The Quick and the Undead: Volume 1 (Tombstone, Texas)

by Kimberly Raye

Blanks. That’s what the waitress at the hotel had told her. The guns held only a laser that triggered some sort of electronic sensor if they hit any of the targets sewn into the vests of either gunfighter. An alarm would sound when someone was struck, and the fighter delivering the “fatal” blow would win, thereby moving on to the next round.

  The clock struck the appropriate time. One of the actors who worked at the saloon signaled the start, and gunfire cracked open the hushed silence.

  The winner was a stockbroker from Chicago who not only gave a loud whoop, but did a twerking victory dance around the square before heading for the saloon to celebrate while waiting for the next battle.

  Riley thought about going back to the hotel and banging on the door of Boone’s room. He was there. She could feel him.

  Not that he would answer.

  The knowledge sat heavy in her chest as she tried to go through the motions and pretend that everything was okay. She took notes for her blog and came up with a great opening for her first post.

  “This has been the best week of my life,” said one of the guests who came up next to her. The woman had been on the same shuttle from the airport. “I had this horrible fear of horses, but I actually rode bareback yesterday. Can you believe that?”

  She could. She’d overcome her own fear here in Tombstone and, as crazy as it sounded, had the best week of her life as well.

  With Boone.

  “It’ll be so sad to leave tomorrow,” the woman added. “I can’t believe it’s really over.”

  Neither could Riley.

  And while it might, indeed, be finished as far as Boone was concerned, she wasn’t going to just slink away out of town as if nothing had happened. She was through running. It was time for her to stand her ground and stand up for her man, even if it meant getting hurt.

  She turned toward the hotel and walked back inside. Gathering her courage, she marched up to the third floor, approached his door and started to knock.

  IT WAS THE MIDDLE of the fucking day.

  The truth pounded at Boone’s temples along with the incessant knocking, and he threw his legs over the side of the bed.

  Not that he’d been asleep. Last night had worn him down, but he was still wired from Riley’s blood and the heartbreaking knowledge that their time together had ended. He’d spent the early morning tossing and turning and damning himself for getting so close to her. For letting her under his skin and into his heart.

  Because now he had to let her go.

  No, you don’t. You can make her stay. You’re a vampire, for Christ’s sake. You can make her do anything.

  He could. He could throw her over his shoulder the moment he opened the door, haul her into the room, toss her onto the bed, and fuck her until she begged for more.

  Yes, he could make her stay. For a little while. But then she would start to hate him just as she’d hated her ex, and he would get restless. They would both end up leaving anyway, so what was the point?

  A few more days with her. A few more memories.

  That’s what the hunger whispered, but Boone had already made up his mind.

  That was why he didn’t answer the door.

  “Go away,” he growled, and after a long while, she finally listened.

  Until sunset.

  Then she was back, waiting for him when he finally opened the door and walked out into the hall.

  “I need to use the phone,” she told him. “The line is too long at City Hall.”

  A frown pulled his face tight. “Is that what all the knocking was about?”

  She shrugged. “Pretty much.”

  He tamped down on the crazy hope spiraling through him and motioned her down the hallway. “After you.”

  A few minutes later, they walked into the jail. Clay sat in the corner, a smile on his face until Boone gave him a glare.

  “I’ll just let you two have your privacy,” the deputy said. A chair squeaked and boots slid across the floor, and just like that, he was gone.

  “In here,” Boone said, leading her into the communications room. He motioned to the phone that sat in the far corner.

  “I’d like to check my e-mail too, if you don’t mind. You do have Internet, right?”

  He nodded and pointed to the high-tech computer system. “Knock yourself out.”

  Riley watched Boone turn and head back to the outer office. A futile attempt at privacy, she knew. His hearing was heightened and so she had no doubt he would hear every word she said. Feel everything.

  But then, that’s what she was counting on.

  She reached for the phone. Punching in the number, she called Andi and left her a message that she was having an amazing time and that the blog entries were going to be great, and then she called her younger sister.

  As usual, Kara’s answering machine picked up, and Riley fought the sudden urge to hang up.

  Not this time.

  Not ever again.

  “Hey, Sis. I’m in Texas at a new vacation resort. Tombstone, to be more specific. Sorry I missed you. I’ll call you later and give you all the details.”

  Her phone calls out of the way, she sat down at the desk and turned her attention to the computer. She clicked Internet Explorer and watched the main screen come up.

  Instead of logging onto her e-mail account, she went to her blog and entered her username and password.

  She clicked on New Entry and spent the next fifteen minutes writing her opening blog post featuring Tombstone. Once the last word had been typed, she clicked on Save.

  “Are you done yet?” Boone pushed his head through the open doorway, a wary look on his face.

  “Not just yet.” She squashed the last of her nerves and swallowed the sudden lump in her throat.

  She didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

  She was more than capable of protecting herself. She always had been—she just hadn’t trusted herself not to succumb to the fear and end up back under Phil’s thumb. Sure, she’d stood up to him once, but deep inside, she’d always figured that to be a fluke. A momentary weakness on Phil’s part, rather than her own rock-solid courage.

  It hadn’t been. She was strong enough to face off with him again should he ever catch up to her. To stand up a thousand times over if she had to. She knew that now. She embraced it. And if she needed a little backup, well, Boone was no slouch at kicking ass.

  With a decisive click, she hit Post.

  The entry went live in that next instant and Riley couldn’t help the surge of triumph that rushed through her.

  “I did it.” She smiled up at Boone. “I finally did it.”

  “DID WHAT?” But Boone already knew. Deep in his gut, he felt the surge of freedom that rolled through Riley. He stared past her at the computer screen and her wildly popular website. The newest entry popped up at the top of the main page, along with the heading “Tombstone, Texas: A thrilling ride back in time.”

  “I’m not running anymore,” she told him. “And neither are you. I love you and you love me and we’re going to figure this thing out.” Her courage seemed to falter in that next instant and her nerves got the best of her. “You do love me, don’t you?”

  “You’re crazy,” he told her. But he was the crazy one, he realized in that next instant.

  She was offering him everything and he was still pushing her away. And why?

  Because he didn’t believe in true love. Because he’d never seen it in his lifetime, or in the eternity since. He’d never felt it.

  Until now.

  Riley knew his deepest, darkest secrets, his fears, his regrets . . . and she loved him anyway.

  And he loved her.

  Even more, he trusted her.

  He knew as he stared deep into her eyes, that she would never willingly hurt
him. Never turn her back. Never stand idly by and do nothing.

  She would move that mountain or trudge miles through the snow or post her whereabouts for everyone to see. And all for him.

  For love.

  “I’m the one who’s crazy, huh?” she countered. “You know what? Maybe I am. I’m crazy beautiful”—a smile tugged at her full lips—“and I’m most definitely crazy strong.”

  “Don’t forget crazy loveable.” He caught her hands and drew her to her feet, and into his arms. “I do love you, Riley.”

  Her brown eyes softened to warm, rich caramel and her mouth curved into a victorious smile. “I know. That’s why we’re going to see this thing through.” A seriousness lit her expression. “I’ve been wanting to slow down. Andi’s been wanting to travel. We can switch places. She needs a little excitement in her life. I could find a place in Austin—”

  He caught the word with a delicious kiss that had her trembling in his arms. “I don’t want to be in Austin,” he murmured when he finally pulled away. “Not really. I just wanted to be anywhere but here. I didn’t want to end up a spineless coward like my old man and I was convinced that settling down would be the first step.”

  “You’re nothing like him.”

  “I know that.” Still, hearing her say it with such conviction sent a rush of pure joy through him. “I want to stay here, and I want you with me.”

  And where fear of his past had pushed him away his entire existence, love—true love—pulled him back.

  To the land.

  To her.

  A fierceness gripped him and he tightened his arms around her. “You’re mine, Riley. Now and always.” And then he kissed her again.

  And she kissed him back because she was his. And he was hers.

  Now. Always.

  Epilogue

  “NO ONE GOES topless in my town.” Taggart James slammed the gavel down on the massive table where the remaining nine members of the Tombstone Ten were seated. He glared at the woman seated directly across from him.

  And Belle Cassidy glared right back.

  She’d faced off with ornery mountain men and cheap gold miners and even a handful of cutthroat soldiers. One know-it-all, OCD control freak vampire wasn’t about to dissuade her. Even if he was sexy as all get-out when he climbed up on his high horse.

  Belle glanced around the table. “I say we put it to a vote.”

  “When hell freezes over.”

  “Well, pull out your snowsuit, because it’s happening,” Belle told him. “That’s the way we do things. We put everything to a vote.”

  “I can’t say that I think a topless tea room is the way to go here in town, but she is right.” The comment came from the only other female seated at the table. “We should at least vote on it,” Maddie Reed added. The singer had a pinched look on her face that said she would rather stake herself than take up for Belle.

  But even uptight, pickpocket turned do-gooder Maddie realized that it was the principle that mattered here.

  It wasn’t that Belle wanted to rip off her bra and blouse and bare the upstairs goodies, or that she wanted to objectify her employees over at the cat house by asking them to do the same. Hell, the actual idea had been nothing more than a sharp-witted remark to get in Tag’s craw. A well-if-you-can-do-that-then-I-can-do-this type of thing that had escalated to the point that they sat here with the actual motion on the table.

  Crazy—the idea, that is. But not the point of it—namely that Belle should have the freedom to make up her own mind when it came to anything clothing optional.

  Every woman should. Not according to Mayor Taggart James, however, who was a bona fide horse’s ass who thought he could boss everyone around.

  Granted, a good-looking horse’s ass with his sun-streaked blond hair and perfectly chiseled face and incredible blue eyes, but a capital A-double S nonetheless.

  “Listen here, Apple Pie.” Belle motioned to him, reminding him of his pristine past and the fact that he’d once been the golden boy of his small town rather than a vicious outlaw vampire. “This is a democracy, not a dictatorship. Anything that gets brought to the table gets voted on right here.” Her expression hardened. “Right now.”

  Tag glared, his eyes flashing brighter, hotter, as he struggled to hold onto his temper.

  Not that Belle felt the least bit threatened. Not after the week she’d had.

  She could still feel the ripple of awareness that chased up and down her spine. The whisper of sensation that told her something bad was headed their way. Someone far more deadly than Boone’s vindictive father.

  “We should vote,” Boone chimed in. He sat on Tag’s left, his expression serious. But Belle didn’t miss the flash of amusement in his gaze.

  “Yeah,” Ethan added.

  Heads nodded around the table as the rest of the vampires agreed on the proper course of action.

  “Fine.” Tag prickled. “We’ll vote. All those in favor of letting this lunatic woman here open a completely inappropriate topless tea room that will surely tarnish the image we’re trying hard to build, raise your hand.”

  “I vote yes.” Belle slid her hand into the air.

  “Imagine that.” Tag glanced around. “Anyone else?”

  Surprisingly, Maddie’s hand slid halfway up and Belle had the sudden thought that maybe the singer wasn’t all that uptight, after all. She obviously had the good sense to realize that they had to stick together and not let these males bully them into submission.

  “That’s two in favor,” Belle declared.

  “And seven opposed,” Tag reminded her.

  “How do we know it’s seven?”

  Tag’s gaze narrowed even more. “Because if they didn’t raise their hand in favor, they’re obviously against it.”

  “Maybe they’re undecided. You should make it official and call for the nays.”

  Tag looked as if he’d rather pluck out his own eyes. Or better yet, reach across the table and pluck out the baby blues staring a hole through him. The tension carved his features tight for a long moment before he finally shrugged. “Fine. All those opposed?”

  Boone raised his hand, followed by Clay, Rhett, and Seth.

  When Belle glared at the saloon owner, he shrugged. “Come on, Belle. We’ve got teenagers that come here with their parents. It’s not appropriate.”

  “That’s right,” Maddie added. “I totally forgot about that. Can I change my vote?”

  “No need.” Tag slammed the gavel down. “The motion is denied. Now let’s move on to some real issues. We’ve got a half dozen new horses coming in to the livery first thing Monday morning to accommodate the increase in guests. We need to talk about expanding the stables and adding another hotel. Riley Davenport—”, He nodded to the brunette sitting off to the side, an iPad in her hands. “—has managed to double our bookings in the past six weeks since she took the marketing position here . . .”

  Because she’d fallen head over heels in love with Sheriff Boone.

  Of all the dumb-ass things . . .

  If Belle had learned anything over the past one hundred and seventy-five years, it was that love led to the worst kind of heartache.

  Her mother had fallen in love, and she’d ended up turning tricks, a slave to the brothel owner who’d captured her heart.

  And Belle had gone down the same tragic path.

  Her gaze went to Tag and her memory stirred. Of the two of them, touching and kissing and loving . . .

  Yep, she’d been head over heels, all right. But Tag hadn’t loved her back, and so she’d ended up disillusioned. Heartbroken. And dead.

  She definitely didn’t want to forget that all-important fact.

  Still, Riley looked so happy that she almost believed the woman had found the real thing. Happier even s
ince she’d learned from her sister that a certain creep named Phil was now serving multiple prison terms for domestic abuse. Belle shook her head. It looked as if everything was falling into place for Riley, and Boone, too. Maybe there was something to the whole love thing. Hell, she’d never seen the sheriff more content in his life—or afterlife, either.

  But then she felt the anxiety prickle her spine again and she forgot all about love and happily-ever-afters.

  Her nerves buzzed and her hands trembled, the reaction stronger than before. The feelings were getting sharper and more intense, and impossible to ignore.

  She’d tried. She’d chalked it up to an overactive imagination. Or stress. Or the damned memories of her last night as a slave to the leader of the infamous Tombstone Ten.

  But this was more than a vivid memory of the worst night of her afterlife.

  “I need to say something—” she blurted, but Tag jumped in.

  “The subject is closed.”

  “It’s not about the tea room.”

  “No,” he growled. “No lemonade stand. Or juice bar. Or any other beverage service that’s clothing optional.”

  “It’s not about going topless.” The fear spiraled through her and the next words trembled from her lips. “It’s about Ike.”

  “What do you mean?” Tag demanded.

  Worry twisted Maddie’s angelic features. “He’s not on his way back to Tombstone, is he?”

  Belle shook her head. “No, no, he’s not coming.” Her gaze traveled around the table before shifting to her trembling hands and the undeniable truth. “I think he’s already here.”

  The End

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