“This asshole bothering you?” Eric asked.
“A little bit, but I’ve got things handled.” Shelby pushed the dowel again and Wyatt yelped.
Note to self: never piss her off during arts and crafts time. A twinge of sympathy created a pinch in his own balls.
From Eric’s vantage point, Wyatt’s ruddy neck grew even redder. The dumbass made the bad decision to point a finger at her. “Screw you, Taggart. I gave you a chance. One day, we’re going to have that whole ranch. And your family will have nothing. Then you’ll come begging for me to help you. And it’ll depend on how nicely you beg me, if I’ll ever do anything for you.”
Eric curled his free hand into a fist, primed to level the jerk. No one said stuff like that to her.
But Shelby stepped up instead.
“You disgust me, Wyatt,” she spat, only a few terrifying inches away from the man’s face. Eric blinked. Wow. Her focus on indenting the guy’s junk was remarkable, even as she snarled at Wyatt. “Stay away from the ranch. Stay away from my family.” Wincing, she added, “And quit thinking that nasty stuff. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
She moved her arm. Her orange hair stuck out in all directions, her eyes flashed a warning, and her cheeks flared pink. Geezus, she was beautiful.
Wyatt jumped and gurgled in an unladylike yelp.
With a wheeze, she gritted out, “Now leave me alone. I’ve had a really crappy day, and your face doesn’t improve any of it.”
Eric leapt to the side so that Wyatt stumbled. The man backed away, a clenched fist held in front of him.
“Get out of my store, you bitch. Taggart money is no good here.” He lifted his chin toward Eric. “Yours, too. I don’t want to see either of you in here again.”
Through a series of rapid calculations that included how hard he could hit the guy, how many years in prison he’d get for doing so, and how quickly he could defend Shelby if Wyatt did anything stupid, Eric decided that the best choice was to get her out of here. For now. Eric had enough military training to know you don’t engage the enemy with an innocent civilian in close proximity. But damn, he wanted to push that man’s face through the back of his head more than just about anything else in this world.
Control. He had to maintain control of the situation. Much as he wanted to fix that guy so that he whistled out his ass, they were in public, after all.
He cut his gaze away from Wyatt to Shelby. All high color and blazing gold and brown eyes, she stood ready to take on the guy and damn the consequences.
Eric outweighed her by a lot, but even he wasn’t stupid enough to tangle with a fired-up Shelby. Not like this. Maybe in the bedroom.
His groin tightened. Oh man, that kind of energy and passion focused in the right way—that would be a wild ride.
Wyatt cleared his throat. His voice came out too high and cracked. “I said, get out of my store.”
Eric met her eyes, and as one, they let all of the items crash to the floor, scattering wire, tools, and wooden dowels on the worn linoleum. Then he and Shelby strolled away. With his hand on the small of her back, he guided her in front of him, keeping his body between her and Wyatt. If that asshole wanted to hurt her, he’d have to come through Eric first.
They strolled past a wide-eyed, slack-jawed blonde at the checkout counter. Izzy Brand, Wyatt’s younger sister. Eric knew her from high school. Too bad that nice woman had been born into such a shitty family.
He shepherded Shelby out the front of the building. When he opened the passenger side door of the truck and slammed it shut after she entered, a shadow at the side of the store, near the alley, came and went. He blinked and rubbed the sudden chill away from his neck. Trick of the morning light? Who cared. Not like he was coming back here any time soon. He stepped up into the truck and glanced at Shelby.
She put her head in her hands. “Wow. Burned that bridge good and proper, huh?”
“What bridge? The Brands are assholes. You shouldn’t be giving them your money anyway.” He yanked his door shut.
“Not Izzy. She’s a good person.”
“Who had the misfortune to be raised with those dickheads. If she’s a good person, then she’s trapped with that herd of boars.”
“Good point.”
He turned the ignition and tapped her hand with his finger.
She jumped.
“You okay? Seriously?” he asked.
A softness in her gaze came and went so quickly, he must have imagined it. However, that glimmer reset his priorities in a flash. That glimmer made him want to be the kind of man who made her look at him that way: vulnerable, appreciative, trusting. Damn it, he flat-out wanted to be that man.
But that wasn’t happening, as she’d made crystal-clear.
Wasn’t happening because he had too much at risk. He’d rather have Shelby as a friend than risk losing her forever, and that, as they said, was that.
“What about the supplies?” she asked.
He rolled his neck. “I’ll run back to Jackson later today and take care of getting everything at the store there.” To be honest, the last thing he wanted to do was take another three-hour trip anywhere, but they didn’t have a lot of choices. “Let me know what craft dowel size you’d like. I’ll get extras.”
She grinned.
• • •
His minion had failed.
Not quite minion, the creature seethed as he reminded himself. To make that human into a true minion, the Great One needed to return to this world. As yet, more steps remained in the plan. The new blade needed to be forged and used again. Soon the weapon would be ready to plunge into the heart of the first sacrifice, allowing the Great One to return to worldly power. But first, paths must be cleared. Enemies needed to be removed.
But his almost-minion had discovered something important. That woman with the fiery hair? One of the legacy children? Much stronger than the creature had expected. Such fire. Reminded the creature of someone else he had once loved.
And lost.
His love from years past had betrayed him.
Betrayal of the worst kind. What he’d give for revenge.
A rumble formed like a cloud in his gut, then broke into searing acid rain, scoring the corporeal flesh of the human vessel he had acquired, strafing fire down his yet-mortal skin. Careful. The Great One had to be careful with this human, at least until the creature had fully manifested back into His immortal form.
Did the legacy’s daughter hold the key to the Great One’s re-emergence?
Like a moth ready to emerge from its hellish, heated cocoon, the Great One vibrated and stretched against corporeal bonds, eager to come back into the world. His dominion.
To rule.
Was she the key? No. Not by herself, she wasn’t. All four of that family held the key to the success or failure of the Great One’s second coming. Together.
If he and his minions could get rid of them all—together—there would be no barrier to the new age of the Great One.
The creature expanded and contracted, darkness shifting in and out in what now served as respiration.
A parody of alive.
Soon, his body would be indestructible and that paltry human male would change from minion to become the right-hand man of the Great One, carrying out His commands to rule the world.
Soon.