Apach.”
His snake eyes studied her with feverish intensity as he forced the boot onto his swollen foot, gritting his teeth against the pain. His shirt was soaking wet, plastered to his heavily muscled torso, and his wavy, thick, tan hair hung lankly, framing a face that looked like a death mask. He struggled to his feet and took the reins of the big gelding one of his men had saddled. “Tie her up. If I'm not back in five days, kill her—screw her to death. You all take turns until she's done for.”
With that he swung up onto his horse and hunched over the saddle horn as the big bay bore him toward the mouth of the canyon.
* * * *
The sun was setting, leaving great vivid slashes of magenta and gold against the western rim of the canyon. Colin took the field glasses from Wolf and scanned the opening to the canyon from their hidden vantage point on the far side of the heavily wooded rim. They had climbed all afternoon, following a twisting overgrown trail that Maggie guided them along.
“I see another one, over against that big boulder by the mesquite,” Colin said.
“We need to pick them off before we hit the camp,” Wolf replied, studying the terrain with the practiced eye of his Apache forebears.
“Quietly. No guns. If Lazlo hears anything, he might hurt Eden.” Colin's voice was grim.
Maggie, who they had all but ignored since reaching the crest of the ridge, had been busy taking the pins from her hair. Lustrous waves of auburn cascaded over her shoulders. “I can distract the one on this side of the canyon. You go after the other one.”
Colin looked at her as if she had said she would fly down to the valley floor. “You'll damn well stay here, out of the line of fire.”
Wolf, who had said little since they rode out of San Luís, studied the man and woman glaring at each other. Something had passed between them since last night. They had been friendly, obviously attracted to each other. Now they were openly antagonistic. The sexual tension had not been eradicated. It still radiated between them like the desert sun pounding on a stone mesa, but the easygoing bantering had been replaced by clipped sharp commands on Colin's part and a proud, quiet defiance on Maggie's.
“She would be able to approach the guard easier than we could. Being a woman, she can walk up to him out in the open and hold his attention while I cut across behind him. There's not much cover to let us get close enough to kill him without firing a shot.”
“He could yell to his friend across the other side of the pass,” Colin said.
Maggie just smiled. “Trust me. He won't want to share. I know men,” she said with the voice of experience as her eyes met Colin's.
“Yes, I guess you do,” Colin replied tightly.
In half an hour they were in place. Maggie stumbled out of the rocks, sobbing, her clothes disheveled and her hair flying. “Please,” she said softly to the armed bandit, “help me.”
“What the hell?” He looked around, then rushed toward her as she started to crumple to the ground. His hands trembled with excitement when he saw the pale golden skin of her throat where her blouse had been pulled open. The ripe curve of a breast beckoned him. He set his rifle down as he bent over her, looking into the most beautiful face he had ever seen.
Maggie was the last thing he saw before Wolf's blade slashed cleanly across his throat. He died with a few gurgling gasps.
“You move fast. I figured he'd at least have my blouse unbuttoned first,” she said as Blake threw the body face down behind the rocks.
He smiled chillingly. “It's my Apache blood. My mother was Cibeque. I lived with them until I was seven. Some things you never forget.”
“You've grown up
His snake eyes studied her with feverish intensity as he forced the boot onto his swollen foot, gritting his teeth against the pain. His shirt was soaking wet, plastered to his heavily muscled torso, and his wavy, thick, tan hair hung lankly, framing a face that looked like a death mask. He struggled to his feet and took the reins of the big gelding one of his men had saddled. “Tie her up. If I'm not back in five days, kill her—screw her to death. You all take turns until she's done for.”
With that he swung up onto his horse and hunched over the saddle horn as the big bay bore him toward the mouth of the canyon.
* * * *
The sun was setting, leaving great vivid slashes of magenta and gold against the western rim of the canyon. Colin took the field glasses from Wolf and scanned the opening to the canyon from their hidden vantage point on the far side of the heavily wooded rim. They had climbed all afternoon, following a twisting overgrown trail that Maggie guided them along.
“I see another one, over against that big boulder by the mesquite,” Colin said.
“We need to pick them off before we hit the camp,” Wolf replied, studying the terrain with the practiced eye of his Apache forebears.
“Quietly. No guns. If Lazlo hears anything, he might hurt Eden.” Colin's voice was grim.
Maggie, who they had all but ignored since reaching the crest of the ridge, had been busy taking the pins from her hair. Lustrous waves of auburn cascaded over her shoulders. “I can distract the one on this side of the canyon. You go after the other one.”
Colin looked at her as if she had said she would fly down to the valley floor. “You'll damn well stay here, out of the line of fire.”
Wolf, who had said little since they rode out of San Luís, studied the man and woman glaring at each other. Something had passed between them since last night. They had been friendly, obviously attracted to each other. Now they were openly antagonistic. The sexual tension had not been eradicated. It still radiated between them like the desert sun pounding on a stone mesa, but the easygoing bantering had been replaced by clipped sharp commands on Colin's part and a proud, quiet defiance on Maggie's.
“She would be able to approach the guard easier than we could. Being a woman, she can walk up to him out in the open and hold his attention while I cut across behind him. There's not much cover to let us get close enough to kill him without firing a shot.”
“He could yell to his friend across the other side of the pass,” Colin said.
Maggie just smiled. “Trust me. He won't want to share. I know men,” she said with the voice of experience as her eyes met Colin's.
“Yes, I guess you do,” Colin replied tightly.
In half an hour they were in place. Maggie stumbled out of the rocks, sobbing, her clothes disheveled and her hair flying. “Please,” she said softly to the armed bandit, “help me.”
“What the hell?” He looked around, then rushed toward her as she started to crumple to the ground. His hands trembled with excitement when he saw the pale golden skin of her throat where her blouse had been pulled open. The ripe curve of a breast beckoned him. He set his rifle down as he bent over her, looking into the most beautiful face he had ever seen.
Maggie was the last thing he saw before Wolf's blade slashed cleanly across his throat. He died with a few gurgling gasps.
“You move fast. I figured he'd at least have my blouse unbuttoned first,” she said as Blake threw the body face down behind the rocks.
He smiled chillingly. “It's my Apache blood. My mother was Cibeque. I lived with them until I was seven. Some things you never forget.”
“You've grown up
Similar Books
