by Anya Nowlan
Dakota was about to put her phone away when she was suddenly yanked back by her seatbelt, hard enough to squeeze the air out of her lungs. Tires squealed and the car shook as it came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the road, metal groaning all around her.
“What the…” she muttered, looking over at Wes, but he seemed just as surprised as she was.
But if he didn’t stop the car…
“Dakota,” he said, his eyes fixed straight ahead, as steam started billowing out from under the hood. “You see that too, right?”
She followed his gaze to see a woman standing about twenty feet from the car, a vicious grin on her face. Dressed in fishnets, a tight miniskirt and a top that put her ample chest on display, she looked more like a stereotypical stripper, rather than what Dakota knew her to be – a demon.
Besides the fact that she seemed to have materialized out of thin air and had probably had a hand in stopping the car, the red glowing eyes were kind of a dead giveaway.
“Loch didn’t have eyes like that,” Wes muttered at her side, already unbuckling his seatbelt.
“He probably didn’t have boobs like that either,” Dakota replied.
“Yeah, I think I would have noticed that,” was Wes’ dry response. “And he was more of a stuffy suit guy.”
“Must be casual Friday in hell,” Dakota shrugged, even as fear settled in the pit of her stomach.
With her long, red hair blowing in the wind around her, the demon licked her lips and stretched out a hand, curving a long finger at them in a ‘come hither’ gesture that made Dakota want to gag at the sheer suggestiveness of it.
Whoever this woman was, she definitely wasn’t an echo, evident from the fact she wasn’t shrinking away from the daylight, and that she had enough power to stop the car dead. The steam coming out from under the hood was intensifying, obscuring Dakota’s view of the demon lady, and she did not like having that creature out of her sight one bit.
“Another one of Elias’ minions, I presume,” Wes said, pushing his door open.
“Wes,” Dakota hissed. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to go kick her ass before she tries anything,” he replied. “I don’t usually fight girls, but I’m willing to make an exception for a demon,” he added, and before Dakota could say anything else, he was already out of the car.
Wiggling over to the driver’s seat, Dakota tried starting the car back up in case they needed a speedy getaway, but the engine wouldn’t turn over.
Shit!
Hopping out of the door Wes had left open, Dakota ran to the back of the car, rushing to pop the trunk open. Pulling aside a dark blanket, she let out a sigh when a crossbow came into view, silver embellishments all along its handle.
Good thing Aunt Helen didn’t get her hands on this, or I’d be fighting demons with my bare hands.
She grabbed a pouch of matching, silver-tipped bolts and threw it around her neck before slamming the trunk shut and rushing to the front of the car.
Her eyebrows rose to her hairline when she saw Wes and the demon she was from thereon out calling Red, due to both her eyes and hair, scuffling on the ground in a rather compromising position.
Wes was laid flat on the asphalt, hands on Red’s hips, while she straddled him, thighs clamped around his waist. Struggling, it seemed Wes was trying to throw Red off, but the demon only laughed, an echoing, cackling sound that didn’t match her sexy appearance at all.
Adrenaline pumping through her, Dakota aimed the crossbow at Red, her hand steady. It had been awhile since she had last shot the thing, but it wasn’t a skill easily forgotten. And her dad had been a good teacher.
“Hey, bitch,” Dakota called out, her finger on the trigger.
She squeezed it as soon as Red whipped her head around, a snarl on her painted lips. Like some sort of circus contortionist, the demon leaned back, her red hair sweeping across the ground as the bolt whooshed by the place Red’s torso had been only a moment before.
But the bolt distracted Red enough that Wes was able to kick her off him, leaping to his feet in an instant. Now having to fight on two fronts, Red started backing away, eyes darting between Wes and Dakota.
Dakota walked closer, all the while keeping Red in her crosshairs. Wes was growling, his body tense and crouched, like an animal ready to pounce. But he was more cautious now, after having a taste of the demon’s strength.
Red might have looked like any girl you might pick up at a bar, but Dakota knew the demon would be a lot tougher than she appeared to be.
That’s why when the woman’s perfectly manicured nails suddenly turned into black, curved claws, Dakota didn’t hesitate. She guessed Red would see Wes as the bigger threat and would go after him first. But Red didn’t know this wasn’t just any old crossbow…
So Dakota aimed right between Red and Wes, targeting the empty space the demon would have to cross to get to the man. As Dakota had hoped, Red leapt forward just in time to catch a crossbow bolt to the side, the projectile hitting her in between the ribs.
With a howl, Red sank to her knees, her head thrown back. Dakota couldn’t help but grin in dark satisfaction.
“Time to go back where you came from,” she said, watching the demon writhe around in anguish. “And if Elias calls for you to finish the job, tell him I can’t wait to meet him again.”
Twenty
Wes
Wes watched the demon in front of him lose form, until the woman he had been battling was nothing more than a wisp of fog, carried away in a lazy breeze.
“Damn,” he muttered, turning his eyes to Dakota. “That crossbow really packed a punch.”
“Yeah,” she shrugged, blowing a strand of hair away from her face. “Blessed by some pope or another. As is the ammo. Which I’m kind of running out of, actually,” she frowned, glancing down at the small pouch around her neck and only counting one bolt. “Can’t get things blessed by popes like you used to,” she shook her head.
“That’s certainly a problem I’ve run into,” Wes nodded, catching himself looking around, in case that red-haired demon popped back up.
Dakota must have caught the looks.
“She won’t be back unless someone summons her again,” she said. “And I don’t think Elias would bet on a failure a second time.”
No, that didn’t sound like Elias. But what bothered Wes now was the fact that Elias seemed to be upping the stakes. Who or what would the man send after them next?
“You saved my ass,” Wes admitted, walking over to Dakota, who was squinting at him in the sunlight. “Hey, the weather didn’t change,” he remarked, tilting his chin up at the sky.
“You can bet it did in New York,” Dakota scoffed. “That’s where Elias is doing his spellwork from, so that’s the area that will be affected.”
“So no heads up in the form of a nice little rain shower then,” Wes sighed.
Walking over to where the demon used to be, Dakota picked up the first bolt, the one that had missed, and placed it back into the pouch she was carrying. The other one had disappeared along with the demon.
“I’m afraid not,” she replied, resting the crossbow on her shoulder. “We better get a move on. It’s not good to be out in the open like this,” she said as she turned on her heel and walked back to the car. “And you’re welcome. For the ass,” she added, and Wes could hear a smile in her voice.
Grinning, Wes could feel his wolf moving beneath his skin again. Even Dakota’s voice was now enough to get him going, that maddening purr in her tone when she teased him making it difficult for him to not imagine her body wrapped around his.
“What other toys to you have stashed away back there?” he asked, following her around the car as she popped the trunk open and tossed the crossbow and pouch of bolts inside.
“The other stuff isn’t magically charged,” she replied. “Not anymore, anyway. These kinds of things tend to lose power over time. I have some things that you might call potions lying around, but those are for em
ergencies only.”
“A demon attack isn’t an emergency?” Wes arched a brow at her when she slammed the trunk back shut.
“Not in my line of work, no,” she smiled.
Had he really expected any other answer? Dakota might have had some mixed feelings about carrying on her father’s legacy, but after what had just happened, it was plain it was exactly the job she was cut out for.
Their victory over the demon aside, though, they still had plenty of problems.
Strolling over to the front of Dakota’s car, Wes crouched down, pursing his lips. There was still some smoke wisping out from under the hood, not to mention the huge dent where the bumper used to be.
“We’re not going far with this cracked radiator, though,” he remarked, earning a sigh from Dakota.
“Well… Then we better hope that gas station I looked up isn’t abandoned after all, or we’ll be stuck here waiting for Triple-A for hours,” she replied.
And that wasn’t exactly an option with demons on their tail.
With the car sputtering and groaning around them, Wes was glad to see the gas station they were headed for slowly coming into view over a small hill. The rusted sign that spelled out Gus’ Gas was barely hanging off the roof, and the rest of the building didn’t look much better either.
But, he could already hear a heartbeat inside, so at least it wasn’t deserted.
“Someone’s in there,” he said, getting Dakota’s attention.
“Great. What are the chances it’s a skilled mechanic with a spare radiator lying around?” she asked.
“Can’t tell that from a heartbeat, I’m afraid,” he shrugged.
“Stranded in the middle of nowhere,” he could hear Dakota mutter under her breath.
“Hey,” he said, squeezing whatever was left out of the car as they rolled to a stop outside the gas station. “It’s going to be fine. We’re going to figure this out,” he assured her. “You just crossbowed a demon. What’s a little car trouble?”
“I don’t think ‘crossbowed’ is a word,” she quirked a brow at him, but there was a smile tugging at the edges of her lips.
Before Wes could argue that, the door of the gas station creaking open caught his attention. Dakota looked over as well, leaning to see past him.
An older man stepped out, dressed in work jeans and a loose shirt, both items well-worn but clean. Graying hair peeked out from under a red trucker hat, and the guy leaned against the doorframe, eyeing them with suspicion.
“I don’t think gas is going to fix your problems,” the man called out, pointing his chin at the Toyota.
“Hello, sir,” Dakota called out, waving at the guy and putting on a bright smile. “We’ve had a little accident, could you help us, please?”
The man pursed his lips, looking like he was deciding if it was worth it, getting out of the shade of the station to come over and see what was going on. Finally, with a sigh, he strolled over.
“What was it, a deer?” he asked, stopping in front of the car.
“That’s right,” Dakota nodded enthusiastically, hopping out. “How did you know?”
“It happens around here,” he shrugged.
“I’m Dakota, by the way,” Dakota smiled, reaching out her hand.
Wes pushed the driver side door open, joining her as all three of them surveyed the damage to her car.
“And this is my brother, Wes,” she added, glancing up at him.
“Gus,” the man grunted in response.
While the thought of being in any way related to Dakota was unpalatable at best, Wes just went along with it, nodding. Gus already seemed to be warming up to Dakota’s cheery attitude, however put on it might have been.
They needed Gus’ help to get back on the road, after all. Who knew What Elias was up to, and the responsibility to stop him now fell squarely on Wes’ and Dakota’s shoulders.
Twenty-One
Dakota
“You wouldn’t happen to know a mechanic around here, would you, Gus?” Dakota asked, looking around the emptiness all around her.
Now it was clear why Gus’ Gas was still up and running – it was the only option for gas for miles and miles, in the middle of nowhere.
Dakota and Wes had taken less-traveled roads to avoid casualties or chaos when Elias inevitably sent another one of his minions after them, and that had been a good thing when it came to their confrontation with Red. But now that they needed the perks of civilization, it seemed they were screwed.
Now all Dakota’s hopes lay with Gus.
The man scratched his head through his trucker cap, sucking his teeth.
“I know a guy a couple of miles that way,” he gestured vaguely. “But you’ll never make it in this,” he added, looking at the front of Dakota’s Toyota.
“Is there any way you could help us get to this guy you know?” Dakota asked, batting her lashes at Gus. “It’s just that we’re on our way to see our grandma, and she doesn’t have a lot of time left, god bless her,” she added, really laying it on thick.
Luckily, Gus didn’t catch the half-proud, half-disapproving look Wes shot her way. Sure, the dying granny story might have been slightly distasteful and a whole lot deceptive, but Dakota didn’t really have time to come up with something better.
It wasn’t like the truth was an option.
With a small sigh, Wes stepped closer, throwing an arm around her shoulders.
“Gam-gam’s all we have left,” he said, the sincerity of his tone catching Dakota off guard.
A better actor than I would have thought… she mused, suppressing a grin.
“I guess I could tow you there….” Gus said, and Dakota immediately clapped her hands together, hopping in place with only half-feigned excitement.
“Oh, that would be amazing, and so kind,” she replied, her voice an octave higher than usual.
“Yeah, yeah,” Gus waved a hand, but Dakota caught the crinkling around the man’s eyes, and a twitch around his mouth.
It was outward grumps like Gus that usually had the most generous hearts, especially when it came to helping a lady in trouble. Maybe she reminded him of a daughter, or niece, or perhaps even an old flame, it didn’t really matter. He was going to help them, that was what was important.
Yet, Dakota couldn’t help but feel a little squeeze around her heart, her thoughts drifting back to her dad. Now there was a man who would gladly give someone the shirt off his back.
Instinctively, she pressed even closer against Wes, her arm wrapping around his lower back. Him just being there, beside her, gave her comfort. He gave her shoulders a squeeze, and suddenly, the feelings stirring inside her couldn’t have been less familial.
It was almost as if she could sense the animal inside him, dangerous, powerful and thrilling.
Clearing her throat, she took a step away from him, refocusing her attention on Gus.
“You wait here, I’ll go get my truck,” he said, and Dakota nodded.
“Thank you so much, sir,” she said, as Gus turned around and headed back toward the gas station.
Wes and Dakota watched him disappear somewhere behind the house.
“I sure do hope grandma makes it,” Wes said quietly, as soon as Gus was gone.
“Shut up,” she replied, playfully swatting at his shoulder. “I had to think on my feet, all right.”
“Hey, no judgment,” Wes spread his hands, grinning. “Just odd seeing you so… girly, I guess,” he shrugged.
“Dresses might not be my thing, but I still have my charms,” she replied.
“You sure do,” Wes muttered, sounding like he might not have intended to say that aloud.
The head-to-toe look he gave her, though, said even more than words, and sent a shiver down Dakota’s spine. Whatever it was that had blossomed between them from that moment they met in Pinedale, it was getting near-impossible to ignore.
If it wasn’t for the fact Gus would be back any second, and they were supposed to be siblings, she wasn’t sur
e if she wouldn’t have jumped on Wes that very moment. There was an ache inside her that demanded she find out what it was like to kiss him, to have his arms wrapped tight around her…
The sound of a loud, clanking engine brought her back to reality. She turned toward the gas station only to see an ancient-looking truck pull up from behind it. With its huge, bulbous front, open bed and boxy frame, it didn’t look like it even belonged to this century.
“Is that…” Dakota trailed off, not really knowing how to end that sentence.
Gus’ idea of a Joke? A museum piece? A death trap more dangerous than a demon?
Beside her, Wes’ eyes lit up.
“A ’53 Chevy 3100? You bet,” he said, with an unwarranted amount of enthusiasm.
“It’s a rust bucket!” Dakota argued.
The truck must have been green once upon a time, but now, its main color was a rusty brown. Gus, however, seemed entirely unperturbed as he pulled up next to them and swung the door open.
“A beauty, isn’t she?” he asked, patting the dashboard before stepping out.
“Uh…” Dakota drew out.
“Magnificent,” Wes answered for her. “Does it still have the original engine?” he asked.
“Sure does,” Gus pulled his hat lower over his eyes. “My buddy, the one I was telling you about, has worked on it a couple of times, but it still runs.”
“This buddy of yours…” Dakota started cautiously. “He does work on modern cars too, right?” she asked.
“If you can call that piece of plastic a car,” Gus huffed, sparing a glance at her Toyota. “But yeah, he works on all kinds of machines.”
Dakota almost let out a sigh of relief before her initial shock wore off and she realized why exactly Gus had gotten his truck out of retirement, where it belonged.
“You’re going to tow us in that thing?” she asked, unable to keep the disbelief out of her voice.
