“Not today,” she whispered to herself. There was stuff that needed to be handled if demons were going to ride into town.
She left her room, closing Remy in to sleep and walking downstairs. She found Easton standing at her stove, already cooking something.
“Why are you up so early?” she asked, stepping closer. She wanted to touch him, but suddenly felt like that took what happened the night before a little too far. She had no claim on the man to touch him however she wanted.
He obviously didn’t think the same thing she did, reaching out to her. He grabbed her hip and pulled her to him. It made her feel small and feminine. He had a foot on her, no doubt. Other than Valen, he was probably the tallest man she’d ever met.
“I don’t sleep, so I decided you deserved breakfast ready when you woke up. I wasn’t expecting you down here so early.” He had a small smile. She couldn’t help but think it was a very sweet thing for him to do. He was supposed to be a simple romp, but here he was making her breakfast like a gentleman and a perfect houseguest, like it would go further, like his manners mattered. “Do you…wear this every morning?”
“Normally,” she confirmed. She didn’t like getting dressed until after she ate and bathed. It was her house.
“I like it,” he murmured, sliding a hand inside. She shivered at his large palm gliding over her side to her lower back. Then it went down and cupped her ass. She had a feeling she could guess what his favorite feature was in a woman. “You’re wrong, kind of.”
“Excuse me?” She frowned at him.
He squeezed her ass. “Not my favorite feature, but close to it.”
“You can read minds,” she realized, sighing heavily. She knew a few who could do that. She should have felt violated, but it was her own fault he could, and it wasn’t like she had any deep dark secrets he could exploit.
“Only when I have skin to skin contact,” he explained. “And I only catch some things that leak through my barriers, since I try to block things out. You should shield your mind.” He tilted his head, as if he was curious why it wasn’t already.
“I’ve fallen out of the habit,” she admitted. At that, she closed her eyes and concentrated. Mental barriers, shielding one’s thoughts, it was about visualization. With her eyes closed, she put the walls up and around her mind, as if her entire mind was walled off from the world like a ball.
“Good job. I’m totally blocked out.” He kissed her cheek. “Now, back to what I was saying. I love a curvy, healthy woman, and yes…” He rubbed her ass more. “I do love a soft, round behind, but I like this more.” He tapped her forehead with his other hand. “I find sniveling women annoying. I find simpering fools to be just that, fools. You have proven to be nothing like most women, just out looking for a mark, husband or otherwise. I like your independence. It’s charming. Probably annoys most men, I’m guessing.”
“It does,” she confirmed, knowing her attitude drove most men insane. “But I’m a witch, not a simpering human girl.”
“Exactly,” he crooned, kissing her lips slowly, like he was relishing the taste of them. His hand massaged her and when he pulled away, the hand didn’t stop. “How do you feel from last night?”
“A little sore, nothing I didn’t expect.”
“Good. I was worried we might have hurt you. We’re both…rougher in bed.” He seemed insecure about it, about how rough he’d fucked her. He had a concerned tone to his voice and a hesitation about him suddenly. Then it was gone, off his face like it was never there. “But you seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.”
“I did,” she whispered as he pulled her closer. She held her breath as he skipped kissing her lips and went for her neck, making a trail to her collarbone, leaning his massive form over to make it work. She tried to back away, since they were in the kitchen and could have Maxwell walk in on them, but he only followed. She backed into the table, and he lifted her, making her sit on it. “We could get-”
“Caught? So?” He chuckled, sliding a hand over her breast. He pulled her robe open more, kissing lower and taking her nipple in his mouth. She moaned and squirmed, but he just held her in place, a sweet torment with a dangerous edge of maybe someone finding them.
He pulled away and she felt dazed. She hadn’t felt so feminine and desired in so long that it was making her act foolish. She knew it.
“I’m going to clean up,” she said, patting his chest.
“I’ll wake up Remy while you’re doing that. Would you like me to get the marshal for breakfast as well?”
She shook her head. She could get him.
“No need.”
Oh, fuck me sideways.
She yanked her robe closed and Easton was across the kitchen in a blink, back at the stove. She scrambled off the table, trying not to look at him.
“Good morning, Maxwell. I’m going to bathe. Easton has kindly decided to make breakfast for us…” She’d never thought this would be awkward. She had certainly not intended it to be. He’d seen her in all sorts of compromising positions.
With my husband. He saw me with my husband, not a bounty hunter he didn’t trust.
She glanced up at his face. It was stoic and unreadable. Not even a touch of red on his cheeks to show he was embarrassed. She hoped he didn’t expect an apology for the sex. She wouldn’t give him one of those.
“Your spell wasn’t fully effective last night,” he told her, his dark brown eyes falling on her. That stare, combined with the fact that he was already impeccably dressed, told her that he had been up for a long time. Or maybe hadn’t slept at all.
She wasn’t going to apologize for the sex, but she would apologize for that. “Apologies. Next time, I’ll make sure to put more power in it.”
“Your house, your decision,” he mumbled, stepping around her to get to the pot of coffee that Easton had already made. “I’m running down to town early to catch everyone before businesses open. If we can shut the town down for a couple of days, it’ll be safer for those who don’t want to be in the middle of everything. My thanks to whoever made the coffee.”
“You’re welcome,” Easton replied kindly. She decided that was her moment to leave the room, and go settle in for a hot morning bath. She normally bathed before sleeping, but a morning bath was just as good, especially with the soreness she had from the night before.
She made it back to the kitchen after dawn, the sun shining on a bright day. It didn’t feel like anything was going to happen, and that almost worried her more than anything else.
Brought this on yourself, Adalyn. Stay light on your feet in case anything happens.
She had to repeat that to herself several times as she sat down in the kitchen, dressed for the day. She chose pants and a loose blouse, with sturdy boots. She even went ahead and got her gun belt on, thinking once she left the house, she wouldn’t be coming back until this was all taken care of.
Unless the demons didn’t show. Possible.
“Look at you,” Remy said, grinning at her from across the table. “No corset?”
“No, just a camisole to…” She narrowed her eyes on him playfully. “You stop thinking whatever you’re thinking.”
“Make me, little witch,” he taunted, leaning over and blowing a kiss at her. Then he settled back again and pointed to Easton, who put a plate of food in front of her, then a cup of coffee. “I was just telling him, the demons won’t make it until nightfall at the earliest. They haven’t even gotten moving since last night, meaning they probably camped through the night. We have the day.”
“You two must be very good at this to be so calm,” she noted, sipping on her coffee.
“We’ve never failed,” Easton said, not sounding arrogant, but certainly confident. “With his ability to track, it’s hard to take us by surprise.”
She liked the confidence, even if she didn’t completely have it. Not in them, but in herself. It was one thing to trick one demon into walking into a trap. It was another to have five riding towards you, looking to hang you u
p from a tree somewhere as a message.
I can’t believe I did this to myself.
She really should have known better than to think her experiment wouldn’t have consequences. Not all of them were bad, she reminded herself as she looked over the two bounty hunters.
“So, the day to ourselves?” she asked.
“I want to see how good your aim is before we get into a firefight. I also want to see what sort of offensive magic you might have.” Easton aimlessly stood by her counter as he spoke. “I’d like to know exactly how you’re going to take care of yourself. I’m not saying you can’t, but it would help me plan.”
“Don’t rely on my magic,” she said quickly. “Wild magic has a tendency to fry. Burn out. Stop working. It’s temperamental. There have been times in my life where I’ve gone days without being able to cast even the simplest spell without it going terribly wrong. Exploding potions and the like.” It normally took something big to knock her and her magic off balance like that, but she didn’t want to make the assumption it would work, especially with so much going on.
“Well, that does make things interesting.” Easton was smiling as he turned away. “Eat. I’m going to set up a shooting range. Remy, clean up for her when she’s done, please.”
“Can do,” Remy said. His eyes stayed on her, like they always were. Always watching her, ready to pounce, ready to claim her. She had a sneaking feeling all she would have to do is ask. “He said you seemed okay. Are you?”
“I am. I promise, sugar.” How could I not be okay after a night like that? It’s still sweet of him to ask, both of them.
“Sugar?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re sweet.”
“Sweet implies good, and I’m not that. But I know who is sweet, and right now, that sounds very good.” He began to stand up, a wolfish grin on his face that she understood well, and she pointed her fork at him.
“You stay in that seat while I eat, sir.” She couldn’t resist smiling and he sat back down, his canines peeking through in his grin.
“Caught me.” He raised his hands in defeat.
She finished eating, keeping her eyes off of him, trying to pretend that the orange stare wasn’t on her. She left her plate on the table and he stood up, beginning to clean. She kissed his cheek and whispered a thank you before leaving him there, grabbing her rifle on the way out. He growled a response, and it sounded sensual, sending shivers up her spine. She had no idea what he said, but it sounded sexy.
She was glad to get out into the sun, the heat warming her skin. She found Easton near her well, in the smaller section of her field. She had fences and a gate built, cutting a small portion off from the rest in case she needed to separate a member of her small herd. He had set up a small table, one she recognized from her barn, and there were several bottles lined up on it. He looked up, then he was suddenly in front of her, causing her to jump in alarm.
“Ready to get started?”
She pointed silently from next to her well to where she was, thirty feet away. She couldn’t bring herself to ask, shocked into silence.
“Ah. Nephilim ability. I really shouldn’t do it too often, but I was feeling a bit lazy.” He seemed so natural about it. She didn’t know much about Nephilim, to be honest. So much depended on who fathered them, Fallen or not, and even then, they weren’t that consistent, getting a hodgepodge of strange abilities that fell into their father’s dominion. No two Nephilim were ever the same. “I saw your Winchester inside. It’s a fine rifle. An 18…”
“Model 1873,” she finished for him. “And I use a Colt M1878 for my sidearm. Before you ask, since most do, no, these were not my husband’s. His guns are locked away since I don’t need them out. These are mine and mine alone.”
“I love a woman who can shoot her own gun,” he said, almost disbelieving and very impressed. She tried her best not to stick her chest out or raise her chin a little in pride. She failed. She was proud of herself, proud that she was something to be reckoned with.
She pulled her Colt first and took aim. She dispensed the glass bottles with ease, except one. She went wide.
“Four out of five is mighty impressive with a revolver at this range.”
“It’s not raw talent. I practiced a lot when I moved out West, and I was taught some valuable lessons by…” She groaned. Spinning the cylinder, she activated her reloading spell. “Maxwell. For a long time, I practiced and William tried to teach me, but it wasn’t until I met Maxwell that anyone could get me to learn to shoot straight.”
“There ain’t nothing wrong with admitting you got some help. You shoot straight now, and that’s all that matters out here.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. He brushed off her insecurity about needing a man to teach her just like that. Other men would have said it was good a man taught her, or some ridiculous thing like that. No, he just made it clear that having help wasn’t a big deal.
“Go set up more,” she ordered.
“Tell me how you just reloaded when I get back,” he retorted, chuckling as he went back out to the table, putting more bottles on it. She waited for him to jog back. She holstered her Colt and took aim with her Winchester. She didn’t miss any this time. She activated the reload spell on it as well and decided to explain it to him.
“When my husband ran out of ammo during a firefight, I decided I didn’t like that. So, all the guns in my house are spelled, along with the ammo, which is why my guns smoke the way they do. There’s a thread between the gun and the box of ammo it uses. As long as I have stock in the right box and I’m not too far from it, it’ll activate and reload my gun. When I go out, I keep the ammo on my horse.”
It had taken her months to figure out. Grueling, hard months. Maxwell had to help, and even he was stumped at several points. She knew he did the same for his own revolver once they had it figured out, and they registered the new spell they created with the Society of Magic, earning themselves a bit of praise at the time.
“It’s ingenious,” he mumbled. She pulled out her Colt for him to look at. The secret to the spell and its success was the runes she and Maxwell had to carve on the weapon, unique for every gun since it was like a list of instructions to reload a specific way. Easton fired off two and she appreciated his aim. Then he spun it, causing the spell to activate. “It doesn’t require you to do it. Could be used against you.”
“Remember how I said my magic could fry? Well, if I can’t use my magic, I need my guns in working order. It’s a necessary evil.” She shrugged. “The spell fades after a time, too. The more it’s used, you know?”
“I think you’ll be fine,” he said, nodding in appreciation at her Colt. “I’m glad you put the time into this. Good for anyone in the West. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve run into someone who couldn’t hit the broad side of their barn. Hell, I had to teach Remy. He didn’t shoot a gun for the first twenty years of his life. He was awful. Still kind of is.”
“That sounds bad,” she replied, laughing. “I was married to the sheriff. I had to know how to protect myself in case someone came back, looking to get some revenge for getting into trouble. If I couldn’t hit a barn, I’d be dead already.”
“You’ve lived a dangerous life, Mrs. Lovett.”
“I still do,” she reminded him primly.
That got her the elusive grin from him, the beautiful, unreserved one. “Yes. Yes, you do.” He touched her waist slowly. “It should be illegal to be as tempting as you are. You probably drive all us men to insanity and that’s why it’s so dangerous.” He ran his thumb over her lower lip. She was locked into the sapphire gaze.
She didn’t have an answer to that. She hadn’t expected this to continue into the next day.
And even though it didn’t help her dangerous situation, she was glad it was still going.
13
Valen
“Run that by me again?” Valen asked Maxwell, nearly dropping the glass he was cleaning. “Why are those bounty hunters here
again?”
“I told you they wanted to scope out Adalyn, but I forgot to mention that it’s because she took a mark they wanted and banished him. Member of the Anzu Gang, and said gang of outlaw demons are now on their way here to…well, get revenge.”
Valen put the glass down slowly, glaring at his friend. Once, there had been a tight knit group that half-ran the town of Redstone: William, Adalyn, Tobias, Valen, and Maxwell. Since William died, it had all fallen apart.
Now, Adalyn’s year to mourn was over and Maxwell was back. It should have been a sign of things returning to somewhat normal.
“She banished a demon? Behind our backs?” he asked softly, putting his hands on the bar. He looked down at his feet, then closed his eyes. The headache was already coming on. “Can’t turn our backs on her for ten minutes without her finding more trouble, that woman.”
“Yes. And she’s sleeping with the bounty hunters now.”
That had him laughing, the headache immediately forgotten. Of course the devushka is. I saw that coming. I did help encourage that before I knew they were bounty hunters. I knew what types of Supes they were but not that they were bounty hunters.
“It’s not funny, Valen.”
“Ah, but it is. She deserves some loving. I don’t care who she gets it from. If they hurt her, we hurt them and everything is normal.” Valen raised his hands, wondering why that was so wrong. “She’s a widow and a witch, Max. You can’t come back here and expect her to be a nun.”
“He’s only been gone for a year…”
“Yes, and for a year she has locked herself away from nearly the entire world. She didn’t come to the saloon, or dance with her lady friends. She honored him. She knows it is time to move on. Do you?” He watched pain flash over his friend’s face, the realization that Maxwell was trying to make her grieve longer than she needed to. That was the end of that. “Now, that is not the problem right now. Demons and Redstone don’t mix. What was she thinking?”
Bounty Hunters and Black Magic Page 10