THERE'S A NEW DARKWING AND HIS NAME IS

ROGUE . . .

Without another word, the cowboy holding the beers hoisted one of the bottles and bashed it against the sitting guy's head. The beefy biker, blood streaming down his face, exploded out of his seat and plowed into the string bean's chest. All of a sudden they were rolling around on the floor and bumping into people at nearby tables. Whoever got bumped jumped up and starting throwing fists. Chairs fell over. The two bartenders and the few women at the room started screaming. I saw Dog dive over the bar and come up with a pipe in his hand. Then he launched himself into the melee. Like a slow wave rolling toward us, I saw trouble coming.

"Time to leave," I shouted, grabbing Benny's arm. I hoped to hell there was a back door because we'd never get out the front. Cormac did an impressive jete over the table and headed down the hallway past the men's room door. I shoved Benny in the same direction, and she took off after Cormac.

I never made it.

Something, a chair I think, hit me across my shoulders, hard. I went down on my hands and knees. Some asshole stepped on my leg before I could scramble up again. I twisted around, blind with rage. I sprang to my feet and lashed out at the first face I spotted, feeling my fist connect with a crack against the side of a guy's nose. I started waling on him while the guy's girlfriend tried to get between us. I wasn't aiming to hit her but she got a fat lip before she decided discretion was the better part of valor.

I started working on the guy with the mashed nose again, who got in a couple of shots of his own. I felt my cheek starting to swell. Then I was pulled backwards by my hair. That just made me madder. I went with the motion of the yank and smashed myself against the body behind me. As soon as I connected with my attacker, I turned my head and bit down hard on the hand holding me fast. I heard a yell and my hair was free. I turned fast and kneed the guy as hard as I could in the groin. He went down.

I heard somebody screaming like a banshee, and realized it was me. I started trading punches with another long haired biker who had no qualms about hitting a lady. I was holding my own until some yahoo hit me from behind with a beer bottle. The room got dark around the edges, and I figured I was about to hit the floor, when suddenly I was scooped up, a beefy arm around my waist, then slung over a leather-clad shoulder, my head dangling down. I started kicking and tried to bite whatever body part I could reach.

I heard a deep voice tell me to stop my damn fool struggling and realized I was being carried down the hallway toward a door opening up into the night.

"Put me down!" I yelled.

"With pleasure," the voice said and let go of my feet. I barely avoided falling face first on the gravel of a small courtyard. I caught myself with my hands and ended up full length on the ground. I rolled over and got to a sitting position, and as I sat there on my behind, breathing hard, I saw the my rescuer climbing a chain link fence. As he pulled himself over the top, he called back to me. "This is the way out."

Feeling dazed, I stayed where I was. My legs had turned to jelly, and I needed a minute to catch my breath. The gravel was hard under my butt, but I was burning up and the cool air felt good. I put my elbows on my knees and just chilled. I heard Benny and Cormac's low voices talking on the other side of the fence, but I wasn't in any hurry to move—until the door to the bar flew open and the fight inside started spilling out into the courtyard. I hustled to get onto my feet and threw myself at the chain link, hoisting myself up the way my white knight just had.

When I came down on the other side, I saw the guy who had pulled me out of the bar standing with my teammates. Their heads were close together and they seemed to be having an animated discussion.

I walked over to them. My face was dirty, I had beer in my hair, and my pants had a rip at the knee, but I still looked better than my rescuer did.

The guy was built, as they say, like a brick shithouse. He was big, solid, and not pretty. His face had been hit too many times to be attractive, leaving his nose off-center and, thanks to the latest dust up, one of his eyes was swelling shut. He also had a Fu Manchu mustache and an evil curl to his lip. His hair was long enough to be pulled back into a pony tail. A small silver skull dangled from the lobe of one ear. Wearing his kind's de rigeur jeans, motorcycle jacket, and heavy black motorcycle boots, he could have been a poster boy for Bad Bikers U.S.A.

He gave off vibes that hit me like a bad smell. He looked mean. He looked shifty. I wondered if he had enough brains left in his battered head to carry on a conversation. My gut reaction to him was negative in the extreme. I didn't know why I felt that way. I didn't care.

Benny fished some tissues out of her pocket and handed them to me. I wiped down my face as Cormac said to me, "This is the other guy Dog called about working with us."

I looked up into deep-set, mysterious eyes that were so dark brown they appeared black. They held no warmth. I didn't like what I saw and it probably showed.

Meanwhile Rogue stared back at me with a look of amusement. "So Rambo is with you?" he remarked to Cormac but kept his gaze on me.

"That's Daphne," Cormac said, sounding almost apologetic. "Daphne, meet Rogue. He's just now agreed to join the Darkwings."

"Like hell," I said.