Her Reaper's Arms, Charlotte Boyett-Compo [world best books to read .TXT] 📗

I know what she’s hungry

for.”

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Her Reaper’s Arms

Bevyn stood, leaving his hat in his seat and stepped back so Lea could precede him.

He was more than a little irritated when the Blackwind stepped close behind Lea,

directly in front of him. Grinding his teeth and digging his nails into his palms, he

glared at the back of the Amazeen’s head, annoyed even more that she was as tall as he.

Unaware the other woman was behind her, Lea took the table to which the steward

ushered her, glancing back with surprise to find the Amazeen between her and Bevyn.

Since the steward was holding the chair out for her, Lea had no choice but to thank him

and sit down. Having Bevyn pull the other woman’s chair out for her made Lea want to

kick him and the tall bitch, who was grinning hatefully at Lea, assuming she would be

sitting beside the Reaper.

When Penthe was seated, Bevyn foiled the Amazeen’s plan and skirted the table,

taking the chair beside his lady’s, beside the window, giving her a gentle smile when

she looked up at him with gratitude in her pretty gray eyes.

They managed to chat amicably about the passing scenery as their meals were

placed before them. No one watching would have suspected all three diners at that

particular table were uneasy, restrained and anxious for the meal to be over. When the

commotion at the front of the car began, it drew their immediate attention almost with

relief until they saw the armed, masked men converging on them with guns drawn.

111

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

Chapter Eight

“This is a holdup. Nobody move and there won’t be no problems,” one of the five

men said.

The train began slowing to a stop. No doubt another robber or two had broken into

the engine room.

A woman cried out, was hushed by her male companion, and another one fainted,

slumping down in her chair. There were twenty people other than the Reaper sitting in

the dining car. One was a young couple with two small children, another young

couple—the wife heavy with child—several older women obviously traveling together

and a few older men with their wives. Save for one other man who had the look of a

professional gambler about him, Bevyn doubted there was another gun among them.

“We want your purses and your money,” the robber decreed. “Valuables too. That

includes rings, watches, jewelry of any kind.” He indicated one of the masked men.

“Jake here is gonna pass by your table with his sack and you’re gonna dump your

goodies inside.”

Bevyn and the women with him were sitting midway in the dining car on the north

side where the tables sat four people each. The table across the aisle from them seated

two—the unconscious woman and her husband who was fanning her with his napkin.

Another of the robbers leaned over to the man who apparently was the leader and

pointed toward Bevyn. For just a split second, there was fear in the leader’s eyes then he

straightened his shoulders.

“Well, whatcha know? Looks like we got us a genuine folk hero onboard, ladies and

gents,” the leader quipped.

Strutting down the aisle, the leader kept his gun leveled at Bevyn’s head though the

barrel shook.

“Don’t you try being a hero now, milord Reaper,” the leader said. “I’d hate to have

to put a slug between the eyes of that pretty lady sitting beside you.”

“What’s a Reaper doing sitting with two women anyways?” another of the masked

men asked.

The one the leader had called Jake was moving from table to table, the clink of

money and jewelry going into his the bag he carried. “Leave him be, Nate,” he warned.

“We don’t need that kind of trouble.”

“Ain’t gonna be no trouble, is there, milord Reaper?” the leader asked.

Bevyn didn’t reply. His gaze was steady on the leader, his hands in plain sight, not

giving the men reason to think he’d go for his weapon, but the look on his face boded ill

for those accosting the passengers.

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Her Reaper’s Arms

“How ‘bout you handing over your piece there, milord Reaper,” the leader

demanded.

Every eye except Lea’s was on Bevyn. No one was looking at the Amazeen so no

one but Lea saw the woman slowly beginning to fade until only a faint wisp of black

mist drifted behind the leader and out the dining car entrance. It took every ounce of

her willpower not to gasp as the woman vanished or to allow her stricken eyes to widen

and give herself away.

Not questioning the leader, Bevyn started to ease his right hand down from the

table.

“Uh-uh,” the leader was quick to say. “Use your left hand.”

The right side of the Reaper’s mouth lifted just a bit as though he might smile but

he reached across him and thumbed up the hammer strap on his six-shooter. He lifted

out his weapon and extended it butt first to the leader, who stuck the black-handled

gun into his belt.

“Now that whip I’ve heard tell so much about,” the leader said.

Bevyn smiled then—as cold a smile as any he’d ever bestowed on another living

thing. It was a slow stretching of his lips while his golden eyes gleamed with malice. “It

won’t do you any good,” he said.

The leader pulled the hammer back on his weapon, the barrel moving slightly so he

was pointing it at Lea. “Don’t make me tell you twice, lawman,” he snarled.

The Reaper shrugged and slid his left hand down to his hip to remove the speal.

Silently he handed it over.

Snatching the laser whip from the Reaper’s hand, the leader held it clutched in his

own, fingering the dragon claw handle. “How you work this?” he asked.

“You don’t,” Bevyn said. “Only a Reaper can. It’s worthless to you.”

Trying to find a way to activate the weapon, the leader finally tossed it aside.

“Where’s your money?” he barked.

“Gotta get up to give it to you,” Bevyn said with a steady grin.

“Don’t let him stand up!” the one named Jake said.

“You better be worrying about me and not the Reaper,” a feminine voice said

behind the robbers.

Lea would forever see what happened next in her dreams for as long as she lived.

She saw the leader’s head snap around at the Amazeen’s challenge, saw Bevyn scoop

up