Firestorm

by Monette Michaels

  "After we check out the shooter's hide," muttered Price.

  "Once we clear the area," Aidan said, "you get to Tara. Take her back to your place. Me and the boys can help the locals make sure the fire is contained."

  "My neck isn't itching any longer," Price said.

  "Yeah, he's gone." Aidan paced Price now. "So? Is this the Saturday sniper?"

  "I'd bet on it," Price said. "I saw Miller's military file. While he wasn't a sniper, he wasn't a shit shot, either. He could easily have taken one of us out."

  "Or it could be Miller playing with Tara and us," Aidan suggested.

  "Yeah, but it doesn't feel like that." Price looked over at Tara's oldest brother and saw a darkness on the man's face that probably mirrored Price's own expression. "It feels like Saturday. Almost gleeful in a mean and nasty way. I'm getting Miller isn't the gleeful type."

  "I'd say you're right," Aidan said.

  Price raised a fist and then signaled Aidan to go to the left as he went to the right. As they approached a man-made hide of tree limbs and branches, Price heard and saw nothing.

  "He's gone all right." Price approached the hide cautiously just in case the fucker had set a trap, but there was nothing. "The coward shot and ran."

  "Not Miller for sure." Aidan pointed to a cigarette butt on the ground with the toe of his boot without moving it. "Miller knows to police his trash and ordnance." Aidan's boot indicated spent shells.

  "Yeah, this is just like Saturday. We'll have a lot of DNA once we get the fucker."

  "Just hope that's before the pecker-headed douchebag gets lucky."

  Price looked at Aidan. "He'll have to go through us first, right?"

  "Damn straight." Aidan nodded. "Welcome to the family. Don't hurt her."

  Price nodded. "Let's go back to—"

  Shots came from the west.

  "Tara!" Price roared as ice shot down his spine.

  He and Aidan took off running.

  * * * *

  After calling the Sheriff's Department and the Ranger Station again, Tara started quartering the area around her once more.

  Where were Price and her brothers? Were they okay? She hadn't heard any shooting which was a good thing. The fire crackled and smoked to the east of her, but she was safe among the rocks. Mostly the fire was burning the cabin and the shed.

  And all her clothes and personal possessions.

  Reality hit her hard, leaving a hollow sensation in her stomach. Most of her special possessions were packed away in her Missoula storage unit, but her grandmother's quilt had been here and was now gone. As was the collection of Native American pottery she'd collected while she'd been stationed at Nellis AFB.

  At least the fire was mostly contained to the cabin and the immediate area around it. The first thing she'd done after moving in was clear the area farther out from her cabin, all the way to the denser forest on the east and to the new-growth trees she was currently hiding in on the west.

  The ravine behind her house was a natural barrier, and the parking area at the base of the trail was another. So mostly what would burn would be the sparse grass and weeds she hadn't eliminated.

  So who in the hell had blown up her cabin? Had to be the same guy as Saturday. Miller didn't want to blow her up. He wanted to torture and kill her. She shuddered and the darkness threatened to take over.

  No! She shoved back at the nightmares. She needed to stay the fuck alert.

  Focusing on the here, the now, she listened hard. No shots. The forest was quiet, even the birds had gone silent. A gusting wind surged through the pines and made a rustling sound. Her pulse pounded in her ears. Adrenaline was both a blessing and a curse. Blessing because she didn't feel any pain and was ready to kill. Curse because the sound of the blood rushing through her veins to her head was too loud.

  Taking slow breaths, she lessened the pounding a bit.

  A rustling to the west in the denser part of the woods had her going on alert.

  She took slow, calm breaths and braced her gun on an upraised knee. Sighting down the barrel, she watched and waited. Whoever was approaching wouldn't see her. She was low to the ground and her clothing was a perfect blend with the trees and the rocks. She had the advantage and could take her time to make sure she didn't shoot one of her men.

  Something brushed up against a tree or a shrub. Definitely not Price or her brothers. They'd be like ghosts. She moved her aim a bit to the right and lowered it. She wanted to wound, not kill.

  Given what had happened over the last few days, none of the local cops would even blink if she had to deploy her weapon.

  There. Movement. Tara sighted, aimed for where she estimated the legs would be. He, or she, was coming closer. She lightly touched the trigger and waited. More movement. Closer.

  Harsh breaths. Male breaths.

  Close enough. She took in one slow breath and when she blew it out, she took her shot. Heard a curse and the sounds of the man running away. She took another shot. Another curse.

  "Tara!" Price's roar echoed off the rocks.

  "I'm fine," she yelled back. "He's heading west into the denser part of the forest. I think I hit him."

  But hadn't put him out of commission, dammit.

  "I'm coming to your position. Don't shoot me," he shouted.

  "Okay." Tara pushed to her feet and groaned. Getting up was awkward and she pulled her side. She was also stiff from sitting on the cold, hard ground. No way she could give chase. Dammit.

  All she wanted was a hot shower, a diet soda, and maybe a nap. Price's bed was soft, but the pillows would be hard. She'd been looking forward to her feather pillows and her grammy's quilt making his bed more their bed. Her breath hitched at the loss.

  "Tara!"

  She looked toward the east and found Price making his way to her in a ground-eating jog even over the rough terrain. Wiping tears off her face with the back of her free hand, she moved toward him.

  When Price reached her, he took her gun from her hand, flicked the safety on and tucked it in her holster. "You hurt? Did he shoot you?" He looked her up and down.

  "No, both shots were mine." She sniffled. "Scum-sucking coward." She sniffed, tears now streaming down her face. "He blew up my grammy's quilt. My soft pillows." She moved into Price and buried her face against his chest.

  "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." He cuddled her against him. "Grammy's quilt?"

  "Our maternal grandmother made each of us a handmade quilt for our homes," Aidan said as he materialized by their side. "Sorry, Tara." Her brother stroked a hand down her back. "I'll share mine with you, okay?"

  "Thanks," she sniffled, "but it won't be the same." She raised her head from Price's chest and looked at Aidan and then around. "Where's Calum and Flynn?"

  "They're tracking the fucker," he said. "I came here to make sure you were okay. Plus, the firefighting crew is here. I thought I'd help them stamp out what little is burning. You cleared your area good, sisttsí."

  "Thanks. And I'm fine." She wiped her face on the back of her sleeve and attempted a smile. "Guess I get to go shopping for more stuff than soft feather pillows now, huh?" She rested her head against Price again and let him support her weight. Yeah, she could stand on her own, but she didn't have to. She had Price. "Think the gals will want to go shopping with me?"

  "Yeah, they will." Price tipped her chin up and winced. "Oh, sweetheart, come here." He kissed her forehead before guiding her head back to his chest and surrounded her with his strength and warmth. "Go ahead, firefly, let go. I've got you."

  "The bastard got away," Calum's voice came from behind her.

  "Hey, is Tee okay?" Flynn asked.

  "She will be." Price's voice was firm, grim. "I'll see to it."

  "Price?" she mumbled into his chest.

  "Yes, sweetheart?" He nuzzled the top of her head.

  "Take me home, please."

  "You got it." He tipped up her face. "Tomorrow, we'll deal with cl
othes and personal shit, okay?"

  "Okay." She looked at Aidan. "Will you guys take care of the authorities and all the questions? I just can't right now. Dan knows where to find me when he's ready."

  "Yes, sisttsí. Go home with your man. We'll handle it all from this end," Aidan assured. "Plus you can't tell them any more than we can. They can all wait."

  Tara nodded and let Price lead her away. As she left the burning cabin behind, she thanked the gods that her píítaa and her brothers were safe. That she was safe.

  The bad guy hadn't harmed those she loved today. But what about tomorrow?

  She sighed and Price rubbed her back. Snuggling into his hold, she decided to worry about the rest of it later when she wasn't so tired and hurting. Until then, she'd let Price care for her. It was nice to be cared for—by him. Only him.

  Chapter 11

  Wednesday afternoon, June 3d

  After a long day of shopping to buy new clothes and replenish her beauty products—plus securing the all-important softer pillows—Tara was tired, a little sore, and starving. Her lunchtime burger seemed a long time ago. So it was a good thing that she and her shopping buddies—Keely, DJ, and Fee—were headed for a pre-opening, taste-testing of the menu at Carmela's, the new diner owned by Fee's clinic nurse's mother. Price and the other women's men would be there later; she and the gals were going early to help Pia and her mother Carmela and Carmela's boyfriend Manny set things up.

  Keely pulled off the highway into the diner's newly paved parking lot. Several vehicles were already parked in front, but there was one vehicle Tara didn't recognize.

  "Keely, drive behind the Dodge truck. It doesn't belong to SSI, and as far as I know, SSI people were the only folks invited to the taste-testing, right?" She glanced at Fee.

  "Right," Fee said.

  As Keely slowly drove past the vehicle, Fee gasped. "Shit."

  "What?" Tara looked at her friend, who had the weirdest expression on her face. "I can't tell if that shit is good or bad, because you look all smirky and satisfied, but sound pissed. Whose truck is it?"

  "I recognized the plates. It belongs to Levi Gray Wolf," Fee said.

  "Who's Levi Gray Wolf?" Tara asked.

  "He is, no, was the sheriff in the area where I lived before coming to Idaho," Fee said. "Trey told me Levi had given notice so he could come and work for SSI. He was only waiting until the county he served figured out who'd take over the rest of his term as sheriff. He wasn't expected this early."

  "I've met him. He's sexy," DJ said.

  "He can't be sexier than Price," Tara said. Of course, she was a tad bit prejudiced, but Price, with his long, lean, muscular body clad in a pair of jeans hugging his tight bite-able ass and a t-shirt spanning his chest, could grace the cover of magazines and women would swoon.

  "I can't speak to his sexiness, since I've never met him. But I can confirm he's early. Ren wasn't expecting him until later in June," Keely said. "Ren is thrilled to get Levi. He's a former Army Ranger with a Spec Ops background and has medals out the wazoo."

  After they parked behind the building, the women exited the Hummer. Keely set the security system which would render the computerized ignition system dead-as-a-doornail until a proper override code was entered.

  They entered the diner through the back entrance and into the kitchen. The first words Tara heard were—"If you like Levi so much, mamá, you marry him."

  "I need to see this man," Tara said.

  "Just wait. Levi's movie-star handsome and built." DJ fanned her face. "And don't tell Ace I said that. I might be married and pregnant, but I ain't dead."

  Fee gave DJ a fist bump.

  "Dahlia Jane Poe-Walsh, you hussy." Keely winked at Tara. "No matter what Levi looks like, no one's sexier than my big guy."

  DJ stuck her tongue out at her sister-in-law. Keely flipped her the bird.

  Snickering at the women's antics, Tara moved through the warm kitchen with its fresh paint, spick-and-span tile flooring covered in brand new rubber safety mats, and the shiny appliances of a professional kitchen. Whatever was cooking smelled fantastic and her mouth watered. She hoped Carmela had some appetizers ready to sample since hunger pangs were even now making themselves known. The actual taste-testing wasn't for another hour or so.

  As she led the way into the main dining area, the atmosphere dove into the subarctic temps, and Tara's hope for food tanked right along with it.

  Carmela glared at her daughter while Manny sat at the lunch counter and sipped his coffee. His attractive, tanned face wore an expression of resignation at the standoff between mother and daughter. Tara guessed this wasn't the first time he'd seen or heard dissension between the two.

  A tall, Native American man braced his hip against the end of the counter. Yep, DJ was correct—Levi Gray Wolf was drop-dead gorgeous, one hundred percent alpha male, and sexy as hell.

  Like Price, Levi displayed the calm demeanor of a large cat who had his prey in sight and wasn't letting it get away. She had the impression Levi would wait as long as he needed before he claimed his prize, just as Price had. And once Levi did, Pia would have no chance of escape.

  "Damn, now that's a man," Tara muttered.

  "Yep," DJ murmured. "I just had a hot flash, looking at him. Ace looks at me like that a lot." She sighed. "And when he does, I usually get at least three orgasms out of it."

  Price looked at her in a similar way, but had absolutely refused to go against Fee's no-sex-until-Tara's-wound-heals order. Good thing Tara healed fast. She was really curious how the chemistry between them would translate once they moved on to the actual sex act. She shivered as she recalled his goodbye kiss this morning before he'd left to put the new SSI recruits through a five-mile run. It had left her a bit dazed and Fee, who'd witnessed the kiss, had to tug on her sleeve twice to get her attention.

  "We're here!" Keely announced, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "We didn't quite buy out the stores, but we managed to get Tara outfitted." The little blonde strode straight to Levi and held out her hand. "Hi, you must be Levi Gray Wolf. I'm Ren's wife, Keely. Welcome to Idaho and SSI. We weren't expecting you this soon."

  That was Keely, blunt and straight to the heart of the matter as to why he was early.

  Levi straightened and smiled down, way down, since Keely was very petite. Levi was tall enough that he'd look down on Tara's own six feet.

  "Glad to meet you, Keely." He took the hand Keely had offered and gave it a gentle shake. "I called Ren when I hit Grangeville, and he told me about Carmela's taste-testing. I've missed her and her food ever since the ladies left Columbus."

  "See?" Carmela poked her daughter on the arm. "I did not call and tell Levi to come here today. Ren did."

  "Maybe not, mamá." Pia avoided her mother's eyes. "But you told Levi something since he wasn't expected this soon."

  "Pia—" Levi's voice held what Tara would classify as a "do not mess with me" tone. "I missed you—"

  His next words were drowned out by the sound of something striking the front windows, startling all of them. Looking toward the window, Tara saw the starburst pattern from a bullet hitting bulletproof glass.

  "Get down," Tara shouted, but could've saved her breath since everyone was already crouched low and moving away from the windows toward the kitchen area. Levi and Manny hung back behind the counter with guns in their hands.

  Heart racing, Tara joined them after pulling her holdout gun from her ankle holster. Not that the smaller weapon would do much good unless the shooter made it inside the diner, but she felt better having it in hand. DJ, armed with a much larger gun, joined her and the two men.

  Several more shots rang out in quick succession. Bulletproof glass was a misnomer—nothing was bulletproof for long.

  "Carmela, engage the frick-fracking security measures then you, Fee, and Pia need to go to the safe room," Keely said as she hovered at the end of the counter.

  Several more shots sounded as ext
erior metal shutters clanged and clanked as they dropped down to cover the windows. A fusillade of bullets pinged off the metal. The front-and back-door locks engaged with loud, solid thuds. Tara knew the doors were made of two inches of titanium steel similar to what naval ships used in their hulls. The enemy would need a tank to get through the doors.

  Even with all the security precautions and upgrades, enough shots at the cement block walls with high velocity bullets could do some damage and create a weakness for whoever was shooting at them to exploit.

  However, the shooter—make that shooters because bullets now hit different sides of the diner simultaneously—wouldn't have time to exploit anything. When Carmela had engaged the system, an automatic alert went out to Sanctuary. Price and the others would already be on their way. Ren, as Carmela's business backer, was high on security, especially in a place his wife and child and their friends and their friends' children would frequent.

  Four cell phones rang, practically at the same time.

  Tara's nerves were on a razor-sharp edge from being under fire for the second time in less than a week, so she jerked and her breathing stuttered as the phones buzzed and vibrated. This was not the time for a damn flashback. She took several steadying breaths as one phone kept uttering an insistent tone.

  Levi gave her a curious look, then his expression went blank. In a deep, calm voice, he said, "Check your phone."

  "That's not my ring tone." She was happy her voice wasn't as stuttering as her heart rate.

  "It's coming from your pocket," he replied, then shifted his gaze until he found Pia's location.

  Glad his sharp eyes were no longer on her, Tara pulled her cell from her back pocket and looked at it. It was Price; he must've programmed a special ring tone in her phone and had neglected to mention it. She answered, "Shooters outside. We're locked down. We're good."

  "Stay that way," growled Price and he hung up.