A contribution to the white gene pool. Be still my heart.
“Give us a little time to have our fun.” Nyx laughed. “We have years ahead of us to make babies.”
“How old are you?” Jerrilyn demanded.
“Twenty-two,” I said.
“I’m twenty-five.” Nyx tossed her hair over her shoulder.
“It’s never too soon to perform your duty to the master race,” Boyd said firmly.
I had no words—none I could say out loud—so I nodded dumbly.
“Boyd! Come quick.” Tuck’s cry interrupted our conversation. The panic in his voice propelled us all through the door and into the living room.
Libby stood in the middle of the room, bent over double, clutching her stomach. “The baby,” she gasped. “It’s coming.”
FORTY-ONE
Ripper
When we got to the barn, Dwight removed Bear’s leg irons. Darryl watched, his shotgun at the ready. Most mornings, Bear moved five horses from the stable to a corral, then he went back to the stable and scooped crap and soiled straw into a wheelbarrow.
My gaze wandered over the grounds while Bear moved the first horse. I know squat about ranching, but from my handful of days on the property, even I could see that Valhalla would need major renovation once we kicked out the brigade.
No matter how hard they worked Bear, there’s no way one man could keep the place going. Dwight told me that they’d loaded a pickup and dropped off hay several times, and that Bear insisted that he had to mend a broken-down fence. But don’t cattle have to be moved around from one pasture to another? What happens if they’re left to wander on their own for months? Maybe they could fend for themselves. Maybe they’d long since succumbed to hunger or thirst or whatever it is that kills cows. Maybe they’d found a break in some fence and took off—literally—for greener pastures.
Horses aren’t my ride. Only thing I want between my legs is my Harley. Or Mac. Still, it struck me as wrong that these magnificent beasts weren’t allowed to run. How long could they live such a constrained life without crippling them or breaking their spirits?
It was past time to make things right at Valhalla.
Bear finished moving the horses to the corral, but instead of returning to the stable to clean out the stalls, he led us to a series of outbuildings on the west side of the barn. He picked today to vary his habits? Great.
Funny how quickly a plan can go sideways, how freakishly fast a simple, bulletproof strategy can go tits-up, giving the lie to both the notion of simple and bulletproof. Believing that anything nowadays was easy or straightforward was laughable. I knew better, but I fucked up.
Maybe hubris bit me in the ass. Maybe the dumb luck I despised ran out. Maybe the dipshit brothers were smarter than I thought.
Nah. It had to be the luck.
“What’s he up to?” I asked Dwight as we approached the open-sided building that held three tractors.
“Something on the tractor is busted. He said he needs to fix it before he shovels out the stables.”
Bear stepped up to a long, tool-covered workbench that ran along one interior wall. Dwight waved his shotgun at the cowboy, and Darryl reached for his pistol.
“No funny business,” Darryl warned.
Bear lifted a wrench and shot the brothers an exasperated look.
“I have to clean the carburetor, sharpen the blade on the Bush Hog, and adjust the wheels. You think I can do that with my bare hands?”
The brothers scowled at him, but Dwight gestured for Bear to go ahead. While Bear set the brakes on the tractor and positioned jack stands to support the machinery’s weight, I surreptitiously scanned the hilltops for any sign of my friends. Nothing yet. Bear climbed under the tractor to loosen some bolts, then reemerged to open a small metal hatch on top of the frame. I couldn’t see what he was doing, probably messing with more nuts and bolts.
Dwight and Darryl’s attention wandered. After glancing their way, Bear crawled back under the tractor. When he got back on his feet, he stood awkwardly, an arm pressed to his side. He caught me looking and nodded toward his thigh. His fingers were wrapped around one end of what looked like a carbon-steel rotary blade. The thing was longer than his arm.
Bear had hijacked the mission. It was too late to dissuade him. As soon as Dwight or Darryl spied the blade, the jig would be up.
“What the fuck is that?” I pointed out an open bay door, drawing the brothers’ eyes away from their prisoner.
Dwight and Darryl’s heads snapped up, and they craned their necks to peer outside. Bear rushed toward them, swinging the blade two-handed, like a medieval broadsword. The steel struck Dwight’s shoulder. Bones crunched, and his shotgun clattered to the cement floor. Dwight howled in pain and dropped to the floor, cradling his shoulder. Darryl whirled around, raised his pistol, and fired.
FORTY-TWO
Kenzie
Jerrilyn took over, barking orders. “Boyd, help Libby back to your room. Nyx, put water on to boil. Tuck, go get the doctor.”
A single gunshot blast shattered the quiet outside.
Crap, what timing.
Jerrilyn glanced through the open front door. “The boys are probably shooting at rabbits again.”
“I’ll get towels,” I interrupted before she could assign me a task. I sprinted toward the bedroom, desperate to get Sahdev out of the house before Tuck discovered that he was missing and put two and two together.
Sahdev leaped to his feet when I ran into the room. I shoved a chair under the door knob and rushed over to slide open the window.
“Libby is in labor,” I gasped. “Tuck’s about to find out that you’re gone. You have to get out of the house right now.”
Instead of dashing toward the window, Sahdev stood rooted in place, shaking his head.
“Sahdev, come on,” I urged.
“And what about you and Nyx?” he asked.
“We’ll be fine. They have plans for us. They won’t throw away prime breeding stock.” I frantically beckoned him to the window.
Was that tapping sound footsteps running up the hall or my own jackhammering heart?
“I won’t leave you behind to face their wrath,” he said quietly. “And I won’t abandon Libby. She’s my patient.”
“She’s a freaking Nazi,” I hissed. I clutched at his arms, as if I could physically compel him to put himself first and to flee. We lived in a harsh new world and confronted brutal choices every day. I wished no harm on Libby, but if forced to choose, I’d pick Sahdev’s well-being over hers any day. “Once you deliver the baby, they’ll probably kill you for trying to escape.”
“The baby is an innocent, and you’re my friend. I won’t go.” He gently extricated himself from my hands, walked to the door and removed the barricade. Stepping into the hallway, he lifted his hands in an I surrender pose. “I’m here,” he called.
I followed him through the doorway and looked up the hall in time to see Boyd grab Sahdev’s arm and shove him toward Libby’s room. Boyd cast me a malevolent sideways glance, but said nothing as they passed by. Tuck walked toward me, his eyes glittering and a small smile distorting his lips. His gleeful expression raised goosebumps on my arms, and I almost tripped backing into the room. He followed me at an unhurried pace.