Marshal Law

by Kris Norris

  “Something’s off.”

  Jude nudged Ethan’s arm as McKenna paused at the doorway, checking her pistols before looking over at them. She gave them a tip of her hat, not a bloody ounce of fear clouding her eyes or tensing her shoulders as she raised her chin, holding up two fingers as she nodded toward the back of the tavern. Jude didn’t speak, just made for the stairs leading to the brothel above. Ethan followed the man, trusting his partner’s instincts. Jude took the steps two at a time, heading toward the rear of the building. Laughter and groans echoed through the doors, the distinct sound of beds squeaking and headboards banging against the walls grating on Ethan’s nerves. He didn’t want to think about sex. Not now. Not when the first woman to turn his head—to make him consider anything beyond a simple release—was heading into the street to face a gang of armed men. Alone.

  Jude slammed open the last door, ignoring the couple undulating on the bed, their naked flesh glowing in the moonlight. “Excuse us.”

  The woman yelled obscenities at them, but Jude just walked to the window, levering it open before leaning his head out.

  He scanned both areas, nodding back at Ethan. “Looks clear enough. I gage about twelve feet.”

  “After you, partner.”

  He nodded, lifting his feet over the sill, pausing just long enough to balance then jumping off, landing in a swirl of dust. Ethan went next, rolling to absorb the impact then quickly gaining his feet, darting over to the side of the building. Dark shadows lined the walls, the roofline blocking out the yellow glow of the moon. The echo of voices drifted along the breeze, one gruff gravely tone calling McKenna out.

  Jude shuffled to the edge of the saloon, inching his head around the corner. “Shit. There’s more than we thought. I count ten, and god knows if the bastards have others beyond those buildings across the street.

  “We’ve faced worse.”

  “But not with someone else’s life in our hands.” He fisted the hand resting against the wooden slats. “We never should have let her talk us into this.”

  “She was right. If we’d left with her, that gang would have started shootin’, and there’s no way we could have kept her safe.”

  “We have other skills.”

  “And shifting in the middle of Tombstone, Arizona, while a dozen outlaws and a saloon full of people watch us isn’t our best course of action. Trust me. We’ll get her out of this. And figure out why the hell our wolves are so damn drawn to her.”

  Jude glanced at him. “You know why, Ethan.”

  “Don’t. Don’t start with all that fated mates crap. You know I don’t believe in it. There’s no magical force choosin’ some woman to complete us. It’s just simple attraction.”

  “There’s nothing simple when it comes to women and us. We’ve known that from the start. The fact we have the compulsion to share…”

  “Makes sense on more levels than one.”

  “Then why haven’t we settled down? We’ve bedded women before. But none of them have tempted us like this.”

  “Like what? All I said was that she made me antsy. Probably has something to do with the fact she’s good with a gun. Which is why we’re here…to stop her from getting her fool head shot off.” He pushed past Jude, surveying the dusty street. “Fuck. She just walked onto the porch, and she’s actually challenging those boys. Both of them. That girl has more pride than sense.” He scanned the remaining area. “There’s three on the other side that I can see. You want them or the men on this side?”

  “I’ll take those good old boys across the street. You just keep our girl safe.”

  Ethan glared at Jude as the man started stripping. “She’s not our girl. But I’ll keep her safe, just the same. And for god’s sake stay out of sight until you’re dressed in clothes again or we’ll have a damn wolf hunt on our hands, as well.”

  “This isn’t my first shift.” He tossed the last of his clothes in the dirt beside the wall. “But I’ll do whatever has to be done to ensure those bastards don’t lay a finger on her.”

  “Jude… Shit!”

  Ethan huffed out his breath as Jude dove toward the road, his body seamlessly transforming from man to beast in midair. Gray fur gleamed in the rising moonlight as it cascaded down his back, the thick coat fluttering in the light breeze. He landed paws first, two eddies of dust whirling up as he raced across the street, disappearing into the shadows on the other side. Ethan gave the man a few seconds to get clear then concentrated on the gathering of men again. Though it’d only been a couple of minutes, he had a bad feeling McKenna was already out of time. His gaze centered on her as she stood facing the brothers in the middle of the street, one hand resting on her gun as she blatantly taunted them.

  “Fuck, sweetheart. We said to stall them, not mock them. You’re going to get yourself killed…or worse.”

  The images that flickered through his head tightened the raw feeling coiling in his gut. He should be worried about her getting shot, not that some cowboy might touch her. Yet the thought that Bret or Frank would mar even an inch of her skin increased the burning feeling beneath his skin. His wolf growled, once again pushing for control. He held the animal back, making his way through the dark as he closed in on the first outlaw hiding next to a post. The man’s attention lingered on the crowd, a rifle locked into the crook of one shoulder.

  Ethan moved in behind him, tapping his arm. The guy turned, eyes wide, mouth gaped open. Ethan smiled, knocking him out with a firm punch to the man’s jaw. His head cracked back, hitting the post before he crumpled onto the wooden slats beneath him. Ethan leaned over the guy, picking up his weapon before heading for the next. Shit, it was almost too easy the way they’d spaced themselves out, leaving each man vulnerable. He took the next out with the stock of the rifle, watching him collapse behind a water barrel. He tossed the guy’s gun away, ensuring he was well hidden when McKenna’s voice changed.

  Ethan glanced up, cursing as she took several steps back, firming her stance as she seemed to ready herself to fire. He gained his feet, eyeing two more men off to his left as he closed in on the brothers, his only concern keeping McKenna safe. She held steady, gaze completely focused on Frank as the man separated from his brother, each step echoed by the jingle of his spurs. He stopped several yards back, hand caressing his pistol. Ethan swung the rifle across his back, palming twin Colts when a low growl sounded on the other side of the street.

  The brothers froze, gazes searching the darkness just as Jude prowled forward, eyes glowing red in the moonlight as half his body emerged from the shadows. His lips pulled back, exposing a set of large canines as another snarl echoed through the air.

  Ethan muttered under his breath. He’d distinctly told the man to stay hidden.

  Bret glanced at his brother. “What the hell? Is that a fucking wolf?”

  McKenna barely gave the creature a second glance, maintaining her attention on the men. Ethan smiled as pride swelled in his chest. Their girl had excellent instincts, he’d grant her that much, even if she needed a few lessons in common sense.

  Frank snorted. “Not for long.”

  McKenna gasped, understanding shaping her features as she spared the animal a quick look. “No!”

  She reacted, drawing her pistol as Frank drew his, clipping the man in the shoulder before he got off a shot. She fired a second time, grazing the bullet across Bret’s cheek as he dove sideways, rolling back behind a wagon wheel. The report of the gun bounced off the buildings, the hollow sound sending the other men into action. Ethan heard McKenna sound off more rounds as he fired at the outlaws positioned behind her, downing two before one managed a shot. Jude charged the gunman, nothing but a blur of gray across the dusty road. McKenna took a couple of staggering steps sideways, falling to one knee as chunks of dirt exploded into the air where a bullet impacted the ground a few feet beside her. Ethan aimed at the man when the post beside him splintered, the telltale pop of gunfire filling the air. He heard McKenna return fire as he glanced toward the oppo
site side of the street, swearing when two men appeared on one of the adjacent rooflines. More bullets hit close by him, stirring up more dust. He fired a few shots, sending the men back behind the cover of the roofline before he turned to face Bret, but the man was already across the street, his brother supported on one side.

  “Damn it.” Ethan made his way over to McKenna, bending low when she pushed to her feet.

  Her lips were pinched tight as she clenched her jaw, motioning for him to move. He snagged her around the waist, ignoring her muted groan as he kept the outlaws trapped on the roof, using up the last few rounds in his revolvers. He shuffled backwards, leading them into the darkness, stopping with her body hidden behind a large trough. Ethan dumped the empty cartridges onto the ground, shuffling to quickly load in another set when more bullets pelted the posts next to them.

  McKenna elbowed him in the ribs. “We can’t stay here. There’re still those three men inside the saloon. They didn’t leave with Bret and Frank. Once the shootin’ dies down enough, they’ll be on top of us.”

  “Our options are limited until we can get to our horses.” Ethan tsked her. “Not exactly what we meant by stalling them. You need to work on your negotiation skills.”

  “Men like Bret and Frank don’t understand words. Bullets make more sense.”

  “Perhaps. But they don’t bounce off near as easily. You okay?”

  “I’m fine. But I’ll be better once we get the hell out of here.”

  “Hey, Buchanan. You gonna hide all night, or are you gonna get back out here and face me?”

  McKenna swore under her breath, the echo of Bret’s voice still lingering on the breeze, before taking a step forward until Ethan pulled her against his chest again, the close contact making his pulse race more than the gunfight.

  He lowered his mouth to her ear, caressing the soft shell. “Don’t be foolish. It’s an ambush.”

  “I know. But it’s like you said. We don’t have many options, and I don’t need you boys bleeding all over Tombstone on my account.”

  “We can handle ourselves.” He focused on the street, but only dirt and dried leaves tumbled along the road. “Bret Wilson. This is Marshal Ethan McClaren. Ms. Buchanan is now in my care. You want her? You’ll have to go through me.”

  Gravely laughter drifted along the breeze. “Marshal? Well, I’ll be damned. Haven’t had one of those in these parts for a while. You stayin’ or just passin’ through?”

  “Does it matter? You’re a wanted man, Bret. Your brother, too. I suggest you turn yourselves in. I’d hate to have to kill you boys without a fair trial.”

  McKenna inhaled at his words, giving him a stern look over her shoulder. “You’re crazy if you think they’ll surrender.”

  “Never hurts to ask, sweetheart.”

  She snorted, leaning some of her weight against him, making his breath rasp out around clenched teeth. Damn, but she affected him more than any woman had a right to. And in a way that was completely unnerving.

  More laughter echoed through the town as Bret strutted onto the edge of the dirt road. “I seem to recall a couple of men sitting in the tavern that looked out of place. Reckon one of them was you. Where’s your partner?”

  A low growl rumbled in the shadows followed by the soft pad of footsteps. Ethan glanced toward the doors to the saloon, catching a blur of movement dart past the glare of the oil lamps lighting up the tavern. He smiled. Though Jude was more than impulsive at times, the man always had a plan. And if Ethan’s hunch was right, his partner was about to save their sorry hides.

  He leaned against McKenna again, his voice low. “Get ready.”

  “For what?”

  “You’ll see.” He straightened, addressing Bret. “Marshal Davenport’s around. Never know where he’s going to show up.”

  “Matters not, Marshal. As I see it, you’re outnumbered. I’ve still got six men out here and more inside that saloon. One wave of my hand and you’ll be in the midst of another gunfight. Only this time, you won’t surprise us.”

  Ethan sighed. “I was afraid you might see it that way. And if I wasn’t more concerned about Ms. Buchanan’s safety than I am with bringin’ you two boys to justice, I’d take you up on that. But as it is, we’ll have to save our proper introductions for another day.”

  “Like hell we will. The only way we’re meeting is with you dead at my feet. That bitch, too.”

  He raised his revolver when the thunder of hooves and gunfire drowned out the chirping of crickets and raucous laughter from within the saloon. A cloud of dust tumbled down the road, the whinny of horses blending in with the pounding sound of their feet. A man appeared out of nowhere, chest bare, breeches half open as he reined in his horse, shooting across the street before motioning to them.

  “Go. Now.”

  He half carried McKenna the few feet to Jude’s side, tossing her up to the man as Jude grabbed her wrist, yanking her onto his lap. She flung her arms around his neck in what looked like an effort to catch her balance as the man kicked his mount, sending it tearing down the street. Ethan jumped onto his horse, laying down another round of cover fire before following Jude toward the open hills, using the choking dust as cover. Gunfire rang out behind them, but they’d already cleared the street, a strip of moonlight guiding them forward. He glanced back, wondering if Bret and his men would emerge from the blinding swirl of dirt, but only shadows chased them along the trail. He forced himself to relax slightly, spitting out clumps of mud caked on his lips and tongue as they cantered across the plain, leaving Tombstone behind them.

  Ethan ran a weary hand through his hair. That hadn’t gone anything like he’d envisioned. Bret Wilson wasn’t an average outlaw. For some unknown reason, the man and his brother had a way of charming others to do their bidding. And Ethan knew the older brother wouldn’t rest until he’d made McKenna pay for shooting Frank. Until he’d made them all pay.

  Chapter Three

  “Easy, darlin’.” Jude Davenport braced McKenna between his arms as his mount raced across the hard ground, the sound of its hooves dulled by the oppressive darkness.

  McKenna huffed, shoving against him. “I’m not your darlin’, and there’s nothing easy about riding a horse sidesaddle at a full canter. Especially without holding the reins.”

  She clamped her fingers around his arms, her hands hot against his cool skin as she managed to wedge her leg over the saddle, facing him. He gave her a raise of his brow, allowing a playful smile to lift half his mouth. She punched him in the shoulder then wrapped her arms around his torso, using his body to help shuffle across his thigh, finally settling in behind him, her small hands cupped across his ribs.

  Jude ignored the way her touch, however innocent, made his wolf howl inside his head, the animal pacing within him, clawing for a way to break free. He hadn’t planned on confronting the group in his alternate form, knowing Ethan was right. If they weren’t careful, McKenna wouldn’t be the only one with her picture hanging in the Marshal’s office. And all their noble deeds wouldn’t count for anything if the good folks of Tombstone learned they were shifters. But just when he’d planned on backtracking, those damn brothers had taunted her with sexual innuendo and his wolf had reacted. Instinctively. And he’d stalked into the dusty road, prepared to eliminate any threat.

  McKenna cursed as a shift in the horse’s motion rocked her harder against him, her chest crushing into his back as she increased her hold.

  He chuckled. “You could have just asked for the reins. I would have given them to you.”

  A muted groan rumbled through her before she seemed to draw herself up slightly. “Then you’re a fool. I told you I’d try to escape. Handing me the reins would make that pretty damn easy.”

  “You’d have to knock me off my horse, first, and that hasn’t happened since I was five.”

  She smiled against his back, the soft play of her lips against his skin making his breath stall. She raised her head, placing her mouth next to his ear. “Any particular
reason you didn’t grab my horse?”

  He twisted enough she’d be able to hear him above the thundering beat of the horses and the whistle of the wind. “There were a dozen horses tied up in front of that saloon. How was I to know which one was yours? Besides, I didn’t have time to be picky. Half those geldings were spooked by the gunfire. Damn near got kicked just grabbing Ethan’s and mine.”

  “You do realize all of my belongings were on that horse.”

  He sighed. “Sorry. We can try and go back later, but…”

  “But by then the good folks of Tombstone will have inherited my guns and effects, not to mention my horse.” She sighed. “Doesn’t matter. Reckon I won’t need them, anyway.”

  He frowned. He’d meant what he’d said to Ethan. He wouldn’t willingly put her in harm’s way. No matter the personal cost. “You’ll need all of it and more if I have any say.”

  Her brow furrowed against his flesh, the movement tickling her eyelashes across his neck. “That doesn’t sound very Marshal-like. And why the hell aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

  “I’m not always a marshal, and my shirt snagged on another saddle. Was simply easier to remove it than fuss with untangling it. I’ve got a spare in the saddlebags. I’ll put it on once we’ve put enough distance between us and the Wilson brothers.”

  “Then I suggest we don’t stop until we reach New Mexico.”

  He smiled. He liked her sense of humor. “That might be a bit far, but I like the way you think.”

  She snorted, the sound followed by a low moan. One of her hands released his ribs as she seemed to fiddle with her clothes for a few minutes before finally clutching him again. He glanced at her over his shoulder, but she’d tucked her head against his back, her breath a steady brush of warm air across his skin. He inhaled, trying to pick up any scent he should be concerned with. Layers of horse and dirt hung heavy in the air, the heady aromas dimmed by the sweet womanly essence that was all McKenna. It wove through his senses, blocking out the mix of sulfur and whiskey he’d smelled in the bar. A hint of kerosene blended with her warm fragrance, but it was too weak to pinpoint.