Wyatt

The Flying K

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Pink painted the eastern sky, a promise of dawn’s arrival, and the family still argued around him. Ignoring them, he focused on the colors as the black surrendered to deep blue then to purple, and finally red and pink. Cooler temperatures kept the majority of those gathered in Haven in heavy coats.

Despite her pregnancy, Scarlett remained in the thick of the debate.

“Are you really going to say nothing?” Buck’s voice cut across the squabbling, and Wyatt spared the younger man a look. Jimmy’s shaman bride hadn’t set a word, though she remained with all of them. Scarlett raised her hand toward the fire they’d lit and it bloomed a little hotter then flames dropped a fraction so fresh wood could be loaded.

Buck focused on him and, one by one, their siblings turned to study him as well. He’d brought Quinn with him. Like Blue, she said nothing and seemed to be almost amused by the contretemps unfolding around them.

“What do you need to hear, Buck?” At the end of the day, his siblings wouldn’t be satisfied until their questions had all been answered. Wyatt had neither the time nor the patience to ease the journey for them. It would be better if they stayed out of it altogether. They’d refused the easy path, however.

“The truth.” The younger shaman folded his arms. Animosity flickered in his dark eyes. Not even Delilah holding onto his arm seemed to soothe his unusual display of temper.

“Patience serves a full meal while demands may only earn crumbs.” Blue spoke in Cheyenne, the soft lyrical nature of the words a reminder to simpler times. Only a handful present understood her, but all that mattered was Buck had.

“My father guarded his secret. He knows the man in the east—MacPherson.” Like Blue, Buck spoke in the native language of his father. Wyatt’s native language, though like many things, it too had changed in the years since his birth.

“The Shadow Man.” Blue sounded the name out, mixing her languages and snagged the attention of the gathered. “He is a First One, or was…and he is linked to the two of you.” She indicated Kid and Jason, confirming Wyatt’s long suspicion of Adam’s involvement in the Fever coming to Dorado not once, but twice. How else did two brothers get the Fever and not the other two?

Another burst of argument broke out, and Wyatt raised his hand as he stood. Silence blanketed them. “Enough. This squabble gets us nowhere and you are all weary. Go to bed. Rest.” Buck opened his mouth as though to argue and Wyatt glared at him. “Not now, Buck. Even Quanto knew when rest, desperately needed, should supersede the argument.”

In ones and twos, they rose but they didn’t obey. In fact, Sam took a step toward him. “It’s only taken this long because you’re not answering any questions, key among them why you brought her with you and how did the two of you cross the barrier?”

“It’s not my first time on the ranch,” Wyatt answered, dismissing the question.

“Fevered can’t cross,” Cody said quietly. “Not without suffering and a buzzing like you wouldn’t believe.” His wolf brother would know, as he’d had to transform into his wolf form to cross it.

“We’re not Fevered,” Quinn answered, her bluntness a hammer against the others in the room, silencing their arguments. She could go back to being silent now. Her earlier declaration of her origins being related to his left him with his own set of questions. Questions dealing with his family left on hold. So far, the woman hadn’t moved from his side. It wasn’t trust or alliance keeping her there—no, of that he was certain. She was curious about all of them.

“No, they are the Cursed.” The definitive answer from Blue eddied into the dumbstruck silence Quinn created.

It was Scarlett who straightened, hands against her lower back as if she needed to stretch. “How can you not be Fevered? You…you’re like us.” The element of hurt wasn’t lost on him and Wyatt sighed.

“Sit down, Scarlett. You need to rest. Sam, get your wife something to eat and drink.” Wyatt needn’t have bothered with the second suggestion. Olivia and Evelyn returned to the chaos carrying trays. Jason usurped it from his wife immediately as did Kid. Neither brother looked in his direction. Olivia, on the other hand, hesitated and her dark eyes focused on Quinn.

The discussions around the room resumed as the adults shuffled to make space. Jo sat in a chair with Micah braced next to it. The man hadn’t left his wife’s side since she insisted on joining the chaos. The families Wyatt’s younger siblings had formed—or tribe, as Jimmy called it earlier—seemed to be bursting at the seams. Olivia made her way through the room, carefully sidestepping the various couples.

Jason’s head snapped in their direction, his gaze tracking his wife as Olivia approached Quinn. Wyatt didn’t react, but he shifted his weight. As Olivia drew near, Quinn stiffened, her attention shifting to the delicate looking woman facing her. There was an air of fragility around Olivia, one that likely kept her husband deeply protective. The clinking of dishes quieted as if everyone realized the imminent danger of Olivia getting too close

“I know you,” Olivia said after a moment. The silence in the room stretched unbearably. Jason set his tray down on the table and narrowed the distance to be at his wife’s side.

“Boston,” Quinn answered without hesitation. Her posture didn’t change, but the tension in her shoulders seemed to ease.

“How do I recognize you? I was blind when I was in Boston.” The reminder of the strange transformation she’d undergone, thanks to her connection to Jason, drew Wyatt’s attention.

“You were never blind,” Quinn said, her husky voice gentling. The intonation rippled over him, and Wyatt slid a glance sideways in time to catch the almost silent sigh the transporter released. “You might not have been able to see, but you were more than capable of reading the people around you. It’s a rare gift, likely a throwback to one of your ancestors, activated by your lack of visual sight.”

Jason set his hands on his wife’s shoulders. “Yet you remember her?”

“I remember everything.” Quinn didn’t switch her attention to Jason. Of the pairing, the telepath was far more dangerous than his delicate wife. Yet, Quinn paid no real attention to him.

Likely because she’d already dropped the man twice. He was no threat.

Interesting. So was Olivia.

“I can’t place why I know you from Boston.” The young Mrs. Kane leaned against her husband, a tight line of concern forming between her eyes. “I spent most of my time at the school.”

“Except during walkabouts when you were training your senses.” Quinn folded her arms and adjusted her stance. It was more relaxed, less hostile—dare Wyatt believe protective? “You spent several afternoons over the course of one Autumn walking the waterfront, and the farmer’s market, and the bakeries…”

“Beecher’s cream cake,” Olivia all but exhaled the words and laughed while she said it. “You told me to try the cream cake and purchased a slice even when I tried to decline.”

“Yes.”

The exchange struck Wyatt as odd. How long ago had Quinn been in Boston? Had she been there to protect the McKennas? Why send them west? Had MacPherson been there? Not a question he wanted to ask in front of Jason Kane. The telepath had a cold manner, but a deadly temper. Wyatt respected the desire to protect.

“Thank you. You followed me. I heard you.” Olivia continued, and the air around them grew chillier. “Why?”

“Does it really matter?” Quinn’s question threw down a challenge.

“Yes, it does.” Unsurprisingly, Jason stepped into the conversation. “You worked for MacPherson. You were one of his bounty hunters. Why were you following Olivia?”

“One, I never worked for Adam MacPherson. Two, I’m not a bounty hunter. And three, I don’t owe you anything, boy. You’re powerful but you can be shut down.” The moment Quinn issued her challenge, tension coiled through the room.

“Please don’t,” Olivia said before Wyatt could intervene. Dealing with Quinn would be his task, and he didn’t need his sibling’s kneejerk protectiveness to be aroused. “Whatever you did to Jason in town, I couldn’t see again.”

Violence eddied through the room, and Kid paled a shade.

“Truly?” Quinn asked, her voice softening an octave.

Wyatt’s breath frosted and he transferred his attention from Quinn to Jason Kane. His brothers converged on him as well, Kid arriving first. Danger brewed in the gathering storm in their midst. And it would help no…

“I’m sorry it affected you.” Sincerity echoed in Quinn’s words. “I have no quarrel with your husband or any of the Fevered here. They did not want to take no for an answer. Understand that attacking me would be a mistake.” The last sentence she directed at Jason. “I have no wish to harm your wife.”

The words fell like heavy stones into the quiet, rippling out and striking everyone present. Not for the first time in his existence did Wyatt recognize a profound change in the path he walked. They came, now and then, moments which altered reality as he’d come to accept it.

Quanto had been one of those moments.

All at once, the tension in the room bled out and Jed Kane cleared his throat. The patriarch was a gruff, cantankerous man who had weathered loss, ridden the tempestuous tides of independence, annexation and taming a land which did not wish to be tamed. “Come sit with me, Olivia,” he said, holding out his hand. “Boys, take a seat. Everyone needs to eat and, if we’re going to eat in here, you’ll have manners. You know Miss Molly’s rules.”

The corner of Quinn’s mouth kicked a bit higher, but she didn’t move from her position.

Then the elder Kane pinned a look on him and Quinn both. “You two are guests. Act like it and sit.”

It wasn’t an invitation, but an order. Quinn slanted a look at him and Wyatt shrugged. The sooner they got this over and done with, the faster he could take Quinn from the ranch and learn what it was she was up to.

Hat in his hand, he motioned Quinn toward the empty chair nearest the fireplace. Her soft snort didn’t carry, but he appreciated the sentiment. Neither of them had time or patience of polite pleasantries, but like him, she saw the sense in just getting it over and done. He gave her two steps toward the chair before he followed. Once she sat, he settled on the stone before the fire.

Across the room, Scarlett cast him a small smile then turned her attention to the food. No one said anything as they all found a place to sit. The chairs and sofas were reserved to the women, with the men taking a knee near them or like Wyatt sitting on something else.

“Better,” Jed said once they were all seated. “Now, one step at a time. Mr. Morning Star,” he turned his attention on Wyatt. “You will begin.”

The old man thought he could give him orders. We are all related to and respect everything in life… It had been years since his father’s words echoed so clearly in his ears. Wyatt sighed. The spirits didn’t speak to him, hadn’t in years, so if he could hear his father now, then he should listen.

“Very well,” he conceded, clasping his hands together. “I am traveling north. Adam MacPherson must die.”

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QUINN

The Flying K

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The food they passed around included warm biscuits, which suggested someone was in the kitchen cooking. The dough was hot and fresh, while the meat inside was savory. Quinn had been living on hard tack and whatever she could catch for herself. Home cooked meals were not something she came by often.

“If you’re going after MacPherson,” a young man announced from the entryway. “Count me in.”

“Shane,” the very pregnant Jo Kane chided. “You should be resting. This isn’t a conversation for children.”

“That’s fine, ma’am. But I haven’t been a child in a long time.” The one called Shane disputed her order with perfect politeness. “What that man did…he sent those people after you, and they hurt all of us.”

Those people? Quinn pretended to keep her focus on the food, but she divided her attention between the young man and the pregnant woman. Sadness tightened Jo’s expression and she shifted her posture in the chair. She looked exceptionally uncomfortable, considering how far along she was.

“Shane,” Jimmy merely said his name, silencing any potential arguments. “Sit down and listen. You have earned the right to be here but not the right to be rude.”

“My apologies, Miss Jo. I shouldn’t have spoken out of turn.”

“It’s fine,” she said, accepting his apology gracefully. “I just don’t think any of us are really ready for what this fight will entail.” Strangely enough, she looked to Wyatt. “No matter what you say, Mr. Morning Star, about taking the fight to him. The fight has already found us—all of us. If you go for him, there is no guarantee he and his won’t come here again.”

“Except,” Wyatt accepted the challenge without any sign of irritation. “The barrier on the ranch protects all of you from any powers he can send against you. Stay here and you are protected.”

“The ranch was protected before,” Jo retorted, unmollified. “It did not stop the spread of the fever.”

“Darling…” Micah rested a hand on her arm.

“No, I will not calm down. You all seem to think if we throw enough power it at it, we can make everyone safer. Violence begets violence.” Her accent sharpened on the syllables. “We lost so many already. Do we dare risk losing more to chase a phantom?”

“He isn’t a phantom,” Delilah, the siren interjected into the conversation. The lyrical nature of her voice was unmistakable, though no power prickled over Quinn. “Jo, I’m terrified, too. But I know Father…” Her mouth twisted into a grimace. “I know MacPherson. Whether we go or we stay, he will come. Here we must defend all of the children. At least there it will only be us.”

Wyatt’s hand curled into a fist. He’d caught the pronoun at the end of that statement. The siren planned to join the fight. Had this many Fevered ever stood against Adam before?

“I know that,” Jo said, a weepy sound thickening her voice. “What if we simply ignore him?”

“Ignoring MacPherson will not make him go away.” Wyatt spoke before anyone else could offer their opinion. “None of you will be going, regardless of what you think. He is far more dangerous than any of you realize. He made numerous attempts on Quanto over the years, and only Quanto’s continued existence kept him away.”

Those words held an element of truth, but not all of the truth.

“We don’t go into battle alone,” Cody, the wolf shifter, interrupted. “What makes you think we’ll let you go by yourself?” Murmurs of agreement echoed Cody’s sentiment.

“Because he won’t give you boys a chance.” The elder Kane said, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “He didn’t want to come here in the first place. If you’d left him alone, Buck, he would already be on his way. You kids all have a right to your feelings, and I’m sure you each have words you want to have with him, none of which will do us any good. Now, please, ladies,” Jed continued sweeping his gaze from Jo to Delilah then to Scarlett. The little firestarter had flames practically dancing in her eyes, yet she sat composed and controlled. “Reserve those comments for later. Mr. Morning Star, continue. We need information on MacPherson’s goals and his weaknesses.”

Use to being obeyed, Jed Kane silenced all other objections with a sweeping glance over the gathered. When they all swallowed their comments and silence resumed once more, Jed looked at Wyatt. “Begin.”

Tension rippled over the man seated next to her. The lift to his chin, and the chill to his eyes, didn’t suggest a willingness to share. “His weakness is his pride, and his strength—his strengths are in those he sways to his side through force or persuasion.” A faint hitch marred his tone when he said the word force. “His goals are control and absolute eradication of anything which might prevent him from achieving the goal.”

When he left it there, Quinn turned the possibilities over in the back of her mind.

“If that’s his goal, why hadn’t we heard of him before the last few years?” Scarlett again. The woman seemed to be waging a losing battle against her temper.

“We have, Scar.” Jimmy rose from his crouch, and stretched. “How many years did we hole up on the mountain? How many times did Wyatt deal with potential invaders?”

“Plenty,” Cody agreed with him. “Wyatt and Quanto kept us out of those battles. We were always to stay back and protect her.”

“You stayed because it protected you. We told you to protect Scarlett because it made you stay.” Wyatt said before Scarlett’s temper could kindle further. The family dynamic fascinated her. Most Fevered were natural loners, avoiding others of their kind, particularly because their gifts could be so volatile. These wild beings were all engaged in active relationships, some dating back decades, and each bore the various nuanced layers in the play of personalities before her.

Sam, the eldest son, remained stoic throughout the disagreement. “Then from what you’re saying, it doesn’t matter whether we stay or go. He and his will come for the ranch regardless.”

“Yes,” Wyatt didn’t mince his words. “On the ranch, however, you are safe. When he falls, only some who follow him will need to be eliminated.”

Some. Quinn shook her head. There was more to learn in what Wyatt did not say than what kernels of information he chose to share. And the fact he continues to sit here, indulging them all when he could walk away and none could stop him.

Except for perhaps the two shamans and herself.

Perhaps.

“You’re not alone in this, Wyatt. You’ve protected your family for years,” Sam continued, his tone laconic but his gaze stern. “This is my family, too. Our family. You don’t get to make unilateral decisions. We do this together, we make a plan, and if this MacPherson has an army…”

“Then we will be our own army.” Cody straightened. “We’ve got more than numbers on our side. We’re a pack and we work well together.”

Quinn couldn’t quite suppress the smile aching to escape. An army needed one…

“And who will lead that army?” Wyatt unfolded as he stood. “You? You don’t know the enemy. You may be talented with protecting your town and providing for your wife, but you have never faced anything like MacPherson.”

“I have,” Jason cut into the conversation before his brother could answer. “I’ve faced many of the things he’s thrown at us.”

“You were also their prisoner.” With a slice of his hand through the air, Wyatt silenced them all. “This battle is not some posse to fend off, or a single hunter bent on destruction, or a group of madmen pursuing a dark agenda. None of you have faced an organized army of Fevered individuals, and the one time you faced even a small percent of what he can bring to bear, you lost your town and some of yours lost their lives—or nearly lost them.”

“Then teach us.” The empath spoke, his tone calm without an ounce of soothing to eddy through the rough emotional waters rising within the room. “But get it through your skull, big man. You aren’t alone. You’ve got all of us…and apparently whatever the hell she is.”

The deflection worked. The weight of the room’s regard shifted from Wyatt to her. Quinn didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she merely waited a beat. Wyatt did not want them questioning her.

“She is a prisoner, and it has yet to be determined whether she is an ally.” There it was, the man refusing to give an inch.

“Perhaps it is better to take a step back from the water and look at the trees along the edge,” the female shaman offered.

“Agreed,” Micah said with a sigh, then he rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. “We’re getting nowhere. Wyatt, if we ask you for your word to not leave until we all have a plan that we can agree on, would you give it?”

“We should get the McKennas back, too.” Noah had said very little throughout the whole debate. “If the ranch is the safest place for all of us, and MacPherson is hunting them as well, then they should be here.”

“They’re already on their way,” Jason said, a note of smugness in his tone. “They crossed the border a half hour ago.”

Damn it. Quinn didn’t let her reaction show. If the McKennas returned, then they’d made the decision as a family. She’d have to honor it.

“Then let’s get these ladies upstairs so they can retire. Jimmy, you and your bride are welcome here at the house or you can take one of the cabins. We have several unoccupied at the moment.” Jed took charge and began sorting out the sleeping arrangements. Not waiting for the old man to get to them, Wyatt took Quinn’s arm and pulled her to her feet. His grip bit into her biceps, but he didn’t inflict harm.

With a jerk of his head, he indicated they should go—so she transported them both outside.

Surprise filtered through his expression when the night sky spread out above them. She’d only taken them as far as a copse of trees she’d seen on the ride to the house.

“I take it you want to talk…”

He held up a finger, then jammed his hat on his head and whistled. A tall black horse trotted out of the darkness toward them. Without another word, Wyatt swung onto the glorious creature’s back before extending his hand to her. Quinn raised her brows. The beautiful animal was not like any other horse she’d ever seen. It had…power?

“What did you do?”

“Far too much. Now come.” Wyatt snapped his fingers once, and she shook her head slowly. Wyatt Morning Star was far more than she’d expected.

“Where?”

“Do you really care?” The question was fair because, no, she didn’t. Wherever he decided to take her, she could leave anytime she chose.

If she didn’t go, she wouldn’t get any answers.

Accepting his outstretched hand, she went to swing herself up behind him. She needn’t have bothered. His power coalesced around her and lifted her. Once she was seated behind him, he clicked his tongue once at the horse. The animal’s power seemed to shimmer around them and then they were in motion. The stallion had the smoothest gait she’d ever experienced.

Behind them, a voice called out, “Dammit, Wyatt!”

The man in front of her didn’t respond, but the faintest sound of a chuckle escaped him. No mistaking his fondness for those left behind.

Strange. Her task had been so much easier when he remained in the shadows. The First Ones were chaos personified. How the hell had he learned to care for real?