Old Lady of the Iron Crown

y P

the floorboards. I pressed the heavy steel pistol aga

ter disbelief. "I'm a charity case from a Vance

he inner breast pocket of his tailored black shirt, and pul

rate fingers, he pe

as forged with brutal, intricate detail: a skeletal iron stallion

caught hard

shoulder blade. The shape beneath my fingertips-the outline I had carried for as

nto my open palm. The metal was

lence the mechanical chaos outside, "the IronHorse mother chapter was ambushed. The Prez's newbor

his hand, panic clawing at my throat. "No. No, this is

sn't gentle, but it wasn't cruel; it was an iron ancho

his glasses flashing as he leaned close. "You carry the pure

that I had spent years suppressing. "A

ly smoothing over the bruised veins on the back of my hand. "It is a ninety-nine point nine percent match to the Preside

clinic as the reinforced steel roll-up door was t

s, and the deep, throbbing idle of

drawing both suppressed pistols, his stan

" a booming voice roa

ough the shattered entryway. Every single vest carried the massi

s and automatic rifles, moving with the disc

tted Doc, the guns dropped in

n sharp respect. "Perimeter is locked down five blocks

c commanded coldly. "Th

landed on my face, the brutal hostility on their scarred fe

eathed, lowering his head.

enough to show the dark warmth beneath. "Can you

y voice finding a steady, har

orward and lifted the entire iron frame of my cot with effortless

n the demoli

etbutts were pressed flat against the drywall, shaking violently as four a

ast like royalty, guarded by the most feared outlaw club on the West Coast, all

ngle word. She was an insect beneath the tires o

t into the c

men in leather. Over two hundred patched members sat astride custom machines, blocki

massive, matte-black armored medical coach, i

p the steps into the sterile, high-tech interior. The twins were gently transferred into

e glass of the coach, I watched the

aring, their strides heavy, purpos

d scar running across his right eye, his graying bear

-streaked dark hair, clad in an old-school leather ves

oking down out the window.

door his

eaving, his bloodshot eyes locking onto my face with