Sinfully Supernatural

by Multiple

  It was worse than if he’d yelled.

  She shivered. “You mean Wyatt’s angry with you.”

  “He’s right to be angry with me. I shouldn’t have let you go. It was my fault. It won’t happen again.”

  “As if you could have stopped me.” Scarlett slapped his hand away from her hair and rolling to her feet. “I’m not a child.”

  Cody bounced to his own feet, forcing Scarlett to look up at him. Like Sam, he was tall, but his build was leaner muscle, sleek, like the wolf he could become. “You aren’t a child and that’s the problem.” Cody growled, pacing towards her.

  Flames flickered around Scarlett’s fingers as she dodged out of his reach. “Then stop treating me like a child.”

  The chill air steamed around them.

  “The last thing I want to do is treat you like a child,” Cody’s low words cut through her temper. He took advantage of her surprise and wrapped his arms around her. She extinguished the flames as her hands impacted the hard wall of muscle that made up his chest.

  She didn’t want to hurt him.

  “Cody?” Uncertainty flickered in her breast.

  He bent his head down and touched his lips to hers, whispering. “I know you’re not a child.”

  No.

  No.

  No.

  Scarlett’s mind scrambled. Cody’s lips pressed against hers in unwelcome invitation. Fisting her hands, she struck him hard once, then twice. Heat scorched through her skin and Cody released her abruptly, yelping.

  He clapped a hand to his mouth, the yellow in his eyes bleeding away to blue. Fire raced over her skin, the grass around her feet wilted to yellow and then blasted over, felled by the heat. Rocks along the lake edge popped and sizzled. The mare lifted her head and screamed alarm as smoke from Scarlett’s shirt began to billow.

  Cody rushed forward and shoved her, full body into the icy water. The slap of cold shocked her and the flames went out. Scarlett splashed up, spitting water out of her mouth, her hair soaked hair clung to her and her shirt lay in tatters against her bare chest, barely decent.

  She stared at her brother. Blisters stung the skin around his mouth and across his chest were splashes of red, burns inflicted by the pounding of her fists. Her fury evaporated.

  “Cody…”

  But it was too late, he abandoned her to wade back to the shore. Her teeth chattered as the cold seeped into her skin, flushing the last of the fire from her ravaged soul. She’d burned Cody.

  Oh God. She’d burned him.

  She scrambled up onto the shore, but her headlong race to follow him paused when Quanto stepped out from behind a tree. His long, feathery silver hair caught the sun’s early light. The aged wisdom in his face carried only kindness. He held up a hand, the mottled flesh a testament to Scarlett’s loss of control as a child.

  “Let him go, child. It is a hard lesson to learn, but one he needs.”

  “I hurt him, Father.”

  “He will heal. His wolf is strong.” Quanto paused to stroke a hand over Dawn’s neck, soothing the startled animal.

  “I didn’t mean—I mean—” Scarlett’s heart tripped.

  “Shh, child. Your brother needs to learn that he is your brother. But the wolf holds him too close and sees you as more than a sister and has for too long now.” Quanto’s gentle smile didn’t ease the harsh reality of his words. Cody didn’t see her as a sister. She’d known he’d been acting differently for a while, but…

  Ice crawled around her heart, squeezing it. She sat down abruptly, barely aware of the lake water slapping against her bare feet.

  Cody.

  “Tell me about your Marshal.” The command was kind, but unmistakable. He walked down to the lakeside and draped a simple blanket over her shoulders before dropping to sit in Cody’s abandoned place. He drew his legs up, the suppleness of his posture belying his great age.

  “How did you know?”

  “You have dreamed of no one else, Scarlett. How could I not know?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  It was late on the fourteenth day of their hunt when Kid held up his hand, slowing their progress. They’d entered the mountains two days before, riding a circuitous route through passes neither Sam nor Micah had even noticed, but Kid discovered with seeming little effort. Sam studied his youngest brother, since confessing about the wolf, the tension between them had eased. He was still angry with Kid for helping Scarlett get away, angrier still that they’d lost days on their trail because of it, but he almost understood why.

  “They’re close.” Kid said quietly, motioning to the trail that angled upwards, disappearing into the cool, dark green pines.

  “You sure?” Micah asked, tipping his hat back to look upwards. The mountains stretched up towards the heavens, sleeping behemoths that dared a man’s soul.

  “As sure as I can be.” Kid shrugged, pulling off his own hat to scrub a hand over his face. They were all shaggy now, bearded and likely unfit for fine company although Sam had long since stopped noticing the smell of unwashed bodies. A dip in the stream was refreshing, but they’d run out of clean clothes and they smelled more of sweat and horse than verbena and soap.

  Sam stood in the saddle, stretching his tired legs and aching back as he strained to get a better view of the mountainside. The sun had already slipped behind the mountains, leaving long shadows to fall over the valley they rode through.

  “We should make camp for the night,” Micah dropped his hat onto the pommel of his saddle. “There’s no telling how many switchbacks we’ll have to follow on our way up and I’d rather do that in the light of day.”

  A fresh wave of frustration squeezing his guts, Sam agreed. “Wood. Horses. Water.” Sam pointed first to Kid, then Micah and finally himself. Ten straight nights of camping together and they traded the chores of setting up camp easily. He dismounted; passing his reins to Micah and gathering both brothers water skins.

  Fortunately, the mountains boasted of a large number of streams and rock pools with crystal clear, ice-cold water from the snow melt above. It was a respite from the arid heat and blistering sun they’d left behind. They’d picket the horses near the fire and pull water to them, avoiding predators who liked to visit watering holes at night.

  Water skins slung over his shoulder, Sam tested the air and followed the rich scent of moisture. He unclipped the strap over his gun, freeing it to be drawn as needed. Brush and bushes hugged the forest floor in and around the thick trees, but fat root systems created makeshift paths. Sam just followed the roots to the water, he could hear trickling as well as scent.

  It was full dusk when he knelt down at the water’s edge. Cupping a chilly handful, he tasted it. Fresh, clean and without a hint of brackishness. He filled the water skins to near bursting before shoving his face into the water, rinsing away a day’s worth of sweat and grime. He combed the wet hair back from his hair and rolled his palm down his face.

  They might make a bath out of this camp yet. He dipped both hands into the water, pulling them up for another drink and watched the shadows. No night birds called. No day birds trilled as they settled in. No tiny feet scrabbled the landscape as the smaller animals ventured out to hunt or gather.

  The woods were silent, save for the trickle of water. He couldn’t even hear Kid or Micah. Sam scrubbed damp hands through his hair and eased back his coat. The weight of the pistol’s pearl handle was warm against his palm. He stood slowly, drawing the gun during the upward motion.

  And waited.

  “Marshal, you should put that away before Jimmy takes offense.”

  Sam wasn’t surprised to see the young man step out into the clearing on the opposite side of the low stream. His skin was darker, his hair jet-black and his nose a single, aquiline slash. Sam noted three things about him. He wasn’t armed, his hands were in his pockets and he was Indian.

  “I’d listen to Buck, Marshal.” A second voice joined the first, only it came from directly
behind him and included the hard barrel of a gun poking him once in the ribs. “He doesn’t really want to shoot you.”

  “But you don’t mind?” Not turning, Sam kept his gaze on the Indian male. It was too dark to make out finer features. He was likely Comanche or Apache.

  “Nope. I don’t mind at all.”

  The cold ease present in the statement eased Sam’s fingers away from the trigger. Micah and Kid would come looking when he didn’t return, so all he had to do was stall. He slid the gun back into the holster rather than surrender it.

  “Now what?”

  “Now,” the one called Buck grinned. “We talk.”

  Gun urging him forward, Sam made his way to the rocks tripping across the stream. It was too shallow to do more than cover the tops of his boots as he splashed across. Jimmy herded him along, gun barrel jabbing him every time he slowed to press his way through the brush. Unlike Buck, Sam cracked branches and stirred leaves with every step.

  Yellow warmth flashed in the dark as they emptied out into a clearing, a campfire burning merrily. The smell of roasting rabbits was enough to make his mouth water and his stomach rumble in agreement. They’d been dining on hard tack and the occasional fish. Three rabbits spitted out over the fire glowed a merrily, sizzling and popping over the heat.

  And they weren’t alone.

  Three more men were scattered around the camp, Sam scanned each one, noting the bald black man working a length of rope around from elbow to hand, a brown haired boy who looked to be just barely older than Kid, but lacked his strappier build and a third, silent figure who was at least Sam’s age if not older. The shadows around that one were darker, more sinister and he stood the furthest away from the fire.

  He was the one to watch.

  “Where are his brothers?”

  “Cody and Ike are getting them.” The black man called, tying off the newly looped rope and pointing to the opposite side of the clearing where Micah and Kid entered, both were bound and Micah sported a fresh mark on his face. His gaze spit fury.

  “I told you not to hurt them.” The quiet man’s words rippled over Sam’s soul, a freak storm of thunder and ice in the midst of summer. He suppressed a shiver and only the gun barrel poking his ribs kept him from backing up.

  “He’ll live.” The blond shrugged, the skin around his mouth puckered and angry looking. “And next time I tell him to drop the gun, maybe he will.”

  Sam glanced at Kid, but his younger brother was staring at the blond man, a quizzical look on his face. If he was bothered by their capture, it didn’t show.

  Their captors herded Kid and Micah over to Sam.

  “Untie them.” The cold voice instructed. Sam could wish that one would stop speaking. It made him think of half-forgotten nightmares. The blond started forward, but one motion of the cold one’s hand and he paused. Sam frowned, meeting the yellow eyes in the dark.

  They weren’t yellow from the fire.

  He’d seen those eyes before.

  Understanding blasted him. Kid recognized those eyes, too.

  The blond one was the wolf.

  Ignoring the gun, he lunged towards him. “Where is she?”

  “Oh hell.” Buck let out the oath, but the blond was already plowing into Sam. Sam blocked his first blow, the force of it vibrating the bones in his forearm. He cut his left fist up into an uppercut that just grazed the blond’s chin.

  A flurry of fists, blocks and head bashes left Sam aching even as the rest waded between them. Sam found himself hurtled backwards, his boot managing to kick the blond square in the stomach. The man went down briefly, but lunged back, the fire enhancing the fury in his face as he launched at Sam. The cold one was suddenly between them. Sam couldn’t see his face, but whatever the blond saw dropped him to his knees. Straining against his captors, Sam twisted to see his frustrated fury mirrored in the rictus of agony on the blond’s face. He held up a hand, surrendering and Sam let the others drag him back to the other side of the fire. He landed next to Micah in the dust and didn’t argue when his gun was plucked away.

  The one called Jimmy tipped his hat with a grin. Adding the pilfered pistol to the three he already wore.

  The copper flavor of blood welled inside his mouth. One of the blows had managed to cut his cheek, inside and out. The tension abated as the cold one retreated back to the shadows along the edge of the fire circle. The blond stayed where he knelt, his hands on his knees, breathing harsh.

  “You got more balls than brains.” The brown haired youth enthused, his expression a wild mixture of glee and awe.

  “Shut up, Rudy.” Jimmy took a position up to Sam’s left while the bald black and Buck circled behind and to the right of his brothers.

  Rudy.

  Ignoring him, the younger man motioned to the fire. “Food will be ready shortly.”

  “You left your sister.” Sam’s words struck their mark. Rudy’s face mottled with shame and guilt.

  “You trying to get us killed?” Micah swayed towards him, his words a whispered admonishment.

  “Nope. Just getting the lay of the land for brothers who take their sister with them to rob banks and then leave her behind.”

  Rigid silence choked the men around him.

  “Be careful, Marshal Kane.” The cold tones wrapped like a fist of skeletal fingers around his heart. The bitter sense of fear edged at his frustration. Kid made a strangled noise, dragging Sam’s attention from the shadow man. His younger brother’s eyes were the size of saucers against the pallor of his skin.

  “I said they weren’t supposed to hurt you, not that they wouldn’t.” The cold man continued.

  “What do you want?” Sam demanded, more irritated by the cold fear threatening his bowels. “And where is Scarlett?”

  A growl rumbled across the clearing. Sam spared the blond a look, but despite the hatred twisting his features, the man stayed kneeling. Jimmy edged closer and knelt down, his voice low and slow. “Marshal, stop pissing on Cody before I just shoot you myself.”

  Cody.

  That was four names. He would get the rest. Sam shot Jimmy a bland look. Cody was the wolf. Rudy the one who could move through walls. It didn’t make much sense, but he knew both were true. Scarlett mentioned they were all gifted.

  Gifted or cursed.

  He wasn’t sure about Buck or Jimmy. Seven brothers. Wolf boy—Cody was the one that took her off the ranch. Only six were with her. Sam let his gaze return to the cold man keeping his distance. That one wasn’t with her. Sam was sure of it.

  “Feed them.” The cold one ordered and motioned to Cody who glared at Sam for a long moment before rising to follow the dark man out of the clearing. Sam stared after them.

  The rabbits were removed from the spits and cut, pieces of meat were tossed onto hard metal plates and passed first to Kid, then Micah and finally Sam. Sam ignored his plate.

  The men milling the clearing were watchful and aware, but they weren’t a threat. The threat had walked off into the darkness and Sam waited. Would they bring Scarlett back? Was this her way of getting even with him?

  Did she even know he was here?

  He didn’t think she would, with the exception of the log to the side of his head, she’d been nothing but gentle and kind. Well, that and the kick. Her care with the horse had been sweet and her air of gentle respect around his father all spoke of a kind spirit, a sweet one.

  So where the hell was she?

  “You going to eat that?” Micah nudged him and pointed to Sam’s still full plate.

  “Help yourself.” He wasn’t hungry and Micah didn’t need to be told twice. He snatched up the plate and added a few pieces to Kid’s empty plate as well. Sam spared his brothers a dry look.

  “Think they play cards?” Micah asked around a mouthful.

  Sam sighed.

  Dawn was still a ways off when Jimmy touched Sam’s shoulder. Sam opened his eyes. He sat up and glanced at his brothers, the pair wer
e snoring away, but Kid’s brows were drawn together in a frown, as if he’d found trouble even in his dreams.

  “What?” Sleep may have eluded him, but he’d taken advantage of the rest, watching for a momentary break in the gang’s vigilance, but none had presented itself.

  “Quanto wants to speak to you.”

  Quanto.

  Scarlett’s father.

  Sam rose, ignoring the aches and complaints of his body. He glanced around the campsite, the fire was banked, but wood was set close by, ready to feed it back up as needed. Their captors were sitting or leaning at various points, with Sam and his brothers secured in the center.

  “Come on.” Jimmy jerked his head towards the path Cody and the cold one had disappeared up. Neither had returned.

  Hesitating, Sam looked at his brothers. He couldn’t just leave them.

  “They’ll be fine, Marshal. Quanto doesn’t want anyone hurt. They won’t even know you’re gone.” Jimmy didn’t elaborate, but he did make an impatient noise when Sam lingered. None of the Kanes were heavy sleepers on the trail, but his brothers didn’t budge.

  It was probably some other damn gift.

  Sam jammed his hat onto his head and followed Jimmy. Maybe this Quanto would give him some answers.

  Or at least tell him if Scarlett was all right.

  The others didn’t follow, leaving Sam alone with Jimmy. The trail was dark, but once they were clear of the brush, he could make it out clearly. The moon was high, turning the landscape a painted silver. It was a fifteen-minute walk to where an older man, his hair practically glowing under the moonlight squatted next to another fire.

  Sam could practically feel his gaze roving over him, cool and assessing. He touched the rim of his hat, a polite salute and paused a few steps from the fire.

  “Marshal Kane. Quanto. Father. Marshal Kane.” The sarcastic edge to Jimmy’s voice dulled with polite respect.

  “Marshal Kane. Please. Sit.” The man was definitely an Indian. The firelight played over flat, broad face with a similarly aquiline nose to the one called Buck. He looked nothing like Scarlett. In fact, he shared a resemblance with none of her brothers save the one called Buck.