Sam’s Creed (22 page)

There wasn’t a quiver of uncertainty in the older man’s voice. He meant what he said.

“And when you do?” Sam asked.

“Then
la Montoya
will make the decision of where she will go.”

Even if she didn’t want to go with him. Sam understood that. Even respected it. Isabella’s father had hired good men.

“Fair enough.”

Miguel let go of the rope.
“Bueno.”

A ripple of satisfaction went through the men. As quietly as he’d approached, Miguel resumed his place.

“Anybody have any idea of what direction Tejala took her?” Sam asked, tying off knots.

There was a disturbance behind the line of horses. A boy who looked about eight was furiously kicking the sides of a barrel-bellied burro. The burro trotted along at the same pace, its short legs setting a bruising rhythm the boy went with.

As soon as the boy saw Zacharias, he started yelling in Spanish too fast for Sam to translate.

He looked over at Zacharias. “What’s he going on about?”

Zach shrugged. “I have no idea.”

The boy kept coming like the demons of hell were on his heels, showing no indication of slowing when he neared the horses.

As he got closer, Sam could make out part of what he was saying.

“La Montoya! La Montoya!”
He could also make out blood on the boy’s shirt. A lot of it.

“Give him room.”

The men already were. The Lopez brothers converged on the boy and burro, snatching him off before laying him on the porch amidst a string of harsh curses.

“Who is he?” Sam asked, as Zach stripped the shirt from his chest, revealing a bullet hole high on the left side.

Zach rolled the boy onto his side, ignoring his frantic gasps of
“Escucha me.”
The bullet had gone clear through. That was at least a blessing. He said something to his brother before answering Sam. “My little brother, Jorge. The foolish one.”

“Why foolish?”

Zach smoothed the hair from his forehead. “He followed Tejala when he left.”

“On that burro?”

“Sí.”

He arched his brow at him. “You didn’t stop him?”

Zach’s eyes narrowed at his brother. “We did not know.”

“Are all of you that determined?”

Zach glanced up. The fires of hell had nothing on the fires burning in Zach’s eyes. “Yes. And Tejala will pay for this, too.”

At the mention of Tejala’s name, the boy grabbed Sam’s arm, the small blood-covered fingers with their ragged nails surprisingly strong. He again spoke too fast for Sam to understand. All he got was
la Montoya.
The kid knew something about Bella.

“What did he say?’

Zach took a breath. “He says you must hurry before Tejala hurts her.”

The sick feeling in his stomach grew. “Where are they?”

“Not far.”

That at least was good news. “Where?”

The boy pointed to the canyon.

“In the caves,” Zach said. “They must have holed up for the night.”

He asked the question of the boy. “What about
la Montoya?
”

Zach listened and then translated. “He said
la Montoya
was disrespectful.” Sam closed his eyes, knowing what was coming.
Ah Bella.

“Tejala struck her and then took her off alone to one of the caves.”

There was more Spanish. A hesitation before Zach translated. Sam opened his eyes, waiting.

“He says the men all laughed when
la Montoya
screamed and fought. It made her mad. She grabbed a knife.”

Sam’s heart froze in his chest. The child was too young to know why Bella panicked. Why she grabbed that knife.

No.

“He says many screams came from inside the cave. Much noise.” Zach’s gaze dropped from his.

“What?”

Tucker came up beside him and put his hand on his shoulder. “Let it go, Sam.”

“What did the kid say?”

Zach shook his head. Tucker answered in the flat direct way he had when delivering bad news. “He said she screamed your name and then all went quiet.”

“Son of a fucking bitch.”

Dear God, don’t let her be dead.

The small fingers on his arm squeezed once. Twice. He looked down. The boy stared back at him with tooold eyes in a too-white face and whispered in broken English on broken breaths, “She…waits…for you.”

Shit, he hoped so.

T
he caves were dark. Sam slipped along the ledge that rimmed the openings, conscious of the dynamite tucked into his belt, hoping like hell it was as stable as it seemed to be, but not taking chances by scraping it against the wall. According to Jorge, Tejala had Bella in the third cave from the right. If Jorge hadn’t been so foolhardy as to risk his life by following Tejala’s gang, he never would have known they were here. No fires burned by the entrances. No smell of smoke tinted the air. According to Zacharias, the caves went deep into the mountain with many connecting tunnels which probably meant they vented elsewhere, too. Put a fire deep enough in them and no one would know.

Sam looked out into the desert. He owed Jorge. Without his tenaciousness, Sam would have ridden right past, wasting precious time. Maybe costing Bella her life. If the day ever came when Jorge called in the debt, it would be gladly met. By Sam or any member of Hell’s Eight.

Sam glanced along the ledge behind him. Other shadows followed in his tracks, not by a scrape of a boot betraying their presence. Isabella’s father might have made some mistakes in his life, but the men he hired was not one of them. The Montoya ranch hands were a force to be reckoned with under normal circumstances, but with vengeance on their mind, there were like death blowing in on a cold wind. He held up his hand to indicate for the men behind him to stop. Across the way he could see the other group led by Tucker clearing the edge of the ledge and getting into position. The sharpshooters were there, though they were not visible. A cloud drifted across the moon, throwing them in darkness.

Shit. The ledge was too narrow to traverse without some light. The left side of the ledge was a sheer drop into the plain below. It’d taken them two hours to climb the side of the mountain but they could probably get back down to the bottom in a couple of minutes if they were willing to give flying a try. Sam didn’t feel like flying, but he did feel like killing. Every one of the sons of bitches who’d taken Bella, but especially Tejala. That bastard he was going to take great pleasure in killing. Slowly.

Don’t give up, Bella.

He refused to think she already might have. Refused to think on how badly she would be hurting if she hadn’t. With every second that ticked by during which he was forced to wait, the wildness inside surged and the recklessness grew, one thought overriding all others with the urgency. He had to get to Bella. She was close. She needed him. He had to get to her.

His breath came hard and a cold sweat broke out on his body as the past bled over the present. He saw his mother held down by soldiers. Felt the raw burn from his bindings as he struggled, saw the hopeless plea in her eyes. A plea he wanted to answer but couldn’t. He was just ten feet, just five steps away if he could only move, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t move, couldn’t help her even as he heard that last horrible scream as something ruptured inside her under their torture. Saw her lips move in prayer one last time, saw the acceptance in her eyes as her God and her son failed her. Saw her give up in that moment and as he called to her, begged her mentally to stay, her face became Bella’s. Her eyes, Bella’s. Her pleas, Bella’s. Her prayers, Bella’s. He closed his eyes. For sure, Bella would be praying.

Sam glanced at the heavens, toward the God Bella so believed in.

Don’t you fucking fail her.

A hand touched his shoulder, snapping him out of the nightmare. In a whisper so soft so as not to carry past his ear, Zacharias whispered, “Shoot for more respectful. The odds aren’t that much in our favor.”

Sam blinked. He’d said the last aloud. Shit. He was losing control. He nodded. Light began to leach back into the landscape. He took one breath and then another, forcing Bella from his mind, gathering the cold anticipation of battle around him as a shield. Bella didn’t need him crazy. She needed him doing what he did best. He pulled his knife from his boot while motioning to the others he was going forward. From across the length of the ledge, Tucker raised his hand in acknowledgement.

This was the most dangerous part. Sam had to get past the first two caves without being detected. He crept forward, watching for dark spots on the ground that would be pebbles. He couldn’t afford any noise. Not now. He got to the edge of the first cave. No noise came from within, nothing to indicate if someone was sitting on the other side, ready to shoot. Glancing up at the sky he only had a few seconds to wait. With the moon obstructed, he’d be able to cross in front with no one the wiser. He knew Tucker was making the same approach from the other side. And behind him, a line of men were ready to take his place. The only one getting out of these caves alive tonight would be Bella.

Memorizing the narrow path, Sam waited for the cloud to make its push. Light faded with a slide of black over gray. He moved quickly, chasing it across the entrance, glancing inside as he did. Two men sat in the entrance, their attention on the cards between them. He faded into the shadows on the other side as the men looked up. The cloud moved on. Tucking into a crevice in the wall, he signaled back to the others. Two men inside.

He had to wait longer to clear the second cave. Impatience clawed at his skin, as a wisp of a cloud approached the moon. It was doubtful it would even cast a shadow. He didn’t have all night. Every second was precious. He could see the third cave just ahead. Twenty feet. If he ran straight through he could be there in under a minute. Dead, but he’d be there. Sam tightened his grip on the knife and took several steadying breaths. His corpse would be worthless to Bella. She needed him alive. She needed him to keep his promise.

The next cloud that approached the moon was an insubstantial one at best with nothing bigger close behind. Their advantage was shrinking fast. Sam needed to make a decision. Either he waited for however long it took for a new cloud to make an appearance, or he made do with what he had. A tall man came out of the third cave where Bella was imprisoned, hitching up his pants and fastening his fly.

The man laughed and said something over his shoulder. The world slowed as Sam’s vision distorted at the edge, all the details blurring away like so much unnecessary clutter, leaving only the man’s profile in vivid detail, the jugular clearly delineated. The knife burned Sam’s palm. His fingers twitched, he imagined the bastard raping Bella. Imagined how good it would feel to bury the blade deep in the bastard’s throat, to watch him struggle. The man turned his head and grinned. Sam’s restraint snapped and he leapt to his feet, his gaze never leaving its target.

There was a shout behind him as he started running. Sam ignored it, his focus on vengeance. The man turned as the cloud cover flitted away, and suddenly Sam could see the slight droop of his right eyelid, the shock in his expression as his greasy hair dropped into his eye as his hand went to his gun. Sam’s heart thundered in his ears, blood rushed through his veins. The man’s revolver cleared the holster. With dreamlike slowness, the muzzle pointed up and outward. Sam pushed himself harder, not caring about the bullet in the chamber, seeing only the smile on the bastard’s face, hearing only the laughter. With a roar, he leapt in, catching the man behind his neck, pulling him into the thrust of his knife. The blade cut through muscle and tissue as if it were butter.

An explosion rocked them both. Sam hung on, pulling the knife out before driving it back inward on an upward thrust. Blood spewed from the outlaw’s mouth, spraying Sam’s face. The man crumpled to the ground. Sam let him fall, breathing hard, blinking as the world came back into focus.

“Goddamn it, Sam.” Something hit him hard in the midsection and took him down. Bullets whined above his head. Tucker slammed him back down into the ground when he would have gotten up. “This was not the time to lose your goddamn head.”

Sam spat the dirt out of his mouth. “Get the hell off me.”

“Not until you’re clear on what we’re doing,” Tucker growled as the volley of shots from the interior of the cave subsided.

With a backward jab of his elbow, Sam knocked Tucker off and sprang to a crouch, grabbing his Colt off the ground where Tucker had knocked it. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

There were two men inside the entrance of the cave hunkered down behind rocks. Sam waited. They would do something stupid. Men always did when they had the numbers to make them confident and all they’d seen were two men. What were two against twenty?

They didn’t make him wait long.

On a “Now” they sprang to their feet. Palming the hammer, he put a bullet between each of their eyes. Their guns discharged in a flash of sound. Their bodies didn’t hit the ground before he was heading into the cave.

“Hell!” Tucker said, catching up to him. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“No.” He just wanted to get to Bella.

Tucker grunted, pressing his back against the wall. “Well, try not to be reckless when you’ve got dynamite sticking out of your belt.”

He’d forgotten about that. Sam looked down. The sticks were still there. The cave veered to the right. The wavering glow of torchlight extended past the corner. Beyond he could hear the sound of someone breathing hard combined with the sounds of a struggle.

He lunged forward. Tucker grabbed his arm and hauled him back. “Think.”

Sam leaned against the stone wall.
Shit.
He needed to think. If that was Bella, barging in there could get her killed.

“Damn it,
puta,
you bite me again, and I’m going to break those teeth out of your head.” A man’s voice.

“Touch me again and I will kill you.”

It was Bella, though the words were distorted. Sam closed his eyes in relief. And she was still fighting.

“Big talk for the camp whore.”

“Big talk for the camp coward.”

There was the sound of a fist hitting flesh and a small cry. “Your mother gave you to me.”

Sam inched along the wall behind Tucker.

Bella’s voice was shaky but full of fight. “She did not. She tricked you.”

“Those ropes say otherwise.”

“My Sam will kill you.”

Her Sam was going to castrate the bastard first.

“Your Sam isn’t going to want my leavings.”

Bella didn’t have an answer for that. Sam adjusted his grip on the gun. She was really angling for that spanking he’d promised her. She knew better than that.

Tucker crouched down, gun drawn, and nodded he was ready. Sam glanced quickly around the corner. What he saw made him sick. Bella was tied spread-eagle on the ground. Rough ropes wrapped around her ankles and wrists. An obese man with his pants hanging off his hips straddled her chest. In one hand he had a gun, the other was in front of his body out of sight. It wasn’t hard to figure what he was doing. It wasn’t hard to figure out why Bella’s voice was strained. The bastard was crushing her under his weight.

Beyond the cavern the battle raged. The even repercussions of well-placed shots indicating the Montoya sharpshooters were doing their job, keeping the outlaws pinned down until such time as Bella was free and all hell could be set loose. He took a step. The room tilted off-kilter. Sam blinked and leaned back against the wall, putting his hand to his side. It came away soaked in blood.

Tucker glanced up, saw his hand and mouthed, “Fuck.”

Sam shook his head, wiping his hand on his pants. The wound was nothing. He wouldn’t allow it to be more.

From the other room came the click of a gun being cocked. The bottom dropped out of his stomach. Tejala was forcing the issue with the threat of death. It wouldn’t work. Dying wasn’t what Bella feared.

“Open wide,
puta,
and we will see how laughable you find my cock.”

Tucker cocked his eyebrow at him. Sam took a breath and held it. The walls still bulged and swayed. No. He hadn’t warned Isabella against ridiculing a man’s pride and joy. And even if he had, it wouldn’t have made a difference. Caution wasn’t part of Bella’s nature. She came out swinging with whatever she had. Even if it got her hurt. Damn, she must so hurt…. He blinked again and took a breath.

The room righted. Pausing to make sure it was going to stay that way, he gave Tucker the thumbs-up and stepped around him into the room. The rage took over immediately. Bella thrashed beneath the body of the huge man, fighting her bonds and his efforts. Tejala fell forward, bracing his weight on his arm, his other hand fumbling between them.

“Hear those gunshots?” he grunted as he struggled to obtain his goal. “That’s your Sam dying as he falls into my trap.” He bounced on Bella’s chest. Air exploded from her in a pained gasp. “This is all there is for you now. My cock and my pleasure. You suck me good and I might consider holding off giving you to my men.”

Three more steps. Sam just needed three steps to reach Tejala. He concentrated hard on making those steps without roaring like an animal, without pulling his gun. A bullet would be too easy for the bastard. Too quick. One step.

Bella screamed, “Sam!”

He thought she saw him until her cry split into a high note of loss. And then it ended altogether as Tejala bounced on her chest again, his stomach obviously getting in the way of his goal.

Two steps.

“He will not come for you,
puta.
And even if he does, he will die in the trap.”

Sam wrapped his forearm around the son of a bitch’s throat. “Her Sam will always come for her,” he snarled in the outlaw’s ear. “Always.” His muscles screamed as he dragged Tejala back. Fire shot out from his abdominal wound. Blood dripped down over his hip. Tejala stumbled, almost toppling them both with his weight. As he righted him, Sam had his first glimpse of Bella. He’d thought he’d prepared himself for the fact that she’d likely be beaten, but the blood caked on her swollen split lip, her beautiful eyes bruised and swollen, the handprints around her throat…shit, nothing could have prepared him for that punch in the gut.

He wrenched his arms tighter. Tejala gagged and failed.

From Bella came a pathetic whisper as she leaned up. “Sam?”

Shit, she couldn’t see. “Right here, duchess.”