Powered by its own weight, the saber flashed in, burying itself in Crowley's side. Alathea gasped and released the hilt. The saber remained, its glistening tip barely disturbing the front of Crowley's coat, the hilt quivering behind his back.
Crowley's face leached of all color; shock overlaid all expression. He regained his balance, both feet settling square, the other saber held tight between his fists. Slowly, he looked down, then, equally slowly, turned his head and looked over his shoulder at the saber sticking out from his back. His expression said he didn't comprehend…
He shuffled his feet, turning to Alathea, still holding the other saber-
In a rush of footsteps, Chillingworth appeared in the doorway. He took one glance, raised his arm, and shot Crowley.
Eyes wide, Alathea made no sound as Crowley jerked. The ball had found its mark in the left of his huge chest. Slowly, he turned his head to stare uncomprehendingly at Chillingworth. Then his features blanked, his eyes closed, and he pitched forward.
Gabriel pulled his legs clear and struggled to sit up. Still dizzy, his head ringing, he leaned his shoulders against the side of the desk.
Chillingworth stepped into the room, frowning as he took in the saber sticking up from Crowley's back. "Oh. You'd already taken care of it." Then he looked at Gabriel, back at Crowley, then back to Gabriel, frowning even more. "How the devil did you manage that?"
Gabriel looked at Alathea's white face. "It was a joint effort."
Chillingworth followed his gaze to Alathea, still pressed back against the wall, her stunned gaze locked on Crowley's body.
Footsteps approached; Charlie looked in. "I heard a shot." Eyes growing round, he peered around Chillingworth. "I say-is he dead?"
Gabriel smothered a crazed laugh. "Very." His grim expression only tangentially due to the pain in his head, he studied Alathea, then softly asked, "Are you all right?"
She blinked, then she lifted her head and looked at him. "Of course I'm all right." Her gaze traveled over him. Wild concern flared in her eyes. Picking up her skirts, she leaped over Crowley's body. "Good God-the bastard cut you! Here-let me see."
Gabriel had forgotten about the cut on his arm. Now he looked and discovered his coat ruined, blood pouring afresh thanks to Alathea's probing. Crouched beside him, she was tweaking the slashed material, trying to see…
"Can you stand?" She looked into his eyes, then grimaced. "No, of course, you can't. Here." She waved Chillingworth closer as she wriggled a shoulder under his. "Help me get him up."
Frowning, Chillingworth lent his aid.
"Just watch out for that damned dress." Hauled to his feet, Gabriel settled against the desk.
Alathea pressed close, pushing his hair out of his eyes to peer into them. "Are you all right?"
Exasperated, Gabriel opened his mouth to tersely inform her it would take rather more than a severe blow on the head and a shallow cut on his arm to incapacitate him. Then he caught a glimpse of the arrested expression on Charlie's face, and substituted, "Of course not." He gestured to the blood darkening his sleeve. "See if you can stop the bleeding. Just be sure you don't damage that gown."
The gown was a fantasy he had every intention of peeling from her, inch by sweet inch.
"Crowley must have some linen stored here somewhere." Alathea glanced at her brother. "Charlie-look around."
By the time Charlie returned, Alathea had eased Gabriel's coat off and laid bare the wound. It was a shallow but wide cut, lifting inches of skin but nowhere deep enough to be dangerous. It had, however, bled copiously and continued to do so.
"Here." Charlie handed Alathea a pile of clean shirts. He glanced at Crowley. "He won't need them anymore."
Alathea didn't spare a single glance for Crowley as she picked up a shirt and started ripping.
Straightening from examining the body, Chillingworth stepped around it. He glanced at Gabriel's wound, and stilled. Alathea bustled to the sideboard in search of water or wine. Chillingworth watched her go, then sent a disgusted glance at Gabriel.
Who met it with a bland if not challenging stare.
Chillingworth raised his eyes to the skies. Alathea returned, a bowl of water in her hands. Chillingworth surveyed the room. "While you're having your strength restored, perhaps Charlie and I should search."
"Good idea," Gabriel concurred.
"So what are we looking for?" Chillingworth rounded the desk.
"The promissory notes?' Alathea paused in her dabbing. "Would they be here?" She looked at Gabriel.
He nodded. "I think so. Presumably, the reason Crowley is here tonight and not in Egerton Gardens is because he got the wind up when he learned of our investigations." His expression grew grim and he glanced at Alathea. "I assume Struthers's activities kicked up too much dust. Did Crowley say?"