Without waiting to see what Otis did next, she spun and pointed her weapon at Hance only to find that he’d freed his knife and was coming after her. She squeezed the trigger, but the bullet missed and pinged against the opposite wall, coming too close to Jericho, who was still exchanging shots with the other man.

She wanted to shoot at Hance again, but what if the next time the bullet found Jericho?

As if sensing her hesitancy, Hance advanced more quickly.

She bolted up the incline. She couldn’t let him get a hold of her again. If he did, he’d use her to control Jericho like he had before. She needed to get away, and fast, but she couldn’t use her hands to help in her escape, not with them tied in front of her.

As she scrambled toward the passageway, Hance grabbed her foot. She kicked him hard, nearly hitting him in the face, but in the next instant, he dragged her down as if she weighed nothing more than a gunnysack full of goose feathers.

He slammed an elbow against her hands, and the revolver flew from her grip. Before she could get her bearings, he held the knife up to her chest. With a triumphant gleam, he spun toward Jericho. “Put the gun down, or I start carving.”

Jericho was in the process of shooting, and this time the bullet hit its mark and his opponent collapsed.

“I said put it down, Bliss!” Hance pressed the blade into her chest by her upper arm, piercing through her garments and into her flesh. It sliced deep, and she cried out at the burning agony. “Next cut will be on her face!”

Jericho spun, took aim at Hance, and this time, he didn’t wait. He squeezed the trigger.

Hance’s eyes widened in a brief moment of surprise. As the bullet blasted into his chest, he rammed the knife into her. She screamed, the pain unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Black dots flashed in front of her eyes. Bile rose swiftly. And in the next instant, the world went dark.

Chapter
23

“Ivy!” Jericho bolted across the cave toward her. His heart thudded worse than a whole herd of buffalos stampeding. She’d collapsed onto the floor, and Hance’s knife was wedged deep in her upper arm beneath her shoulder.

Before he could reach her, Otis grabbed the gun beside him, the one Ivy had dropped, and he pointed it straight at Jericho. “Stop right there.” The stout man’s face was creased with pain, and he was wheezing hard. Blood seeped into his shirtsleeve, staining it crimson.

Jericho slowed his steps and pointed the revolver at Otis. He’d used the last bullet of the six-shooter on Hance, but hopefully Otis wouldn’t realize it.