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Summary
"So if you don't mind my sayin',
I can see you're out of aces,"Kate certainly was. She had no weapon, nowhere to run or hide, no escape. Her feet carried her backward until her back pressed up against another tree, and The Deathslinger just kept walking, coming close enough that Kate could smell the tang of cigar smoke on his breath. But he didn't grab her by the throat or snap her neck or haul her over his shoulder, he just leaned in close enough to take a slow, rasping inhale of her hair, and drawled,
"For a taste of your whiskey,
I'll give you some advice."Series
- Part 1 of A Taste Of Your Whiskey