Chapter One Hundred Seven

To Angel’s surprise, Lucas didn’t kill her immediately. Instead, he said disgustedly, “I was eventually going to get to you. You just can’t wait for anything.”

“Who was she?” Angel knew the victim in the barn was female.

“No one you knew.”

He used his weight to drag Angel back to the body. The head was gone, so she couldn’t be sure he was telling the truth.

“Did you bring your friend or did I kill him?” he asked conversationally. “It felt like a good shot, but in the heat of the moment you never know.”

“He’s fine. Thank you for asking.”

The knife pressed more firmly into her skin, and she held back a squeak of pain as it pierced her flesh. He liked hearing the pain. She wouldn’t give him that.

“Always a comedian.” He squeezed her arm tighter, cutting off the circulation.

“You’re getting dramatic in your old age,” she taunted. “I always thought you were less talk and more action.”

“Only because I was forced to hurry. Back in righteous days, I had to rush through the best parts before my partner found me. You remember.” He pulled the knife even closer to her throat. “But now I have all this space to work, and because I know you never call for backup, I have unlimited time.”

“Lucky for me”—she made her move, pushing the knife away just as a shot rang out through the barn. Lucas fell to the ground with a stirring of dust—“I learned from that mistake,” she finished.

Thorne stepped out around a stack of bales, as Dane holstered his gun and limped closer.

“Thanks, guys,” she said breathlessly.

Thorne moved in to hug her, but then frowned at the blood on her clothes and patted her shoulder instead. Fair enough.

“Thanks for not being stupid this time,” Dane said. “Check his vitals. I want to make sure he’s not going to do a surprise resurrection scene. I really hate those.”

“He’s not going anywhere,” she assured. It was pretty obvious Lucas was dead. But she did check for a pulse in what was left of his neck. “Good shot.”

“Wasn’t me,” Dane said with a shrug, and glanced at Thorne.

Thorne smiled, shook his head, and turned toward the sound of another set of footsteps.

“Great job, Deputy Marshal Williamson,” Thorne said as Colton stepped into the room.