Stallion of Ash and Flame (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Savanna Kougar

  Rory’s workshop sat between the house and the stable, located far enough away that the backside wasn’t visible to anyone who arrived to visit their horses. Parking, he stepped out and scanned all around him for several moments. Automatically, he flowed his palm above the tire tracks, erasing them as he moved back to the house.

  His boot hit the first step of the porch, and he heard Chief’s warning the same time he saw Sheriff Colgan’s patrol car pulling onto the highway in his mind’s eye.

  She opened the door. “He’s coming, isn’t he?”

  Trail gave her one nod. “I won’t be far behind.” Their gazes met and locked as she stepped outside, letting the door slam.

  “No.” She halted before him, standing on the second step. “Go watch over the horses. Make sure nothing happens to them.”

  Despite his savage urge to deny her, Trail didn’t argue with her. This was what she needed, to feel in control. “Yes, ma’am.”

  He wheeled around, breaking into a trot toward the stable while streaking his awareness toward her and connecting them. Now he could observe and feel everything that happened and know when to intervene, all while taking a tour of the Sheriff’s mind.

  From the shaded entrance of the stable, he watched her stride resolutely down her drive until she disappeared. Floating his sixth sense above her, he felt her volatile, yet cold determination to take on her enemy. Part of it had been born out of her sheer disgust and outrage over his immoral criminal activities. Yet, most of it was for her brother. Her fists were clenched, her nails digging into her palms. Her chin jutted with challenge.

  Once Sheriff Colgan turned onto her drive, she marched faster, intercepting his effort to drive around her. She planted herself in front of his car and folded her arms. He felt her enraged glare.

  Sheriff Colgan took his time getting out of his car, finally emerging as if he’d arrived to do her favor, and she better be grateful for it. He hitched up his gun belt before striding a few steps alongside his car.

  “Stay off of my property, Sheriff. If you got something to say, say it.”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you was waitin’ for me to show up. Is that true, Ms. Winston?” The Sheriff aimed a deadly glance at her.

  “Sure, suit yourself, Sheriff.” She cocked a hip. “I saw your car when I came down to get Chief.” She abruptly waved her arm in the paint’s direction. “Are you going to arrest me for that?”

  “I had a complaint against you.” He paused, waiting for her to beg and crawl into his trap.

  “Why, Sheriff, if I chased after you every time I received a complaint against you, I wouldn’t get anything else done.” She glared like a pissed off goddess, and Trail had seen a few of those.

  “This is serious, Seneca.” His voice boomed with authority, and his palm rested on top of his gun butt.

  “I’m serious,” she shot back. “This is harassment.”

  “I have a complaint I need to check out. And you can start by answering a few questions.” He took another couple of steps toward her.

  She didn’t move an inch. “You can start by answering my questions. Who made the complaint?”

  “Why, you know I can’t tell you that.” His tone both wheedled and demanded. “Let’s get this over and done with. I’m gonna have a look around your property. And you’re gonna to be polite, young lady, while I take a look.”

  “What are you looking for?” Ice vied with the fire racing through her veins.

  “I had a complaint of marijuana. One of your boarding people smelled it.”

  “Is that so? Where’s your search warrant?” She angled her head like a fighter about to throw one wicked punch. “In fact, where’s the SWAT team? Or are they on their way?”

  “Thought I’d give a look see, first. Make it easier on all of us.”

  “Why? Is the complainee not reliable? Gee,” she sarcastically sliced, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you just want my little ranch for your very own.” She paused, icing him with a stare. “Bring the evidence with you...Sheriff?”

  He gave her an exasperated glare, hatred in his stone-cold eyes. “I’m about to arrest you for obstructing an officer in his duty.”

  “What duty? The duty to plant weed and take away an innocent person’s property?”

  Pointing his finger like a weapon, Sheriff Colgan looked like a man about to blow his top higher than a volcano. “You think you got rights, missy. You ain’t got squat or piss. Your precious property is inside the Constitution Free zone. One hundred miles from the Mexican border. I can do whatever I want.”

  She didn’t answer immediately. “Why? Are you secretly joined at the hip with Homeland Security?”

  It was Pork Belly’s turn to pause. Furious as a frustrated bull, his face reddened. He stabbed his finger back toward his car window. “I can get on the horn right now and call Homeland Security.”

  She hesitated for one heartbeat. “While you’re at it, why don’t you get a search warrant?”

  “I don’t need no stinkin’ search warrant,” he thundered. “I told you I got every right to search your place, where I want, and for as long as I want. And I want to start now.” He lurched forward.

  She took a step to the side in reaction. “Since this is a so-called Constitution Free zone, I assume I don’t have to abide by any rules or regulations, either. Or give any due consideration to your rights as an individual.”

  “What the fuck?” His jaw went slack before he curled his lips tightly in a snarl. “You’ll do exactly as you’re told, bitch.”

  “Got the camera rolling, Sheriff? This is a legitimate call, isn’t it? You know, you signed off on it, or something like that.”

  “You give me one more instant of trouble or mouth, I’m arresting your brother—”

  “No, you won’t,” she coldly interrupted. “I’ve got you on vid, making drug deals.”

  Sheriff Colgan froze, still as if he’d been shot with a thermal ray gun.

  Stunned himself, Trail didn’t begin his brain scrambling technique soon enough. His alteration was fended off by the Fire Starter who psi-shielded their human tool. Shedding his clothes with his phase ability, he shifted to full-blooded stallion and charged out of the stable, his hooves digging into the gravel and dirt.

  Knowing he could race faster on the grass beside the drive, he changed course slightly, his hooves now pounding on the ground and tearing up the turf. The instant he saw her, he screamed his intent to do battle, his ears flattening. She backed away from Sheriff Colgan, who advanced dangling a pair of handcuffs. Hearing him, she spun around. Both of them stared, their bodies paralyzed as he galloped like a demon toward them.

  “You better control that stallion of yours, or I’ll shoot him straight in the heart.”

  “He’s not mine. I don’t know who he is.” He watched her seize the opportunity to put more distance between herself and Pork Belly.

  Drojovv heard the slide of the Sheriffs gun out of the holster. He sprinted, stretching his neck out, ready to sink his teeth in and rip out a huge hunk of the flesh. He could taste it already.

  “No,” she shouted. “Don’t shoot him.” Stepping between him and the Sheriff, she called, “Here, boy. Come here.”

  Keeping his fierce stride, Drojovv jumped to a new course and targeted the side of the patrol car. Wheeling around, he lashed out with a hind foot, cracking, then smashing in the back passenger window.

  “Shit! I swear I’m gonna kill that crazy horse.”

  Spinning around to the rear of the car, Drojovv dug his back hooves in and reared. Furiously, he drummed his front hooves on the trunk, leaving imprints. His blood savage to protect her, and to kill, he struck the hood until Sheriff Colgan rushed him. Bugling, he leapt down, charging as Pork Belly raised his revolver.

  “No!” He heard her scream, trying to protect him from the bullets.

  Seeing through his blood-red rage, he snaked his neck. His teeth trapped the Sheriff’s forearm, and he crunched down,
then ruthlessly twisted. The gun flew out of Pork Belly’s grip. He grimaced with excruciating pain, and grunted, not yelling because obviously shock had him in its grip. Drojovv head-butted him against the side of the car. Rearing, he attacked with his hooves, pummeling his chest and shoulders until he was utterly cowed.

  Wild with the need to make certain Seneca would never be harmed, Drojovv flailed his hooves around the Sheriff’s upper torso. Both car windows shattered.

  “Get him off me. Get him off me,” Pork Belly pleaded. He clutched at the door handle.

  “He’s not my horse. I don’t know his name,” she shouted. “What the hell do you want me to do? I don’t have a cell phone. I can’t call 911.”

  Drojovv dropped down to his front hooves. His muscles bunched to launch another attack. He eyed his enemy’s upper arm, then threatened with his teeth. Blazing with power, the stench of Sheriff Colgan’s panic pleased him.

  “Shoot him. He’s feral.”

  “And if I miss, hit you with your own gun?”

  “Shit, shoot his ass. I don’t care. Just get him away from me.”

  “Gee, Sheriff, if only I had my own gun.” Her voice cut brutally. “But then you would have tried to shoot me down.”

  Drojovv felt her approach him carefully.

  “Just get him away from me. I’ll leave.”

  “Come here,” she crooned softly. “Come on, big guy.” She moved closer, until she stood near enough to touch him. “You’ve won. I promise.” Very slowly, she reached out, her hand flattening on his neck. “I’m going to take your belt off.” She spoke to the Sheriff. “Don’t move.”

  Drojovv snorted his own command to Pork Belly and pawed once.

  “Okay, yeah, do it.” Sweat poured in rivulets down the side of his blood-drained face.

  Keeping her palm on his neck, she gradually worked the belt free. “Okay, big guy, I’m going to loop this around your neck, and you’re going let me lead you away from here. And if the bad guy makes one wrong move, I’ll let you go.” She stroked him several times, then gently looped the belt around his upper neck.

  Standing still, he watched her look at the Sheriff. “You fucking bastard. If you ever touch one hair on my brother’s head, if you ever come after me again, I will release those vids. If you send anyone else to do your dirty work, I’ll have them released. That’s right, they’re spread all over the country. Anything happens to me, or anyone I care about, they go public. And if you don’t believe me, chew on this, you big fat fucking bastard. I know exactly where you’ve done your disgusting immoral drug deals. Near Eagle Eye Point.”

  Sheriff Colgan’s eyes widened significantly, and his fear odor increased because she spoke the truth about the location. He nodded, slobber escaping from the corners of his mouth.

  “Come on, big guy,” she crooned with utter sweetness. “Let’s go.” She gently pulled on the belt.

  Drojovv allowed her to lead him away and kept his bearing somewhat docile. She halted them about ten feet away, her gaze glued on the Sheriff. He jerked open the car door, practically ripping it from the hinges. Heedless of the shattered glass, he jumped into the seat. It took him several tries to start the engine. Slamming the car into reverse, he backed up like he was in a chase movie and peeled away.

  “Probably won’t be the last I’ll see of him.” Pivoting to him, she softly stroked down the length of his face. “Where did you come from? And what do I do with you? Just let you go? If I do, the evil bastard will probably hunt you down. By the way, thanks for coming to my rescue. I needed it.”

  Drojovv twitched his tail, then gently nudged her with his muzzle.

  “I know I’ve never seen you before. And I’d know if you belonged to my neighbors. They would have called bragging about you. Unless you’ve just arrived. Maybe that’s it. Come on, I’ve got a spare stall for you.”

  She halted suddenly, staring at him. Her gaze fastened on his eyes for a long while. “You look rather alien. You remind me of—”

  He gave a small nod flicking his tail in a friendly manner.

  “Tell me you’re not—”

  Vigorously, Trail shook his head like a big dog shaking off water.

  “No, you couldn’t be.”

  Still, he witnessed the dawning realization in her eyes. With more emphasis, he nodded his head again.

  Her eyes popped open and her jaw dropped for a moment. “Trail?” she whispered loudly. “No...no, you can’t be.” Her heart skipped a beat, then pumped with the speed of the wind. “Are you?”

  Still staring at him, she took a step back. He felt her begin to reel backwards and shoved his muzzle against her solar plexus. He snuffled pleasurably and to keep her focused on him.

  “Good God.” Lifting his muzzle, he kissed her cheek, then lipped her ear. Palming her ear, she studied him intensely. “If you are, follow me.” She let go of the belt, pivoting sharply.

  Drojovv head-butted her jean-clad ass playfully, then followed after her. He hadn’t planned on her discovering his horse form this way. He’d figured on a quietly spoken explanation first. Still, for now, their enemy had been vanquished. And he was with his Mate. He swished his tail triumphantly, walking beside her.

  “Omygawd,” she chanted several times. “I suppose if you can phase, you can,” she swallowed with difficulty, “you can be a horse. An impressive horse. A gorgeous horse.”

  Drojovv arched his neck and pranced.

  “I suppose,” she whirled to him, “you expect me to ride you.” She frowned formidably, her anger a reaction to discovering his ability. “Do you?”

  In answer, he wheeled before her, presenting his back.

  “Oh, fat chance. Go make yourself useful. Bring Chief up to the stable.”

  Deciding his mare needed his cooperation, he swung his head toward her face and muzzle-kissed her lips, then swiftly trotted towards Chief.

  Chief galloped toward him, looking spirited, as if he ran the range free and wild. They didn’t speak mentally. There was no need. Companionably, they ran side-by-side to the stable, Drojovv matching the paint’s stride. Once they entered, they briefly pressed noses, then Chief walked inside his stall.

  Next to his pile of clothes, Drojovv gradually shifted to his human form and concentrated on becoming his human persona on Earth, Trail. After performing a quick psi-search for enemies and finding none, he recalled what he’d learned from his mental scan of Sheriff Colgan. Taking his time pulling on his clothes and boots, he waited for Seneca and strategized a plan for getting the amulets back. Now was the time.

  Hearing her fast-striding march to the stable, he moved to the entrance. Her color ran high. She twisted inside, volatile as a frustrated fire goddess.

  “I do not believe this. I swear I do not believe this,” she ground out over and over. Seeing him, she made a beeline for him, her expression grim, her lips stretched thin with her smoldering emotions.

  “You,” she announced, halting directly before him. “What are you?” She poked his chest a couple of times for emphasis.

  “Heart Mate, Heart Fate.” He spoke the truth, the words used to describe true love, or a true mating in his world.

  “What the hell does that mean?” Her eyes sparked dangerously. Flame soared high on her cheeks.

  “It means I love you.” Not giving her a chance to respond, he slid his fingers beneath the coppery red thickness of her hair and combed upwards, capturing her head gently.

  He watched astonishment claim her core. Her eyes widened to orbs of shining blue sky. Her features appeared to be carved out of alabaster, and her body stilled. Yet her blood rushed fast as a wildfire. “You couldn’t,” she breathed out.

  “I do. I’m in love with you.” He caressed her head with his fingertips and slipped his arm around her waist.

  She shook her head in the negative, slowly at first.

  Trail caught her lips with a soft, but insistent kiss. He tightened his hold, feeling the passionate willingness of her body. Yielding to their kiss, s
he grabbed hold of his neck and kissed him with a fervor that boiled his blood, then stud-raised his shaft. He knew some of her frenzy was relief that he was okay.

  He didn’t care, only caring that she responded to him as if she belonged to him.

  “Dammit,” she whispered as their lips parted.

  In moments, her breaths quaked her little body. He gathered her closer, rocking her tenderly. She melted, draping herself against him. “Seneca.” Her name was his heart for her.

  She clung, letting him rock her, trusting him enough for now. “I suppose there’s no time to discuss this.”

  “No. Sheriff Colgan failed. He’d been instructed to take you in, detain you, so the black ops group working with the Fire Starters could do a complete search of your place. They must believe you have something else they want.”

  She shrugged, a tiny movement. “What?” Her head jerked up, and she dived her hand inside the side pocket of her jeans. “I found this close to the cave entrance where the amulets were. A sliver of mica.” She leaned back, showing it to him in her palm. “It felt like a Shamanic stone. You know, one that calls to you, a talisman.”

  Trail couldn’t stop his swift intake of breath.

  Chapter Nine

  The Portal Key

  “What?” Demand, curiosity, and exasperation owned her one-worded question.

  “It has several functions,” he began. Stepping back, he carefully plucked the silvery oblong stone from her hand.

  “Such as?” She folded her arms watching him inspect what his people had known existed on Earth, but had never discovered. Relic proof of their common ancestry with the Apache people. It was a technology lost to Earth humans, but still common in his world. Still, that wasn’t the relic’s true value.

  “It operates as a key to open any portal on Earth.”

  “Oh.” She huffed out a large breath. “That is big.”

  “Not only that, it can alter body frequencies, adjusting them to the world entered. For some races.”