Satan's Angel

by Candace Camp

  “He left hours ago,” Amy said quietly. “There’s no point in looking. He went last night.”

  Slater sighed and shoved his gun back into his holster. “Come on. I’m going to take you girls to the Menger. Then I’ll go after him.”

  “Why?” Amy asked. “He’s far away by now. I don’t even know where he’s going.”

  “He’s headed for Mexico.”

  “No,” Amy replied quickly. “No, he’s not. I think he went back north.”

  “You just said you didn’t know where he’s going,” Slater pointed out.

  Amy shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know exactly. But I know he wasn’t going to Mexico.”

  “Why are you lying for him?”

  “Lying? I’m not. Why would I do that?” Amy gazed back at him calmly.

  “Don’t be absurd, Slater,” Victoria snapped. “Come on, let’s take Amy to the hotel.”

  Amy was being strange. Victoria couldn’t figure it out. Of course, she hadn’t expected Amy to act normally after the ordeal she’d been through. But that was the odd part. She seemed too normal. She was obviously unhappy, but there was none of the terror or the relief that Victoria had expected to find. The only explanation Victoria could think of was that Amy had blanked out her memories of the kidnapping just as she had done as a child, blocking out the memories of her parents’ deaths. If that was the case, Victoria didn’t want Slater asking her questions and dredging up the painful past.

  “All right.” Slater sighed. He was positive Amy wasn’t telling the truth; she wanted Brody to escape. Slater was sure from how quickly and firmly she had denied that Brody had gone to Mexico that Mexico was exactly where he‘d gone. There was no need to question her further. Brody wouldn’t have been so foolish as to tell the girl exactly where he was going. The thing to do now was make sure the two women were safely ensconced in their hotel, then set out after Brody.

  They left the room. Amy insisted on taking the Mexican blouse and skirt that lay on the dresser, despite Victoria’s assurances that they would find her something better to wear. They walked out of the house, and, to Victoria’s amazement, Amy hugged Dorette goodbye at the door.

  Amy saw Victoria’s surprise, and she explained softly, “She was kind to me.”

  “Yes, but—well, of course you don’t know what she is.”

  “Yes, I do,” Amy assured her. “She owns that place. It’s called a brothel, and the women in it sell their bodies to men. But not Dorette. She used to, but now she doesn’t have to.”

  Victoria gaped, and Slater had to hide a smile. They mounted their horses and rode away, Victoria and Amy riding double. None of the group glanced across the street, so they did not see the thin man who stood there, staring at them in dismay.

  Cam McBride had been positive that he finally had Brody cornered. He’d followed Brody and the girl from the hideout, planning to ambush them before they reached San Antonio. But then he had lost them in the rainstorm. He’d ridden into San Antonio, cursing himself for not jumping them earlier. He was essentially a cowardly man, and he was particularly scared of Brody. So he had hesitated, delaying the moment of truth. The result had been that he’d lost him.

  He’d gone to a saloon to drown his sorrows, and as he had come out of it, he had glanced across the street. And there, miraculously, was Sam Brody. Cam realized that his luck had finally changed. He followed Brody, but there hadn’t been a good opportunity to ambush him. Cam wasn’t about to go after Brody in a face-to-face fight. When Brody returned to the whorehouse, Cam followed him inside and listened outside the door. It was obvious that Brody was there for the night, so Cam had slipped away to catch some sleep, returning to stand watch at the crack of dawn.

  He wasn’t going to charge into the house, shooting. There was too great a possibility that he would get shot himself. He would wait for Brody and the girl to leave and follow them. This time, he would make sure he killed the other man at the first opportunity. The girl, too. She would be too much of a nuisance to travel with, and besides, she might kick up a fuss with the authorities about the way he killed Brody. Cam intended to make sure Brody suffered for what he’d done to Cam’s face before he let him die.

  But now, here were Slater and that damn woman, walking out of the whorehouse with Brody’s woman between them. That could mean only one thing—Brody had slipped out of the house during the night, leaving the girl behind. He had lost Brody again.

  McBride wanted to throw his gun down and howl in rage. After all this, he’d lost him! He seethed with frustration. He hadn’t suspected that Brody would slip out in the night. The things he’d heard Brody saying to the girl in the room last night hadn’t sounded like the words of a man who was about to leave. He’d sounded like a man so far gone on a woman he didn’t know which way was up. But Brody must have worked up some trick to evade Slater. Maybe he would come back for the girl later, or…

  McBride straightened, a grin spreading over his face. Luck was on his side, after all. He’d thought of a way to get Brody back and in his power, without a lick of danger to himself. He followed Slater and the women at a distance until they went inside the hotel. They’d women would stay put there the rest of the day. The Ranger would ride after Brody, surely, leaving the two women alone. His for the taking. He could relax—maybe he’d while away the night at a whorehouse—not Dorette’s, of course; she’d never let her girls entertain him. Cam had found out in the past that she held grudges as strongly as he himself did. Maybe more so; he’d never turned down money because of a grudge. But tomorrow morning he’d pay a little visit to Dorette and set his plan in motion.

  ***

  Slater checked Victoria and Amy into the Menger Hotel. Victoria had to admit that there was something nice about having Slater take care of her. He escorted them to their room, then pulled Victoria into the hall to talk privately.

  “Will you and Amy be able to take care of yourselves?”

  For a moment Victoria gazed at him blankly. “Yes, of course. Why?”

  “Good. Wire your father to come and get you, and, please, for once, stay put in the hotel. I’m going after Brody.”

  “Oh.” Of course. She had gotten Amy back, which was all she had been interested in, but Slater had sworn to bring Brody back. She should have known he would continue chasing him. “I see. But—how will you find him?”

  “He’s going to Mexico, so I’ll take the south road. I’ll ask about him, try to find someone who’s seen him. He’ll have to stick to a route where there’s good water. That will limit his possibilities.”

  Victoria frowned. “But Amy said he’d gone the other way.”

  “She wasn’t telling the truth. She denied it too fast and too vehemently, right after she said she didn’t have any idea where he was going.”

  “Amy never lies. She doesn’t know how.”

  “Then Brody taught her something.”

  Victoria’s eyes flashed. “How dare you—”

  Slater grimaced. “Don’t get all fired up about it. I’m not saying your cousin’s a liar. But for some reason she wanted to mislead me. Maybe she’s scared of him, thinks he’ll come back and get her if she tells me where he went. I don’t know. But I’m positive Brody’s headed for Mexico.”

  Victoria sighed. She reached out and took his hands and squeezed them. “When—when will you be back?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know.” He paused. “Your father will come to get you.”

  “Yes. I’ll send him a telegram. I’m sure he’ll take us home.” She looked away. Suddenly she realized that Slater would go one way and she would go another. Their lives would split unless they did something to change that. This was where it would end unless Slater chose to return to her. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, wanted to beg him to return to her, but even Victoria’s nerve failed at that. She couldn’t make a man love her by begging.

  Slater stood for a moment, gazing down at her. He hated the idea of
her leaving San Antonio and going home with her father, slipping back into the family and life she’d known before him. It surprised him how much he wished she would be waiting here for him. It was hard as hell not to ask her to. He wanted to tell her that he’d be back for her in a few weeks. He wanted to ask her to be his wife.

  But he knew how unfair that would be. They had just gone through an exciting, dangerous time together; they were still filled with wild emotions. What Victoria felt might not be love at all, but only the desire and closeness of the moment. It would be wrong to ask her to commit herself to him now. She needed time to discover her true feelings.

  And Slater had to finish this thing with Brody. He had to find him and bring him in, or he’d never be able to rest. It could be a matter of weeks. It could be months. Hell, he’d been after him now for years. When he finally did catch up with Brody, there was always the possibility that it would be Brody who walked away from the confrontation, not him. It would be cruel to ask Victoria to give her heart and her word, knowing how uncertain his future was.

  Everything was against it. But, Lord, it was hard not to take her in his arms and pour out his love to her.

  A door opened down the hall, and a man emerged. He walked down the hall past them, tipping his hat. They nodded, and Slater stepped back, letting go of Victoria’s hands. He couldn’t even kiss her goodbye, couldn’t even lay claim to her with his mouth or press her body against his one more time. This was too public a place. Slater moved back another step. “I’d better not waste any time.”

  Victoria’s hands clenched in the folds of her skirt. “All right. Good luck.” Wasn’t he even going to hug her? Kiss her? Was this all she would ever have of Slater? “I—be careful. Don’t get yourself hurt.”

  He smiled. “I won’t.” He paused, then turned abruptly and walked away.

  Victoria watched him until he was out of sight. Tears blurred her vision. She leaned back against the door. She had to go inside now and take care of Amy. But all she wanted to do was burst into tears. Slater was gone, and without a word of love to her!

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Numbly, Victoria walked back into her room. Amy was sitting by the window, gazing out. She glanced at Victoria as she came in, then turned her face back to the window.

  Victoria sat down heavily on the bed, suddenly weary. She remembered her elation this morning. It seemed strange to think that it had been only hours ago. It was too soon and too far to fall.

  Slater was gone from her for good. He’d said nothing about seeing her again. He’d said nothing about love. Was it possible that he felt nothing for her? Had his moans of passion and sweet words been born only of desire?

  Victoria remembered what he had said one night when they were camped out. They were too different, he had told her. They couldn’t get along; they were always fighting. He must have been trying to make her understand then that he didn’t love her, would never love her, that what he felt for her was only lust. She had simply been too stubborn and blind to accept it.

  Victoria had gotten what she wanted all her life, with very few exceptions. She did as she pleased, and when she desired something, she pursued it until she had it, whether it was a horse or a piece of knowledge or going with Slater to catch Sam Brody. Because she wanted Slater to love her, she had believed it would happen. Even though yesterday she told herself that she wanted Slater no matter how he felt about her, she knew that in the back of her mind she had believed that somehow, some way, she would make him love her. Now she saw how foolish and wrong she had been.

  No matter how much she could usually bend people to her will, Slater was one person she could not dominate. And love was something that could not be forced on a person. It came freely or not at all. Victoria swallowed hard, blinking away her tears. Well, she had asked for this. She had wanted to make love to Slater, no matter what, and she had gotten her wish. She refused to regret it or sorrow over it. It had been beautiful, and she would treasure it always. Slater’s lack of interest in her didn’t change the way she felt about him, or about the lovemaking they had shared. She would not cry because she hadn’t gotten everything she wanted.

  She was a strong person. She would go on with her life. She could live without the love of a man; she’d done it for years without any problem. She had Amy and her father and the ranch. They would have to be enough for her. She would make them be enough.

  Victoria burst into tears. She stretched out on the bed and buried her face in the pillow, trying to muffle her sobs.

  “Victoria!” She heard Amy’s shocked voice, and then Amy was beside her, bending over to lay her head against Victoria’s. “Tory, love, what’s the matter?”

  Victoria shook her head, digging her fingers into the bed cover, trying to choke back her tears. But she could not. Amy’s kind, concerned voice was too much for her, and she turned over and reached blindly for her cousin. Amy wrapped her arms around Victoria and held her, rocking gently and patting her on the back, until finally Victoria’s tears subsided.

  “Oh, Amy, I’m sorry.” Victoria pulled back, wiping away her tears. “I’m so ashamed. I should be the one giving you comfort, after all you’ve gone through—being kidnapped by that awful man and forced to—”

  “No! Don’t say that. He’s not an awful man.”

  Victoria stared. “What? How can you say that after he grabbed you off the street and carried you away? After he—he—had his way with you!”

  To Victoria’s astonishment, Amy giggled. Amy covered her mouth and tried to draw her face back into sober lines. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed. I know you worried about me. But I—what you said sounded like something Aunt Margaret would say. And it’s so silly, you know, compared to what it’s really like.”

  “Compared to what it’s really like!” Victoria’s voice rose. “What are you saying, Amy?”

  “Oh, Tory, it was wonderful, magnificent. We made love. It wasn’t Sam ‘having his way with me.’”

  Victoria stared at Amy, too stunned to speak.

  “I know you were scared about me, and I’m sorry. I wish I could have let you know that I was all right. But when we saw you in the cave, you had that lawman with you, the one who wants to capture Sam, and I couldn’t call out. He would have hurt Sam, and I couldn’t risk that.”

  “In the cave? You were in the cave the other day? You saw me, and you didn’t say anything!”

  “I told you, I couldn’t, or that lawman would—”

  “Amy, how could you? How could you help that criminal get away? Slater was right. I didn’t believe him when he said you were lying. But he was right, wasn’t he? You knew Brody was headed for Mexico, and you tried to make Slater think he wasn’t.”

  Amy nodded and sighed. “I only wish I’d done a better job. I’m not any good at lying.”

  “Amy! This is crazy! Brody is an outlaw. He’s a bank robber. He’s killed people. He kidnapped you and held you prisoner for days and days. He—he raped you.”

  Amy shook her head vehemently, and her eyes flashed. “He did not! You’re wrong, Tory. He’s not a bad man. He was never anything but gentle and kind to me. Some of his men were bad, but not Sam. He never killed anybody unless he had to. He didn’t rape me. I had to persuade him to make love to me.”

  “I can’t believe this.” Victoria shook her head.

  “I love him.”

  “Amy. . .”

  “I do. The reason I was sad when you found me wasn’t because of what I’d ‘been through.’ It was because he left me behind.” Her lips wobbled on the words, and tears filled her eyes. “Dorette says he did it for my own good, that he doesn’t think the life he has to lead is fit for me. But I don’t care! I wanted to go.”

  “I don’t understand,” Victoria said weakly. She felt as if the world had suddenly gone mad. The last person she would have thought her sweet, gentle cousin would fall in love with was an outlaw. In fact, she had never really considered Amy fallin
g in love at all—she had always seemed too childlike for Victoria to give the idea much thought.

  “He was good to me, Tory. He treated me differently from everyone else. He didn’t act as if I was stupid, or crazy, or a child who couldn’t do anything. He treated me like a woman. He loved me. He listened to me. He taught me how to do things, and answered anything I asked him, and he never told me that it was something I shouldn’t do, or that it was too hard for me, or that I didn’t need to know it.”

  Remorse swept through Victoria. “Oh, Amy, have I treated you badly? I’m so sorry—I know that I must have said some of those things, but I was always worried about things overwhelming or upsetting you. God, I was so terrified picturing you all alone while you went through whatever happened out there.”

  “Victoria, you haven’t ever treated me badly—and you were always with me.”

  “What?” Victoria frowned. “What do you mean?

  Amy went on, “Every time I was scared or I needed to be strong. I thought ‘What would Victoria do?’ You help me so much even when you’re not physically there. I love you and Uncle Edward, and I know you love me. I was happy with you. But with you, I was a child. You were good at everything and took care of things far better than I could. There was never any reason for me to do anything. Besides, however much you and your father love me, it’s just not the same as a man loving you.”

  “I see.” Victoria thought about the way she felt in Slater’s arms, the wild passion that erupted inside her when he made love to her. She thought about how much she loved him. Was that the way Amy felt about Brody? Her sweet, innocent Amy? It seemed impossible, yet apparently it was true.

  Suddenly Victoria giggled. “Oh, Amy! Isn’t it crazy? We’ve both fallen in love with men that nobody would believe we’d love.” Tears filled her eyes, and her giggles turned watery. “And we’ve lost them.”

  Amy held out her arms, and the two girls clung to each other, crying.