"That's the name Lucas gave me. Why?"
She laughed, and it made her eyes sparkle. "I've met him. In fact, he owes me a rather large favor."
Rick suddenly remembered the naked man who'd dallied with the wrong woman and laughed. "You sure you're going to recognize him again with his clothes on?"
Raven's eyebrows raised just as Josette's jaw dropped. She put her hands on her hips.
"Richard Aleric Cooper! Get your mind out of the gutter!" Josette's toe started tapping an impatient rhythm against the concrete as she mock-glared at Rick.
Cooper. It's a surname he hadn't heard in a century. It was his given name, and the one he'd given to
Josette
when they'd married. But how stressed was
she that she'd forgotten they'd changed it even as early as when they moved to Illinois?
"If the two of you are done?" Raven was obviously tired and irritable, he glared at each of them in turn. "Aspen, since you already know Simmons, you should probably be the one to talk to him."
"Fine." She turned and started to leave.
"I'm coming with you," Rick announced.
She rolled her eyes. "Fine. But hurry up." Turning on her heel she started across the pavement in the direction of the farmhouse. The wind whipped her hair around her face.
Ah. The scent of his jealousy had finally caught up to her. Rick went after her at a half-trot. He had the sense not to touch her. Just matched his pace to hers. "I'm sorry. I'm having a hard time today. I'm not sure why. Please ignore me. You're too important to me to upset."
When she spoke, her voice was soft, barely audible. He knew Raven wouldn't catch the words, even with his keen hearing. "Then why didn't you come back? If I'm so important, why did you let me mourn for a century?"
He sighed. "Pride mostly, and fear. You can be damned hard-headed. That you didn't come after me told me a lot. I didn't figure you'd want me back, and I didn't exactly fancy dragging in with my tail between my legs."
"What changed your mind now?" She'd started
walking again, but more slowly, giving him the chance to come up beside her.
Rick wanted to say something clever, to protect himself from revealing too much of what he felt. But he could hear the vulnerability in her voice. Lying now, making light of the question, might cost him his chance. So he steeled himself to tell the truth. "Charles said you were in trouble, and it occurred to me that if you got yourself killed I'd
never
get the chance to work things out with you."
"So you came riding to my rescue?" She arched an eyebrow at him. He didn't miss the irony in the look.
"Would it help if I told you that Lucas figured you'd kill anybody else on sight? And neither of us was
positive
that you wouldn't do even worse to me." Rick made his tone light. He knew better than anyone how much this particular lady hated the "helpless little woman" stereotype. Yes, he'd come to rescue her. Not because he thought she was incapable but because he loved her. Damn it. There it was. He was still in love with
Josette Monier
Cooper and it was time to stop playing around. And everybody needs help now and again, whether they admit it or not.
She gave a full-throated laugh that tilted her head back showing a long expanse of pale throat, lighting up her entire face. "You certainly do know how to turn a girl's head."
"We aim to please, ma'am." He pretended to tilt an imaginary hat.
She laughed again, her annoyance forgotten. She picked her way delicately around yet another deep puddle in the gravel drive. "Why do I have such a hard time staying angry with you?"
"My irresistible charm?" he suggested. The two of them had started walking again. They'd almost reached the last bend in the driveway.
"Maybe." The smile she gave him made his heartbeat speed up, making him warm in spite of the wretched weather. The sight of her nipples pressed hard against the thin fabric of her top dragged a reaction from his body that was almost frightening in its intensity. He wanted her. Here, now
…
hell,
any
time,
any
place. But here and now would definitely be good. The reaction was ridiculously impractical, but that didn't change a thing.
She saw his reaction, or smelled the lust pouring off of him, and her smile grew mischievous. "We'll talk more later. We're almost there."
Rick stopped long enough to convince his unruly body to behave. They were rounding the last bend.
The house was a large two-story affair with a wide front porch. It gleamed from a fresh coat of white paint, the trim a bright, fire-engine red that matched the barn a few yards away. Four trucks were parked in a straight row along the white metal livestock fence, which formed a pen next to the barn. All of the vehicles were large, four-wheel-drive monsters meant for heavy work and rough terrain.
A man stood alone on the porch, lounging casually against one of the support columns at the top of the stairs. He wore jeans, which had been professionally pressed to have a perfect crease, under a heavy blue work shirt. His blond hair had been recently cut very short, a mark showed fresh skin against tan. Rick caught a glimpse of a red tattoo, half-hidden under the man's collar. He was a good-looking fellow, with a strong build and open features. But something about him felt
…
wrong. Rick lowered his shields, using his gift to take a read of the other man.
"Good afternoon! Did you get the flowers I sent?"
"They were lovely, thank you." She gave him a smile that could have melted the polar icecaps. Rick wasn't jealous. In fact, he barely noticed.
This
was the source of the aggression he'd felt earlier. Simmons was a consummate actor. His face practically glowed with bonhomie, but that wasn't what he was feeling. Instead, he was triumphant, eager, and angry.
Rick reached out to touch Josette's arm, to warn her, when he saw the play of light reflecting off glass from the hayloft of the barn. Instinct took over. He tackled her just as the shot rang out. Rolling off of her, he drew the gun from the small of his back.
Time seemed to slow. Rick saw everything with painful clarity: the rifleman; Simmons drawing his own weapon as he darted for cover; two more men were moving, the barrels of their guns propped on the bed wall of the largest of the trucks.
There was no way he could shoot them all. He knew it even as he pointed his weapon at Simmons and pulled the trigger.
"No!"
Josette's scream was as much from rage as fear. He felt a flash of heat as she gathered her power, followed in an instant by the crawl of electricity across his skin.
Blinding light brought tears to his eyes as heat followed the screech of metal and an explosion of sound shook the ground beneath him. Dirt sprayed up into his face, deafening him to the screams of their attackers. A bomb. There
was
a bomb in that barn! Potholes littered the long strip of concrete and one wing of the plane was hanging by bits of wire. Simmons and his men had intended to murder them. The bomb had been placed near enough to the runway that if they'd taken off immediately as planned, they would be dead now. But
why?
Were they part of The Movement, or a
brand-new
threat?
Josette
leaped to her feet and started running in a zigzag pattern across the field, passing Raven, who had changed to wolf form. He was an impressive wolf, nearly the same height at the shoulder as Rick's chest. He streaked by and leaped on one of the men, pulling him down with a scream that was followed closely by another rifle shot.
Dirt sprayed inches away from his feet. Simmons was injured, but not down. He raised
h
is weapon, aiming for Rick, but he was too slow. Before he could
fire, his body jerked and blood sprayed the snow
-
white paint as Rick sent two more shots into his chest. It was quicker than changing.
He was looking where he was firing, but he heard the blare of a car horn. Turning his head he saw the Volvo speeding up the lane, the front passenger door swinging open wide. He couldn't spare more than a cursory glance. The men in the truck bed were stirring, shaking off their shock. With
Josette
out of range the rifleman turned his attention to Rick. His first shot hit the exact spot where he'd had been standing an instant before. Rick was gone. Running at Sazi speed he joined Raven in a mad dash across the muddy field to catch the car.
The car had reached the gravel road and was fighting for traction.
Josette
was shouting for them to hurry. Raven reached the vehicle first. He jumped in the front door, entering as a wolf, but landing as a human before diving into the backseat. A moment later he was sitting on the windowsill he had guns in each hand, steadied on the roof of the car, firing continuously. Rick doubted he was hitting anything, but the gunfire would discourage his pursuers.
Putting on a burst of speed he dived, face first, into the car. The door slammed closed behind him.
Josette
shouted, "Got him."
Rick felt the car lurch beneath him as gravel transitioned to pavement.
Josette
took a hard left and floored the accelerator.
"Are you hurt?" Raven was back inside the vehicle, reloading his weapons from the bag on the floor as Rick climbed into the backseat. He dropped the spent clips onto the floor, his eyes on the road behind them.
"I'm fine."
"Trucks coming, fast,"
Josette
announced and jerked the steering wheel hard to the left.
"Shit!" Rick struggled to get to his hands and knees in the confined space. Neither he nor Raven were small men. Having both of them in the backseat made things damned crowded. There seemed to be arms and legs everywhere, all of them in his way.
"I either need a different gun or more ammo for this one. I'm out." He honestly didn't remember firing that many shots, but he must have because the clip was empty.
"In the bag," was Raven's curt response. His attention was on the vehicles behind them. He climbed back through the window, firing backward.
Josette
took a hard right that nearly threw Raven out of the car. He was only holding on by tucking his bare feet under the seat back and bracing his back against the window pillar. Fortunately, Rick had just enough room to maneuver himself up and over the seat to sit next to her. It would be better not to have them both hanging out. Dropping into a
sitting position, he pulled a handgun and holster from the bag,
"Left turn ahead," she announced. It was good she'd warned them. She hit the brakes and steered sharply to the left, forcing Raven to brace himself, so he wouldn't slide across the slick leather seats.
Rick heard a crack, and the glass of the rear window exploded, sending small square chunks of glass raining through the backseat. Unspent, the bullet from the rifle continued through the windshield. More by chance than design, the glass missed Rick's eyes. Raven, too, had been spared, except for a few minor cuts across his bare chest. But they healed almost faster than Rick could blink.
Josette
was huddled low in her seat, trying to keep her head out of firing range, while still peering over the dash to drive.
Turning, Rick knelt on the seat, aiming his gun through the frame of the window, firing shot after shot behind them. He wasn't aiming for the passengers. The trucks were moving too fast, and he was too out of practice. So he left that for Raven. His goal was to put enough holes in the radiators and engines of the trucks to stop them, because they weren't going to be able to outrun them. The Volvo was a great car, and Josie was doing a damn fine job of driving, but they were on unfamiliar roads in bad weather.
"Right,"
Josette
shouted to be heard over the wind and rain whistling through the vehicle. She slowed
only marginally before taking the turn, and Rick felt the vehicle shudder as the electronic brake distribution and traction control kicked in.
As Rick watched one of the trucks missed the turn, driving hard and fast into the middle of a muddy field, the vehicle lurched to a stop, the gunman in the bed being tossed in the air like a rag doll.
The second truck was bearing down.
"Hang on!"
Josette
yelled.
Rick braced himself as the Volvo sped up an incline and over a railroad crossing, becoming airborne for a brief moment before slamming with jarring impact against the pavement on the other side.
"Gun." Raven reached down, exchanging his spent weapon for the one Rick had pulled from the bag.
"Right!"
Rick continued to fire into the grill of the remaining truck, not even noticing the shifting vehicle anymore.
But the driver of the truck had apparently been waiting for just this turn. He gunned the engine, closing the distance between them until there were only inches between them.
Raven and Rick were firing almost continuously. The truck was now too close to fire at the grill. Rick aimed at the eyes above the rifle steadied on the roof of the truck as Raven fired at the driver. Blood exploded from the driver's chest. The truck lurched to the right as the dying man fell sideways. The vehicles
impacted with the scream and grinding of twisting metal. Rick and the others were thrown into a tangled heap as the Volvo swerved out of control off the pavement and started to roll.