X.
The man at the corral drew his gun. Shouts rang out from the direction of house and field.
Enoch swore and hauled his horse around, putting the barn between himself and the men. Drawing his gun, he called, “I’m with the US Federal Marshals, Magical Law Enforcement! I just want to talk.”
The only answer was a bullet striking the earth only a few feet away.
Damn it.
Enoch put his heels to his steed’s sides and raced out from behind the barn. He leveled his pistol and fired back at the man in the corral, even though he knew the shot had almost no chance of hitting anything. He missed, but at least forced the fellow to plaster himself up against a fence post.
The man—Lonnie or Allen—who’d been checking the cattle came into view, face flushed. At the same time, the last man rounded the corner of the house. Both had guns drawn.
Not good odds.
A rufous streak fell from the sky behind the man coming from the direction of the house. At the last instant, Rafael shifted into human form and crashed into his back, bearing him down to the ground. There was a second of shouting and confusion—then Rafael shoved the barrel of his gun against the back of the other man’s head.
“Drop your weapons, or I’ll pull the trigger!” he shouted.
It worked. Both of the other men paled, making Enoch wonder if they were all brothers. They had a similar enough look. Their guns hit the ground without argument.
“All right,” Enoch said. He urged his horse to the corral, looping the reins over the fence. Dismounting, he grabbed a lariat hanging by the gate. “Now come over here, hands out. One wrong move, and my partner there will see what the inside of your friend’s head looks like.”
It was an empty bluff, but neither man knew it. “Don’t hurt him,” one said hastily, holding out his hands.
Enoch made short work of tying them up. “I’m looking for Neil Sabot,” he said. “Is he still here?”
The man’s mouth thinned unhappily. “Yes. But he’s bad hurt. Thanks to you.” He followed up with a stream of insults that Enoch ignored.
“I don’t mean to make him worse. I just want to talk to him.” Enoch made sure they were secure, then turned toward Rafael. “Let him up, nice and—”
A woman stepped out from behind the house, the shotgun in her hands pointed directly at Rafael.
“Look out!” Enoch shouted. He brought his gun up, firing in the direction of the woman even as Rafael rolled out of the way.
She pulled the trigger, but Rafael was gone, and the blast caught the man he’d subdued in the legs. He screamed and flailed, and the woman let out a shriek of her own.
“Lonnie!” She ran to him. “Christ, son, I didn’t mean it!”
“Ma shot Lonnie,” gasped the man who must be Allen. “He’s going to die!”
Enoch strode toward the fallen man. “Put down the shotgun, Mrs. Sabot,” he ordered.
She wavered visibly, and Enoch firmed his grip on his pistol. “I think your family’s suffered enough today, don’t you, ma’am?”
Tears streaming down her face, she set aside the shotgun. Rafael instantly snatched it up.
“Just let me tend to my boy,” she said.
Enoch inspected the shredded flesh of the man’s lower legs. The shotgun pellets had done quite a bit of damage, and Lonnie must be in immense pain, but he didn’t seem in danger of bleeding out in the next few minutes. “I don’t think so. We’ll tie you up, then we’ll see about Lonnie here.”
They herded Mrs. Sabot to the corral and bound her beside her other two sons. After making sure Lonnie was completely disarmed, they tied his hands behind his back and left him where he’d fallen. Enoch cut off Lonnie’s shirt and used it to quickly wrap the worst of the injuries.
“That ought to keep most of the blood in him,” Enoch said to Rafael. “Now for Neil.”
Rafael’s brows lowered slightly. “One of us should stay out here and guard the rest. But I don’t like the thought of you going in alone.”
Enoch drew the pistol he’d holstered while ministering to Lonnie. “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful. You just make sure none of them get up to any trouble.”
Rafael nodded, though he didn’t look happy about it. “Shout if you need me.”
Enoch threw open the door to the small ranch house, gun aimed inside. But the living space was empty, just a worn table with the beginnings of lunch set out. Mrs. Sabot must have been in the middle of her work when she’d heard the gunshots. Enoch paused and listened, alert for any sign yet another family member might be lurking.
The rattle of labored breathing sounded from a half-open door. Enoch went to it and stepped inside.
The bedroom was sparsely decorated, with a large cross on the wall, a chair with a family Bible sitting on it, and a bed. The man on the bed was almost as pale as the counterpane stretched over him. Blue tinged his lips, and an ugly sucking sound accompanied each struggling breath. Bandages swathed one side of his head, as well as the arm and hand on that side.
When Enoch stepped inside, the man opened a pair of watery blue eyes. “You’re the fucker as shot me.”
“Enoch Bright, Deputy US Federal Marshal, Magical Law Enforcement Division.”
“A Hexas Ranger. Just my luck.” Sabot swallowed laboriously. “I heard gunfire, just now. Did you kill my brothers, too? My ma?”
“They’re fine.” The Bone Gang—this man—had slaughtered a marshal and her posse. People Enoch had ridden with on occasion. Good men and women, dead and moldering in the ground thanks to Neil Sabot and his rotten friends. Given that, he found he couldn’t summon up much in the way of regret over Sabot’s impending death. “Where are the rest of your gang, Sabot?”
“Go to hell. I ain’t telling you.” A wracking cough seized Sabot, and agony twisted his face. His mouth opened, as if he wanted to cry out, but couldn’t do anything but cough. When the fit passed and he fell back, blood speckled his lips. “I might be dying, but I won’t tell a lawman nothing.”
“You haven’t heard my offer yet.” Enoch put away his gun. “I’m guessing either you’ve run through all the pain hexes your ma had on hand, or she was too poor to afford any to start with. I’ve got some in my saddle bags. They won’t save your life, but they will make your passing easier.”
Sabot licked his bloody lips. “Go to hell.”
“If you tell me the Bone Gang’s plans, I’ll also forget about the fact your ma and brothers aided and abetted wanted criminals.” Enoch folded his arms over his chest. “Let alone tried to murder an officer of the law. Stay silent and I’ll be back with a posse to arrest all of them. Even if the courts decide to let your ma go, on the theory she was just protecting her sons, she’ll lose the ranch to the lawyer’s fees.” Enoch paused to let the threat sink in. “Is that what you want? Your brothers in jail, your ma with no roof over her head?”
“Fuck you,” Sabot snarled. He might have cursed more, but another bout of coughing came over him. When it finally finished, he fell back against the pillows.
“I want your word,” he said. “If I tell you what Mason’s aiming to do, you walk away and leave my family alone.”
Enoch nodded. “You have my word.”