River Arrow (New Guardsmen Book 2) (8 page)
Read River Arrow (New Guardsmen Book 2) Online
Authors: Ella Drake
Tags: #Romance, #Science Fiction - Adventure, #science fiction romance, #postapocalyptic
Copyright © 2014 Ella Drake
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1503085228
ISBN-13: 978-1503085220
Thank you so much to Hailey Edwards, Annie Nicholas and Dee Carney for holding my hand and to Mandy Roth for the push to create River Arrow for TAMING THE ALPHA, the box set which prompted me to re-enter the world of the New Guardsmen. A thank you and more to my editor Briana St. James for whipping me into shape.
And to the man of my dreams who always inspires me.
As a child Ella read every book she could get her hands on, which meant most of her dad's science fiction and fantasy collection. There she found a special love of elves, dragons and knights. Ella has worked as a waitress, cashier, receptionist to a U.S. Senator, network admin, web developer and an all-around card-carrying geek. But she really found her stride when she found a way to combine her first love, Romance, with those fantasy worlds in her own writing. Ella is always happy to hear from readers. Links to all the usual spots can be found on her site:
By Ella Drake
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The New Guardsmen series
Demons of Florida
Future Tales
Wild Seas
Standalone Novels
Novellas/Short Stories
Now available
Two decades after civilization’s fall, Nathan Covington makes his last trucking run into the lawless Midwest dust bowl. The rig he's refurbished has been his entire life, but he’s getting antsy. A change is coming.
Hawk, Scout, scary-ass-bitch. She goes by all those names. Her real one doesn't matter. The only thing that does is survival. Food. Shelter. Supplies. A trucker who doesn't want to give her what she wants? Well, he can be sacrificed. Even if he's the one thing she's wanted to steal more than any other.
Use caution: story contains a heroine who knows how to throw a knife, a hero who dares to run dark in a big rig, a motorcycle gang who’ll do anything for fuel, and sweltering love in the badlands.
…
The thing in the sky came closer. And circled. It looked like a large bird with something dangling from its legs. He squinted and couldn’t be sure, but it looked more like a rope than prey.
His stomach dropped.
He turned on his heel and lunged for the door.
An ear-splitting screech followed him. He stretched his long legs and sprinted for all he was worth. A blur of movement streaked from the side and came to a halt in front of the door.
“Hold it right there.” A woman. Legs spread, expression hard and cruel, she smirked at him. She looked tough. And out here, she’d have to be. But that wasn’t what stopped him.
If she’d been alone, he’d have fought past her, got inside to where the gun rack lined the wall. But she wasn’t alone.
She had a rifle. And it was pointed right at his head.
“Don’t be like some men. Thinking I won’t pull the trigger.” Her warning was soft, even likeable.
Able to defend himself against fists, he couldn’t knock a bullet out of the air. He raised his hands. “I won’t.”
“Good. Maybe you’ll live through this, then.” She didn’t move an inch. Her arms held steady, like she could be there all day aiming between his eyes. “What’s your name?”
“Nathan.” He didn’t see a reason to lie. It would do to be patient.
When the riots had started, his godfather had been in the National Guard. Afterward, there were plenty of military left in Fort Leavenworth, but the community decided there should be a police force separate from the military. The New Guardsmen had started. Derek had taught him well. Nathan knew how to fight. He knew how to strip her weapon away, but being patient had paid off for him more times than rushing into action.
He kept his stance relaxed and his hands in the air.
“What’s your name?”
She chuckled. “We’re polite, aren’t we?”
“Might as well be.”
“Sure. I can kill you quicker than your next thought but let’s be polite about it. No need to be angry unless I decide to pull the trigger. Right?” She grinned and hitched her rifle against her shoulder. The move gave her a rest but didn’t give him an inch. “My name is Hawk. Or maybe it’s Scout. My brother calls me ‘Off Limits.’ Most men call me ‘Cold-Hearted Bitch.’ Take your pick.”
There wasn’t much to say to that.
A sudden, indescribable need took him by the throat. She was pretty, in that way that a wolf was—with feral beauty, untamed nature. Her brunette hair was back in an unkempt ponytail except where it was braided along the sides of her face and adorned with bright pink beads—a surprising touch at odds with the rest of her.
Her full mouth smirked. Her nose had a bump—like it’d been broken. Her skin was tanned. Her arms were muscular. Her lower body was shapely, encased in leather leggings, thin waist accented by a belt lined with throwing knives. Even with the weaponry, she was appealing. But more than that, the way she avoided giving her name made him want it. Bad. Really bad. And in a way he couldn’t explain.
She lifted a brow at him and he stared into her eyes—looked like maybe they were light brown.
“Is that your hawk out there?” If he could keep her talking, maybe he could figure out what was going on and how to get out of it. One moment of inattention from her and he could take her down, but she might not be alone. It would take some time. Some finesse, to get her to waver, but he had the skills to talk, draw someone in, cajole. He was good at it.
“It is.” She didn’t move an inch.
“Anybody else out there?” The skin on the back of his neck crawled. Facing the station like this, anybody, any number of men could be surrounding him.
“Don’t matter. I’m enough. Get on your knees.”
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Badland’s Edge is available from
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