Christmas Heat(5)

For the moment.

Once he knew Haley was safe, once he made her life his primary objective, he would no longer be able to claim that singular independence. And he knew it.

He raced into town, slowing the cycle and easing it around traffic, bending over the padded chest rest and gearing down as he glimpsed the flames that blazed around the library. And he felt the roar that discharged from his chest at the sight of the twisted, ruined, blazing hulk of Haley's truck. A roar of bloodlust and animalistic rage. Someone was going to pay. Dear God, if she was in that truck, if she was gone forever, then blood would flow.

Chapter 2

Haley shuddered in the blanket Zane Taggart had wrapped €around her. The sheriff was kneeling in front of her as she sat sideways in his cruiser, her feet on the ground, the heat from the vents blasting over her upper body. Still, she shuddered from the cold and the fear.

Zane was one of those men in Buffalo Gap Haley had known almost since the cradle. He was a few years older than she, so he had always been a little protective of her. Zane was protective of all women though. He wasn't in uniform, so he must have been off duty when the explosion happened. He was dressed in jeans, a dark flannel shirt, and a heavy quilted overshirt.

He was staring at her silently as she gripped the cup of hot coffee he had pressed into her hands seconds ago, his expression concerned.

"You should let the paramedics look at you, Haley." He reached out and brushed her hair gently off her forehead.

"I'm fine." A sob hitched her breath, shuddered through her body. "Patricia's not okay, Zane." More tears leaked from her eyes.

She couldn't seem to hold them back. Patricia was gone, and it was all her fault. Because she had let Patricia borrow her truck, had given her the keys because it was going to snow. Lazy fluffy flakes were already drifting through the air, but they no longer held the magical appeal they had only a few hours ago.

Flames still burned inside the library. The fire blazing around the building and the vehicles that had caught fire were more important than the books inside a building that would contain its own flames.

"No, Patricia's not okay, Haley." Zane sighed and stared through the windshield before turning back to her.

"You have to tell me what happened, honey."

"I don't know." She stared back at Zane in shock. "It was going to snow. You know how pitiful Patricia's car is in the snow." Another sob tore free. How pitiful it had been. The explosion had destroyed several other vehicles as well, Patricia's being one of them.

She lowered her head, fighting the sobs that shook her shoulders as Zane patted her knee.

"Come on, Haley." He lifted her chin until he was staring back at her. "You gave Patricia your keys, right?" She nodded unsteadily. "So she could get to town after the snow. She hates being snowed in."

"Yes, she hates that." Zane nodded. "Go on."

"That's all," she whispered. "She went out to leave. I turned the television back on. I wanted to see the snow." Her lips trembled. "They were showing the snow in other states, and I wanted to see it. And then . . ." She blinked and shook her head.

She had to stop crying. She had to remember what Jonas Wyatt and Noble had told her. She couldn't tell anyone what had happened at Sanctuary until the hearing. But she knew, oh God, she knew Patricia had died because of it. Somehow, some way, the Breeds' enemies knew what she had seen and overheard. She knew it. She could feel it crawling over her skin, digging its way inside her brain.

"Haley." Zane stared up at her, his blue eyes sharp, concerned, but knowing. "You have to tell me what's going on here, honey. Someone blew up your truck. That wasn't an accident. You and I both know it wasn't an accident. Now, you have to tell me why."

She shook her head. She couldn't lie to Zane. She was a horrible liar, and she knew it. And she couldn't look him in the eye when he was staring at her like that. Determined and worried, compassion and pain glittering in his eyes.

She looked at her truck, and her stomach ached with the sobs and the fear she was holding in. Her chest felt constricted, tight, and filled with pain.

There was nothing left of Patricia. She was gone, while the snow drifted through the air, and the flames billowed around them.

Firefighters were working to put out the blazes, several twisted hunks of vehicles were nothing but charred skeletal remains of what they had been.

"We found a breed, Haley," Zane told her then.

Her head jerked around in terror. Haley could feel the rest of the blood leeching from her body, agony tearing through her.

"No." Sometimes Noble came in late. Returned books, helped her lock up.

"He was shot behind the library. Someone killed him. Now tell me what the hell is going on, or I'm taking you in for your own protection."

"Who?" The word wheezed out of her as her stomach churned sickeningly. She was rocking, slowly, back and forth, and didn't notice as the coffee cup slipped from her grip and crashed to the ground. She was going to throw up.

"Who was the breed?" She nearly pushed Zane back as she forced herself to her feet. The quilt dropped behind her. "Where is he?"