Blood Heat
Smashwords edition, October 2012
Copyright (c) 2012 by Josh Lanyon
Cover Art by LC Chase
Cover photo licensed through Shutterstock
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced ortransmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, includingphotocopying, recording, or by any information storage andretrieval system, without written permission from Just Joshin'Publications
ISBN: 978-1-937909-21-5
Published in the United States of America
Just Joshin
3053 Rancho Blvd.
Suite 116
Palmdale, CA 93551
www.joshlanyon.com
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance topersons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
BLOOD HEAT
Josh Lanyon
Chapter One
Lightningflickered in the blue-black distance. Somewhere in the sultry,moonless night, a coyote yipped. Still farther away, anotheranswered. There was no movement in the barren, walled yard. Asingle light burned in the second story of the pueblo-stylehouse.
“I don’t like it,” Will muttered, ducking back fromthe gate to land against the thick adobe wall next to hispartner.
Taylor shot him a quick look and laughed, a ghost ofa sound. Taylor hadn’t liked this setup since they’d arrived inDenver to find their prisoner, suspected terrorist Kelila Hedwig,had somehow charmed her way out of police custody and was once moreon the run.
Hedwig was the prime suspect in the death of LosAngeles Field Office Director Henry Torres, which was why DSSSpecial Agents Will Brandt and Taylor MacAllister had been taskedwith escorting her back to the City of Angels. Technically,pursuing and reapprehending her was a job for the USMarshals, not the Bureau of Diplomatic Security. But Taylor, ever acynical and suspicious son of a bitch, had suggested that thecowboys on Nineteenth Street had already had their shot and blownit — in his opinion, a little too conveniently. From the first,there had been an ugly rumor that Hedwig was getting help from theinside.
Will doubted it. He’d seen a couple of photos ofHedwig. She was a frail slip of a girl behind oversize spectacles.True, he was no expert, but he thought it unlikely she’d seducedanyone. He figured Denver PD had underestimated her resourcefulness— and desperation. It happened. It didn’t automatically follow thatthere was a conspiracy afoot.
If she was getting help, it wasn’t very expert helpbecause, after fleeing Colorado, she’d headed straight back to themountains of New Mexico and an ex-boyfriend, Reuben Ramirez.
Ramirez was Hedwig’s high school sweetheart. Notthat either of them had attended high school on a regular basis. Hewas an ex-con currently on probation for drug-related charges.Apparently Hedwig wasn’t too much of a bad-girl superstar to forgetthe little people.
“It’s too quiet,” Will said.
“Nah. Ramirez is a punk. Strictly small-time. It’snot like he can afford to keep a standing army.”
Taylor’s eyes looked silver in the gloom as they metWill’s. His broad but bony shoulder was hard warmth pressingagainst Will’s, and Will felt a disconcerting stirring in hisgroin. It caught him at unexpected times, this distractingawareness of Taylor. They’d been partners and best friends forthree years, but lovers for only four months. They were stilladjusting.
Some parts needed more adjusting than others. Heshifted uncomfortably against the still-warm adobe bricks.
“Are we doing this?” Taylor asked when Will didn’tsay anything else.
Were they? It had seemed like a good idea at thetime, but now as they waited outside the mud walls of Ramirez’shacienda, listening to the crickets, the hot wind skipping acrossthe rocks and sand, and the distant rumble of thunder, Willwondered if they shouldn’t maybe have requested backup from atleast the Ruidoso Downs Police Department.
Taylor’s view, unsurprisingly, had been that locallaw enforcement was likely to get underfoot and complicate things.Taylor had a refreshingly direct approach to such matters. He wasalso, for such a deceptively graceful-looking guy, a little on theforceful side.
The thought brought a faint, self-conscious smile toWill’s face.
It was too dark to read each other’s expressions,but Taylor must have sensed the smile, because he whispered,“What?”
“Nothing. Are you sure you don’t want to bring insome support on this?”
“I don’t like the fact that it took the feebs nearlya year to track her down, and then twenty-one hours after she’sfinally incarcerated, she manages to slip through the cracksagain.”
That bothered Will as well. “All right. We’ll do itthe old-fashioned way.”
“Rape and pillage?”
“And people say you’re the sensitive one.”
Taylor’s grin was a glimmer of white in thedarkness. He turned from Will, slapping his hands against the dustybrick. “Give me a boost.”
No. Let me go first.
Will caught the words back in time. TechnicallyTaylor was the senior member of the team. Besides, lighter andfaster than Will, Taylor had always taken point on this kind of op.But four — no, nearly five — months ago on a routine investigation,Taylor had been shot in the chest and nearly died. He’d recoveredand was back to full field agent status, but Will was never goingto be able to erase the memory of Taylor slumped on his side,scarlet spreading across his chest as his life’s blood pumpedout…
He was smart enough to keep that worry to himself,though. He linked his hands together. Taylor planted his bootsquarely in the stirrup and vaulted lightly up, balancing brieflyon the wall before dropping down.
Diplomacy in action. Like the slogansaid.
Will heard the dull impact of his landing. A fewseconds later, the wooden entrance gate was swinging creakilyopen.
Will slipped through the gap, the soles of his bootswhispering on sand.
In the kennels behind the house, dogs were goingcrazy. Not guard dogs, fortunately. Ramirez fancied himself as somekind of hot-shit breeder. Over the past thirty-six hours, Will hadobserved that no matter how much noise the dogs made, no one fromthe house came out to investigate. Being a dog lover, he foundhimself irked by that on a number of levels — though it was a plusfor their immediate purposes.
A minus was the long empty stretch of unlandscapedyard around the house. There was nowhere to hide once they were outof the deep shadow of the surrounding walls. No way to reach thehouse without running across several very exposed lengths of dirtand rock.
On the bright side — or,
