by Amy Braun
“And do what? We know what Dro is, but what’s the endgame? Why do demons want to kill her and angels want to protect her? It can’t simply be because of what she is. The angels never cared enough to stop any demons from chasing us.”
“Your guess is as good as mine, Constance. As I said, it’s all the more reason for us to be wary. There is just as much lore on angels as there is on demons, so later today we can–”
Something pounded on the front door. I tensed, my hand going down to my side again.
Max looked at his father. “Were you expecting anyone, Dad?”
“No,” Manny replied. “There aren’t any appointments for today. It could be a walk-in.”
Or it could be something else, I thought.
The pounding started up again. Whoever was out there seemed to be impatient. Manny slipped off the stool and headed for the door.
“Go into the basement,” he said. “I’ll see who it is.”
“Dad,” Max said hesitantly.
“It’s okay, Max. Stay by the basement door. Keep the girls out of sight.”
Max frowned, but got off the barstool and hurried with us into the hallway to the basement under the stairs. We opened the door, slipped down the stairs and closed the door as Manny opened the front entrance.
We didn’t completely hide like Manny had asked. I crouched next to the basement door with Max, keeping my hand low on my hip. Dro was a couple steps beneath me, watching with big, scared eyes. I couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, but the new man sounded rough. Probably big, given the depth of his voice. Max stared at the door his father had walked through with a pinched expression.
“Something’s wrong,” he muttered. His voice sounded tense, like he was in deep concentration. He must have been trying to see into the future. I pressed myself to the door and eased it open enough to see who Manny was talking to.
The guy looked like a shaved bear. He was huge, at least six foot three, a solid two hundred fifty pounds of muscle. He wore a long black duster that had seen better days, black camouflage pants, and a dark shirt. His head was buzzed, dark stubble forming on the top of it and around his chin. From where I was hiding, his eyes looked black.
Instinct kicked in. This man was bad news. He was a criminal, maybe even a murderer. He was standing in the hallway near the front table, picking things up then putting them back down, just for something to do. I’d been around a lot of men like this. They thought that when they entered a room, they owned everyone inside it.
The problem is sometimes they’re right.
“I already told you,” Manny said. “I don’t know who those young women are. I don’t know where you’re getting your information from–”
“Oh, I got sources you wouldn’t believe, old man,” the guy said in his deep, Texas drawl. “I know those sneaky little bitches are here. Just like I know you got a kid somewhere here. Do yourself a favor and tell me where they are, and he won’t get hurt.”
Manny clenched his fists. “If you try to threaten my son–”
“I don’t make threats, geezer. I make promises. Now tell me what the fuck I want to know.”
The man was getting restless. He wouldn’t hesitate to hurt Manny to get what he wanted. The son of a bitch would probably enjoy it.
But I wasn’t going to let that happen.
The man started to walk forward, shouldering past Manny to get a better look around the house. While Manny’s voice started getting more aggressive, I leaned back down and looked at Max and Dro. They were so tense I thought they might snap.
“It’s one guy, but we have to stay out of sight,” I said quietly, looking at my sister. “He knows our faces, and he knows about you, Max.”
“I’m not leaving my dad,” he said firmly.
“Neither am I,” I whispered back. “But we have to be smart about this. Find a way to take him by surprise.”
Max clenched his jaw, but nodded sternly. I looked back through the crack in the door and saw the man now had his back to me. Manny’s eyes shifted in my direction. He betrayed nothing as the big man pressed on, steadily moving to the front door and holding it open.
“Stay behind me,” I whispered.
I turned and took out my hatchet. I eased the door open quietly, and snuck toward the man’s back. He made no motion that he sensed me coming.
“This is the last time I’m going to tell you,” Manny said tightly by the door. “I don’t know who they are and if I had seen them, I would have called the police.”
The man lolled his head. “Well, this is gonna be the last time I tell you to quit with the fucking lies.”
His hand went into his coat and he brought out a huge Magnum revolver and he pointed it directly at Manny’s chest.
I froze for half a second, because I honestly didn’t know if he intended to intimidate Manny, or if he meant to kill him. When the gun didn’t go off, I sprung.
I was five foot eight and significantly smaller than he was, so I got his attention by grabbing the back collar of his jacket, jerking his head down and placing the blade of my hatchet under his Adam’s apple.
“Make a move and you die,” I said icily.
The man chuckled. “They said you were a lively one. Full of surprises.”
“Drop the gun,” I said.
“No.”
“Do it or I’ll kill you.”
“Not before I shoot the old timer. Sure you wanna risk it, chica?”
I didn’t. My mind raced between killing him outright or wounding him and getting answers.
I could almost see the man smiling. “Too long. I’m a busy guy.”
The man raised the gun half an inch before I could stop him, and squeezed the trigger.
The sound of the gunshot echoed through the house like thunder. My eyes fixed on Manny, who was no longer standing. I saw him stumble and collapse onto the rug by the door. Dro screamed behind me, but her cry wasn’t half as loud as Max’s when he saw his father fall.
“Dad!”
I snapped out of my trance a second too late. The big man had started moving, his elbow slamming into my face so hard I almost blacked out. I pitched backward and he whirled on me, swinging out with his fist. I ducked the blow and slashed with my hatchet, but he stepped away before I could cut him.
He was quicker than he should have been for a man his size. Definitely an experienced fighter. His punches were heavy and meant for instant knockouts. I leaned back from a hit that would have caught me in the cheek, kicking at his ribs. He let me kick him, then held my foot to his side and yanked me close.
I had to hop on one foot so I wouldn’t drop, swinging the hatchet again. He caught my wrist, crushing the bones inside it. He slammed his forehead into my face once, then again, making me see stars. He dropped my foot and punched me in the kidneys. I gasped in pain, but backed away before he could hit me again. I reached inside my jacket for another knife, only to have him kick me in the stomach. I doubled over from the powerful hit that sent me into the living room, my back slamming against the hardwood floor.
He was stalking inside when I heard an outraged scream. I turned my head, seeing Max throw himself at the big man. My heart stalled with panic. Max wasn’t a fighter. He didn’t have a lot of muscle on him. He would have been better off punching a brick wall. At least a brick wall didn’t hit back.
The man batted Max’s arms away, then grabbed a fistful of his shirt and slammed his fist into Max’s face with terrifying speed. I put my hatchet and knife back into their sheathes, pushed myself up, and raced for the desk. I reached under it and grabbed Manny’s shotgun. When I turned again, Max was motionless on the floor, and the man was out of the room.
Dro was screaming and I forced myself to move faster, gripping the shotgun tightly. I raced for the hallway, skidding to a stop when the man entered the living room again. With my sister.
The big man had his fist twisted in Dro’s loosened braid, holding her in front of him and pressing the barrel of his gun to
her chin. My sister’s hands were bloody. She’d been trying to save Manny when the man had grabbed her. He looked positively thrilled.
“Now, now, chica, don’t do anything stupid. Your sister has a pretty face, and I don’t think you want to see it blasted onto the other side of the wall.”
Son of a bitch. Son of a fucking bitch.
Anger like nothing I’d felt in a long time burned in my heart. My lips peeled back in a snarl. I imagine I looked like a wild woman, my face bruised and bloody, my hair a tangled storm that matched the fury in my eyes.
But I couldn’t do anything without him hurting Dro. And the asshole knew it, because he fucking smiled at me. The nasty smile of a man who dared me to try something. A man looking for a reason to hurt my sister and make me suffer.
He proved it when he teased the gun barrel along Dro’s jaw. She winced, as if the barrel of the gun was still hot, but didn’t whimper. She wouldn’t be able to reach the knives that I insisted she keep in her boots without getting the man’s attention, and her powers didn’t work on command. We were trapped.
“Besides,” the man purred, leaning in close to Dro. He sniffed her hair and made her cringe. “As pretty as she is, she’s not the one I’m here for.” His pitch black eyes turned to mine. “So drop the fucking gun, or she loses her face.”
I had no choice. Not with Dro as a human shield, Max unconscious, and Manny dying. My breath caught in my throat. Oh God, Manny…
I slowly lowered the shotgun, keeping my eyes on him as I placed it on the floor.
“Good,” he said. “My boss tells me you carry an arsenal with you, so lay it all out next to the gun. And I mean all of it. If I find out you’re packing some hidden knife or some shit like that,” he twisted the gun barrel under Dro’s chin, “She’s gonna pay the price.”
“Fine,” I said, resigned, “but if it’s me you want, then let the rest of them go.”
The man frowned. Then he spun the revolver in his hand and hit Dro across the cheek with it. She yelped in pain as a nasty wound opened along her face. I started to run forward, but he spun the revolver again and pressed it into her stomach.
“Did you hear me say you could talk? Or did you hear me tell you to put all your fucking weapons on the floor?”
I clenched my fists, but did as he asked. Every second we stood here was another second off Manny’s life. As I laid all my knives and my hatchet on the floor and desperately tried to control my anger against the man buzzing in Dro’s ear, I could see Max starting to wake up. He groaned in pain. I couldn’t see Manny. Something in my chest twist painfully.
Now that I had given up all my weapons, I slowly rose back to my full height. The man whistled.
“She learns quickly,” he said. “Now, Snow White here is gonna cuff your hands behind your back. Snow, if you try anything stupid, remember your boyfriend is still alive, and my gun is still full of bullets.”
Dro swallowed nervously, taking the handcuffs when the man put them in her hand. She stepped away from him, watching him point the gun at Max. My sister walked toward me, her head hung low. I turned my back to her so she could place the handcuffs on my wrists.
“Tighter,” said the man. “Tight enough that it hurts. There’s a good girl.”
I made no expression once the cuffs bit into my skin, facing the man as he walked closer to us. He grabbed Dro’s arm and jerked her close.
“Well, now that all the excitement’s over, I can introduce myself.” He grinned. “Name’s Drake Talbot. Ever heard of me?”
Had I heard of Drake Talbot, the famous bounty hunter employed by mobs and gangs to pick up the traitors and strays? The man who had dragged a runaway drug dealer back to his employers by the back of his car? The man who raped an informant’s fourteen year old daughter before his eyes to get information before stabbing them both to death? The man who brought back the tongues of snitches, leaving them to choke to death on their own blood?
I nodded slowly.
“Good,” said Drake. “So this is the plan. We’re gonna turn and walk out of here. You, me, and this pretty piece of leverage here,” he said, giving Dro a rough shake. “We’ll all be nice and close, since you’re not going to do anything stupid, are you Constance?”
I shook my head.
“Smart choice. Now start walking.”
I avoided looking at Max as I walked past him through the doorway, hoping to draw attention away from him. But I did glance at Manny’s body, saw blood soaking his shirt and pooling around his back. He was too pale, his eyes were closed, and he didn’t seem to be breathing. Dro whimpered behind me. Drake brushed against me and kicked open the screen door. He took another step, then stopped.
“Oh, damn it, I almost forgot.”
I turned just as Drake pulled out his gun and shot Max.
Drake was in the way so I couldn’t see exactly where he’d been hit, but Dro’s scream was enough to let me know it was somewhere awful.
“Max!”
Drake pistol whipped Dro again, silencing her. “Relax, bitch,” he said, dragging her toward me. “He’s got some time to bleed out with his daddy. Pretty generous, you ask me.”
I gritted my teeth so hard I thought I would destroy my molars, but I did nothing. I had just cost two innocent people– two friends– their lives. I couldn’t fight, or Dro would die too. My heart wrenched with hatred and grief.
“Okay, ladies, lets go. Mateo isn’t my most patient client.”
Fear turned the blood in my veins to ice. Drake saw it and smiled. He was working for Mateo Rocha. The son of my former employer, the current leader of the Blood Thorns.
The man who wanted to kill me.
Chapter 9
Driving in a truck with Drake was worse than I imagined it would be. We were crammed in the cab, Dro seated between Drake and myself so I couldn’t stop anything he wanted to do to her. The entire uncomfortable drive to El Paso consisted of few bathroom breaks, no food, Drake casually stroking my sister’s hair and thigh, and me thinking about I could kill him from where I was sitting.
My heart ached as my brain replayed Manny and Max’s shooting. I couldn’t even get closure from knowing whether they were alive or not. Manny had been shot in the chest, and Max had been bleeding out from somewhere vital. I’d seen enough gunshot wounds in my life to know bleeding out from one was agonizing, and if you didn’t get help in time, you died.
I turned my head to look at Dro. Her head was down, most of her braid gone, but the falling strands of white hair weren’t doing much to hide the tears streaking her face. Dro kept her crying silent and controlled so Drake wouldn’t notice, but the pain on her face was heart breaking.
It was my fault. I should have known that sooner or later Mateo and the Blood Thorns would catch up to me to get their revenge. It was just like them to send a sadistic fuck like Drake Talbot after me. But it hadn’t stopped me from getting close to Manny and Max. It hadn’t stopped me from caring about my new strange, little family.
We arrived at the Mexican border later that night. The road led to a tollbooth next to the wall. Two tall towers with pacing sharpshooters stood on either side of the booth while an expansive metal fence stretched out for miles beyond them. Fear spiked me as I stared past the windshield into the darkness. Mateo was just miles away now. He was waiting patiently, thinking of ways to hurt me. I’d seen him deliver punishments personally, everything from breaking bones with a hammer to pouring burning oil on someone’s face. Since Drake had taken Dro too, there were endless ways for Mateo to break me. The bastard wouldn’t even have to touch me to make me scream for mercy.
Drake pulled the truck to a stop outside the gates and looked at the border guards, grinning at them.
“Evening officers,” he drawled, showing some kind of badge.
The guard frowned and shone a flashlight into the cab, gaping a little when he saw our bruised and bloody faces. He whirled the flashlight at Drake.
“What the hell is this?” he asked.
“Bounty collection,” Drake answered happily. “The beaner is a wanted fugitive in Mexico and Snow White is her sister. They’re nastier than they look, trust me.”
The guard hesitated, looking into the cab again, then at Drake. “I think you should get out of the truck, sir.”
Drake’s smile dropped. “What the fuck for?”
“We received a report that two battered women would be trying to leave the country in the company of a bounty hunter. Who I assume is you.”
Dro and I looked at each other, thinking the same thing. Only two people knew about Drake capturing us, which meant either Max or Manny were still alive. Or had been, recently.
Drake tightened his hand on the wheel. “What’s your point?”
“They belong in the custody of the United States Marshals in conjunction with the DEA.” The guard’s hand went to his hip, resting right above his gun. “Are you going to be a problem, sir?”
I looked around. In the booth past the guard talking to Drake, another man was speaking on a phone. Maybe to the snipers in the towers. He was looking at a piece of paper, his eyes flicking from it to me. Damn Wanted list.
“They’re my pickup,” Drake continued to argue. “I’m not turning them over to the damn Marshals.”
“You’ll get a reward for–”
“Their shit reward isn’t half of what I’d get if I took them across the border. Now raise the gate and let me through.”
“That isn’t going to happen. Now, I advise you to get out of the car–”
It happened so fast. Dro sucking in a deep breath, the subtle reek of sulfur, the air ripping open and a demon pouncing on the border guard. He screamed as the demon tore into him. I thought I heard gunshots, but if they weren’t silver or filled with rock salt and sage, they weren’t really going to help in time.
The window beside me was punched open, glass and a powerful fist scraping past my jaw. A Red demon wrenched open the door of the truck. I twisted and kicked it in the face with all my strength, since my arms were still trapped by the damned handcuffs.
