Unexpected (19 page)

Ryker shook his head
and answered him.  “I don’t think so.  Besides Cogan, you saved my life.  I owe you a debt.  My brother Thomas thinks the sun rises and sets on you, and Josie, well, I don’t think I have to tell you anything there.”

“You owe me nothing.”
He purposely avoided the hint about Josephine.  He knew exactly what Ryker was talking about.  She kissed him with fiery passion, and it had him heated up still. There was definitely something between them.

“Yes
, I do.” Ryker stated adamantly and smiled.  “I’ve seen some crazy shit these past few years.  You may not think so, but I see this as a blessing.  There are worse monsters out there and they all walk on two legs.  Yet, I’ve seen incredible kindness from you.  Nothing you can say will change that.”

“You may want to take that back.”

“No I won’t.”  He stared at him for a moment.  “So what happened to you exactly?”

“Nothing strange.
  I mean, it wasn’t anything that had divine or satanic intervention.  I was born this way, as was my father, and his father before him.”

“You were born this way?”

He nodded.  “Males only.  There are no females that we know of.  However, males are very rare, so our race isn’t in abundance. Most children born to a man like me are female.  They are very intelligent but live no longer than you or Josephine. We rarely run into one another.” He smirked. “I’ve been like this for near six hundred years and might have met half a dozen of my kind.”

“Fascinating.”

“For you.  It’s not easy living so long and seeing humanity kill each other over petty things.”

“Do you have any family left?”

He shook his head. “I was an only child.  My mother died when I was about ten and my father was hunted and slaughtered.”

“Jesus.”

“Back then, werewolves were feared even though we didn’t really kill people.  We were hunters, but people taste like shit.”

Ryker shouldn’t have, but he laughed out loud.

“I was the son of a Knight Templar, taken in by a family friend, a fellow knight, and raised as his squire, then knighted. He didn’t have any sons, so he raised me as his own.  I was very lucky to have him. I was eighteen when I fought my first war.  It was a bloody mess.” He cast him a sideways glance. “I’ll never get that first smell of death out of my mind.”

“So when do you—well, change?”

“Whenever I want.  I know what legends speak of, with full moons and such, but it’s like a switch I can turn on and off.  When I hit puberty though, that was a tough thing to handle.  I scared the life out of people.” He chuckled.

“I’ve heard of those Templar Knights.  Legends, protectors of the innocent and all that, right?”

“Then betrayed by our pope and our king, yes, but I’m not so sure we were great protectors.  We waged wars in the name of God, but slaughtered innocents.  When we became wealthier than the church, we were eliminated.  We were accused of worshiping false gods, witchcraft, blasphemy and my personal favorite, sodomy.  That was a little hard to do considering we took a vow of chastity.  We took our vows very seriously.”

Ryker made an expression of distaste.
“I thought my last few years were hell.  It sounds like you’ve lived more in darkness then we have.”

“It got better after the sixteen hundreds.  People became more civilized. I know it doesn’t seem like they have, with
battles like the Spanish-American war, but believe me you have. I was twenty-four when my brethren were burned at the stake, for those charges I mentioned.  They were tortured until they confessed. My mentor, the man who raised me, and who I saw as my father after the death of my own, faced that fate.  His name was Jacques de Molay, and he was the last Grandmaster of the Knights Templar. He then recanted his confession, and for this, was burned alive slowly while cursing King Phillip and Pope Clement V who led this debacle.  I didn’t find out until later that he was even arrested or I would have interfered, though I doubt he would have let me. I was on a sabbatical in the mountains.  It was when I was deep into my faith.” He sighed heavily remembering that day like yesterday. “People said that it was de Molay’s curse that killed the king and the pope.  They both died within a year after his death.  However, not before they killed every last one of my brothers in arms save a very few that had died over the years in hiding.  As far as I know, I am the last.”

“Were there other knights like you—I mean with your talents?”

He chuckled at the compliment.  “No.  I was the only one I knew of.  I appreciate your description of my ability though. It’s not often people associate it with anything positive. I mean, we’ve been called cursed, Satan worshipers, and cannibals.” 

“Well, hell, that is the most depressing thing I heard in a long time.  Now I understand why you think living so long is a curse. 
For a minute there I thought I could sell my soul for that gift.  Now I’m not so sure. I couldn’t handle seeing everyone I loved die.”

“And you won’t.  I made an oath to protect this family.”

“Well, now that Butch thinks there’s a big grizzly running around, I’m sure he’ll bring in some bear hunters.”

Cogan scoffed
.

“I take it you killed that
man that shot you.”

“Yeah.
  I let Deak live though.  I think he crapped his pants.”

Ryker laughed
louder than last time.

***

The next morning Josephine opened her eyes to the sun shining through her window.  Then she recalled the events the night before and sat up quickly looking around.  She was in her own room.  Was that all a dream? 

Without another thought she jumped out of bed,
grabbed her robe and threw it on as she ran through her door down to Cogan’s room.  Without knocking, she flung the door open and saw that his bed was neatly made like he’d not even been there.  Maybe she did dream it all.  Maybe he didn’t come home last night.  Then her heart started pounding in her chest.  Now she hoped that wasn’t a dream.  She didn’t care as long as he was alive. “Ryker!”  She rushed downstairs and through the house. “Ryker!”

“Good heavens
Josephine, go get dressed!” scolded Hattie who came rushing out of the kitchen at the panicked sound of her niece’s voice.  “What would our house guest think seeing you standing there like that?”

“Cogan?
”  She quickly buttoned up her robe.

“Who else?
  Are you sick?”

“Was he here this morning?”

She looked confused. “Of course he was.  He ate enough for two of him then rode out early.  What is going on?”

She just stood there
stunned.

“
Josephine Hamilton, I’ll not scold you again.  Go get dressed! Young ladies do not run around the house half naked. Your mother would have a fit.”

“Yes ma’am,”
she finally said turning and going back to her room.

Hattie clucked her tongue, something she’d been doing a lot lately around there. 

***

Cogan surveyed the landscape after he’d buried what was left of Doyle.  He obviously was very pissed off when he tore into him.  His body was a shredded mess, and attracted all sorts of predators from the way he’d found it that morning.  He was collecting pieces for two hours.  Regardless of his si
ns, he deserved a proper burial.  The only person he’d leave out to rot with the buzzards would be Butch McAllister.  He stood over the fresh mound of earth and said a prayer
.

Apparently
Butch thought he hired a good marksman, but anyone could have hit Cogan from that distance.  He was hard to miss.

He turned and mounted back up
on his stallion and rode back toward the ranch.  He had to face his future wife sooner or later.  Sooner would be a best option because women’s emotions festered like wounds.  At least he always had that experience.  Josie was different though.  He wasn’t sure what to expect from her.  One thing was certain, he couldn’t get the feel of that woman’s body out of his mind.

He told her the truth when he mentioned his past loves, but he knew for a fact, that neither of them affected him as quickly as Josephine Hamilton did.  He was drawn to her
in a way that he couldn’t explain.  It was unfortunate he didn’t have more teachings from his father about his kind. He’d had to discover things on his own.

He reined up as he came over the rise that was directly in view of the house.
Unknown to him,  it was the same area Butch and his men sat the night before while they plotted his murder.

This was a beautiful view and he could easily get use
d to settling here.  Small towns weren’t his favorite because of the mob mentality townsfolk can have, but the Hamiltons were very easy to care about.  Then there was that other thing.  He’d been alone for so long he’d forgotten what it was like to feel for someone.  The last family he had were his brothers in arms. 

Josephine came out on the porch at that moment and raised her hand to shield her eyes from the midmorning sun.  She must’ve seen him on the rise. 

He nudged his horse forward and headed toward the house.

Josie did see him.  She was helping Hattie set the table for lunch when she noticed a man on horseback through the wi
ndow.  She knew it was Cogan, and her heart skipped a beat.  She chastised herself because she still emotionally reacted to him despite the shock he dropped last night.

She had all morning to reflect on it. This wasn’t normal at all.  There was something sinister about what he could do, but as Ryker reminded her, he had been protecting them from Butch.  If Cogan was an evil man, he wouldn’t have put his life in danger repeatedly for them.

Then there was how she felt about him.  Her heart beat faster in her chest, her stomach leapt and she anticipated seeing him every day. So, she had a dilemma.  She was in love with a half man, half beast.  Something seemed so wrong about it, but her heart told her different.  She struggled with her sanity and her feelings, but well, she was a woman.  Her heart won, hands down.

Now as she stood on the porch he came down the dusty road looking as tall and handsome as ever.  The dogs tore out of the yard and raced to greet him.  It was no wonder animals loved him so much, he was part animal himself and knew how to relate to them.  Her heart softened more in her chest.  That alone should convince her that he was a good man.  
Animal’s instincts are pretty difficult to fool.

He nudged his stallion toward her and tipped his hat. “Good day Josie.”

“I’ve been worried.”

He smiled.  “No need.”  He swung his long leg over the back of the animal, dismounting.  She never ceased to surprise him.  There was no anger, no fear, just concern.

She came down the porch and approached him. “You have a bullet wound in your gut Cogan.”

He lifted his shirt showing her his hard flat muscled abdomen.  There was a slight discoloration from the gunshot wound the night before.  It looked like an old scar
that had several years to heal. “I’m fine.  I told you that last night.”

Without thinking about it, her fingers traced the area.  He was warm and solid, but he was right.  There was no trace of the puckering that was evident last night.

He reached up and took her hand in his. “See? No worries.” She didn’t have a clue what those delicate fingers could arouse in him. He had to stop her. Unlike last time, she didn’t remove her hand from his, but let him hold it.

“I’ve got to get my gear off of my horse.” He turned and started walking toward the barn, but ended up pulling her along with him. His other hand gripped his stallion’s reins.

“I’d like to know more about you Cogan.”

“Fair enough.
  Ask me anything.”

“Where are you from?”

“England.  Well, my mother was Scottish, my father was English.  My father was a knight, my mother from a wealthy family.  When my father died, I was left in the care of my father’s friend.”

“You don’t have an accent.  Don’t people from there have accents?”

“Yes, I’ve masked it over the years. I’ve needed to. Immigrants aren’t treated so nicely here. So, I’ve grown accustomed to your western ways I suppose.  When I get angry, though, it slips out.”

She smiled.

He went on to tell her the rest of the story of his upbringing, battles, family, and the betrayal.  By the time he was done, and she’d exhausted her own curiosity through a barrage of questions, several hours had passed.  She was sitting on a pile of straw in the barn as he talked, fascinated and horrified at the same time.  He finished stripping his horse, rubbing him down, and putting him in a stall while answering her queries.  When he was done he sat beside her.

“So, you were shot, and didn’t die.  Is there anything that can kill you?”
She didn’t like asking that question, but she had to know.  She had to know everything about him.

He shrugged his big shoulders.  “
I’m sure there are some ways that I don’t know about. When I was a child, my father was hunted down by the villagers and slaughtered.  He was cut into pieces and the pieces were burned.”