The Chosen (6 page)

“Have any idea which royal house it might be?” Remington asked.

Miss Arliss squinted in thought. “Could be Petrov, or the house of Drossenburg. Both have bat wings in their insignia.”

“Nothing like a little subtlety,” Colt muttered. His brother caught his gaze, and Remington knew Colt was thinking the same thing he was. Colt turned toward the female Darkin. “You two stay put. We’re going to check this out.”

“And miss all the action? No, siree,” China spat back, her face hard with determination. Blast. Remington tensed.

In a flash her form began to change. Everything grew smudged and shapeless for a moment as the particles rearranged themselves into the form of a great golden mountain lion. The mountain lion roared, baring an impressive set of white canines, and everyone took a big step back. He’d only seen her transmogrify once into the hellhound, and he still found it impressive and a bit surreal.

Miss Arliss was pressed against the wall, her porcelain complexion a definite shade paler than normal. Maybe she’d never seen a shape-shifter like this before. Only a desk stood between the two of them, and the big golden beast began to pace his offices, its head bent low and ears pinned flat to its enormous head. All that stored up hostility between the Darkin females was plain and out in the open now. He didn’t have time for this, not with vampires outside his office doors.

“If she wants to go out and greet the vampires, I think you ought to accommodate her,” Miss Arliss offered, a tremor in her voice.

Colt grimaced. He pointed at the cougar. “Fine. Come along, but don’t attack unless they provoke. Got it?”

“We need to know exactly what we’re dealing with first,” Remington added. The big cat growled low and deep and blinked in acknowledgment.

“We’ll be right back,” Colt said to Miss Arliss, then opened the office door.

“Unless there’s trouble,” Remington said with a smile. “Then we’ll be back in about thirty minutes.”

Remington’s mind reeled as Colt cursed under his breath. Remington wasn’t sure if his brother’s reaction was to the vampires looming overhead or to China dogging their footsteps in mountain lion form.

Through the leaded glass doors they could see the dark shadow of the dirigible on the street. It meant the sun was at its zenith. No chance the passengers would come out unless they were fully covered in protective clothing, which left them vulnerable as far as Remington was concerned. So why park the thing smack dab over the center of Tombstone in broad daylight instead of waiting for dark? Clearly this wasn’t an attack. In his estimation as an attorney, they needed something.

“What do you reckon they want?” he muttered as they clomped down the stairs, guns at the ready, the golden mountain lion trailing behind them with soft, padded thumps.

“Hard to say. But make no mistake, they’ll want something,” Colt answered as they swung open one of the double doors to the sidewalk. “You know vampires. They
always
have an agenda.”

A wash of dry heat, smelling of horse, dust, and the oily scent of creosote, tightened the skin on Remington’s face. The heat shimmered in the air, distorting everything beyond the massive shadow of the dirigible overhead that blotted out the desert sun.

A ladder, constructed of rope and wooden rungs, hung down from the topmost of the three decks of the airship. It swung perilously close to the building, threatening to break a window or two. Remington muttered a curse beneath his breath. He’d already had to repair his office building last time Colt had visited. This was getting to be a bad habit, and one that would get him ejected by his landlords if it continued.

Colt shaded his eyes with his hand as a dark form emerged, then started to descend the swaying ladder. Remington tugged his hat down a bit to make it easier to see against the backlit shadow, but couldn’t make out who or what it was, though from the shape and the boots it looked to be a man. He kept his hand on his revolver, just in case.

“About time you made it out,” a familiar voice shouted.
Winchester.
“I was beginning to wonder if Marley had told me wrong about you coming here.” A pair of tight-fitting, dark-lensed brass goggles obscured Winchester’s face, and he was wearing his black oilskin duster and his favorite black Stetson.

Remington slid his revolver back into the holster just below his hip, relieved it was his older brother. Colt did the same.

“What in tarnation are you doing on a vampire dirigible, Winn?” Colt called out.

China rubbed her furry cheek and chin up against Colt’s leg, and he shooed her off with a flick of his hand. She answered with a low rumble in her chest and padded away to sit closer to Remington. He resisted the urge to comment and tightened his hand into a fist then released it, letting go of the urge to hit something. Clearly the shifter still wanted his little brother’s attention, but Colt was no longer interested. The realization that she’d sparked an emotional reaction in him—against his brother no less—stuck thick and hard in his throat. He’d have to be more mindful around her.

Winchester made it farther down the ladder and hopped the last few feet to the ground. The dust billowed up in a cloud around him as he pulled the dark goggles down to rest around his neck. “Was made an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

Remington gave their older brother a narrowed-eyed look, glancing upward at the dirigible. Offers unopen to refusal were dangerous. “You in trouble?”

“No. Not yet. Seems the vampire royalty in Europe think they could use our help in tracking down a missing third of the Book. The contessa says they sent her here to request our assistance.”

“Who
they?
Vampires? They want
our
help?” Disbelief tinted Colt’s tone and echoed in Remington’s thoughts. In general vampires didn’t need anyone—ever—unless it was for dinner.

Winn shrugged. “Simple matter of survival. If Rathe wipes out humanity, their food supply disappears.”

Just as he suspected. Remington grimaced, and his hand tightened reflexively on the butt of his revolver. “Hardly seems like the best of reasons for us to forge an alliance with them,” he muttered. Working with Darkin was an iffy proposition. It could always go either way, which was why he’d avoided doing so until now. Winn never did. Colt seemed to find dancing on that fine line between what was easy and what was right rather addictive.

People were beginning to peek out from behind their closed doors. Across the street the tinny sound of a piano started up again. As odd as the dirigible was, nothing could get the hardy souls of Tombstone ruffled for long. It was part of the reason he’d settled here. The oddity of being a part-time attorney and part-time Hunter didn’t faze the residents of Tombstone any. Not when they’d already had the likes of Wyatt Earp and his brothers as the law in their town.

A gust of wind blew, kicking up dust along the mostly deserted street and making the rope ladder sway. Colt peered up at the windows to the law office, and Remington followed his longing look. The succubus, silhouetted behind the glass, looked down at the unfolding tableau on Allen Street, her arms crossed, nibbling her lip.

He considered the irony. Their pa would be twisting in his grave if he could see his boys working side by side with the very supernaturals he’d trained them to kill without compunction. But at least in his case, Remington didn’t consider the arrangement to be anything more than temporary. Especially not with a Darkin who’d been his little brother’s lover. Somehow knowing she and Colt had shared a past hadn’t been such a big deal before. He and Winn had even enjoyed teasing Colt over it. But now—now he wasn’t so sure.

“Considering how little time we’ve got, if Marley’s calculations are correct, I don’t see much of an option,” Winn answered. “If we want to discover where all the pieces of the Book have been hidden, we’ll have to split up. You two any closer to decoding Pa’s message?”

Colt caught Remington’s gaze for just an instant, then turned his attention back to Winn. “Remy thinks it’s got something to do with either the Weaver’s Needle in the Superstition Mountains or a place called the Eye of the Needle on the outside of Phoenix close to McDowell.”

Winn rolled the sharp, waxed end of his mustache between his fingers, his dark brows bending together in concentration. Winn was calculating in his head. Remington had seen him do it a thousand times before. “Phoenix,” he paused for an instant. “I could get you there in about an hour.”

Raw-arr.
From behind them the mountain lion growled, and Winchester gave it a pointed look. “What is that? And what is it doing here?”

“You mean
who
is that,” Remington corrected him.

Winn nodded with understanding. “Shifter?”

“China McGee,” Colt and Remington said in unison.

Winn’s eyes widened slightly in recognition, and his gaze darted to Colt. He at least had the decency not to let his jaw drop. “Not the same one who—” He waved his hand as if shooing the thought away. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

Remington tried to hide his amused smile, but Colt saw it and punched him in the arm. That was the thing about brothers. They never let you forget anything, especially if it was embarrassing. There was certainly no way he or Winn were apt to forget that Colt’s first run-in with China had been a whopper. It wasn’t often that a woman could best their little brother, leaving him tied up to a bed naked, and get away with stealing his stuff.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Colt growled.

Raw-awrr,
the mountain lion growled again in retort.

Remington couldn’t understand cougar, but he understood the gesture. “She begs to differ.” He holstered his guns and flipped his long jacket back over them. Once upon a time, the story of China and Colt had been something amusing to poke him with, but now that Remington had spent some time in China’s company, it gave him all sorts of unsettling ideas he didn’t have any business thinking about, about exactly what she might do to him in a bed.

“Despite that, she’s agreed to go with me down to follow the clue Diego left about the map in Mexico.”

Colt gazed up at the dirigible. “You sure the contessa would be all right with extra company?”

Winn smiled, and it lifted the ends of his mustache. “We already have Tempus on board. Thought we might drop it off for you. We’re flying to Europe.”

“And now Phoenix is on the way to Europe?”

Colt had a point. Winn would be doubling back for a distance, but air flight was faster than train no matter how you sliced things. “It could be. Are you up for it?” Winn answered.

Colt nodded. “Let me go and fetch Lilly down here from Remy’s office, and we can get going.”

Winn’s face darkened. “You still hanging on to that demon?”

Colt pulled back his shoulders a bit and set his jaw. Winn had a hell of a nerve throwing it at him when they all had uneasy alliances to deal with at present. “She’s with me until we find Pa’s part of the Book.”

The look in Winn’s eyes changed. There was only so far he could push as a big brother, and Colt had long ago passed the point of taking anyone’s advice but his own. Remington usually just watched from the sidelines, preferring not to be the punching bag in between them—literally. “Just watch yourself,” Winn said simply.

As quickly as the tension amped up between them, like a static charge, it instantly dissipated. Colt jibed back, “Look who’s talking. You better consider wearing extra starch in your collars. You might need it, considering the company you’re keeping.”

Winn’s mouth tipped up at the corner. “Fair enough, little brother. Go fetch your demon, and let’s be on our way.”

Colt took the steps two at a time back up to the office. Winn waited until the door closed behind his little brother, then speared Remington with a glance, and jerked his head up toward the second-story office window. “What do you think of the demon he’s with?”

“Nice enough looking.” Beside him, China in cougar form chuffed and growled deep and low, the tip of her tail twitching. He certainly hadn’t taken China for the jealous type, but perhaps she was. Regardless, her behavior only confirmed what he’d suspected. She was still pining for Colt. It was good to know, even if it stung a bit. Okay. More than a bit. But that was nobody’s business but his own. And why did he suddenly feel any different about it? She was just a Darkin. Just a thief. They would get the job done, and then he’d never have to deal with her again.

“Wasn’t what I meant and you know it. Do you think Colt is in danger?”

“Well, on one hand, I think he’s as safe as he lets himself be. He’s got good hunting instincts, and he seems to have struck a fair bargain with the demon.” Although considering how well Colt’s relationship with China had fared, Remington sincerely doubted Colt could escape from his deal with the succubus unscathed.

Winn frowned.

“On the other hand,” Remington continued, “he seems agitated around her, and I’m not sure if it’s because he’s so damn attracted to her or because he doesn’t trust her.”

“Can’t you ever give a straight answer, boy?”

That was his older brother—black-and-white to the bone. Seeing anything in shades of gray didn’t happen for him. “Attorney, remember?”

Winn tugged on the left side of his mustache. “Well, I don’t trust her. Not yet.”

Remington snorted. From the time Winn and Pa had started teaching him about the Hunter life, Winn had been a parrot of Pa’s lessons, taking them literally. “You’ve
never
trusted a Darkin.”

“With good reason.” Winn’s hand strayed to his left thigh, brushing the thick, rope-like scar beneath his pants. Remington counted himself lucky. He’d been the only one to escape undamaged the day the demon had visited their homestead. Winn had nearly lost his leg and Colt had nearly drowned. But Remington knew better than to assume all Darkin were cut from the same cloth.

“At least give her a chance.”

“I will. But that doesn’t mean I won’t have a backup plan in place.”

Remington’s eyes narrowed. Colt wouldn’t like knowing they were worried for him. In fact most times if he caught on they were watching over him, he became even more reckless, as if to prove himself. So how would they know if their little brother was safe with the succubus?

Finally Remington spoke. “China, you can change into just about any animal shape you want, can’t you?”

She instantly shifted, her blond mountain lion fur retreating, her body blurring completely until she was a woman with waist-length blond hair. The fringe on her pale brown leather jacket swung slightly as she stood up, bracing her legs apart. Tight brown buckskin pants again hugged her long, lean legs and fitted over her cowboy boots. He swallowed hard against the thickness in his throat. China McGee was a beautiful woman.

“Human too, if I’m in the mood,” she grumbled in reply as she crossed her arms over her ample chest. Remington snapped his attention away from her lovely cleavage and focused instead on her intense gray eyes.

“Do you think you could hitch a ride up the ladder and check things out to make sure the vampires aren’t just setting a trap for my brothers?” Winn asked.

China shrugged. “I could,” she said, then made a show of inspecting her nails on her long, slim fingers. Remington was already familiar enough with the gesture to know she wanted something. Everything China did came at a price. Exactly how much did he have in the safe upstairs that he could easily part with? “But I don’t see what’s in it for me,” she continued.

“How about two hundred dollars?” Remington offered, trying to stay one step ahead of her. Keeping her off-balance seemed to be the best way of dealing with her.

“And half of whatever we find off Diego’s map?” she countered. Damn she was good.

“Half of everything but the Book,” he countered.