Sworn to Protect (Vows of the Heart) (4 page)

Dobbs had shot Simon in the chest and Richardson pointed his gun straight at her.

But in the face of the hellish demon emerging from the mirror, a gun was the least of her worries. Bethany heard the vile scream again and felt icy fingers on the back of her neck. The two marshals blocked the door. There was only one way out of the room.

In two strides
, Bethany jumped to the bed closest to the window, nearly falling as the mattress gave under her foot. Bullets hit the bedding, but she leapt and brought up her arms to protect her head and face. She dove through the window, glass exploding around her, and hit the ground hard. Bullets zinged through the broken window. She looked up to see two men running toward her from the parking lot, guns drawn. Aaron’s ghost shrieked behind her. She hauled herself up and darted to the left, along the row of motel rooms.

“Lancaster,” a voice barked. “Get the girl!”

Bethany glanced over her shoulder and saw one man wearing a long black trench coat, his long, dark hair streaming behind him, break away and sprint after her. Her vision tunneled, focusing on the gun he carried.

Oh God! Oh God!
Terror possessed her, she ran harder coming to the corner of the motel. If she could escape around back, she might be able to lose the man chasing her.

Aaron’s apparition appeared before her, still wailing, his dead hands reaching for her throat.
Bethany screamed and tried to stop. Her feet slid out from under her and she hit the ground a second time. She crawled backwards.

Hands seized her from behind. Bethany cried out, fighting, terror giving her strength. The man with the trench coat and
long hair hauled her up.

Only one thought possessed her.
I’m going to die!

****

Ethan grabbed the girl with a thick mane of auburn hair. Thank God she had stopped, although he wasn’t sure why. If she had made it around the building, he would have had a hell of a time catching her. His stamina sucked right now and he found himself out of breath with just the short sprint. Hauling her to his chest, he backed against the wall. Pain blazed through him as he was forced to use his left arm to grab her, but he ignored it, praying she hadn’t been hit.

The girl fought him, screaming in terror. Ethan tightened his hold, pressing her firmly against his chest. “Stop it,” he barked. “I’m one of the good guys.”

Shanahan moved to cover the door to the motel room but Ethan could barely see him. The sharp report of a gun sounded several times.

The girl was too terrified to hear him and continued to fight. Ethan gritted his teeth against the battering she dealt to his damaged arm. “Damn it, woman,” he growled. “I’m an ATF agent. Knock it off or I’ll shoot you myself.”

Her head jerked up and she stared at him in surprise. Ethan instantly lost himself in the most beautiful green eyes he had ever seen. For a heartbeat, time seemed to stop. The woman he held so tightly to him was exquisite, tall and lithe. Her face was perfect except for the cut on her forehead trickling blood from her dive through the window.

“ATF?” s
he whispered. “You…you’re the second witness.”

“Yeah,” he said, his gut clenching.

“I saw…I saw…” She shook her head. “Richardson tried to kill me.” She trembled like a leaf in his arms and he could not tear his gaze from hers. The fear in her eyes….

Movement in the parking lot caught Ethan’s attention and he swore violently as he saw another man approaching, his gun pointed at Shanahan’s back. Ethan shoved the girl behind him. The man fired once before Ethan could get off a shot. Shanahan lurched in the doorway. Ethan squeezed the trigger and the man went down in the parking lot.

Shanahan backpedaled out of the door, blood staining his left side.

“Shanahan, move it!” Ethan barked. He grabbed the girl’s hand and hauled her toward the marshal. “Get to the car!”

The man staggered to him, yanking his keys from his pocket and handing them to Ethan. “Drive,” he growled hoarsely.

“Get in the car,” Ethan snapped, shoving the woman forward. “Keep your head down.” He pulled Shanahan’s arm over his shoulders. To his surprise the woman didn’t charge for the car, instead she grabbed Shanahan’s free arm and did her best to help him.

A man clutching a belly wound appeared in the door of the motel room, shooting wildly. Ethan tried to stay low and move forward with the wounded marshal.

The woman grabbed the door handle to the back seat and yanked, shoving Shanahan inside and tumbling in after him. Ethan slammed the door and returned fire. The man in the doorway fell and didn’t move.

Ethan vaulted into the car, the engine roaring to life, and rocketed out of the parking lot. An approaching dark sedan tried to ram them in the driveway. Ethan hit the gas and narrowly squeaked past. The sedan took out a telephone pole on the sidewalk, crumpling the radiator. Two more men in suits, obviously deputy marshals, bounded out and fired their guns.

“What the hell?” Ethan growled, instinctively ducking as he turned away from them. “Are they on Cordova’s payroll or do they think we’re the bad guys?”

The sharp sound of bullets hitting steel resounded then the back window exploded. The girl cried out in fear, trying to shield her head. Ethan floored the accelerator and turned a sharp corner, nearly taking out two other cars. But the hail of bullets stopped and Ethan was able to straighten in his seat.

Watching for a tail, he headed off in no particular direction. He didn’t care where he went, just as long as people weren’t shooting at him.

“Oh God,” the woman muttered.

Ethan heard the sound of tearing material. He glanced in the rear view mirror and saw Shanahan slumped in the back seat, the woman ripping his shirt and pressing the fabric against the gaping wound in his side.

“He’s bleeding badly,” she said.

Ethan saw Shanahan’s face, a terrible pallid gray.

Shanahan swallowed hard, struggling to stay conscious. “Bethany,” he said hoarsely, “what happened?”

“Richardson and his partner came in, asking for you,” she said, her voice faint. “I…I…oh God….” Her voice broke. Her hand shook violently has she covered her face, her skin almost as gray as Shanahan’s. “They killed Simon and tried to shoot me.”

“Were you hit?” Ethan asked her worriedly.

“No. The only way out was through the window so I took it.”

“Gutsy move,” Shanahan said weakly.

Bethany sucked in her breath, looking up at Ethan. “He’s losing a lot of blood, we’ve got to get him to a hospital.”

“No,” Shanahan snapped. “If Richardson was on Cordova’s payroll that means the bastard’s got reach into the Marshals office just like he does with the DEA and ATF. Lancaster, it’s up to you to hide Bethany.”

Shit, he didn’t need this, not at all. “Don’t you have another safe house in the area?”

“Not one that wouldn’t be compromised. Come on, Lancaster, surely ATF has a few bolt-holes around here.”

“If I know about them, other agents know about them. I’m not so sure we got rid of all Cordova’s cronies. We found one but that’s not Cordova’s style, he has a penchant for redundancy. And that doesn’t change the fact we still have to get you to a hospital.” He glanced again at the girl. “Hey, baby, do you know this area?”

She glared at him and Ethan knew he had pissed her off. He fought down an unexpected smile. He usually pissed everyone off sooner or later. But she ignored his comment and answered his question. “Turn right at the light, there should be one up ahead.”

“Her name is Bethany Kress,” Shanahan said sternly. “She’s the DEA’s informant. Aside from you, she’s the only witness left alive who can testify against Cordova. I suggest you treat her with a little more respect.”

Ethan glanced at her again. “Ethan Lancaster, ATF.” Shanahan’s expression eased, but Ethan continued. “It looks like you and me are in the same boat, sweetheart.” So much for respect.

“Asshole,” she muttered.

“Hey, this asshole just saved your life.”

“What do you want a medal or a chest to pin it on?”

“Knock it off!” Shanahan barked then grimaced. “Lancaster, what happened to Floyd?”

Ethan shook his head grimly. “Took two right in the heart, Shanahan, he’s just another statistic now.”

Bethany gasped. “What an awful thing to say.”

“We live in an awful world, sweetheart. You should have figured that out by now.”

“But you’re supposed to be one of the good guys.”

“Yeah, so they keep telling me.”

“Ignore him, Bethany,” Shanahan said, his voice growing weaker.

“Hold on,” Ethan growled. “We’re almost there. Bethany, we’re going to get him in and we have to get out fast. I don’t want anyone taking notice of us. You got that?”

She didn’t reply. Ethan again glanced at her in the mirror. Her face was still gray except for the red on her cheeks from his insults.

“Are you sure you weren’t hit?”

“Just leave me the fuck alone,” she snapped her eyes liquid.

“Whatever,” he growled.

“Bethany,” Shanahan said. “Calm down. Lancaster is the only chance you got. Considering Cordova managed to buy off some of our deputies, the only ones I would have trusted with your safety are dead now. I’m not sure if I entirely trust you either, Lancaster. Strange things can happen to people undercover.”

“What do
you mean by that?” Ethan snapped.

“You just make sure Cordova doesn’t harm a hair on her head
, or I’ll take it out of your hide.”

Ethan glared at him in the rear
view mirror then pulled into the emergency room driveway. Shanahan winced at the bumps. Served the asshole right, questioning his loyalty like that. But a tiny voice whispered in Ethan’s mind, Shanahan had every right after Ethan’s failure. Growling a curse, Ethan slammed the gearshift into park.

****

Bethany couldn’t stop shaking, or take her eyes off the giant of a man who had pulled her to safety. She was certain he stood over six foot six and he had the shoulders of a linebacker. A white cotton shirt stretched tight over his powerful chest. His waist was narrow, his faded blue jeans fitting snugly over trim hips and bulwark thighs. God, he had long legs. Lancaster unfolded himself from the car, his walk swung relaxed and confident as he went inside the emergency room. His walk reminded her of a gunfighter’s loose-limbed stride. She snorted to herself, she had been watching too much TV while cooped up in the motel room.

The ghostly face in the mirror hovered in memory. Bethany squeezed her eyes closed and shivered violently.

Lancaster returned a moment later and hurried toward the car, with two orderlies and a stretcher in tow. He wore a long black leather trench coat which streamed out behind him. That coat no doubt had resulted in her gunslinger analogy. On his belt, he had clipped his gold badge. His long hair fell past his shoulders. What struck Bethany was that his hair first appeared black, but on closer inspection under the sunlight, it was a rich mahogany, shining dark gold and reds in the light. She had never met a man whose very presence knocked the wind from her lungs.

Despite the glittering badge he wore, Lancaster’s clothing, his hair,
and especially his attitude screamed bad-boy. He was a wolf who didn’t even bother with the sheep’s clothing - a wolf with a badge, a gun, and government training.

Lancaster grabbed the door and yanked it open, reaching to help Bethany. His hand closed on her arm and he nearly lifted her out of the car like a rag doll. She squeaked as he pushed her behind him.

“Stay next me,” he growled in a deep voice that sent shivers down her spine. “I don’t care if you have to hang on to my belt loops, I don’t want to be separated from you for a moment during this mayhem.”

Bethany glared up at him, her temper pricking. Dark, wrap-around sunglasses, the kind that were so popular in the military, shielded his ey
es. He glanced at the orderlies as they carefully tried to pull Shanahan from the car, then looked back at her. Well-shaped eyebrows collided in the middle of his forehead as he scowled at her.

Lancaster reached up and pulled off his sunglasses for a moment, returning her glare. Bethany’s heart slammed into her throat. His eyes were such a pale blue they appeared gray. They burned like molten mercury, framed by thick black lashes. No wonder he wore sunglasses. With eyes like his, he had to, otherwise females would drop in a dead faint in his wake.

His face would make a model green with envy, a broad forehead, a straight aristocratic nose, and high, prominent cheekbones angling down to a strong jaw. His lips were full, perfectly shaped, and sensuous. Bethany briefly wondered with lips like that if he knew how to kiss the socks off a woman.

“You got a problem?” Lancaster growled.

Bethany realized that although she was admiring him, she was also still glaring at him with her arms folded over her chest. “I hear and obey, oh master,” she spat.

Lancaster’s scowl deepened
, but a nurse approached with a clipboard.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said. “I need some information.”

He turned, every movement balanced and graceful. He slid his sunglasses back into place before he faced the nurse and answered some of her questions.