My Angel (6 page)

Read My Angel Online

Authors: Christine Young

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Contemporary, #General, #Historical

BOOK: My Angel
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Her sweaty hands clutched the fabric of her skirt. Angela turned slowly, searching out every dark nook, every door left open. She saw no one she recognized. Not Devil. Not Emma. In the few seconds it had taken her to race from the hotel, they had disappeared.

 

"Where did you go, Devil Blackmoor, and what did you do with Emma Barringer. If you've hurt her in anyway, I'll skin you alive."

 

Angela had been trained by the most skilled warriors in the
Dakotas
. She should be able to find two people. She had to--for Dakota and Jacob. They shared a common bond of love and friendship.

 

What affected one, affected them both. Loyalty to each other ran strong and deep.

 

Now Devil had brought in Dakota's woman. Devil was a gun for hire. In the weeks that had passed, Angela had found out all she could about Devil Blackmoor. Nothing she'd heard except his profession could be accepted as fact. What she'd heard had to be rumor, the tales too fantastic to believe. Yet...

 

He was a Russian prince.
My foot.

 

He was the son of a Turkish sultan and owned an exotic harem of over one hundred women at his beck and call. Even less believable.

 

She'd heard that Lawrence Stevens, Emma's stepfather, was paying Devil twenty thousand dollars to bring Emma back to
Denver
. Emma was part of her family now, and in Angela's eyes, family was everything.

 

That allegiance made Devil Blackmoor her enemy.

 

Dakota wouldn't let Emma go without a fight. She was suddenly very worried about Dakota.

 

"Angela!"

 

Her heart skipped a beat. She'd recognize that voice anywhere. "No," she said. "Not now."

 

Her father's fingers wound around her arm, effectively stopping her blind rush into the nearest saloon.

 

"What are you up to?" he asked.

 

"Nothing, Papa."

 

That earned her a sour look, but she didn't dare tell her father she'd been about to step through the swinging doors in front of her into the Gold Nugget Saloon.

 

"Emma..." The impact of what had just occurred hit hard.

 

"Angela?" Sam asked, seemingly confused.

 

Angela turned to him. "Papa!" She sounded frantic. She was.

 

"What are you doing here?" Sam stood beside her, waiting for an answer to his earlier question.

 

"I saw Emma with Devil Blackmoor."

 

Sam swore under his breath. "Dakota and Trey were supposed to protect Emma."

 

"It's true then," Angela said softly, her heart hammering her fear against her ribs. Devil Blackmoor was dangerous. She knew firsthand just how dangerous he was.

 

"Perhaps. I'll look around. I mean to find out where he's taken Emma.'' Sam turned Angela in the direction of the hotel and nudged her forward.

 

"I'm going with you." She was determined.

 

"No." Sam was more tenacious.

 

"But--"

 

"No." With that said Sam once again nudged her toward the hotel and watched her walk down the street, away from the red-light district. When she looked back, he watched her still.

 

~ * ~

 

"You have a hell of a lot of nerve coming here."

 

The voices in the other room woke Angela. She brushed the hair from her eyes, blinking the sleep away. Even though she'd tried to wait up for her father, she'd fallen asleep without seeing him and finding out what happened to Emma or where Dakota was.

 

Now she heard the clink of glasses, the slosh of liquid.

 

The quilt covering her slipped silently to the floor. Angela swung her legs off the bed then made her way to the door. She leaned against the wall. Her fingers trembling, she opened the door a crack.

 

She saw her father hand Devil a drink.

 

Devil nodded his expression cold. "I promised Emma I'd check out her story. I have, and I'm disturbed by what I found out."

 

Absorbed in the conversation, Angela wiped her sweaty palms on her nightdress. She inched closer, the floorboards creaking under her weight.

 

"But you turned her over to the bastard anyway." Dakota stepped in front of Devil. His jaw was clenched, his fists tight.

 

Angela sucked in her breath.
He didn 't.
Angela" s words were spoken only to herself, but silence suddenly filled the room. And she knew deep down in her heart Devil had betrayed them all.

 

Devil tensed.

 

"I'd given my word to Lawrence Stevens. He is her stepfather, and I did believe he had her best interests at heart. The lady is wanted for murder. Stevens promised me he'd protect her. Besides, Emma left me no alternative when she refused to explain her part in this matter. I gave her ample opportunity. She could have told me what happened, why her face adorned wanted posters all over the state. Instead she chose to remain silent. Emma didn't trust me until I was in the process of handing her over to the man himself. By then her words of innocence were uttered too late."

 

He did.
Angela slipped to the cold, hard floor, her back pressing against a table leg. A shudder began deep inside and worked its way out until she could barely control her limbs. A bittersweet ache lodged in the back of her heart.

 

He did.

 

"Now I'm asking you: if I was wrong, tell me and I'll help in any way possible. Who killed Emma's mother? And why was there a wanted poster on Emma Barringer?"

 

"Stevens killed Emma's mother," Sam said.

 

"He poisoned her and blamed it on Emma, hoping to install Emma in one of his whorehouses." Dakota paced back and forth in front of the door, his muscles flexed with tension and primed for a fight.

 

"I will help right this wrong," Devil said, his voice strong and determined.

 

Angela couldn't see Dakota but she heard him stop, felt the tensions escalate. "Ask the devil to help? I'm not a fool."

 

Devil sat still, showing no emotion when Dakota turned on him. No one seemed eager to further the explanation.

 

"
Lawrence
's man shot Jacob. He's going to be all right in a couple of days," Devil said.

 

No!
Angela felt the floor drop out from under her.
Jacob has been shot?

 

"I think he discovered something." Devil showed no emotion, his stoic features still hard and unreadable. "I would keep an eye on Emma and watch the house. What better man to give aid than one who is trusted by the opposition?" he asked. "If you keep me informed of the truth, I can make sure no real harm comes to Emma."

 

Suddenly Angela meant to find a way to help Emma. Emma could hang. Jacob had been shot. The Pinkertons were after Emma, as was every bounty hunter this side of the
Mississippi
. Dakota and Emma needed all the allies they could find.

 

"
Lawrence
is keeping her drugged," Devil said.

 

"Son of a bitch!" Dakota's fist hit the wall beside Angela.

 

She flinched, her startled gasp echoing around the room she was in.

 

Once more Dakota paced. His long, sleek strides back and forth got him nowhere.

 

Wild and untamed, Dakota had always been one to act first and think later. Angela knew he wanted to barge into the bordello and drag Emma out. He couldn't. If he did, the two of them would be hunted fugitives once more. Or dead. Emma was wanted by the law, dead or alive. No, the time had come to find proof against Stevens and Madame leBon.

 

If the sheriff discovered Emma before they had any facts that would prove her innocence, Emma could very well hang. Dakota's hands were tied until they had something to hold over Lawrence Stevens's head.

 

Devil's fingers rested on the butt of his gun. They drew Angela's gaze.
Oh, Lord,
She heated from the toes up. It was all she could do to concentrate on the conversation instead of remembering the touch of his hands upon her, the way they made her body come alive.

 

His mouth against hers, his lips--the liquid heat he evoked.

 

His caress had been strong and sure and so very tender. With his touch came pure bliss and heavenly satisfaction.

 

"An auction is being planned for Friday night." Devil spoke again, his voice low. The sound wrapped around her heart and stole her breath. "Emma is the main attraction.
Lawrence
is advertising heavily and holding peep shows three times a day."

 

"I'll kill him!" Dakota slammed his fist against the palm of his hand.

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