Roping Savannah

by Jory Strong

  Only Kye’s training as a bounty hunter kept him from using the Ylan stones at his wrists to dematerialize the men in The Ferret’s apartment. Only the knowledge that a quick movement might endanger Savannah kept him from reaching out and shoving her behind him.

  “What are you guys doing here?” Savannah asked and the men lowered their arms, holstering the primitive weapons though Kye didn’t drop his guard.

  “We could ask the same about you,” one of the men said. His face hardened, his lip lifting in a slight sneer as his gaze flickered to Kye. “And who’s the pretty boy?”

  Savannah frowned. “None of your business, Mastrin. So Vice has an interest in The…” she stumbled, threw out a name Kye didn’t recognize, “in Ricky?”

  “On a first-name basis with the low-lifes, Holden?” the other man asked, shifting his bulk from one foot to the other, his gaze moving to take in the trashed living room. “Has Ricky got something that belongs to you? That why you tore up his place?”

  Savannah stiffened. “This is the way I found it after he was a no-show. What’s your interest in him?”

  The cop named Mastrin smiled, the flash of his teeth reminding Kye of the sharks he’d seen when he was guarding Krista and she’d visited an aquarium. “That’s on a need-to-know basis, Holden. Last time I looked, your name wasn’t on the list.”

  “Last time I looked,” the other cop chimed in, “this isn’t your beat. Your captain know you’re dealing with snitches like Nowak?”

  “That’s on a need-to-know basis, Creech,” Savannah shot back, moving into the other cops’ personal space.

  They stepped out of her way at the last minute, giving her a clear path to the exit.

  “You calling this in or you want me to?” she asked from the doorway.

  Kye’s eyes narrowed as he watched the two men exchange glances. The one named Creech said, “We’ll handle it. You see anything? Touch anything? Find anything?”

  “No, no and no.”

  Kye moved to stand next to Savannah.

  “What about him?” Mastrin asked.

  “No,” Kye said, keeping the distrust out of his voice, feeling compelled to warn the two men that Savannah wasn’t unprotected. “I am also involved in law-enforcement and trained in dealing with these situations.”

  Mastrin laughed, an unfriendly sound. “You a rent-a-cop?”

  “A bounty hunter.”

  Creech glanced at Kye and frowned. “Nowak jump bail somewhere?”

  Amusement moved through Kye. He suspected he’d pay for it with a lecture from his mate, but he couldn’t resist. “As your partner said earlier, That’s on a need-to-know basis and your name isn’t on the list.”

  Creech’s face flushed an angry red. “Where can we find you?”

  “With me,” Savannah said, taking Kye’s wrist. “And we’re smoke.”

  Kye congratulated his mate on holding her temper until they got inside the elevator. He even managed to keep his reflection somber in the shiny metal walls as Savannah ranted and cursed in frustration, though he also heard the underlying worry for this snitch whose car had been blown up. When she finally lapsed into silence, he said, “I don’t trust those two.”

  Savannah frowned and he once again had the urge to smooth her skin back into place. “Creech and Mastrin? They’re still pissed at me for mucking up their investigation.”

  “What happened?” Kye asked as the elevator doors opened and they stepped out into the hallway.

  Savannah sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly, and Kye found it impossible not to reach for her, to pull her into his arms and hold her against his body, their faces only inches apart. Their eyes locked.

  Joy raced through Kye at the way she relaxed against him, instinctively accepting the protection and caring he offered. Acknowledging, at least for the moment, that she recognized the natural order of things, the way it was supposed to be between mates. He would see that no harm came to her. In fact, as soon as possible, he would see her safely housed on Belizair.

  “What happened?” he asked again.

  “I hauled in a couple of underage girls for prostitution and stepped on some toes in Vice, including Creech and Mastrin’s.” She pulled out of his arms. “Time to face the music.”

  He allowed himself a small smile. Earth sayings amused him and his mate’s earlier exit line, We’re smoke, was one he intended to remember and use just prior to dematerializing and transporting.

  They left the building, Kye’s training taking over, his eyes scanning the area, looking for danger to his mate. It bothered him that he’d had to leave her truck unprotected, but there’d been no choice but to do so. Unwelcome realization intruded. A co-mate might prove useful while Savannah remained on Earth.

  He shook the thought off. Pride filling him when he saw Savannah scanning the area around them as they moved forward. It pleased him that his mate was a warrior—though she would not be allowed to pursue such a calling on Belizair. She was already important to him, and if she had the Fallon gene marker as he suspected, then she would be too valuable to the survival of their world to risk.

  Kye scanned the area again, sensing danger. Though he didn’t have the wealth of experience his cousin Lyan did, Kye had been to his share of primitive planets and hostile, alien cities. Before he began his service for the Council, he had protected both Amato and Vesti alike as they worked on other worlds.

  A shiver of warning streaked up Kye’s spine. He whirled, instinct and training converging in a smooth action as his wrist lifted, his mind already commanding the Ylan stones so that in the blink of an eye, in the instant he saw the sniper sighting on Savannah from the upper story of a nearby garage, the stones reacted, reducing the killer and his weapon to particles so small that neither a healer nor Amato priest would be able to re-form him.

  “You see something?” Savannah asked and Kye turned toward her, his heart thundering in his ears, adrenaline charging through his body like a series of lightning strikes. At her quizzical expression he lowered his wrist. The sense of being watched, of danger, gone.

  “No,” Kye said, closing the distance, both of them checking her truck for signs of tampering or explosives before climbing in. Kye once again in the driver’s seat.

  Savannah called the station but wasn’t surprised to learn Creech and Mastrin had already set the wheels in motion for her to get reamed by the captain. “Get your ass in here, Holden,” he said when her call was put directly through to him.

  “You’ll stay with the truck?” Savannah asked a short time later as they parked in the lot reserved for police department employees.

  Kye frowned but nodded. He hated the idea of letting her out of his sight but his presence would only complicate matters for her and he knew she would be safe inside her workplace.

  Savannah squared her shoulders and went in, rehearsing arguments in her mind, though guilt pooled in her stomach as she remembered the earlier conversation with the captain and her stifled impulse to tell him about The Ferret’s call. He was going to be pissed, and she knew he had a right to be.

  “Sit down, Holden,” he barked as soon as she walked into his office.

  She sat. “Captain, I’m—”

  “Getting ready to use up some of your vacation time.”

  Her heart jerked, the pool of guilt turning into a lake of icy water. Was she going to lose her job over this? She’d rather know than guess. “And when I come back from vacation?”

  “Hopefully things will have cooled off and the guys in Vice will have forgotten your name.” He shot her a hard look. “And you won’t do anything else to bring it to their attention. Now tell me what you did after you left the station. After we had our last little chat and agreed you were going to stay out of trouble.” There was no mistaking the sarcasm and anger in his voice.

  “I met a friend at a place called The Dive.”

  A muscle jumped in the captain’s cheek. “The same place where a Beamer belonging to Ricky Nowak just happened to blow
up?”

  “I was supposed to meet him there but he was a no-show. I was going to tell you about it after I talked to him, when I had something to pass on.”

  The captain closed his eyes and massaged his eyelids. “What’d he have?”

  “All I could get out of him was that he knew something too big to talk about over the phone. But like I said, I met a friend. She came into town unexpectedly and then The Ferret…Ricky Nowak…was a no-show. Next thing I knew, the Beamer was blowing up.” She paused, wondering if she should mention the black car Krista saw, then decided against it. Krista was running from something. Her men—maybe—but Savannah’s instinct said it was something else.

  She’d intended to badger the truth out of Krista when she paid a “friendly” visit to the cabin later on. But given the nature of her own set of problems, Savannah knew she was going to have to put that on hold. She couldn’t risk going anywhere near her family or Krista until she could figure out whether the bomb was meant for her or whether the bomber just got tired of waiting around and decided to blow The Ferret’s car, maybe as a warning.

  Savannah decided to risk a question, given how the Captain seemed relatively calm. “Did they find him in the car?”

  The captain’s hands stopped moving—a bad sign. He pulled them away from his face and gave her another hard look. “You haven’t gotten to the good part of your story yet, Holden. Why Vice found you in Nowak’s apartment. Why there was no call-in from you, not even a one-liner stating your intentions, suspicions or the fact you might need backup.” He slammed his fist on the desk. “Oh, that’s right. You had backup. A bounty hunter!”

  Guilt weighed Savannah down, bending her spine slightly and pulling her shoulders in. “Sorry, Captain. I got caught up in the heat of the moment.” She decided to embellish a little bit in the hopes of giving the captain some peace of mind. “And the bounty hunter isn’t working a case. He’s my friend’s boyfriend’s cousin. He’s kind of a last minute hook-up.”

  The captain sighed, a long, tortured, why-me sound that actually made Savannah feel hopeful. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Holden. First you’re going to tell me whether or not you found anything of interest in Nowak’s apartment.”

  “Nothing, sir.”

  “Good. Next you’re going to get your ass out of my office, out of this station house and, if you’re smart, out of the city for a while. As of now, you’re on vacation. Repeat after me, Holden, I am on vacation.”

  “I’m on vacation,” Savannah dutifully repeated. “For how long?”

  “A week minimum.”

  “What about…”

  The captain held up his hand. “I’ll handle the paperwork. I’ll handle the explanations. I’ll even handle Vice.” He paused. “Holden, do I look like I enjoy kissing ass?”

  Savannah grimaced. “No, sir.”

  “Do you want to know why I’m willing to do it?”

  She was tempted to say no, just to avoid feeling worse about not mentioning the meet with The Ferret earlier, when she’d had a chance to come clean about it. “Yes, sir.”

  The captain snorted. “Not likely. But I’m going to tell you anyway. Pride, Holden. In my officers—who sometimes get a little too full of themselves but who are good cops. And because your uncles and I go back a long way. Now get out of here.”

  Savannah stood. Hesitated. Wanted to ask again whether The Ferret’s body had been in the car. Decided against it. Then decided she’d never be able to duck out of sight if she didn’t know the answer. “About The…about Ricky Nowak. Did they find him in the Beamer?”

  Captain Holden sighed. “Far as I know, the car was empty.”

  “Thanks, Captain. For everything.”

  “Yeah, when you come back from vacation you can show your appreciation by bringing me some of that salsa your grandfather makes. It’s going to take something hot and spicy to get rid of the bad taste in my mouth from kissing ass.”

  Savannah laughed but quickly suppressed it when she saw he wasn’t ready to let go of his “mad” yet.

  “One last thing, Holden,” the captain said as she got to his door. “I want you to check in daily. My direct line. And just to be on the safe side, use a pay phone. And don’t use the same one twice.”

  “Sure thing, Captain.”

  He sighed, worry flickering on his face for an instant. “Get out of here.” And she left his office and the police station with a lighter heart and a resolve not to put him in a bad position again—though as soon as the resolve formed, she wondered what she was going to do about The Ferret.

  Nothing, she forced herself to answer. Nothing. Though the answer chafed like a pair of ill-fitting cowboy boots.

  Chapter Four

  Savannah spotted her banged-up Chevy and the sight of the truck had never looked so good. She snickered. Of course that just might have something to do with the man casually leaning against the hood. Wow! Who’d have guessed a man with long hair would be such a turn-on? She’d grown up with cowboys and that was the look she usually went for, but right now the thought of spearing her fingers through all that silky blackness and using it to hold Kye down to the mattress while she rode him to a mind-blowing orgasm nearly had her panting.

  Of course, turnaround was fair play, and if he wanted to do the same to her, she was willing. Savannah grinned. After the day she’d had, the week she’d had, hell the last year of what she hadn’t had, she was more than willing—and he was a safe bet—related to one of Krista’s boyfriends, so not exactly a stranger.

  Too bad he hadn’t brought a friend with him. Oh yeah, taking on two guys at once was a big fantasy of hers. But then again, he was gorgeous and she was sure he could help her find ways to keep occupied and therefore stay out of trouble until things died down and the guys in Vice weren’t gunning for her. Savannah laughed. It was probably just as well Kye was alone. He was a lot like her brothers and despite the fact she could rope, ride, doctor, brand and castrate with the best of them, the men in her family all seemed to think women needed to be protected—not just from possible outside dangers but from themselves.

  Savannah’s thoughts flashed back to The Dive parking lot and how Kye had taken her keys from her, then opened the door and forced her into the truck. How he’d yet to relinquish her keys.

  Yep, he was a lot like her brothers, which therefore meant he was going to take some work. Her gaze traveled up his body, lingering on the clear outline of his erection before moving to tight abs, a muscled chest and a face that could stop traffic. Damn, he was gorgeous. She met his eyes and her cunt spasmed at the heat she saw in them, the possessive confidence. Oh yeah, he was going to need some serious work and she was just the woman to take him on.

  Kye straightened away from the truck as Savannah approached. The spring in her step told him she wasn’t in too much trouble with her captain. The look in her eyes told him she was ready to get down to the important business of mating.

  He grinned even as his cock tried to force its way out of the uncomfortable Earth clothing. It was probably a good thing his mate had no idea what was in store for her. A permanent bond. A change of address, as the people on her world liked to say.

  By the stars, she was a vision. A tigress not unlike the large cats found in the jungles of Belizair. And he could hardly wait to mount her, to claim her, to sink his mating fangs into her.

  “Keys, Batman,” she said, coming to a stop in front of him and holding her hand out, challenging him and firing his blood, fanning the flames of the Vesti mating fever.

  “I will continue to drive,” he said, enjoying the narrowing of her green eyes, the thought of taming her.

  He was torn between wishing she’d assault him—as the fire in her eyes predicted—and hoping she’d wait until they had some privacy. As bold as his mate was, he doubted she’d like to be spanked publicly. Though he had little doubt her behavior would soon warrant the feel of his hand across her bare buttocks.

  Kye grimaced, only barely restraining him
self from grasping his erection as his cock jerked in anticipation of being pressed against her as she lay across his lap to receive her punishment. He turned away from her, deciding it was better to avoid further confrontation by simply getting into the driver’s seat and leaving her no choice but to be a passenger.

  Savannah gave him directions to an apartment building that had him frowning with dismay. “Yeah, I know,” she said. “But I’m not home much and I can’t see paying a fortune in rent for something nicer.”

  They climbed out of the truck, both of them stopping to look at it, no doubt thinking about the informant’s destroyed car. Savannah scowled, glancing up and down the street. “Why don’t you stay here while I grab some of my things? Maybe I’ll spend a couple of days in Tahoe while things chill out.”

  Kye had no intention of letting her out of his sight again. “Where is your apartment?”

  “Fifth floor.”

  “On this side?”

  She pointed upward and to the left. “On the corner.”

  “If we get there quickly then I can guard the truck from there.”

  Savannah hesitated for only a second before nodding. “Fine.” She held out her hand. “Keys.”

  This time Kye relinquished them, only barely managing to suppress a smile. His mate might think she now held the upper hand, but he was confident he could retrieve the keys from her in the privacy of her apartment.

  They caught the elevator, getting to her apartment in record time, with Kye going directly to the window.

  “Shit,” Savannah said, still standing just inside the door and scanning the tiny apartment. Sniffing, catching just a hint of aftershave. The scent familiar, though it didn’t set off any alarm bells. “Someone’s been here.”

  Kye’s entire body stiffened. “Gather your things,” he said, his tone making her glance at him. Making her think that despite his cockiness and quick laugh, he was probably a damn fine bounty hunter.

  She didn’t argue. She didn’t have a death wish. Instead she moved around the apartment, making a quick check, noticing that whoever had been there had been careful. They’d searched her desk, gone through the things on her kitchen counter and coffee table, but tried to put it back the way they’d found it.