Her Reaper's Arms (22 page)

“I can be an ally,” Penthe told him. “I could fight at your back.”

“That sure as hell isn’t going to happen!” Lea snarled. “You are going to stay away

from him!”

The two women glared daggers at one another and Bevyn was wise enough not to

say anything that would make the situation worse. A deafening silence settled inside

the coach with the sharp pelting of the rain against the windows and doors seemingly

louder with every mile they traveled.

By the time the coach stopped at the railway station, the Reaper was more than

ready to get out—pouring rain or not. Being cooped up had taken its toll on his nerves.

Grabbing his slicker, he had even more trouble putting it on than he’d had getting it off,

for Lea didn’t offer to help, daring the Blackwind to offer with eyes that were darting

lethal gray fire.

“Behave, ladies,” Bevyn muttered to the two women as he forced the door open

against the pummeling wind and rain.

“Keep embarrassing him like that and you’ll lose him,” Penthe warned Lea with a

smirk.

“Go fuck yourself,” Lea said, having borrowed that particularly pithy insult from

one of the girls at the White Horse Saloon. She was angry enough to throw herself at the

tall woman whose lip was lifted in a sneer.

“You’re a fool,” Penthe said, laughing. She got up and pushed open the door,

moving out into the deluge.

Sitting there for another minute or two, Lea tried to get her anger under control. It

wasn’t in her to be so combative or confrontational and she had surprised herself. But

Bevyn belonged to her and she belonged to him. She knew he wouldn’t allow any other

woman to come between them, but instinct told her the Amazeen wasn’t going to give

up easily.

Bevyn inspected the train car the three of them would be traveling on, had the

deputy hand down Penthe’s Dóigra and took it to the Amazeen’s private compartment.

The compartment he would share with Lea was small but far enough away from the

one the Blackwind had been assigned that he should be able to keep the women apart

much of the time. Daylight hours would be passed in the social car and the dining car.

“We will be serving lunch about an hour after we depart the station, milord,” the

conductor told Bevyn, nodding politely to the Amazeen as she came to join them.

“I’ve not been on one of these rolling tin cans,” Penthe said. “Do you think they’d

let me see the engine that pulls it?”

“I’ll ask, but I don’t see why not,” Bevyn said. He was grateful the Amazeen was

curious about the train. If she was inspecting it, she wouldn’t be baiting Lea. He swept a

107

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

hand to the seats. “Sit wherever you like. I’m going to get my lady. Your weapon is in

your compartment.” He showed her the quarters.

Penthe watched him leave the train car and run to the stagecoach to open the door.

He stood there for a moment with the rain pouring down on him, seemingly arguing

with the Terran woman.

“Keep it up, bitch,” Penthe said softly. “Annoy him and he’ll start looking

elsewhere for company.”

Settling down in one of the seats so she could watch the Reaper, she laughed when

he threw his hands up and slammed the coach door. But instead of coming back on the

train, he began pacing the covered platform with his hands on his hips, his head down,

as though he were striving to get his anger under control. Even through the downpour,

she could hear his spurs plinking against the platform with each circuit he made. She

saw him stop, lift his head and stare right at her.

“Don’t let her put a leash on you, Reaper,” she whispered to him.

Bevyn heard her words as clearly as though she’d been standing right beside him.

He shook his head, annoyed even more, then stomped back to the stagecoach, jerked

the door open and reached inside.

“Out!” he snapped at Lea. “Now, wench!”

Lea had no choice but to leave the stagecoach. He was pulling on her arm, and from

the look on his face, the set of his clenched jaw, she knew he was upset. One glimpse at

the woman sitting at the window watching them with a hateful smirk made Lea want to

scream.

“I won’t sit with that bitch!” she told her Reaper.

“I am not expecting you to,” he said. “You can stay in the gods-be-damned sleeper

car if you want.”

“And leave her to paw all over you?” she gasped. “I don’t
think
so!”

“Lea…” he began, and his shoulders slumped. “Wench, she means nothing to me.”

“If you give her one of your parasites…”

“I won’t!” he was quick to tell her. “Why would you think I’d even consider that?”

“I’m just saying,” she said with a sniff, pulling her coat closer around her for the

wind was sending across a mist of rain under the platform to chill her.

With the Amazeen and other passengers staring out the windows at him, the

conductor paused on the steps with watch in hand waiting for him and Lea to come

onboard. With the engineer peering out of the engine window with an annoyed grimace

on his face, the engine hissing steam, Bevyn shot out his arm and grabbed Lea around

the waist, jerking her brutally to him. He lowered his head to capture her mouth with

his in a kiss that stunned every eye that saw it. He took his time and kissed her

thoroughly—with lips and tongue and a hard-on that pressed savagely against her.

When he was done, he let go of her, watched her stumble back slightly with wide eyes,

a dazed look and swollen lips, and then reached down for her hand.

108

Her Reaper’s Arms

“Come along, wench,” he said between clenched teeth. “We’re holding up the

train.”

Lea followed behind him, striving to catch her breath. Her Reaper had put

everything into that kiss and it left no doubt in her mind as to how he felt. Her toes had

actually curled with that hard kiss and her womb had done a funny little squeeze. With

her hand tucked firmly in his, he led her up the steps and didn’t relinquish his grip

even when he ushered her into a seat well away from the Amazeen, their back to her,

Lea sitting by the window. He put his free arm around her even though they were both

still wearing their coats.

“You’ve proved your point,” Lea said as the whistle blew and the train began to

roll.

“Did I?” he countered, not looking at her but staring straight ahead.

“Aye, you did,” she said softly.

He let go of her hand, removed his arm from her and stood up in the aisle,

shrugging out of his coat then tossing it to the seat across the way. He leaned down to

help her remove hers then laid it atop his before resuming his seat, stretching his long

legs out in front of him, wedging them partially under the seat in front and crossed his

legs.

The conductor came by and Bevyn stopped him to ask if their traveling companion

could go up to visit with the engineer.

“Well, we don’t normally do that, but for you, milord, we’ll make an exception,”

the conductor said. He bowed then went to speak to the Amazeen.

As soon as Penthe passed them on her way up to the engine car, Bevyn reached up

and tipped his hat down over his eyes, folding his arms over his chest and lowered his

head. “I’m going to take a nap now.”

Lea smiled to herself and turned her head to look out the window at the passing

scenery. The train was gathering speed, the rain streaking the windowpane. She’d never

been this far east and just knowing she was traveling to the very end of the country was

exciting.

From the corner of his eye, Bevyn was watching his lady. Her hands were on the

glass, her forehead pressed against it. She was like a child at a candy store window as

she stared at the bridges they passed, the farmhouses, the streams and lakes before they

began the steady climb up into the misty mountains. It didn’t appear as though she

were missing anything and didn’t even glance around when Penthe came back into the

car, the Blackwind’s hand trailing along Bevyn’s arm as she passed him.

Sighing deeply, unable to sleep but just needing the solitude, the Reaper knew he

was going to have to do something about the Amazeen. He didn’t like her touching

him. He didn’t want her touching him. He knew damned well Lea didn’t want it

happening.

“Lord Bevyn?”

109

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Bevyn flinched, the High Lord’s angry tone drilling into his mind.
“Aye, Your

Grace?”

“One week, Reaper
,” Lord Kheelan snapped.

“Aye, Your Grace,”
Bevyn said, having known full well that would be his

punishment for what he’d done.

“You have severely disappointed us, Coure. Lord Arawn will be here to discuss your

behavior with you.”

There was nothing for Bevyn to say. He’d screwed up as far as the High Council

was concerned and he’d pay for it.

The Shadowlord said no more to him and the silence was a condemnation of its

own.

Bevyn wondered if the High Council knew about the Amazeen Blackwind and

decided since they knew everything else, they had to know about her. Obviously she

wasn’t as much a problem to them as Lea was.

Screw that
, he thought. If they didn’t like his relationship with Lea, he’d resign and

take himself right back to Orson. To his way of thinking, he had more than earned a bit

of happiness in his life.

He must have dozed for when he heard his lady’s gasp, his eyes popped open and

he felt disoriented, aware of the faster movement of the train beneath him.

“Milord, look!” Lea said, reaching around to snag his arm and pull him toward her.

Bevyn pushed his hat back and leaned toward her, staring out the window where

she was pointing. A family of buffalo was grazing beyond a split-rail fence, two calves

staring at the train as it chugged by.

“I never thought to see such animals,” she breathed with awe in her voice.

“What are those, Coure?” Penthe asked and Bevyn realized she had moved so she

was sitting directly behind them.

“Bison,” he replied, uneasy that she was back there. “Buffalo.”

“Strange creatures,” Penthe remarked. “Like fuzzy oxen on Amazeen.”

“They were a staple for the Native Terrans many centuries before. The decline of

the animal signaled the decline of many tribes,” he told her.

Lea’s excitement was dimmed by her man and the Amazeen speaking to one

another, and Lea sat back in her seat, her hands in her lap, no longer watching the

scenery.

“Lunch is being served in the dining car,” the conductor said, coming up the aisle

from behind them. “Lunch in the dining car, milord, ladies and gentlemen.”

“Let’s go, sweeting,” Bevyn said, reaching for Lea’s hand. “I’m starved.”

“I am too,” Penthe announced.

“Imagine that,” Lea muttered under her breath. “I bet I know what she’s hungry

for.”

110

Her Reaper’s Arms

Bevyn stood, leaving his hat in his seat and stepped back so Lea could precede him.

He was more than a little irritated when the Blackwind stepped close behind Lea,

directly in front of him. Grinding his teeth and digging his nails into his palms, he

glared at the back of the Amazeen’s head, annoyed even more that she was as tall as he.

Unaware the other woman was behind her, Lea took the table to which the steward

ushered her, glancing back with surprise to find the Amazeen between her and Bevyn.

Since the steward was holding the chair out for her, Lea had no choice but to thank him

and sit down. Having Bevyn pull the other woman’s chair out for her made Lea want to

kick him and the tall bitch, who was grinning hatefully at Lea, assuming she would be

sitting beside the Reaper.

When Penthe was seated, Bevyn foiled the Amazeen’s plan and skirted the table,

taking the chair beside his lady’s, beside the window, giving her a gentle smile when

she looked up at him with gratitude in her pretty gray eyes.

They managed to chat amicably about the passing scenery as their meals were

placed before them. No one watching would have suspected all three diners at that

particular table were uneasy, restrained and anxious for the meal to be over. When the

commotion at the front of the car began, it drew their immediate attention almost with

relief until they saw the armed, masked men converging on them with guns drawn.

111

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Chapter Eight

“This is a holdup. Nobody move and there won’t be no problems,” one of the five

men said.

The train began slowing to a stop. No doubt another robber or two had broken into

the engine room.

A woman cried out, was hushed by her male companion, and another one fainted,

slumping down in her chair. There were twenty people other than the Reaper sitting in

the dining car. One was a young couple with two small children, another young

couple—the wife heavy with child—several older women obviously traveling together

and a few older men with their wives. Save for one other man who had the look of a

professional gambler about him, Bevyn doubted there was another gun among them.

“We want your purses and your money,” the robber decreed. “Valuables too. That

includes rings, watches, jewelry of any kind.” He indicated one of the masked men.