God of My Dreams (Greek Heroes #1) ✅ Completed

Chapter Six: Does that Machete Come in Pink?

Viola (Gwen-Stacey's alter ego tonight) ran through the saloon and headed for the back door. She found the boy Theo already there, trying unsuccessfully to open the jammed door. She pulled him out of the way and gave the door a swift kick, sending it flying open.

Grabbing Theo, she put her fingers to her lips and motioned for him to stay close. She stepped out into the alley.

It was empty.

She let out a quick breath of relief, knowing it wouldn't last long. The alley ended at a dead-end, so they had to move quickly. Waving the boy out, she grabbed a barrel from the alley, shoving it against the door to close it. The barrel wouldn't hold long, but all they needed was enough time to clear the alley.  

Running quickly they made it to the edge of the first building when something threw itself against the door behind them. Not wasting any more time, she grabbed Theo's wrist and ran for the horses.  

Too bad the Apaches had gotten there first. Those damn zombies had even gnawed on her best saddle.

"Look out!" Theo yelled in warning.

Viola turned, knowing she was too late on this particular draw. Expecting the worst, she let out a small sound of surprise as the dead Apache's head flew clear across the air, landed several feet away and rolled. Its eyes were open and its mouth was still trying to bite.

"Ew," she scrunched her nose up in disgust, before looking into the eyes of the sexiest man this side of the Rio Grande. A man dressed all in black save for the pistols at his sides and the machete in his hand.

A really big machete.

Sweet mother of Billy the Kid! He was beautiful. A face as fiercely dark as it was beautiful, with black eyes that seemed older than time itself. Long, jet black hair tied neatly back, with shoulders so wide her hands itched to run across them. He was quite tall and muscular, yet moved with an agile grace she found surprising.

"Best you take this, boy." He handed his machete to Theo as a mass of zombified Apaches and now townsfolk streamed out of the saloon.

The dark stranger pulled out twin Colt revolvers from their holsters, the leather making a creaking sound from the release of their weighty burden. Colt Third Model Dragoon Percussion revolvers, engraved by Gustave Young himself – they were a work of art.

"I hope you got enough bullets in those pistols, mister," she said, raising one eyebrow.

The gunslinger quirked up one side of his mouth in a tight smile, "I ain't planning on whistling Dixie with 'em. Get behind me," he drawled out, his voice sending a sensation both hot and foreign to settle low in her belly.

Thinking such feelings were best explored at a more timely point in the future she ran to stand against his back with Theo right beside her. Together, they proceeded to go all medieval on a whole posse of western zombies.   

And, Morpheus, god of dreams, had the zombie-killing-wild-west-showdown time of his life.

~~ ~

Viola looked around at the carnage in stunned amazement. They'd really done it! They'd killed every last one of them. Even when she'd had run out of bullets the first time, the dark stranger and Theo had covered her while she reloaded.

She studied the gunslinger openly. He was staring right back, his black eyes glinting with dark amusement. He seemed almost...happy.

Well, considering they'd made it out with their skins still on their bones, she could see why.

Theo coughed, interrupting her perusal. "Ma'am, would it be alright..." The young boy seemed to be having a hard time getting the words out of his throat, "uh...would it be alright if I accompanied you? You being a woman and all, you shouldn't be travelling alone around these parts. Unless..." He looked back at the dark gunslinger.

The stranger sauntered over, making the pulse in Viola's throat beat a little faster. "Well, son, I reckon that's real kind of you. I'm sure Mrs. Holiday would appreciate an escort back home."

Viola started. "Excuse me, exactly how do you know my name, stranger? Have we met before?" She eyed him suspiciously, happy to realize she still had a few bullets left in the gun she was holding.

As if reading her intentions, the gunslinger put up a hand in appeasement. "Before you go doing something foolish, I was inside the bar when the marshal said your name."

She didn't appreciate the man's words or his tone. "Foolish is it? Seems to me you're the foolish one, seeing as how you're still gambling with that pathetic life of yours."

"Pathetic?" he said raising his eyebrows in mock challenge, "Who's been seeking revenge for the last three years only to have some crazed, undead Apache eat him, robbing you of it?"

"Begging your pardon stranger, but I ain't that easy to kill," Marshal Oaks said, stepping out of the alley. He looked pretty tore up and bloody, but definitely not dead.

Or undead either for that matter.

He pointed his gun right at Viola, but he was dead before he ever touched the trigger.

Viola had shot her man dead in the eye, and vengeance was officially hers.

And Morpheus, god of dreams, was officially  a Gwen-Stacey fan.