Railroad! Collection 2 (The Three Volume Omnibus)

by Tonia Brown

  “I have a favor to ask of you,” Michael said.

  “Then ask,” Lelanea said.

  Michael stood and crossed the room, coming very close to the window beneath which Dodger hid. Thankfully, instead of looking down at the now-crouching Dodger, the native turned his eyes up to the sliver of moon hanging in the sky. “I’m afraid it’s a bit embarrassing.”

  “After all we’ve talked about, now you’re shy?”

  The big man blurted out, sort of all at once, “I’d like to see you in the natural.”

  Dodger’s heart leaped into his throat. Was the man asking her what Dodger thought he was asking her? How dare he? Well, it was obvious that he didn’t know Miss Lelanea at all. No one talked to her like that.

  “Michael Walking Bear,” Lelanea said. “Are you asking me what I think you’re asking me?”

  Michael turned to her again with a nod. The lad was in for it now. There was no way the little lady would let a comment like that slide without repercussions. Dodger eased up again to watch the coming fight.

  “You know I can’t do that,” Lelanea said with an understanding smile.

  Dodger gave a small grunt of surprise. This he didn’t expect. There was no anger in her voice. No rage in her eyes. Just a soft smile and gentle denial.

  “I’ll do it for you,” Michael said.

  Instead of slapping the man silly, Lelanea sighed. “You don’t want that either.”

  “I do. I really do. Please. It’s been so long since I’ve been that way with anyone-”

  “Me too, but it’s not that easy. You know it’s not.”

  Michael drew near to her again, standing over her, lowering his voice to a husky whisper as he asked, “Are you afraid?”

  “Of course not.”

  But even Dodger could hear the fear in her answer.

  “Are you worried you might give in?” Michael asked. He ran his hands through her hair, sliding his fingers to the ends of her auburn locks. “You claim to be in control, but are you? Or are you afraid of those primal urges? That you’ll enjoy it too much and never want to go back?”

  “Yes,” Lelanea whispered and shuddered under his touch.

  A pair of matching growls rolled across the room, and the sound of it raised the hair on the back of Dodger’s neck. There was something base and feral in those growls. Something wild and untamed.

  “Please, Lelanea,” Michael begged as he growled. “I want to enjoy you as we are both meant to be. To run with you under the moon. Roll in the grass. Maybe chase a deer or two. That’s all. I promise.”

  Now, Dodger had been around the world and back again, and never in all of his days of seduction and mutual satisfaction with numerous partners had he ever heard anyone describe the act of making love with such colorful euphemisms. He knew it wasn’t the native blood controlling the lad’s tongue, because Dodger had experienced a tribal lover once before—the gorgeous daughter of a chieftain, with eyes of chestnut and skin so deep and dark that Dodger’s flesh looked fish-belly white when pressed against hers.

  “I can’t,” Lelanea whispered. “I would love nothing more than to stay here and be … like that. But I can’t. I have responsibilities. Hieronymus needs me.”

  Michael’s shoulders slumped. “I understand.” With his words, the tension of the moment—both sexual and feral—snapped, rebounded and relaxed.

  “Thank you,” Lelanea said. “Both for the offer and for understanding.”

  “You can’t blame me for trying,” Michael said.

  “No. And I won’t.” Lelanea cleared her throat as she stood. “I should probably be getting back.”

  “You can’t stay a bit longer?”

  “No. If I know Dodger, he’s tearing the camp apart looking for me.”

  “Then you two are together?”

  Dodger clung to that question, between heartbeats, hungry for her answer.

  “No,” she said, almost embarrassingly quickly, following this with her musical laugh. “My word, no. No, no, no, no.”

  Beneath her plethora of denials, Dodger closed his eyes in defeat. It was a question he was hoping to ask her, and to hear the answer in this manner made him nauseated with shame. There was no use hanging back in the shadows. He was man enough to admit when he was beat. And the native certainly beat him to her heart.

  Until she spoke again, saying something that lit his world with joy.

  “At least not yet,” she said.

  Michael chuckled. “So there is hope for love?”

  “Love? I’m not in the market for love right now. But if I ever am, he’s at the top of my list.”

  Hosannas and hallelujahs! Dodger almost cut a flip and shouted and danced and sang. Almost. First he had to sneak away from the window before they caught him peeping like some jealous little boy. Just as he was prepared to slip away, the distinct sound of an approaching horse reached his ears. Dodger crouched low into the shadows of the house as the horse raced almost atop the gate before drawing to a whinnying stop. The rider dismounted and ran up to the porch. There, a man with hair almost as red as his rage pounded on the door, screaming for the owner of the house to come outside.

  “Michael!” Douglas cried. “Open up!”

  “Go away,” Michael said.

  Douglas wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Let me in, Michael. Either let me in, or I’ll let myself in! We need to talk.”

  “There’s nothing more to talk about.”

  The redhead laid into the door with his shoulder, shoving his weight against the thin wood over and over, with every intention of bursting inside.

  “Don’t you dare break down my door,” Michael warned.

  “Then open it, God damn it!” Doug said.

  There was a long pause, during which Dodger assumed Michael was discussing this quietly with Lelanea. Eventually, the native opened the door wide to the intruder. Douglas barged inside the house, and there came another pause in the action. Dodger, unable to resist the unfolding drama, peered over the windowsill once more.

  There he saw Douglas staring at Lelanea in shock.

  “She’s from that train,” Douglas said. “What is she doing here?”

  “She’s just here on a friendly visit,” Michael said.

  “A friendly visit? In the middle of the night?” Doug sucked his teeth as he connected the dots of his own pattern. “I see. I get it. I know what’s going on here.”

  Michael shook his head at the man. “Nothing’s going on here.”

  “I was actually just leaving,” Lelanea said.

  “No!” Doug yelled. “No. Don’t leave on my account. Please, be my guest. He’s all yours.” Douglas whipped about and stomped toward the open door.

  “Doug, please,” Michael said as he grabbed the redhead by the arm and held him still. “It’s not like that.”

  The redhead, close to tears now, jerked his arm free and spun about again. “Then what is it like? Huh? Can you tell me what it’s like? Because I don’t know anymore!”

  “Let me explain.”

  “No! You won’t talk your way out of this one.” Doug stepped up to meet the larger man, chest to chest. (Well, upturned face to chest in this case.) “So tell me, Mr. Walking Bear. If it isn’t like that, then what is it like?”

  Michael looked to Lelanea, who in turn looked to the floor. Michael followed her glance, taking a step back to stare at his big bare feet, rather than face the angry young man.

  A new understanding dawned upon Douglas. A real understanding. Something different from the snap judgment the man made when he first burst into the room. With a trembling lip, the young man backed away from Michael and whispered, “Oh my God.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Michael said. “I wanted to introduce you, but I knew what you would think.”

  “Then she’s like you?”

  Lelanea gave a small gasp of surprise as she eyed Michael.

  Dodger was more confused than ever.

  “It’s all right, Lelanea,” Michael said. “H
e knows all about me.”

  “Of course I know,” Doug snapped. “I know everything about him. Everything. And if she and her friends hadn’t showed up, everyone else would know everything about you by now.”

  Michael didn’t seem troubled by this. It was as if he had expected it. “Is that why you killed your Lilly?”

  “Yes!” Tears broke from the redhead’s swollen eyes, tracing lines of wet frustration down his quivering cheeks. “I was trying to get Pitch to arrest you and keep you in the jailhouse overnight so maybe everyone would finally figure out what you really are.”

  “Why, Doug? I showed you what I am because I thought I could trust you. Why would you want to expose me like that?”

  “Because I thought if everyone knew, then it wouldn’t matter anymore. I thought if everyone knew what you were, then you wouldn’t have any excuses left.” The tears were fast and furious now, pouring from the young man almost as hot as his words.

  Michael drew closer to Doug, closing the space between them as he lowered his voice to a soft, soothing trill. “It’s all right, Doug. Please don’t cry.” He tried to take the man into his arms for a comforting hug, but Doug wasn’t ready for that.

  The redhead darted back with a quick step. “Don’t touch me.”

  “I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

  Doug glanced to Lelanea, his tears ceasing as he shot her a hate-filled look. “He didn’t mean it, and that makes it all better?”

  “I’m sorry,” Lelanea said.

  “So am I.” Doug yanked his shirt tail free from his trousers and pulled out a sizable pistol from the band of his pants. The metallic clack of the hammer filled the air as he set the thing and leveled it at Lelanea.

  Lelanea raised her hands before her, slowly, to show the man she meant no harm.

  At the sight of the weapon, Dodger slid his pair of guns from free their holsters, but experience forced him to maintain his position. There was no use going in guns a-blazin’ in such small quarters. He had to pick the right moment to spring. The right moment to fight.

  “Doug,” Michael said. “Put that down. You know it won’t do any good anyway.”

  “And why wouldn’t it?” Doug asked. He waggled the weapon. “I have the right ammunition.”

  Lelanea closed her eyes with a groan.

  “See?” Doug asked as he tightened his grip on the gun and his aim on her. “He taught me well.”

  “I didn’t teach you this,” Michael snarled. And the man really did snarl too. His voice had the undercurrent of an animalistic growl.

  “You taught me that I can’t live without you. And if I can’t have you, no one will.”

  “Doug, please. Don’t do this-”

  “Then stop me!”

  Michael hesitated as if weighing the option.

  “Come on, then,” Doug said. “Treat me like the prey I always was, and take me down!”

  “I know what you want,” Michael said. “And you know I can’t do that.”

  “Then you’re going to have to kill me.”

  Another drawn-out pause in the argument as the men stared at one another in silence. What kind of drama was playing out here? Were they friends or foes? Because from where Dodger stood, they bickered like a pair of … oh.

  “Either attack me or kill me,” Doug said as the tears began to run free again. “Because I can’t live without you. I love you, Michael. I will never stop loving you just because you stopped loving me.”

  Well, then. That settled any doubt. Dodger may have been a bit late to the station, but at least he was aboard before the train took off. Surprised, but on board. The men were lovers, which explained quite a bit. Dodger hadn’t expected that. Not that he hadn’t seen such things before, but one had to admit the pairing here was a bit odd. This also wasn’t the first time that Dodger had seen a pair of star-crossed lovers end up at each other’s throats. It was just a shame that Lelanea had been thrown into the mix.

  Wait up, now. Doug had claimed that she was ‘like’ Michael.

  Did that mean she was also … oh.

  Dodger reckoned that explained an awful lot too.

  “I never stopped,” Michael said. “Don’t you understand that?”

  “No, I don’t,” Doug said. The gun wavered, and lowered, just a bit.

  “It is torture, Douglas. This kind of life is pure torture. I won’t make you suffer too.”

  “This isn’t suffering? Being without you isn’t torture?” Doug snorted. “Of course it isn’t. Not for you. You have her now.” Doug once again returned his attention to Lelanea, straightening his aim.

  “Doug, I told you the truth. I just invited her here to talk.”

  “It’s true,” Lelanea said. “I’m not here to stay, Doug. I have my own family.”

  “You shut up!” Doug cried. “Both of you! Shut up!” The kid grabbed a handful of his hair with his free hand. “I need to think. Just be quiet.”

  Dodger took this as his cue. The redhead was distracted enough to loosen his grip on the pistol. If Dodger aimed just right, he might land a good shot on the kid, but it would be hard to do so without killing him, considering the guns were set to triple threat. He couldn’t dial them down without making too much noise. Staring over the bridge of Florence, Dodger drew a deep breath, aimed and braced himself to fire.

  Don’t fire, Boon whispered in Dodger’s mind.

  Dodger winced. Boon! What a time for the spirit to show up. A million questions leaped to his lips, but he kept his silence.

  I know I’ve been gone. But you need to distract the lad.

  Dodger narrowed his eyes. What did the ghost mean by distract?

  Distract the lad, and the others will follow your cue and take care of the rest.

  Dodger wavered, unsure what the ghost was getting at.

  He is bluffing. He won’t really shoot her. I can sense it. You have to trust me.

  Trust him? This coming from the same spirit who was blackmailing him into silence? Then again, if Dodger began firing into that room, there was no telling what would happen when the bullets started to fly.

  Against his better judgment, he lowered his gun and said, “Douglas.”

  Things happened pretty quickly after that.

  ****

  back to toc

  ****

  Chapter Ten

  Good for the Soul

  In which Dodger deals in truths

  The instant his name was spoken, Douglas spun about to face Dodger through the open window. Once his eyes connected with Dodger’s, the look on the poor man’s face was priceless: a comical mix of surprise, fear and absolute loathing.

  “You!” Doug shouted, spitting the word with such venom that Dodger didn’t know whether to feel flattered or insulted. But more importantly, when he shifted to stare at Dodger, the man lost his aim on Lelanea.

  The native saw this too and made his move. He leaped into the air and landed square against Doug, knocking them both to the floor. Only when Michael hit the wooden slats, he wasn’t so much man as animal. And not in some metaphorical way. Not just some angry feller snarling and growling over what he considered inappropriate conduct from his lover. No. He was animal, as in fur and teeth and claw and tail.

  Mid-leap, Michael shifted … into something else.

  It all happened between blinks. Dodger’s blinks in this case. He kept closing his eyes, because every time he opened them, he wasn’t sure just what he was seeing. Blink. The native’s face sprouted a layer of gray fuzz. Blink. His mouth elongated into a snout, complete with sharp and menacing fangs. Blink. Hands transformed into paws. Blink. Clothes burst at the seams, revealing rippling hindquarters and broadening shoulders. Blink. Man. Blink. Animal.

  And all of this happened not just to the rhythm of Dodger’s confused blinking, but also to the tune of a terrible scream—pain mixed with torment, tinged with frustration and boiling over with outright rage. When it was over, where there should have been a six-and-a-half-foot Native American l
ying across the squirming redhead, there now stood a huge wolf.

  The wolf lowered its muzzle to the cowering man and shouted, “I love you, damn it! That’s why I can’t change you! Why can’t you accept that?”

  Yes. It spoke.

  As if it weren’t bad enough to watch a man turn into a wolf, to hear the thing speak, to see its lips curl around those terrible fangs, to hear the combination of snarl and words, human and animal … it was all too much. The world blurred to a tunnel of confused darkness as Dodger’s consciousness threatened to collapse under the weight of what he had just witnessed. Half of his mind pushed it away, deciding that what he had seen was too unreal. No way. No how. It didn’t happen. The other half of his mind snapped, knowing he had just witnessed something that was never meant to be seen by the eyes of man, and the knowledge of it was going to drive him insane. But under all of this, behind it, inside of it, there came a familiar voice.

  “Keep it together, sugar.”

  That voice. This was just silly, it really was, but he would’ve bet his next month’s pay that the voice belonged to Rebecca of the Forsaken. That it was the voice of a vampire. Vampire? Yes, he remembered now. He had dealt with vampires. And jackals. And mutated dog men. And a ghost. And a … well … whatever Ched was.

  Why should this be so hard to accept?

  Be strong, my friend. You can accept this. You must, if you wish to protect her.

  That was Boon. What good was the advice of a dead man?

  “Keep it together, Dodger.”

  Now that sounded like Lelanea. Someone snapped in his ear, then patted him on the face. The smell of spring rain filled his nostrils.

  “Dodger,” Lelanea said. “Stay with me.”

  Dodger blinked as his world came back into focus. And there she was. His world. Lelanea Dittmeyer leaning out the open window to make sure he wasn’t losing his tiny mind.

  “What’s with him?” Michael asked, his human voice still rumbling with the throaty growl of the beast.