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Valiant Ladies

Melissa Grey
Chapters (47)
  1. Copyright Notice
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. CHAPTER 1
  5. CHAPTER 2
  6. CHAPTER 3
  7. CHAPTER 4
  8. CHAPTER 5
  9. CHAPTER 6
  10. CHAPTER 7
  11. CHAPTER 8
  12. CHAPTER 9
  13. CHAPTER 10
  14. CHAPTER 11
  15. CHAPTER 12
  16. CHAPTER 13
  17. CHAPTER 14
  18. CHAPTER 15
  19. CHAPTER 16
  20. CHAPTER 17
  21. CHAPTER 18
  22. CHAPTER 19
  23. CHAPTER 20
  24. CHAPTER 21
  25. CHAPTER 22
  26. CHAPTER 23
  27. CHAPTER 24
  28. CHAPTER 25
  29. CHAPTER 26
  30. CHAPTER 27
  31. CHAPTER 28
  32. CHAPTER 29
  33. CHAPTER 30
  34. CHAPTER 31
  35. CHAPTER 32
  36. CHAPTER 33
  37. CHAPTER 34
  38. CHAPTER 35
  39. CHAPTER 36
  40. CHAPTER 37
  41. CHAPTER 38
  42. CHAPTER 39
  43. CHAPTER 40
  44. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  45. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  46. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  47. Newsletter Sign-up
Cover: Valiant Ladies by Melissa Grey

Copyright Notice

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Dedication

To the girls with steel in their bones and fire in their blood

Epigraph

Let him who calls me wild beast and basilisk, leave me alone as something noxious and evil; let him who calls me ungrateful, withhold his service; who calls me wayward, seek not my acquaintance; who calls me cruel, pursue me not; for this wild beast, this basilisk, this ungrateful, cruel, wayward being has no kind of desire to seek, serve, know, or follow them.

—Marcella, Miguel de Cervantes’s Don Quixote

CHAPTER 1

Kiki

It’s a shame what we’re about to do to this tavern. Admittedly, it’s already a bit of a shithole, but it’s our shithole. Mine and Ana’s. The proprietor, Santiago, always keeps barrels of his best booze aside for us and makes sure to save the very best gossip for our ears only. But alas, some confrontations simply cannot be avoided.

The tip of the knife digs into my skin as the man holding the blade sneers at me. He’s standing and I’m sitting, which would theoretically put him at an advantage, but if I had to put money on someone, it wouldn’t be him. He’s an ugly bastard with the personality to match. A ragged scar runs from his hairline to his chin, and he’s missing several teeth. I’d wager most of them were victims of bar fights.

Much like the one about to break out now.

I tilt my head back to look the man in the eye.

Never take your eyes off your opponent. That is the first rule of swordplay.

We aren’t playing, and this isn’t a game, but the rules still apply.

I don’t need to look down at the cards in my hand. I memorized them as soon as they were dealt. It is an excellent hand. A shame, really, that I’ll have to hasten this fool’s shuffle off this mortal coil before I get to play it.

I set my cards down on the table as the corners of my lips tick upward. It isn’t a pleasant smile. It isn’t meant to be. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Why not?” The man’s words are slightly slurred, but he isn’t swaying on his feet, and the hand holding the knife is steady. So he isn’t fully drunk, not yet. Just drunk enough to feel brave.

And that will be his undoing.