#Read An #Excerpt From The Chosen By Theresa Meyers
“So how are you planning on getting me out of here? They’ve got a price on my head. And you ain’t a judge and now you’re stuck here in the pokey same as me.”
Remington Jackson’s eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and determination. “You didn’t think I’d walk in here without an alternative exit plan, did you?” he pulled the right side of his jacket back to reveal not just a holstered revolver and gun belt filled with silvery bullets, but also a couple of glass vials of clear liquid topped with cork stoppers.
China snorted. “It’s gonna take a lot more than that little bit of water if you want to get through those adobe walls.”
He gave her an arch look. “It would, if it were water.” He picked up one vial, and glanced at her. “But considering it’s nitro glycerin, I’m assuming it’ll be much more effective. Toss that mattress up on its side and hunker down behind it for cover.” She didn’t question, just did as he said.
Remington crouched down behind the mattress with her in the corner of the cell, their backs to the bars as he threw the glass vial as hard as he could at the outer adobe wall, then ducked.
The explosion rocked the jail, sending down a shower of dust and chunks of brick. Miss McGee coughed, then frowned. “Blowing up the jail? That’s your solution?”
He shrugged. He really didn’t care what she thought of his methods. “It works.” His life wasn’t a black or white proposition. It was more like a smorgasbord. He took what he needed, when he needed it, to get the job done. Being a Hunter, even part time, meant he didn’t always have the luxury of doing things by the book.
Judging by the narrow-eyed look and pinched mouth on Miss McGee’s pretty face, he’d been right to bring the iron bracelet along as a precaution. Colt said she could change into many things, including a mountain lion, and he had no plans of getting shredded to pieces on the way back to Tombstone.
Remington didn’t waste any time. He hustled Miss McGee out of the jail as quickly as possible, helping her cross the rubble, aware that the sheriff and half the town would likely be on their heels at any moment.
They dashed around the outer edge of the jail, and waited for everyone to disappear inside. He grabbed hold of her hand. “Let’s go.”
He rushed to his horse, who was spooked by the explosion, and pulled the reigns from the hitching post.
China’s mouth dropped open. “How are we gonna get out of here quick on that? Don’t you have a mechanical horse like Colt?”
“No. Hate the damn thing. Now are you coming or not?”
China snapped her mouth closed and nodded. Remington mounted in one smooth swift motion, then hauled the Darkin up to sit in front of him. Well, really, given the confines of the saddle she sat more in his lap than in front of him. She was far softer than he’d anticipated. Somehow Miss McGee’s prickly exterior didn’t change how very feminine she felt. “Hold on to the pommel.” She gripped it hard and he grasped the reins in each hand.
“Is this really necessary?” she growled as he kicked the horse into motion.
“Until I have clear access to Diego Mendoza’s information, absolutely.” That was a half truth. He could have just taken whatever she’d gotten from the safety deposit box and left her there, but his gut had told him that wasn’t the safest path. And if there was one thing Remington did, it was always listen to his gut. Besides everything Colt had him meticulously research indicated a Darkin was needed to access the hiding place of the missing pieces of the Book. No, he didn’t intend on letting Miss McGee out of his sights any time soon.
He wheeled the horse around and sped up the hill, making quick tracks out of Bisbee before anyone figured out what had happened and where they’d gone. He didn’t stop or slow until Bisbee was out of sight over the rim of the hills.
“I can just give you the page. That’s all there was. No map. Not a decent one anyway. Just a bunch of squiggly lines. No place names. No directions.” With her right hand she reached beneath the edge of her leather jacket and pulled a folded page of yellowed paper from the breast pocket of her faded pale blue chambray shirt. “Here. Take it. Then you can just drop me off at the next town. Deal?”
Remington smiled. She was just as anxious to get away from him as she was to get back at Colt. He could tell by the nervous way she fidgeted. “No deal. How do I know that paper will lead me anywhere?”
She shrugged, the movement causing her back and the curve of her shoulders to rub up against his chest. Remington grit his teeth. He was a Hunter, not a monk, after all. And despite the taint of being Darkin, she was a beautiful creature.
“You don’t. But I don’t have anything else, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, I think you have a bit more than that. You were working with Colt to help find the lost piece of the Book Diego knew about, weren’t you?”
She heaved a sigh. “I don’t know anything.”
“That’s not what Colt said.”
A fine tremor worked its way through her body. Remington wasn’t sure if it was anger or desire. There was an exceedingly fine dividing line between hate and love and it didn’t take a whole hell of a lot to push some folks from one to the other.
“Colt knows everything I do.”
“Yes, but he’s bent on finding Cadel’s piece of the Book my father hid. That means I’m collecting you so you can help him find the piece Diego is rumored to have uncovered.”
She twisted in his lap. The leather stretched across her finely curved ass was not nearly enough of a barrier between them. Remington grunted. China gazed up at him. “You’re trying to put the Book of Legend back together, aren’t you?”
They started down the rugged hills surrounding Bisbee and Remington weighed the option of telling her the truth vs. telling her only what he wanted her to know. His gut told him to trust her when every bit of Hunter training told him he was a fool to do so.
Something changed in her eyes. A flash of silver, like lightning streaking across a stormy, cloud-covered sky. It was a breath-taking sight. “I’ll help you on one condition.”
Remington was tempted to tell her she wasn’t exactly in a position to bargain, but his curiosity got the better of him. In the courts sometimes what people told you when trying bargain, revealed far more about their intentions than they realized. “And what’s that?”
“If you do find all the pieces, I want to be there when you put it together.”
Remington frowned. “Why?”
“’Cause if what the Darkin legends say is true, it’s gonna be one hell of a show.”
In Remington’s opinion deals were made to be remade. He didn’t see the harm in agreeing to it if it could get the information Colt needed out of her. “Sounds like you have a personal stake in the matter. Is that true, Miss McGee?”
She shifted uneasily. “You’ve got your secrets, Hunter. I’ve got mine. Do we have a deal, or don’t we?
The Chosen: a prophecy older than dirt and more dangerous than death. Even as they perfected steam-powered gadgetry and rounded up varmints from Hell, the Jackson brothers didn’t believe in it. But when the chips are down, three brothers named for weapons aren’t going out without a fight…
A Walk On The Wild Side
Attorney by day, demon-hunter by night, Remington Jackson is used to being on the sunny side of the law, even in the Wild West. But it’s showdown time, and Remy and his brothers are getting desperate. They don’t have the relic they need to slam the door shut on evil—so Remy is going to have to find and steal part of it.
Enter China McGee, shapeshifter, thief, beauty, and current prisoner. When Remy offers her freedom in exchange for a little light-fingered help, she’s pretty sure she’s going to end the association with a good old-fashioned seductive double cross. But there’s something about fighting through a jungle full of Mayan ruins that makes you want to settle down together. China could change. Remy might be special. But none of that matters if the devil takes them all…
About The Author:
The progeny of a slightly mad (NASA) scientist and a tea-drinking bibliophile who turned the family dining room into a library, Theresa Meyers learned early the value of a questioning mind, books and a good china teapot.
A former journalist and public relations officer, she found far more enjoyment using her writing skills to pen paranormal novels in the turret office of her Victorian home.
She’s spent nearly a quarter of a century with the boy who took her to the Prom, drinks tea with milk and sugar, is an adamant fan of the television show Supernatural, and has an indecent love of hats.
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