Dark Heart Wolf - Haley Weir Page 0,22

to twitch. He hated trains. He hated not being in control of his surroundings. At least a horse could stop with a simple command. Trains derailed all the time, and that was if they didn’t get raided on the way to their destination. Just in the past week, four trains leaving the Colorado Territory had been ambushed by outlaws. A felled tree on the tracks that forced the conductor, engineer, and brakeman to act quickly or else crash. By the time the train screeched to a halt, the bandits were in position.

On another occasion, an explosion had sent the passenger car and baggage car careening over a rocky cliff and into a ravine where a different gang had been lying in wait. Sam paced in front of the cargo and thought of every scenario. Mary Ann surprised him. She was calm and watchful, staring down the barrel of her rifle where it was perched on one of the small windows near the roof of the baggage car. She was on her belly, laid across a pile of luggage. "There's nothin' in my sights. What about yours?"

"I ain't seen nothin' but trees and planes of snow," Sam snapped in response.

"Have the others moved into position?"

"I can't hear a damn thing over the sound of this train, so I have no idea."

Mary Ann peered at him over her shoulder and arched her eyebrow. "You're panickin', Samuel. Is somethin' wrong?"

He hung his head and leaned against the wall. "The last time I was on a train was to rob it," he admitted. "Because I didn't get to the lockboxes in the express car in time, the U.S. Marshal and a couple of bounty hunters showed up. It was a shootout, and nine people were killed because I refused to surrender when the gang was taken down."

Mary Ann was silent, but the conviction in her eyes never faltered.

"I've fought in wars, Mary. Some were less important than others; some were fought to shape the course of our history. I've seen things that most people could not stomach." Sam scrubbed his hand over his face. "But watchin' those people gettin' killed because of me...I don't know. I guess it stuck with me more than I thought."

"Sam—” Mary Ann's words were cut off by the sound of a gun firing. She stared through her sights. "No one is comin'."

"That's because they're already on the train." Sam rushed towards the door and threw it open. Mary Ann squeezed the trigger on her rifle.

"Wendigos! And lots of them!"

"Come on. That gun of yours won't slow them down much." Sam helped her down, and they moved from the baggage car to the one that carried the passengers. He opened the carriage door and froze in place. Ethan Tate's eyes stared back at him, but the rotting stench of the Wendigo Spirit hovered in the air. He held Abigail by the throat at the center of the aisle. Nine men stood up from their seats, holding guns that were aimed at the other passengers. No one made a sound. No one moved. Abigail's furious gaze stared straight ahead as if she were fantasizing about all the ways she wanted to kill the man that held her captive.

"Welcome to our little social, Samuel Cassady," Tate snickered. "Been a long time since this mortal's eyes looked upon you. The years ain't been kind."

“I could say the same about Ethan. Last I saw him, he wasn’t wearin’ a pungent odor of decay like an expensive cologne.” Sam moved to block Mary Ann. He had hoped his actions would go unnoticed by Ethan, but the Wendigo Spirit’s eyes saw everything. Sam clenched his jaw and flexed his muscles, ready to fight if the creature took even one step towards his mate.

Mate…

Sam still struggled with the comprehension that Mary Ann was his. He didn’t know if he could ever love her completely—not with the ghost of Savannah still creeping into his thoughts. But Sam wanted to give her everything good that was still left inside of him. The touch of her hand at the small of his back caused his body to twitch slightly as she reached for the knife tucked into his belt. Ethan grazed a sharp claw down the length of Abigail’s neck, the sharp hiss she let out brought Sam’s attention back to his sister-in-law.

“You gone be all right, Abbey. Ain’t one of us gettin’ off this train without you.”

She gave a sad smile. “None of us will be getting off of