Chosen Prey

by Cheyenne McCray

  She twisted in Mark’s grip, flipped over, and pointed the barrel at Mark’s head.

  “I really don’t give a crap what happens to you,” she said in a harsh voice. “It’s obvious this is self-defense, and I have a witness to prove it.” Her arms didn’t even tremble as she held the gun with both hands. “A local PI is going to have a lot more clout than a dirty sonofabitch like you.” She gave him a cold smile. “Not to mention I’m beneath you, so the angle of the shot will prove that I’m defending myself. Don’t think for a moment I won’t.”

  That’s my girl, Dare thought as he drew out his own gun and aimed it at Adam.

  Mark gave Lyra a furious, vicious look as blood dripped from one corner of his mouth. He smeared the blood across his cheek with the sleeve of his shirt. “The cowboy may have saved your ass again, bitch, but next time—we’ve got something special planned for you.”

  Lyra couldn’t help the cold encasing her heart at his words. By the look on his face as he pushed himself to his feet, she knew he meant every word. No, this wasn’t the end. This was just a delay.

  Dare appeared at Mark’s side, and before she knew it, he slammed his fist into Mark’s jaw.

  Mark staggered sideways and shook his head. More blood spilled from his mouth, and his teeth were coated in red as he regained his balance and growled. His braid was partially undone, and a chunk of loose hair crossed his face.

  “Out of here.” Adam grabbed Mark by the sleeve and gestured to the street. “Car.”

  From the corner of her eye, Lyra saw an old station wagon pulling into the parking lot.

  Mark didn’t take his gaze off Lyra as Adam guided him into the passenger seat of the van.

  Lyra ran to a nearby dumpster and flung Mark’s gun into it, so the people in the car wouldn’t see it. She saw Dare putting away his gun.

  The next thing she knew, Dare had her by the elbow, her pack in his free hand. He practically marched her to his black SUV and lifted her into the passenger seat before she had a chance to climb in by herself. He threw her backpack at her feet, then slammed the door.

  Sweat plastered her hair against the side of her face and she felt like her makeup was melting. Her breathing came hard and fast as she collapsed against the seat.

  Mark and Adam drove their van out of the lot, then her gaze landed on the couple exiting the station wagon. The man and woman gave her and Dare curious looks. Lyra glanced away.

  Dare slid into the driver’s seat of the SUV. His grim expression and the fire in his eyes told her he was pissed. Beyond pissed.

  She’d been so sure she could take care of herself, and here she was, relying on this stranger again.

  He didn’t start the vehicle. Instead, he gave her a long, hard look. His eyes darkened and his lips tightened into a thin line.

  Before she knew what was happening, Dare grabbed her by cupping the back of her head and pulled her roughly to him. The console pressed against her belly.

  Lyra gasped as he smashed his lips against hers and gave her a hard, fierce kiss. His tongue plunged into her mouth and he kissed her like he was conquering her, then owned her. She pressed her palms against his chest and tried to push away, but he clenched his hand in her hair and drew her tightly to him. She gripped his T-shirt in her fists.

  And then she began to give in. And to give back as good as he gave.

  She was drowning.

  He smelled so good. Tasted so good. Of battle, fire, and passion.

  Slowly the kiss became less angry and more sensuous.

  Suddenly he jerked away from the kiss and she wanted to draw him back to her. His eyes still had an angry spark to them, but it only made her want him more.

  “Don’t ever leave like that again,” he growled. “You need protection, and I'm damn well going to be the one to give it to you.”

  “If you kiss me like this every time I take off,” she said, trying to catch her breath, “I might just do it again. And again.”

  His features relaxed and he eased his hold on her hair. He cupped her face in both hands and gave her a soft kiss that sent more electric thrills to her belly. She’d never wanted someone so badly as she wanted Dare at that moment.

  The mere thought shocked her to her core.

  She’d never wanted any man until him. She’d considered it, but never trusted a man enough to let him get that close to her. Trusting a man enough to have sex with him—never.

  The wild sensations coursing through her body right now were telling her differently.

  She let her hands slide down from his hair to his chest, and his skin burned her fingers through the T-shirt. She snatched them away and clasped both of her hands in her lap. The look he gave her told her he more than wanted her, too.

  He glanced from her long enough to dig the keys out of his pocket, jam them into the ignition, and start the SUV. He gave her a long look that caused butterflies to zip through her belly before he turned his attention to driving out of the parking lot and into traffic.

  “They’re likely to look for a vehicle like this one at all the hotels,” he said. She thought his voice shook a little, and his knuckles were white as he clenched the steering wheel. She was surprised at the pleasure she felt when she realized it was because he wanted her. “We’ll ditch this one for something different.”

  Dare’s heart pounded, and he tried to take his mind off of what had just happened between them. He wanted her with such intensity it blew his mind. But after what she’d been through—she had to be ready. She’d have to want him as much as he wanted her.

  After driving up and down various streets to be sure they weren’t being followed, Dare headed to a car dealership off the main drag. He cut to the chase as soon as he walked into the showroom. He told the floor manager exactly what he wanted and how much he was going to pay.

  The manager didn’t argue or try to haggle when he saw how serious Dare was and that he didn’t have time to mess around. The transaction for the black, low-slung sports car with dark tinted windows was finished within an hour and a half. Part of the deal was that the dealership would keep Dare’s SUV in the back after detailing it.

  The powerful engine of the sports car roared as Dare shot through traffic, just barely keeping the vehicle ten miles over the speed limit. He continuously kept his eye out for anyone who might be following him, but his and Lyra’s luck held.

  They reached a fairly nice hotel with a restaurant and room service. Dare could use a good meal right about now. This hotel, a far cry from the casita they’d rented in Tombstone, was luxurious in comparison.

  Lyra had handed him the cash for the night’s stay when they were in the car. He didn’t argue with her take-charge attitude. The woman didn’t look like she was one to be messed with right now.

  After Dare checked in, he went out to the car and grabbed his bag and Lyra’s backpack out of the trunk. She walked beside him into the hotel without talking.

  When they reached the room, he slammed the door shut, tossed their bags on the floor, and they just looked at each other. They stood just inches apart, and Lyra’s heart pounded.

  He took the step that brought them together and he cupped her face in his hands. She caught her breath as he brought his mouth to hers.

  Since she’d left the cult, she hadn’t let anything progress with a man enough to let him touch her—until Dare.

  This time he brushed his lips back and forth over hers and she trembled. When the pressure increased, he remained gentle, almost tentative. His tongue entered her mouth and she tasted him. Such a masculine flavor. She followed him, letting him teach her how to kiss. How to really kiss. Those teenage fumbling attempts before the Temple of Light were nothing compared to having a man like Dare kiss her.

  The contact in the SUV had been so filled with fire and emotion from the fight with Mark and Adam. The kiss she and Dare had shared had been a release of all the intensity of what they’d experienced. His way of telling her he was in charge now, that he was going to take ca
re of her.

  She had responded with matching primal need that had taken over all her senses.

  And now she wanted that fire, wanted whatever he could give her. Dare drew away and she licked the moisture from her lips as she looked up at him and he smiled down at her. So sexy, so sensual.

  He reached up to tuck her short hair behind her ear and his smile slipped away as he said, “We have some talking to do.”

  Lyra rubbed her hands up and down her upper arms, warding off a sudden chill that took away the warmth of his kiss. She moved out of his embrace and toward the window.

  “Uh, honey.” Dare walked up behind her, took her by the shoulders, and backed her away from the window. “Can’t take any chances. You could be seen.”

  He turned her to face him. “How did you end up in the Temple of Light?”

  She drew away from his grip. For a long moment she just looked at him. He waited with an expression that told her he wasn’t going anywhere and that she wasn’t, either, without them having this conversation.

  Finally, she said, “My dad died just before I turned fifteen.” The memories played over in her mind like they always did when she thought about her father’s death. “Mom was lost without him. She’d always been kind of spacey and not totally together. Mom was definitely not self-reliant. She was also easily swayed and into New Agey kinds of things.”

  Lyra turned her back on Dare and closed her eyes for a moment. She felt only the cool air of the hotel room against her skin and the soft hum of the air conditioner. “Mom’s father died when she was eleven. Stepping back and looking at it from the outside, from what I saw growing up, I think my dad replaced what she had lost and she clung to that need for a father figure.”

  When Lyra opened her eyes, she swallowed down the rising panic that always came from thinking of The People. “My mother and I met Neal before Daddy’s death, at some kind of program she dragged me to in Portland. Where we lived…before. I can’t remember the sermon clearly,” she continued, “but he talked about the ‘Light’ and how we could all work together in harmony and serve the Light. How we would be the blessed children and leave behind all that was evil in this world. Some bull like that.”

  Everything around her blurred as the memories came harsher and faster. “Not long after Daddy died, the next thing I knew Neal was taking my mom and me for a ride. I had no idea that it was an actual cult until we got there. Once they had us in the commune, there was no way out.”

  She felt the heat of Dare’s gaze on her back, but she didn’t want to look at him while she talked about it. “Armed guards along the inside and outside the fence,” she continued. “No one got in that Neal didn’t allow, and no one got out except for the men who were his leaders of the Light. Like Mark and Adam.”

  Her mind turned to the reason why she and her mother had ended up in the commune. “I think Mom was so dependent on others that she grabbed onto what Neal offered her. He was a strong figure, a male she wouldn’t be intimately involved with, and he represented what Mom thought she needed. At least that’s what I’ve come to believe as I’ve grown older.”

  Lyra flinched at the memory of the three years after they were taken into the cult. “Of course, Mom was totally brainwashed and lost touch with reality.” Lyra clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. “I hated it. I hated Neal. I hated my mother for taking me there. When I figured out there was no way to escape, I pretended to go along with his crap.”

  “How did you get out?” Dare’s voice came from behind her, low and soothing, and bringing her slowly back to the present.

  “I was desperate to get out of there before Neal—” She swallowed, nearly choking at the thought. “I got really lucky. Neal was off with one of his wives and I followed Jeffrey to where the cult kept their vehicles.

  “I’d overheard earlier that he was going into Portland for supplies.” She began pacing the room as she continued, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “It was dark, and I’d grabbed a black tapestry out of the Prayer Room and wrapped it around myself, inside out. I snuck into the back of Jeffrey’s truck. I hid myself behind some crates and made sure every inch of me was covered.

  “When he parked, it was in a dark alley and there were some men on the driver’s side. They talked about making an exchange, money from the cult for drugs—LSD, crack, marijuana.” Tremors ran through her body at the memory. “When I realized I was in the middle of a drug deal, I was so scared I’d get caught. But I was on the opposite side of the truck bed, and while they made their deal, I dropped the tapestry and slipped out of the truck. As soon as I was far enough away, I ran. All I had was the twenty bucks I found on Neal’s dresser,” she said, “and the freaking robe he forced me to wear.”

  “The only thing I’ve always felt guilty about,” she said as she paced, “was leaving my mother behind, even though I hated her for what she put me through. But I knew she would be fine. I wouldn’t have been fine once Neal got his hands on me.”

  “What did you do next?” Dare’s tone was quiet, concerned.

  “I stole some clothes and hitchhiked to Tucson, which seemed far enough away without having to worry about cold and snow. I lived on the street, in homeless shelters, always moving, and working odd jobs.” The memories of those days were a mixture of pain from what she went through to survive and a feeling of freedom from having escaped the Temple. “I worked my way up from being homeless to making out all right. I was lucky, too, that after a while a nice woman helped me get into a women’s shelter so I didn’t have to live on the streets or stay in homeless shelters. I kept creating and selling my artwork and saved every penny I could to start a new life.”

  “You’re amazing.” Dare’s hands gripped her shoulders from behind, stopping her midstep. He began massaging her neck with deep, even pressure of his thumbs. “How old were you?”

  “Eighteen when I left The People,” she said, still tense beneath Dare’s skilled fingers. “Five years ago.”

  She pulled away from his massage as she turned to face him and tilted her head back to look into his eyes. “Your turn.”

  Dare slid his hands down to hold hers. “What do you want to know?”

  “First of all,” she said, keeping her voice dead serious. “How did you get a name like Dare?”

  The corner of his mouth quirked and she knew he hadn’t been expecting that question. “My first name’s Jake. Dad started calling me Dare when I was a kid. I was something of a show-off, especially in front of girls.” He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles. “I never refused a dare. Like to have gotten myself killed a time or two.”

  A smile crept across Lyra’s face. “I can picture you pulling all kinds of stunts.”

  “Jumping barrels with my bike, fences with my horse, driving my car a hundred miles an hour, playing high school football like the devil was after me—stuff like that.” He shook his head. “Broke my leg once, my foot another time, and my right arm twice. Ended up with a lot of scars. It’s a wonder I’m still alive, all the crap I pulled.”

  Lyra withdrew from his grasp. She moved to the bed, perched on the edge of it, and braced her hands to either side of her hips. “There’s something I’m very curious about. How did you find me?”

  Dare sucked air through his teeth and paused a moment before replying. “The man who came to my office had a piece of your artwork. I happen to have a friend who has some similar work, so I checked with him to see where he bought it.”

  Lyra stared at him head-on. “Everyone knows me as Linda in Bisbee. So how did Suzette know to send you to me?”

  “A wild hare,” he said. “Didn’t think it would hurt to check to see if you were one and the same.”

  She raised her chin. “Bet you didn’t expect to get a face full of pepper spray.”

  He found it hard to hold back a smile. “Sure as hell didn’t.”

  Lyra closed her eyes and tilted her face to the ceiling. So much pain filled her beautiful face that Dare wanted to take her in his arms a
nd caress away the hurt. To protect her from ever being hurt again.

  He moved to the chair beside the desk and sat, not five feet from her. He leaned forward and propped his forearms on his thighs as he spoke. “Tell me why they want you so bad.”

  “It’s stupid.” Lyra opened her eyes and stared toward the window. “And embarrassing.”

  “You can tell me.” He tried to relax, but the tension in his body wouldn’t let him. He knew this wasn’t going to be good.

  Lyra shook her head, her expression miserable. “I can’t,” she whispered.

  “I need to know, honey,” he said softly. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

  A deep, shuddering breath wracked her body, and she looked down at her hands. “When I lived with The People, Neal, the Temple’s Prophet, said Jericho—the First Prophet—visited him in a vision.” She turned her gaze to Dare. “Jericho told Neal that he would take a wife who would bear his son, the next Messiah. And Jericho told him that I was the one who would carry that child.”

  Her words slammed into Dare with the force of a two-by-four. “Shit.”

  “Isn’t that the truth.” She fisted her hands, her expression furious. “When I was eighteen he planned a joining ceremony where I would become his new First Wife. He has a whole bunch of wives, but I was supposedly the Chosen.” Tears glistened in her eyes, and she clenched her hands so tightly her knuckles were bone-white. “That’s when I ran away.” She sniffled. “In one way I was lucky, because the Prophecy said I had to be eighteen before Neal had sex with me. Most girls in the cult are married off to men when they’re fifteen—or else they’re pretty much raped.”

  Fury pumped through him and Dare barely resisted slamming his fist into a wall after hearing what the bastard had put Lyra through—was still putting her through. Not to mention all the other girls and women in the cult. He pushed from his chair by the desk, strode to Lyra, and settled on the bed beside her. He pulled her against his chest, drawing her tight within his embrace.