He chuckled and scratched his chin. His eyes glinted with a hint of hysteria as he nodded. “Not today.”
In a blink he darted out the door. She gave chase and stopped short at the sight of three pickup trucks pulling into the yard. Men armed with giant wrenches, chains and rifles spilled out of the cabs.
“Inside the house,” she directed and pushed the remains of the door shut. “Stay away from the windows and keep him in the corner.”
She shoved Neimi toward Reutgers and took a careful peek through the gap in the wood.
“Obviously the situation is spiraling out of your control, Sheriff,” Neimi taunted. “We can end this right now if you let me go.”
“The only way this is going to end is with all of you under arrest. Or dead,” she murmured the last part under her breath.
The rag-tag group of men standing in sloppy formation in front of the house weren’t soldiers. They were laborers, working men. Greed or fear of losing their jobs brought them here. She’d bet her last tan blouse that the most action these men ever saw was the occasional bar brawl when a Steelers’ fan dared root against the Seahawks. They were untried and inexperienced. Complete wildcards that made for a potential deadly standoff.
Dear Lord, give me strength and a sign this won’t end in horrible carnage.
An electrical charge zipped across the back of her neck and the hair on her arms stood on end.
She bit back a curse even as she thanked the heavens. “Be on the ready, boys. A storm is about to roll in and he’s really pissed.”
Chapter Fourteen
Brett forced her lungs to take slow, deep breaths as a tempest of anticipation built.
Outside, Neimi’s men began to twitch as if they were being jolted with a cattle prod. They twirled in circles, searching the dark depths of the woods for signs of the imminent attack. Inside, her deputies braced themselves against the walls, unaware that the rumble they felt was coming from one seriously angry alien.
She reached out with her mind, testing their connection in the best way she knew how. The source of Kristos’ energy was a weak flicker but a connection nonetheless. She concentrated on warning him of the danger and to reassure him that she was safe.
His fear for her left a bitter taste on her tongue but there was also a sweet hint of faith. He believed in her. He was there to help, not take over. If it meant saving lives, she’d gladly accept whatever assistance he offered.
She turned toward her troops. “Reutgers, stay with Neimi. If you lose him, it’s your job. Everyone else, when you see men start to fall I want them cuffed before they think about calling for backup.”
“What’s going down, Sheriff?” Tyson asked.
“We’re about to get a little help.”
“From who?”
“The Chameleon.”
At the sound of his name, a flurry of leaves kicked up in a straight line heading directly for the group of miners.
Bursts of light sparkled around the Chameleon where the reflection from the headlights hit the multicolored tunic covering his torso. His blurred image left tracers that reminded Brett of a movie where someone took a hit of acid and the world slowed even as it went a million miles an hour.
At ten against one, the miners were still no match against the Chameleon. A few got in a lucky punch but soon they began to drop like bags of sand, clutching broken arms or shattered jaws.
“Let’s go. Let’s go,” Brett barked. “Watch your backs.”
From the corner of her eye she spotted Collins racing for the thick shelter of trees and followed right on his ass.
The heavy canopy above blocked the morning light, forcing her to watch her step through the tangle of vines and ferns. Using an evergreen for cover, she palmed her Glock with both hands as she strained to hear over her pounding heart.
Silence. A deep silence that made her skin pebble under a layer of sweat.
He was hiding. Was he hoping to wait her out until he was clear to escape or preparing to launch an ambush?
To her right a branch cracked like a bullwhip through the silence. A gunshot followed that came from far to the left.
She clenched her teeth to hold back a curse. Kristos. Goddammit.
“Hey, Collins,” she shouted and rolled to the next tree, hoping to split his attention. “So who’s Colleen Bastian? Ex-girlfriend? Favorite hooker?”
“Shut up.” Another gunshot. The bullet ricocheted off the tree to her side. “She was my foster mother.”
“Is she proud that you’re a disgrace to the badge?” She bent to pick up a rock and tossed it deeper into the woods.
“Shut up!”
A loud crash and a muffled shout erupted. Brett risked a glance around her cover.
Kristos and Collins were a tangle of limbs as they rolled on the ground, fighting for possession of the gun. Plants and roots twisted around their legs as they muscled each other for dominance. Kristos’ rolling rage hit her like a blast furnace in the cold. Only the solid bands of justice tempered his powers, reining in the urge to permanently incapacitate the suspect.
Brett crept closer with her weapon trained on the writhing bodies, waiting for an opening to assist.
Her blood froze as she watched Collins rise up in triumph with the gun in hand. He took aim and fired.
Kristos yelped, reaching for his shoulder as he fell to the forest floor.
Brett reacted without hesitation as years of training kicked in. She fired off two rounds in quick succession. She was taught to aim for the chest and she didn’t miss. Collins collapsed before the sound of her shot stopped echoing through the forest.
Keeping her weapon on Collins, she raced to Kristos’ side. His eyes were shut tight with the pain she felt burning down her arm through their bond. His skin grew pale, glowing whitest around his pinched mouth. “Kristos, sweetie, talk to me.”
“I’m fine,” he gritted. “I think the bullet went clean through.” He opened his eyes, capturing hers with his sad gaze. “Go to him. He needs you.”
She looked over to Collins who lay limp in the ferns. “Stay put. Don’t be a hero.”
“I won’t.”
Once she was satisfied that all weapons were out of reach, she holstered her gun and knelt in the dirt. To her horror the front of his coat was soaked and a trickle of blood leaked from his mouth.
“Son of a bitch,” she shouted and pulled at his clothes until she got to bare skin covered in blood. “Where’s your vest? Dammit, Mick. Where’s your vest!”
“Did. You. Had. To,” he panted. “Made you.”
She stripped off her coat and pressed it to his wounds in a vain attempt to stop the inevitable. “You fucking son of a bitch. Was it worth it? Huh, was it?”
A bit of blood sprayed as he laughed. “No.”
What a waste. What a fucking waste. The moment he drew his pistol he knew what she would do and he did it anyway. And for what, money? He threw his life away for five hundred an acre. Why didn’t he come to her? She would have helped him. If he weren’t dying, she would’ve beaten him silly for making such a stupid choice.
“I so hate you right now.” She reached for her radio and struggled to hold on to the plastic in her slippery grip. “This is Sheriff Briggs. I need a medic in the woods to the west of the Neimi residence stat. Officer down. Repeat. Officer down to the west of the Neimi residence.” Her voice conveyed complete command as big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped to mingle with the blood on her hands.
“Brett. No.” Collins tried to reach for her but dropped his hand. “No tears for me.”
“You need help.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me too, oh God, me too.”
“Don’t be.” He managed a weak smile.
Under her hold, his legs jerked and a long breath rattled out of his lungs. The light slowly faded from his blue eyes until he stared vacantly up at the gray sky.
Great painful sobs ripped from her soul. She cl
enched her teeth tight to hold them at bay but they continued to rip in guttural bursts that tore at her throat. The only other time she took a life was during a high-speed chase of a drug runner that ended with the suspect opening fire on the road block she was part of. She’d been called a hero then. Even received a medal.
But this wasn’t another criminal. Collins had been a trusted partner, a brother. Now he was dead because he was stupid and that pissed her off.
“Brett, it’s not your fault.”
A warm sensation settled over her back, leaching the coldness that pooled in her gut and replacing it with love and understanding.
“Shit, Kristos.” She crawled to his side. “I’m sorry. Sweetie, how are you doing?”
“It’s not your fault, alskata.” He reached for her hand. “He was well aware of the consequences of his actions.”
“I know. But it still sucks. It sucks…hard.” She kissed the center of his palm. “We need to get you to a doctor.”
“I’ll take care of him.” Lucian came into view dressed like the Chameleon. “Paramedics will be here soon. We need to go.”
She squeezed Kristos’ hand tighter. “He needs a hospital. He’s been shot.”
“Don’t worry, sister. I’ve field dressed my share of battle wounds.” He scooped an arm under Kristos and helped him to his feet. “Your man will be waiting for you to return. On my honor.”
Kristos brushed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “Will you be all right?”
“Eventually.” She pressed a kiss to his lips and whispered, “I love you.”
His smile went a long way in healing her heart. “I know.”
“Aren’t you a smart one? If that wound starts to fester, you get to a hospital immediately.”
“Yes ma’am.”
After a last kiss on Kritsos’ lips, the brothers left her alone. She walked back to Collins and said a silent goodbye to the man who was once her friend.
* * * * *
Kristos smiled up at her from his seat on the couch and opened his arms. “Welcome home, alskata. Come rest by me.”
Brett collapsed by his side and brushed away his hug to examine the puckered mark on his bare chest. “The truth. How are you?”
“I’ll heal.” He pulled her into his embrace. “I heard you’ve put the fear of God into the good people of Cedar. Your authority has been firmly established.”
“Yeah that’s me, the big, badass sheriff.” She burrowed deeper into his heat and closed her eyes. She earned the town’s respect but the cost was difficult to bear.
“You are the bravest woman in the universe. I’m so proud of you.”
“Don’t, please. What I did wasn’t brave and it certainly isn’t something to be proud of.”
He drew back and tilted her chin up. The fire in his eyes matched the pulse of heat radiating from her core and up between her breasts, wrapping her in its magic. “It’s not what you did but how you did it. You acted with courage and honor, like a true leader. You are a warrior, Brett, and I’m proud that you are my warrior.”
His kiss brought tears to her eyes. Here she was safe. Here in his arms she was able to let go and feel, cry and be the woman she wasn’t allowed to be in public. Kristos’ love gave her that precious gift and she was almost stupid enough to turn him away.
“Thank you for loving me.”
“It’s my honor, alskata.”
She brushed her fingers through his thick golden hair and cupped his nape, smiling. “Blond, huh?”
He grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss in the center. “Yep.”
“How long will this bond last?”
“Forever, if that’s all right with you.”
She nestled deeper into his arms. “Will that be long enough?”
“Perhaps. I owe you for sending my brother to find me in a humiliating situation. I’m going to need a lot of time once I get you in these.”
He held up his hand and dangled a shiny new pair of handcuffs.
She bit her lip to suppress a giggle. Pressing her tender breasts again his chest, she brushed a kiss along his jaw. “Admit it. You liked being at my mercy.”
“You are a menace to my manhood. It’s going to take me all night, and most of tomorrow, to properly punish you for the slight.”
This time she let her laughter burst forth and reached down to squeeze the hard length straining the zipper of his jeans. “Impressive weapon you’ve got there. But you’ve forgotten something.”
“What’s that?” he stuttered on a breathy gasp.
She scraped her nails down his erection, which made him hiss and buck against her hand. She plucked the cuffs from his weak grip and jumped to her feet, swinging her prize with a triumphant laugh. “I’m not without my own powers.”
He stalked after her, slow and lethal, stripping off his jeans and revealing how ready he was to make good on his threat. “You’re going down, Briggs.”
“Make me,” she taunted with a swipe of her tongue along her lower lip that ended with a startled scream as he closed the distance in a blink of an eye and tossed her over his shoulder.
She ran an appreciative hand over his naked ass and relaxed in his hold. She’d allow this caveman behavior, this time. If need be, there was always a chain of molybdenite tucked under the mattress. Just in case.
About the Author
Anna Alexander’s literary world changed at age thirteen when a friend gave her Kathleen E. Woodiwiss’ A Rose in Winter. With her mind thoroughly blown, Anna decided that one day she too would become a romance novelist. With Hugh Jackman’s abs and Christopher Reeve’s blue eyes as inspiration, she loves spinning tales about superheroes finding love.
The Cloudy skies over her Pacific Northwest home give her plenty of opportunity to indulge in her passions, which are reading, writing and snuggling with a steaming cup of Irish coffee. Now if she could only find a hot Irishman to go with it, then life would be perfect.
Anna welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Tell Us What You Think
We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at [email protected].
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer ebooks or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
www.ellorascave.com
HeroRevealed Page 12
