This wasn’t that. He had just been dying of curiosity, and finally, he had the one hint. A symbol Valen had given him. A simple piece of paper with so much and so little information on it.
“This is the book I want,” Maxwell whispered to himself. His bosses had no idea what he was doing in their library at night. They never asked. They had granted his request to be permanently stationed in Redstone to help the new sheriff and protect the gate to Hell. That was really all he cared about from them.
His family was a different story. He had to sneak out of their parties and events to get any research done. They always knew where to find him, which annoyed him the most. He was a grown man, but his father was an important member of society. No one told his father no when he demanded something, not if they wanted to keep their jobs.
Maxwell heard the footsteps before he could even start reading. He quickly closed the book and grabbed the hint Valen had given him. He hid the note, but didn’t bother hiding the book. He just didn’t want anyone seeing where he was reading in it.
“My boy. Are you down here again?”
“Yes. Back here.” Maxwell sighed, standing up and looking around the bookshelf to see his father coming down the row, an old friend of his in tow. “What can I do for you?”
“I heard the most disturbing rumor earlier today. So did Garfield.”
Maxwell clenched his jaw. Shit. I know what this is going to be about.
“Why is my daughter now being whispered as the sheriff of this little place you love so much? What was it? Redstone?” Garfield clasped his hands in front of him. “That’s where she’s been, right?”
“Because she is.” Maxwell saw no reason to lie about it.
“I’m going to disown her. It’s about time.” The old man shook his head, looking at his father. “We take care of these girls, and this is what they go and do. They run away. They marry some lowbred shifter. He dies, and what does she do? Come home finally? No. She picks up a gun and decides to play in a man’s job.”
Maxwell wanted to reach out and strangle the man. He remembered all the things she had said to him. To think she would compare him to this man sometimes. Men like her father. “She’s probably going to be the best sheriff that town has ever had. She’s immensely powerful, highly intelligent, and resourceful. She commands the good will of most of the leaders of the town, from the werecat Alpha to the werewolf. Her late husband was the son of Redstone’s shifter Alpha. She’s on speaking terms with Madam, an ancient vampire who keeps her nest in Redstone as well. Madam is quite fond of your daughter, and she notoriously hates warlocks and witches. So, sir, with all due respect, when I heard her name was in running for the job, I put my bid in for her.” She would never know he had this conversation. He never told her about the times her family would track him down and demand information. He would never give them anything but the truth, and he always put her in the best light he could.
“You don’t know her like I do,” Garfield snapped. “How out of control she can be. How she hurt a man who had done nothing—”
“I know exactly what happened with that. Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to marry off a young girl to build your political career.” Maxwell felt rage now. Oh yeah, he knew everything about that. He knew that the horses she had stolen when she left for the West had been that man’s. “I, too, have ears in places, Garfield. Father, get him out of my sight. If you hate her so much, disown her and be done with it. She’ll stop being a dark spot on your reputation and finally never have to worry about you ever showing up again.”
“How dare you!” Garfield yelled.
His father grabbed the other man while glaring at him. “Maxwell—”
“Get out.” He was done with them. “I don’t want to see you or him for the rest of this trip.”
His father looked furious, but pulled Garfield along. Maxwell sighed heavily as soon as the door closed. He could hear its slam echo through the library.
“Well, that could have gone better,” he muttered. “Back to this…”
He sat down, missing home. Not the East. Not these people or their little world of privilege and power. He missed Redstone, where hard work got someone far. A smile was more common than a sneer. He felt at home in the ragtag bunch, even though he came from a world like this one.
He opened the book again and looked to the section he needed. Slavic deities of many pantheons. Valen was Russian. This was his last option. He’d tried everything else he knew from the region.
This was the only option that scared him.
He flipped through the pages, slowly but surely, looking over all of them, wondering if he would find the symbol on any of them. Slowly but surely, he knocked out some options. Feminine deities, mostly. There was nothing feminine about Valen.
Then he froze. He had turned the page again and there it was. An upside-down triangle with a separate piece over it, almost like an angular bowl.
He checked the name and swallowed. Could this be it?
He read through some general information. God of earths, waters, and…Gods, the underworld. Shivers ran down Maxwell’s spine. Maxwell disregarded the physical account. It wasn’t important, but the rest…He was associated with things Maxwell thought fit right in with the Wild West. Cattle and the harvest. Funny how everyone was successful with that in Redstone when the area was generally arid.
Music. Maxwell wanted to shake his head. Damn, it felt obvious.
Magic. No wonder he also holds a flame for Adalyn, and some of the things he can do…
Trickery. Oh yeah, I can see that, too.
Maxwell was so shocked that he pulled the symbol on the piece of paper back out. It was a very distinct match. He put it down and wrote very carefully.
Valen = GOD.
He dropped his fountain pen, unable to write the next part. Out loud, he breathed out in shock. “Veles. Valen is fucking Veles.”
He wasn’t thinking. He was in awe, really. His friend was a god. A real, true god. He had seen countless civilizations rise and fall.
He had a Slavic god in Redstone. The Wild West of North America.
What?
He knew, at that moment, he didn’t care about anything except getting back to Redstone. The things he could ask. The things he could learn.
He started cleaning up his books, closing the most important last, touching its cover for a long time. He would steal the book if he knew he could get away with it, but there were spells in place for that. He put it away and went to grab his notes, pausing for a moment to see something else was on that piece of paper now.
Underneath where he had put Valen was a god, there was something new. In a perfect script handwriting, it said:
Thank you.
Maxwell began to shake as thunder rolled. There were no storms that night, and the thunder was in the library.
Maxwell, after weeks of research, had forgotten one small thing Valen had told him. “Don’t say my name out loud. Ever.”
“Fuck. I need to get back to Redstone now.”
He scrambled to grab everything and ran for the door. He had a feeling he was racing against a clock he had no chance of beating.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading!
I have too much fun writing these. I hope, if you’re here, that you have fun reading about Adalyn and her men. None of them are perfect, but I always enjoy that with my characters. I love exploring their flaws. Easton and Tobias didn’t make this one easy on me (just like they didn’t make it easy on Adalyn).
Book three is called Gods and Gunslingers. I am sure we all know what’s coming.
Reviews are always welcome, whether you loved or hated the book. Please consider taking a few moments to leave one and know I appreciate every second of your time and I’m thankful.
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About the Author
KristenBanetAuthor.com
Kristen Banet has a Diet Coke problem, smokes too much, and cusses like a sailor. She loves to read, and before finally sitting to try her hand at writing, she had your normal kind of work history. From tattoo parlors, to the U.S. Navy, and freelance illustration, she’s stumbled through her adult years and somehow, is still kicking.
She loves to read books that make people cry and tries to write them. She’s a firm believer that nothing and no one in this world is perfect, and she enjoys exploring those imperfections—trying to make the characters seem real on the page and not just in her head.
Also by Kristen Banet
Witch of the Wild West
Bounty Hunters and Black Magic
Werewolves and Wranglers
Age of the Andinna
The Gladiator’s Downfall
The Mercenary’s Bounty
Complete Series
The Redemption Saga
A Life of Shadows
A Heart of Shame
A Nature of Conflict
An Echo of Darkness
A Night of Redemption
Wild Junction
The Kingson Pride Series
Wild Pride
Wild Fire
Wild Souls
Wild Love
The Wolves of Wild Junction Duet
Prey to the Heart
Heart of the Pack
Werewolves and Wranglers Page 26