Chapter 9
ONE YEAR LATER…
“Shots fired at the bank, Sheriff!” Gus hollered as he skidded to a halt in the open doorway of The Velvet Ember’s parlor.
“Blasted thieves,” Jonas swore, slamming his whiskey down. “Sorry, Red. Gotta run.”
Gus’s pale face prompted him to pause. “What is it, son?”
“I think it’s my Pa. He’s rounded up a few—”
Red’s expression arrested. “Mary is in the bank.”
“Goddammit! I swear, that woman attracts trouble like prairie flowers attract bees.”
Jonas was on the move, not waiting for further explanation.
It was pure bad luck that Mary was in the Perdition Ridge Exchange & Trust when Harlan decided he needed to make a withdrawal. And worse, the bastard didn’t have an account and had added others to his one-person gang.
Teleporting would be faster, but there was no way to do it with a town full of spectators. He dashed through the saloon, expecting and finding Draven, with Red and Gus on his heels.
“Bank robbery,” he barked. “Mary’s at the center of trouble again.”
With the grace of the gunfighting gambler he was, Draven flung his cards facedown on the table and rose. “We’ll pick this back up when I return. And should one of you peek at my hand, I’ll remove yours. Compris?”
In unison, his three tablemates gulped and nodded.
Locking gazes with Red, he said, “Keep them honest, chère.”
She waved them off.
Outside the bank, they formulated a plan. “Gus, you keep watch from atop the mercantile,” Jonas ordered, intending to keep the young man from harm’s way. “Draven and I will enter as soon as you’re clear. If they escape, don’t leave your spot, but monitor their route. Got it?”
“Yessir.”
The instant he scurried off, Jonas turned to Draven. “Bulletproof yourself, Masters. We can’t stop time with witnesses.”
“Understood.”
They spared a moment to cast their spells, making it seem as if they were deep in conversation while reciting the words to protect themselves.
“Let’s go.” Jonas led the way, not hurrying, though everything inside was screaming he should.
When he tried the handle, the door was locked, but it didn’t deter him. The shock on Harlan’s cronies’ faces was worth the price of admission.
Harlan, the sneaky bastard, was already on the move, grabbing Mary and putting a gun under her chin. “Just turn back ’round now, Sheriff. Ain’t nothin’ here for you to see.”
White-hot rage burned Jonas from a cellular level, and containing his fury wasn’t easy. This was on him for developing a soft spot for Gus and not wanting to hurt the boy. But he should’ve ended Harlan much sooner, right about the time the sonofabitch cornered Mary the night she snuck out.
With Draven and him as her champions, he’d expected the bounder to back off. But it seemed as if Harlan viewed hurting her as a challenge. Which meant she wouldn’t get off scot-free today. Not unless he was put down for good.
“Can’t do that, Harlan. Too many people rely on their pay to survive.” He shrugged, casting the man a wry smile. “You’d know something about that if you ever worked an honest day in your life.”
Draven leaned against a nearby column, struck a match, and lit his cheroot. After a deep inhale, he blew smoke Os, scaling them down to fit one inside the other. The trick caught the attention of Harlan’s two partners in crime. As distractions went, Draven’s was expert-level.
“I thought you’d understood. Touchin’ ma dame est a sentence of death,” he said, squinting through the haze he’d created. “Let her go, Green, and it will be painless.”
Mary’s eyes widened, and like a wild animal scenting a mountain lion, her nostrils flared with the panicked glance she cast around the room.
Why her standard electrical force field wasn’t working was in question, but magic, especially a wounded person’s, wasn’t always reliable.
Other than randomly electrocuting a threat, she hadn’t learned the standard arts of survival: conjuring food, shelter, or warming her cells against the cold.
Jonas maintained an air of calm, hoping to reassure her.
“You say that, but I’m holdin’ all the cards this time, Masters,” Harlan sneered, pressing the gun barrel harder against her jaw, forcing her head at an awkward angle. “Unless you’re wantin’ to see your scarred woman’s face made uglier, you’ll back off.”
With a resigned sigh, Draven threw down his cheroot and crushed it under his boot. Casting Mary a half smile, he asked, “Why is it always to be hard with stupid people, ma chère?”
She registered his intent a second before Harlan and sagged, straining her captor’s hold. His gun shifted as he scrambled to lift her. But what none of them expected was for the weapon to fire.
The bullet tore up the side of her face, exiting her frontal lobe and lodging into the wall above Jonas’s head.
“Fuck!” Harlan paled as her dead weight became a useless shield.
Four rounds were fired.
Two from Draven, taking out Harlan and the closest outlaw to him.
One from Jonas, taking out the last standing bandit.
The fourth was a mystery until one registered the shattered glass and saw the smoking rifle held by the man above the mercantile store.
Harlan’s body rested beside Mary’s, one bullet in his chest, and the other in the center of his forehead. Until Jonas questioned Draven, he wouldn’t know which was his and which belonged to Gus.
Diving to his knees, Draven felt for Mary’s pulse. From the flash of relief, he found one. Without a backward glance, he swept her away, stalking for the rear exit.
Jonas had to trust him to save her because he couldn’t leave the crime scene with all the traumatized onlookers and staff.
“Why the hell can’t we seem to heal her?” Jonas ran his hands through his hair and exhaled heavily. “Three months in stasis, and no signs of life.”
Seraphina Valentine observed her lover from the vanity mirror, feeling a sense of sadness for his plight. Had she been anything other than a whorehouse madame and business owner, she might’ve felt a tinge of jealousy over Jonas’s obsessive need to save Mary.
But she didn’t.
Her not-so-illustrious career as Roxanne “Red” Vale and a murderous past refused to allow the finer emotions associated with being the sheriff’s mate.
Not that she considered herself anything more than his passing fancy piece.
If she did, it was a sure bet the Fates would come knocking, prepared to destroy the only good thing in her life.
Speaking of the Fates…
“Perhaps you’re not meant to, Jonas.” She never allowed herself to call him by anything but his given name. Pet names were for lovers without secrets. Those who were at liberty to spend their lives together.
He glanced up from his pacing.
What a sight he made! Shirtless, with the top of his britches unbuttoned, displaying his flat, muscle-ridged abdomen and the fine hairs leading to an impressive member. With his blond hair mussed and a day’s growth of facial hair, he looked rough, like she preferred her men.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean, Red?”
“Only that the Fates have a plan for all of us.” She shrugged and leaned in to apply a rich burgundy lip rouge.
The shade was reserved for nights with him alone ever since he’d told her he loved the dark contrast of her mouth against his paler skin as she pleasured him.
Spinning around, she rested her elbows against the table, displaying her breasts to advantage.
It was doubtful she could completely pull his thoughts away from his concerns about Mary, but she wasn’t above trying.
“Perhaps Crazy Mary—”
“Don’t call her that,” he snapped.
With a frustrated sigh, she straightened, drawing her wrap over her shoulders and cinching it. “Perhaps Mary has escaped their design long enough. It’s possible she was never meant to survive Eustace, but we interfered with their plan for her.”
Jonas scowled before turning away and drawing on his shirt. “I have to go check on her.”
“Of course you do,” she muttered. Upon receiving his sharp glance, she shrugged. “It’s always Jonas with his God complex to the rescue.”
“Want to tell me what this is all about, Red?”
“No, I don’t.” If he hadn’t already guessed, a third person in their bed was one too many. Rising, she moved toward the door. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone.”
Sure, he’d already started dressing, and the effect of her precious supply of lip rouge was now a waste, but sending him on his way afforded her control.
Of which she’d had little until opening The Velvet Ember.
It was fortunate The Broken Halo’s owner had adored her and given her the first option to purchase the saloon after his consumption diagnosis three years ago.
The same day Jonas had walked into her life and accepted the job as sheriff.
Her position as his lover and her two businesses provided a deep sense of security, however false. Any affection he felt for her was fleeting and would easily die in the face of a “good girl.” Innocent Seraphina Valentine might’ve been marriage material. The eye-patch-wearing Roxanne Vale was not.
Jonas halted mid-shirt tuck and stalked toward her. His piercing sapphire eyes swept her face, lingering on her mouth. When his gaze locked with hers, he wore a contemplative look.
“Are you jealous, Red?” he asked huskily.
Her heart hammered, but she lifted her chin in defiance.
“Please.” She scoffed. “I’d have to be in love for that, Jonas, and while I hold you in high regard, I’ll never be so foolish as to fall for you.”
Goddess, she was the greatest liar in the west. However, pretending was everything in her line of work.
Disappointment twisted his lips, but in a breath-stealing move, he wrapped an arm around her, hauled her against him, and kicked the door closed.
“We’ll have to see what I can do to change that,” he growled before crushing his mouth against hers.
Seraphina, the silly girl, melted against him as Roxanne, the practiced courtesan, fell into what she did best—seduction.
There was a quality to Jonas tonight so different from before.
A desperation she attributed to his inability to save Mary.
Oh, if only she’d had a man like him in her corner seven years ago.
One who defended the innocent Seraphinas of the world as well as the jaded Roxannes, should the past ever meet the present.
His touch was bold yet reverent, his kisses pure fire. And when he sank into her welcoming warmth, she pretended love was still an option for her and that Jonas wanted to claim her as his forever.