Bounty Hunters and Black Magic

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Bounty Hunters and Black Magic Page 18

by Kristen Banet


  “What was that sound?” the one at her door said, nearly shouting it. “Witch?”

  The door swung open as she was nearly out.

  “She’s trying to run!” he roared. She fell out the window before the hands reaching after her had a chance to grab her. She was on the dirt looking up at a very angry demon for a long second. “Don’t even.”

  She didn’t say anything back. She could hear all of them running, and she didn’t spare another moment. She got up and starting hauling ass around the house to the horses. When she hit the front lawn, a gunshot made the dirt explode next to her.

  She ducked behind the horses and untied the first one she got to. She saw a hunting knife sticking out of the pack and grinned.

  She swung up and pulled the knife. The demons were running for her now, reloading their guns as they approached. She didn’t hold the reins, using her thighs to stay on the horse.

  She cut the leads of the other horses with one hand as she glared at the leader and sent a blast of magic at him with the other. It sent him onto his back. She didn’t have the time to do anything more careful or destructive. She just needed fewer demons shooting at her. The horses were already spooked by the gunfire and her explosive magic helped nothing. They bolted as she controlled the one she had jumped on, finally grabbing the reins. She slammed her heels into its sides and it flew, taking off at a breakneck speed, guns still going off behind her.

  This time she did glance back. Two were trying to grab their horses while two were shooting at her. She cursed as one of those bullets sliced across her ribs. That convinced her to look straight ahead again and focus.

  She kept the horse moving fast, but she could hear them following already, still firing on her. She turned slightly, shifting her trajectory. She needed to make sure she was going true north and back towards Redstone. She could find back up there.

  Then her horse went down. It was hit. One of her legs got trapped and pain screamed up her side when it fell.

  She felt bad. She loved horses, but she couldn’t let the dead weight hold her there. Using a strong rush of power, she levitated the horse just enough for her to pull her leg out.

  She turned back and saw the demons. She flung out her hand again, causing an explosion in the dirt in front of them and began to run. They were in a hilly, rocky, arid area. She knew there would be caves around; she just needed to find one.

  She kept kicking up dirt and dust with her magic, hoping beyond all hope it screwed up their aim. It seemed to be working, since they kept missing her. Shots whizzed by her, kicking up even more dirt, only helping her cause.

  Then she saw it. Exactly what she was looking for. An abandoned mine shaft. They were everywhere in the West. She jumped into it and turned to see the demons hauling ass to her. She screamed the warding spell, both her hands outstretched. It would stop anything Hell-Touched from entering, and that included them. Then she ran deeper in, but not far. She heard the horses neigh and the demons yell.

  She took one peek outside and grinned. Their horses had run into the wards, unhindered, leaving their riders in the dirt, trying to get up. Two of them must have doubled up on a horse, since they had landed in a heap.

  The leader was the first back on his feet. His eyes met hers, glaring daggers. She pulled her head back in as a shot was fired. The wards didn’t stop bullets, only bodies. She could hear the other two trying to call back their horses. She didn’t dare try and look out of the mine again. She let her back hit the rock and dirt wall and slid down, sitting so she could catch her breath.

  All right, Adalyn. You’ve escaped one prison and accidentally gotten yourself stuck in another. But at least you aren’t completely at their mercy anymore.

  She rubbed her face and warded off the mine shaft on the other side of her as well. Who knew what could be hiding deeper inside. She didn’t want to find out what sort of nasties had caused this particular mine to be abandoned. Maybe a wendigo. Maybe something worse.

  She panted, the adrenaline starting to wear off. She’d done it. She’d escaped.

  Kind of. Now I need to get out of this fucking death trap. I wasn’t expecting them to shoot the poor fucking horse. Who shoots a horse? It’s cruel.

  I need another plan.

  She considered her even more limited options. She was hiding out, and not very well, in a mine shaft that could prove to be more dangerous than the demons. She probably didn’t even make it very far from the farmhouse. Now the demons were pissed off, too. If they somehow found a way through her wards, they were going to make her life hell. There would be no sleeping now, that was certain. But I have my magic. That definitely levels the playing field.

  She took a glance back outside. They were huddled together, probably talking about how to flush her out. She noted only some shrubs around. There was no other cover.

  “I don’t know an invisibility spell,” she mumbled to herself. “Should learn one. That would be a great idea, in hindsight.”

  She tried to stand, to get a better look around. The idea of moving made her hurt. She looked down at her leg and groaned. The horse going down on her had given her a painful, bleeding rash, and the bruising was already showing up. Her ribs stung from the graze. She touched it and felt the warm blood.

  Oh. She was bleeding. She’d lost the hunting knife in the fall, but if she was already bleeding…

  She pulled her hand away and looked down at it. It would be enough. She had her idea.

  She began drawing the pentagram in the dirt, far enough away from the door where they couldn’t see her. It was also much bigger than the one she had done before. The previous one had been for one demon. This one had to fit four. She didn’t even know if she was strong enough to activate a circle so big, but she had to try. She made it big enough for the edges to touch the walls. Then she put a preservation spell on it, so they couldn’t accidentally break it when they walked on it.

  I can ward them on it. Circle them, basically. It could work. I just need to be fast.

  She had to really press down on the wound on her ribs to get more blood to make it work. She finished it and looked over her work. Then she threw a practice ward, envisioning the circle she needed it to be. That took a few tries. It was much bigger than the one she’d put on the bottle, which had been smaller, easier to see. This one, she had to make sure covered the entire pentagram, which she’d made huge.

  “Okay. I can do this. Now, I just need to wait. Wards fade and if I pull it down too fast, they’ll find it suspicious.” She knew her mumbled talking to herself was quiet enough. She turned to look deeper in the mine. She didn’t like how dark it was, but it would work in her favor. What she really didn’t like was that she was alone in it, even with wards, because she didn’t know what else could be in it.

  “WITCH! Come out here and talk to us! We can work this out!” the leader roared. “We can come to an agreement that works for both of us. I was really nice to you.”

  And I know you won’t be anymore!

  “I’m sorry! I’m not looking to be in a relationship right now. I’m a widow and I’m just not looking for anything serious!”

  “You little bitch!” he yelled. “You can’t hide in there forever, but we can wait a very long time.”

  You’ll lose your patience. Either you’ll leave before I bring the wards down, or you’ll walk in here and fall right in my trap.

  She didn’t respond to him that time, sitting back down and covering her ribs with a hand. She wondered if she knew the spell Maxwell used. The one where he sent messages using a candle. Not like it would do me any good. The mine is too dangerous for a fire. I’ll blow myself up.

  She took another deep breath, tired. It made her ribs hurt worse, but as long as nothing was broken, she wasn’t worried about the graze. Her leg was more concerning. The horse falling on it had done damage.

  William, I don’t think this is what you had in mind when we had that talk. You know the one. If work took you from me, you made me promise to t
ry new things, continue having a life. Find new love and all that.

  I don’t think demon outlaws were exactly what you had in mind.

  She closed her eyes for only a second and that accidentally took her under, the pain and exhaustion refusing to let her stay awake.

  24

  Maxwell

  Maxwell patted his gelding’s neck, hours into the hard ride, and realized that even with the urgency, they had to stop.

  “My horse is going to break if we don’t stop for water, at least,” he said loudly, hoping to catch the attention of the other riders. Only Easton and Valen were with him on their own horses. The hellhound shifter ran ahead of them, untiring, his head low like a driven hunting dog.

  “Dark Prince is starting to feel it, too,” Valen replied, pulling the reins to slow. Maxwell let his gelding slow on his own. “Easton?”

  “Yeah,” he agreed softly, pulling them all to a stop. “I know.” He was silent for a moment, staring off into the wilds. “Remy will loop back around, find a pond or stream for them.”

  “I have a waterskin as well, if it’s needed,” Maxwell said, dismounting. He ran his hand down the gelding’s neck again. “Hey, Duke, we’re going to rest a moment for you.”

  “Duke?” Easton gave him a curious look as he swung off his gelding and Valen chuckled as he led Dark Prince in a slow cool-down walk.

  “Every horse Adalyn has ever bred has a royal title or something,” the big Russian explained. “Tobias, a close friend, rides a dainty mare named Countess.”

  “They came from King, Queen, and Empress, horses she brought with her from back East. They were already adults and had bred before.” Maxwell sighed. “She bought Dark Prince five years ago and he has yet to produce any young for her,” Maxwell continued. “Her current mares are Regal, Duchess, and Lady, all King’s daughters. So are Duke and Countess.” He sighed, continuing to rub his overworked horse. “Sorry, boy.”

  “She breeds fine horses,” Easton murmured, looking over Duke. “Where did she get her original three?”

  “She would never tell us,” Valen answered, smiling. “Promised they weren’t stolen, but that’s it.”

  Maxwell always had a sneaking suspicion they were, but he never acted on it. He knew who they would have been stolen from and didn’t particularly like the family.

  “How long are we stopping?” Remy asked, the moment he was in his human form. “There’s a stream, about ten minutes from here. Think the horses can handle a walk?”

  “Yeah, that would be good.” Maxwell began to follow the bounty hunter. “They need to breathe, drink, and cool down for a moment.”

  “Sorry. I should have slowed earlier, realizing they wouldn’t be able to keep up with me.” Remy’s voice was anxious-sounding. “I’m sorry, Marshal. We promised we would make sure she wasn’t hurt in all of this.”

  Maxwell ground his teeth. He wasn’t upset with them. They had done everything they had promised, and there had been no reason to think the simple plan wouldn’t work. No, he was mad at a particular witch who started the entire mess—and he felt like an ass for it now since she was in danger.

  “Let’s just make sure she gets home safe and sound,” he replied. “Then Valen and I get to try and keep her from getting into any more trouble.”

  “Oh, you know, Maxwell, I had an idea about that,” Valen cut in. “It came to me when I was on the way to check on her. Then I realized she was taken.”

  “What?” He just had to hear this. If Valen had an idea it was probably-

  “I think we make her the sheriff.” Before Maxwell could open his mouth, Valen waved a hand and kept talking. “Think of it! Why did she do this? She wanted to help protect Redstone. She lost her husband. People lost friends and family. The town was nearly destroyed. She’s just trying to make sure that doesn’t happen again. It’s a noble effort, but…”

  “She’s a woman and a widow, Valen,” Maxwell reminded him, glaring around his horse to the Russian. “The town wouldn’t care for it.”

  “They know Adalyn as a capable witch who has always provided a helping hand in Redstone. She knows everyone, everything, and how it all is supposed to run. She knows the job, since William always talked to her about it. Woman or not, she’s powerful enough to do the job. Get her a deputy or two, maybe from the shifters or wereanimals, and she’ll have help.” Valen took a deep breath. “Plus, the town knows the role needs to be filled, but no one is willing to step up and do it. I think desperation plays a role in this. We need someone official.”

  “You will make her the laughingstock of the West as a female sheriff.”

  “Or a formidable witch sheriff that no one would dare mess with, since she has all the fire and grit one would expect from a tough woman of the West. And everyone knows that if men are dangerous in the West, the women are more so.”

  Maxwell couldn’t believe what he was hearing. If she were a man, sure. He’d had the exact same thought only a couple days before.

  “She could get hurt,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I can’t-”

  “Maxwell, she doesn’t need your permission.” Valen’s normally jovial tone was gone. “You’re not her husband. William didn’t leave her to you in his will or anything. I told you this idea because if you go along with it, it’s easier.” Valen gave him a sad look. “And I think you lost most of your right to consider calling yourself a close friend by not coming back after the funeral.”

  Maxwell stopped walking and let the group pass him.

  That is going to haunt me forever.

  And Valen had a point. He could either support it and find himself in a place where his help would be accepted, or he could fight it and find himself further locked out of her life.

  “She might not even want it, not after all of this,” Valen said, looking back. “But it’s what I’m going to talk to her and the town about when this is over.”

  “What are her qualifications?” he asked. “What evidence are you going to present to the town to get them to agree?”

  “You’ll find out when it happens. I mean, if you don’t know already, then you obviously don’t know her as well as you think you do.” Valen gave him another smile, this one more teasing, but Maxwell didn’t miss the underlying accusation.

  He didn’t respond again, knowing he was losing this. William would be so angry if he knew. His wife, thrust into the most dangerous position in the West. Sheriff of Redstone.

  When they got to the stream, he let Duke get his fill.

  “An hour,” Easton said quietly. “We’ll walk for an hour, giving the horses ample time to cool down. Remy, how close are we?”

  “It’s midday. We’ll be there by midnight. Not even at a hard gallop. I think she’s moved a little, but what that could mean, I don’t know. They might have just changed locations, hoping to make sure no one was on to them.”

  “Perfect,” Maxwell agreed. “We can walk the stream. It takes us in the right direction. Then when we mount back up, we’ll leave it and head directly for her.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Valen sighed. “So, you two boys. What would you think of a female sheriff?”

  Easton frowned. “I think if any woman could be a sheriff, it would be her. Remember, I’ve only known her for a handful of days.”

  “Same. What I want to know is…” Remy grinned. “In a town of Supes, does it matter what’s between the sheriff’s legs? As long as said Supe is strong enough to handle the rest, I don’t think it does.”

  “Look at that, Maxwell. They understand.” Valen smacked his shoulder.

  “Fine,” he groaned. “I won’t argue with you.” He didn’t promise his support for it, but he wasn’t going to argue with any of them anymore either. He gestured for them to keep moving. “Let’s find her first.” He would remain focused on that.

  Slowly, they kept walking downstream. Never had Maxwell felt like an outsider before, not among other men of the West, but he did now. A year away from those he genuinely cared about
. He’d caused the rift. He knew he had. Valen was more willing to talk aimlessly to the bounty hunters than him. Tobias hadn’t even dropped a letter about his trip at Maxwell’s Fort Lackey office. Adalyn despised him.

  I’ve been a major asshole to her.

  He just didn’t know how to turn it off. He was raised to think about society and how they were supposed to act. No matter how hard he tried, he always thought of the repercussions. She had relations with a couple of bounty hunters; other reputable men were less likely to want to marry her. If she became the sheriff of Redstone, she’d be an outcast to other, more modest women of the West. Maybe not in Redstone, but other places. Would other sheriffs want to work with her? Other marshals? She would need their support sometimes, but they might not want to work with a woman.

  I know she would understand my problems with it. I also know she won’t care.

  He and Adalyn came from similar backgrounds. While his well-off family, high in the ranks of the Society, had made sure he was ready for the world and treated him well, hers had made her life a nightmare. Hell, their parents were friends, though that was a topic they had always both refused to touch.

  He had no reason to think the proper way of doing things was wrong. She had every reason. It was something they had always had a hard time reconciling, even with William around. He’d learned to just put the propriety away when spending time with the Lovetts. He enjoyed their company and she was always a breath of fresh air compared to other company he was forced to keep.

  He just needed to find a way to turn off the asshole in him. She was right. He’d never been such a prick to her before William was gone.

  “Maxwell?” Valen called.

  “Yes?” He hadn’t realized he’d fallen behind the rest of them. “Sorry.” He walked faster, but stayed lost in his own thoughts, considering what Valen had called him out for. If he didn’t understand her qualifications as a sheriff, then he didn’t know her very well.

 

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