trouble. Evelyn Vaughn
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clerical duties in order to marry, a petition that was tragically granted a few days after his fiancée died. But technically… “I swear he is.”
“This does not excuse his familiarity with my wife.”
“Your ex-wife. He counseled her.” But I might as well have been arguing in a cone of silence, for all that Hani listened to me. He drew back his foot to kick my helpless friend—and I had to risk it.
I surged to my feet, stumbling slightly as circulation returned to my blood-deprived legs. Plank flooring bowed under my shifting weight—if this was a platform, it was a cheap one. I showed my freed hands. “I said, leave him alone.”
Then I bent my knees slightly, centering my balance the way I would at the start of any tai chi exercise. Tonight, however, I meant to incorporate less well-known, combative aspects of the normally gentle art.
Several of Hani’s helpers backed away, saying something in Arabic. Hani snapped back at them in the same language, then said to me, “They think this is part of your magic. I think they simply did not tie you well.”
At least he wasn’t hurting Rhys. “Who says I need magic?”
He swung—and I easily dodged the blow. When he stepped forward, I stepped back, leading him even farther from my friend. Scowling, in the darkness, Hani swung again.
Again I ducked. Once I got him far enough from Rhys, I would use the force he was putting into his punches against him, perhaps throw him across this plywood flooring, hopefully frighten the others into running. But for now…
Suddenly, unnervingly, Hani grinned—and surged forward with another punch. Again I ducked and backed from it—and stumbled off the edge of the plywood, onto crumbling rock.
And nothingness.
I went completely still, balanced on the one foot that still had purchase.
The platform seemed to stretch between rock braces, over who-knew-what kind of drop. The space beyond Rhys wasn’t the only edge.
Only my tai chi stance, honed after years of practice, kept me from falling into the surprise abyss. More pebbles plopped into water, far below.
Where the hell were we?
Even now, with at least three flashlight beams in my face, my perch was precarious at best. All my weight and balance rested, for a moment, on the ball of one sandaled foot, braced on old, crumbling stone.
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