" "Oh? Where is he?" "She's dancing," she corrected, fully aware of what he'd just done. His smile broadened and he leaned closer. Rebecca clenched her hands desperately over her half-empty drink. "Why aren’t you with her? Don't you like to dance?" Rebecca shook her head. "Not really," she admitted, hating how boring that made her sound. To her surprise Rome just nodded in agreement. "Same. I have no rhythm to speak of, and I'm not quite drunk enough to make any attempts yet." Rebecca nodded once, and they lapsed into silence. She surreptitiously watched as Rome gulped down the remainder of his drink, a dark bluish thing she couldn't identify. When he was done he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at her. Rebecca didn't pull away as he leaned into her and set his stubbled cheek against hers. One of his hands landed on her naked thigh, and she bit back a gasp at the sensation. "Hopefully we'll see each other again later," he whispered into her ear. His breath was hot. It would not come out so I left the bayonet in him and went after the man who had been holding her arms. I kicked him in the face and then in the ear after he fell, stomped on his chest and got turned at the woman's warning cry just in time to see a bleeding soldier pull the pistol from his gasping sergeant's belt.As he cocked it and held it up toward me with both hands, the woman rolled over and kicked him in the belly. The pistol fired almost straight up, and I was on him in a second, throttling him and then bashing at his skull with the pistol butt until it caved in.I stood panting, hands on knees, looking around as the young woman got to her feet, brushed her clothes and came to stand beside me, her hand on my heaving back, holding her dress together at her bared breasts."I don't understand," she said. "They were my husband's men."I put my foot on the chest of the one they had called Bob and drew my blade out of his limp body. I cut the throat of the man I had stomped since he.
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