SEDUCTIVE SUPERNATURALS: 12 Tales of Shapeshifters, Vampires & Sexy Spirits (18 page)

“I’ll take her,” a man with short black hair and clean-shaven cheeks said, pointing at me like I was a horse in a corral.

Aiken cocked his head to look at me, and I held my breath for a moment. “Sorry, sir. She’s not one of the girls,” he said.

“She looks like one to me.”

“She is a beauty. Can’t say that I’ve ever seen so fair a face. But she is from a finer breed than my others.”

“That’s what you said about them, too,” another man interjected. “You’s just saying it so as you can charge more.”

Aiken’s smile made my skin crawl.

“Were that the truth, sir, I would have you call me out. But I’m willing to wager this young lady is of yet untouched. What price can a man put on such virtue?”

I jumped to my feet. “I’m not for sale.”

“No, dear, for your price would be far more than what any man here could pay.”

“Who are you to say what we can or cain’t pay?” the first man asked. “I got a bag full of gold in my pocket and a mine that’s spittin’ out the nuggets.”

“He do,” a voice agreed. “I seen it with my own eyes.”

“I am not for sale,” I repeated.

Aiken said, “You heard the little lady. She will not give herself over to the likes of you.”

His words were inflammatory, and he knew it. Offended, the man said, “I’m as good as any man. Better than most. I’m good enough for her.”

“The lady says she’s not for sale,” another said.

“She thinks she’s too good. I’ll show her ain’t no woman too good for me. I’ll make her come around.”

I saw the warring mixture of excitement and disgust on the face of the man who’d spoken on my behalf, and I understood what was happening. I’d become a challenge.

“I think she’d like me better,” a new voice said, and a big, burly man stepped through the crowd.

“She ain’t gonna get the chance to know. She gonna want only me after she had me once.”

“I am not having anyone,” I said clearly. “I’m lost, and the Captain has promised me safe escort to a town.”

“She’s a spitfire all right,” Aiken said. “It’d take more than one man to tame her. It’s a shame she’s not willing to let a single one try.”

I watched with horror as the idea of it went from one to another. Honey, Chick, and Meaira were in the tents, and the gusting breeze brought more than quick glances at their activities. It scented the air. I was young, but I knew nothing was as dangerous as a mob of men. My daddy had told me stories that had made my blood run cold.

The black-haired man shook his head and walked away, but the other men moved in closer. I thought quickly. I picked one out of the crowd who looked to be unsure. “I could be your sister,” I said to him. “Or yours,” to another.

My words hit some of them like cold water, but before I could feel relief, the burly man pushed through and said, “You couldn’t be mine. She’s got a face like an ass.”

Laughter burst out all around him and then enthusiastic talking. I tried to force my point again, but no one was listening to me now. The burly man moved in and took my hand. “I’ll be as gentle as you let me be, darlin’,” he said to the delight of those behind him. Another man leaned in and told him to loosen me up good.

I didn’t wait for what came next. I began to fight. I hit and scratched and kicked and pulled and screamed. Honey rushed from the tent at the sound of my voice and turned on Aiken.

“You can’t do this,” she said, eyes wide.

“I told them no. I told them twice she was a lady.”

I twisted and bucked in the burly man’s arms. It looked like I might get help from the crowd, but those who moved forward were held back by those who wished to be next. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Had these men lived like animals for so long, they’d ceased to be part of humanity as I knew it?

The man who had me in his grasp nearly made it to the tent with me screaming and struggling for all I was worth. He didn’t wear a gun, but my hand brushed a knife at his waist. I tried to reach it, I tried to pull it free, but he trapped my arms, smiling grimly as he hauled me closer. Honey was there, working at his grip to pry me free, begging the man to take her instead, telling them all they could have her if they’d just let me be. But no one listened. My struggles had become a point of fascination. I could see it. None of them were able to look away. I screamed, though I knew it would do no good. It was all happening too fast. It seemed hours since he’d grabbed my hand, but only a few seconds had passed. If I could just slow him down . . . It was then that a horse charged into camp.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the rider, a man nearly as big as his mount. Though his face was in shadow and his clothes covered in dirt, I recognized Sawyer McCready immediately, and I cried out his name. A part of me acknowledged that I was praying for rescue from a man who was possibly as disreputable as Aiken, but I only knew that I was glad to see him. He pulled his gun and fired into the air.

The sound echoed loudly, and a sudden, stunned silence fell over the small crowd.

“Captain,” Aiken exclaimed, pushing out of the throng to stand beside Sawyer’s horse. “I am powerful glad to see you.”

Sawyer ignored him and spoke to the man who held me captive. “Let her go,” he said.

The burly man stared Sawyer down. Having fought to capture me, he wasn’t going to set me free on command. “She’s mine,” he said.

“I’m not yours,” I said.

“Let her go,” Sawyer repeated. His tone was low, his words hard.

The man hesitated and Sawyer leveled his gun. For a moment, no one moved, and then slowly, his hands loosened. I jerked free of him, and Honey gathered me up, pulling me out of reach before he could change his mind. But I was too angry to just crawl away. I turned on him, slapped his face, not once but twice, staring at him like the trash he was. I saw something flash in his eyes. Something that spoke of a man who might once have lived inside him, a man who would have been shamed by what he’d done. Then it was gone and he struck me back. The blow knocked me sideways, and I staggered. Only Honey kept me from falling. White spots mixed with red danced behind my eyes. Sawyer’s gun was cocked before they cleared.

“Fool,” Honey muttered as she dragged me away. I didn’t know if she meant me or the burly man.

Aiken moved in closer to Sawyer and spoke in low tones. Sawyer listened, watching the crowd with his gun still in hand. After a moment, he nodded. Aiken faced the men, his crooked smile flashing.

“Drinks on me, boys. Let’s get back to having a good time.”

And just like that, it was over. I couldn’t believe it. The men moved away, and Honey sat me down on the crates. I was shaking, and I was terrified.

“Honey, there’s still business to do,” Aiken said, his voice steady and commanding. “Don’t want the boys restless, do we now?”

“You’ll be okay here,” she said to me, though I didn’t think she believed it any more than I did. She stood, and a moment later she led the burly man into the tent. I clenched my eyes against the sight.

Someone touched my shoulder and I jumped, opening my eyes again. Sawyer squatted down in front of me. His fingers were gentle as he tipped my chin and stared at my face. My cheek throbbed, and my eye was swelling shut.

“You’re going to have a shiner,” he said. But his voice was not steady, and I sensed that the sight of my battered face upset him more than he’d like to admit.

“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you for helping me.”

He nodded once and stood. I looked up the long length of him, and though just yesterday I’d tried to plunge my knife into him, right then I wanted nothing more than to be in his arms. As contrary as I was to think it, I wanted him to shelter me from this barbaric world that had somehow become mine. I watched the swirling colors in his eyes as he listened to my thoughts. It seemed he might reach for me, answer my silent request, but Aiken chose that moment to approach.

“Captain,” Aiken said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Lucky for us you showed up. A mob’s an ugly thing. There was no backing them down.”

He stared at me when he said it, and I recognized the threat in his eyes. I looked to Sawyer who was nodding. He believed Aiken.

“You pushed them to it,” I said fiercely, locking eyes with Sawyer. “He encouraged them, told them they’d have to fight me to get me to surrender.”

“Fight both of us,” Aiken said, laughing loudly. The sound filled the camp, and I remembered that I had thought him pleasant when I’d first met him.

“She’s understandably rattled by what happened, Sawyer. She’s confused. I never would have done such—”

At that moment, six men on horseback rode in at a gallop, stopping Aiken midsentence. They pushed through the small crowd of miners without care of who might be in their way. One man jumped just in time to avoid being trampled.

“Is this a party?” one of the riders asked. “Thought I heard a gun, but it sure looks like a party to me. I don’t recall getting my invite, though.”

I recognized the voice and turned my head to gaze at him full-on.

“I said, is this a party?” Lonnie Smith repeated. He had his gun in his hand, and the dried blood of my family still smeared on his clothes.

Diablo Springs: Chapter Fifteen

Gracie was shaking when she walked out of the kitchen, her emotions so twisted that it hurt to breathe. So many nights she’d cried herself to sleep. She’d raised their daughter, unable to answer the simple question,
Who is my father?
because she’d known it would be followed by
Why doesn’t he want us?
and the pain of not having an answer that would satisfy either one of them.

Well, now she knew the truth, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

Chloe and Jonathan still sat at one of the round tables, but it looked like the card game had ended. Bill stood behind the bar with grocery sacks stacked in front of him. She glanced at the bags before meeting his eyes.

“It looks like we might be stranded here for a while,” he said apologetically. “I didn’t want to disturb you when I put them away.”

“Thank you,” she said, blushing. Wondering how much of her conversation had been overhead by the ever-inquisitive Chloe.

The swinging door opened with a little more force than necessary and Reilly came out. He didn’t even look at Gracie as he crossed to the stairs and took them up. He was angry. Gracie realized so was she. Angry at him for circumstances he couldn’t control. Angry at him for not doing a better job controlling the ones he might have.

Most of all, she was angry at herself for feeling all the mixed-up—messed-up—
longing
that made it impossible to pretend that anything else mattered.

She took a deep, shuttering breath. A logical side of her said Reilly truly had made the right decision all those years ago. Matt was more than a bad seed; he was the whole damn orchard. He wore his hostility on the outside, a snapping turtle with an impregnable shell.

He’d started watching her when she was thirteen. She remembered the unsettling feel of his gaze tracking her. After school. After work at the Buckboard where she was a hostess on Friday and Saturday nights. Outside her house.

Reilly had told him to stop, but he’d only succeeded in making Matt more furtive. Reilly’s brother had been the reason for their plan to run away. Her grandmother had been the motivator, and the passion of young—stupid—love had been the catalyst.

She shook her head, only marginally closer to understanding everything that had happened. For a moment, she stood undecided beside the bar. She didn’t want to join Chloe and Jonathan at the table, but the thought of being idle upstairs left her chilled to the core. With a stiff breath, she looked around at all the unfamiliar paraphernalia that Grandma Beck had accumulated. She didn’t even know what do next. Grandma Beck had cut Gracie out of her life, and it was a safe assumption that she’d cut her out of her afterlife, too.

But Gracie and Analise were her only living relatives. Where would all her grandmother’s things go if not with Gracie? Who would settle her affairs?

With Juliet on her heels, Gracie returned to the kitchen and opened the door that led to the basement. For as long as she could remember, Grandma Beck had used the landing to store empty boxes and old newspapers. She still did. Even if her things went to charity, they would still need to be packed, and Gracie had time on her hands. Perhaps it would give her some insight into the woman she’d hated almost as much as she’d loved.

Grabbing a stack of papers and an empty box, Gracie started upstairs. She passed Analise’s room on the way and paused, listening for signs of life. She’d expected Ana to return downstairs after changing, but she and Brendan hadn’t emerged since coming back from the doctor’s.

She put the packing supplies in the bedroom and went back to Ana’s door. She knocked softly, her head close to the wood panel as she listened for a response. Nothing. Not even the dogs barking, and they usually couldn’t resist such an opportunity to raise the roof. At Gracie’s feet, Juliet cocked her head and gave a low whine.

She tried the door. The knob turned easily; it wasn’t locked. But the door didn’t budge when she pushed. Gracie put some muscle behind it, shoving hard while a sizzling drop of panic hit her stomach and flared.

She tried again, using her shoulder now while Juliet made a deep, hushed, motor revving in her throat. Not her usual warning of danger, but a low signal of fear.

“Damn it,” Gracie breathed as cold sweat broke out over her skin.

Suddenly the hall felt close, dark and thick with something she felt but couldn’t see. Like a corrosive mist, it coated her flesh and began to burn. She shot a look over her shoulder. All the doors were closed. No one was standing just behind her, hot breath on her neck. So why did it feel that way?

She gave Analise’s door a last desperate thrust, and it swung back with unexpected ease. Gracie stood on the threshold, staring at the serene picture her daughter and boyfriend presented, struck by a deep, inexplicable fear inside. Analise and Brendan lay on top of the purple comforter, arms around one another, both fully dressed. She could see the uneven rise and fall of their chests, the lax expressions on their faces. Sleeping, like the children they were.