Chapter 1

Chapter One

J esse pushed up on his elbows as he finally caught the faint puff of smoke from the train they had been tracking. For three weeks, this payload had been just out of reach, going through territory too dangerous for a good strike, either from the law or the number of Natives. Out in the open country, with only small towns peppering the landscape for miles, the passenger train filled with rich, fat cats making their journey through the west would have a chance to empty those heavy pockets.

"Boss!" Jesse called over his shoulder toward the camp behind him. The nine other men he had been traveling with were no kin to Jesse but a means to an end—and damn good at robbing trains. The boss man, whose name Jesse thought might be Jeb, glanced over his way as he sharpened his knife.

"What is it, boy?" The man spit to the side, his black eyes never leaving him.

Boy. Asshole, Jesse thought, snorting to himself. He was a grown man of twenty-two, hardly a fresh-faced pup looking for a thrill.

"Train's heading this way." Jesse nodded in the direction of the smoke, still a glimmer on the horizon. Jeb sniffed, put his knife away, and pushed to his feet. The rest of the men followed suit, grabbing their respective weapons of choice and heading for the horses. Jeb pushed his greasy black hair back before putting his hat back on his scalp, his lined face settling into its normal scowl as he squinted across the sunbaked plains.

"You all know the drill. This is a passenger train, possibly with lawmen aboard. Kid will race ahead and go for the conductor. The rest of you know what to do." Jeb spit again before swinging up into his saddle. Jesse was always in charge of getting the conductors to stop the train and had it down to a science. He was the fastest and a damn good shot, though he knew better than to actually kill the men operating the train controls. The rest of the crew took out the hired guns and swept the cabins for money and jewelry, making quick work before they vanished back into obscurity.

Jeb had a hard rule of no bullshit. If a passenger decided to become too stubborn about releasing their goods, he didn't have a problem shooting them dead and picking their corpse clean. That had gotten around fast, so most of the time, bloodshed wasn't necessary beyond the lawmen guarding the rich folk. Jesse didn't like killing anyone who didn't deserve it and rarely felt like the soft upper class required a heavy hand to obtain their pocket books.

The heat of the sun pressed down on them as they began riding toward the tracks, bandanas covering the lower portion of their faces to keep their identities a mystery. Other than Jeb, who was the most wanted and known as the leader of the Iron Bandits, the rest of the group were simply a mass of faceless outlaws. That's actually what Jesse had wanted. He'd worked his way into the operation for the payout, not the infamy and glory some thirsted for. He didn't join the other men in their nightly revelries. He didn't want them as companions. This was all business .

The train barreled in their direction, smoke billowing out of the top like a never-ending stream of clouds. The gang kicked their horses into a gallop and filed into formation. One of the Bandits gave a shout as they crested the hill toward their target. Jesse looked over just in time to witness one of the men getting knocked off their horse by an arrow to the shoulder. Jesse blinked in surprise, trying to catch up with the action until someone screamed again.

"Natives!" a man roared, ripping his gun from his holster and aiming toward the group of mounted foes riding their way. Natives? There were no fucking natives in this territory! The whiz of an arrow flying by his head caused him to duck and bark out a curse in alarm, hunkering down before steering his horse away from the group.

"Fan out!" Jeb demanded at the head, firing his pistol toward the four men on horseback who seemed to be doing the same. Gunfire began to litter the air, bullets thumping against the dirt and knocking men off their horses. Jesse raced around to flank the attacking party, glancing over toward the train that was still firing down the track. Fuck, he had to get rid of these idiots, or they were going to miss their payout!

Jesse trained his sight on a blond young man on the back of a brown horse firing toward the group and took aim. Before he could get close enough to hit the man, an arrow from nowhere plucked his pistol right out of his grip so viciously it nearly broke his fingers. With a hiss, Jesse followed the direction the arrow had come from to see a giant bird circling back around them like a vulture. The figure didn't make sense at first, the shape being way too big for a bird but oddly familiar. As his brain caught up with his eyes, he realized what he was staring at.

"Skinchanger!" Jesse yelled as the winged man dove back in with his bow aimed. Without a gun, Jesse wasn't going to be winning this fight. He raced back around toward the fray, galloping toward where his gun was knocked from his grip. A sharp bite sliced into his upper arm as a bullet tore through his left sleeve, grazing him with a sting as he hissed. Sliding down to the side of his horse, he held onto the grunting animal with his legs and gripped the saddle tight with his wounded arm as he scooped up the gun stabbed into the earth by an arrow. He ripped the gun loose, righting himself in the leather before aiming up at the Skinchanger.

He fired twice, nailing the man in the shoulder and causing him to jerk in pain before starting to crash toward the earth. The man tucked his giant wings against his body and dove into the tall, dry grass, landing mostly on his feet in a graceful skip before crashing to his hands and knees. Jesse jerked his horse to round on the downed Skinchanger, aiming again to make sure the man wasn't still trying to shoot at him. The thunder of hooves behind him caused him to snap his attention to his right, but not before a bolo whipped around his torso, pinning his arms to his sides and causing him to tip off his saddle. Landing on his wounded arm, he cried out in pain, helpless to catch himself before he crashed into the dirt. His horse snorted and pranced away in alarm as heavy hooves he didn't recognize stepped up into his view.

The sun was stabbing into his eyes as he glared up at his attacker. The silhouette of the massive man atop a brutish steed was looking down at him.

"You alright, Sky?" the big man called out to his fallen comrade. Jesse couldn't see the Skinchanger, but the man must have nodded or at least confirmed he was fine since the mounted foe didn't budge from his stance near Jesse. As the sun was blocked by the man's big shoulders, Jesse blinked the sunspots from his eyes to focus a better look at the man who had him tied and bleeding on the ground.

"Holy shit." Jesse breathed as he drank in the sight of the mighty Centaur standing over him. Chestnut-brown fur covered his powerful fore and hind limbs, but the feathering around the hooves was tipped white. His tail, which was swaying in the wind, was a rich chocolate color that matched the wild mane under the man's off-white hat. Sun-tanned skin connected to the fur where a normal horse's neck would have been, and coarse black hair trailed up from the base to the man's navel surrounded by firm muscle.

This man was a beast in every sense of the word. Not only was part of him a wild stallion with a brilliant coat and massive black hooves, but the human parts of him were big, carnal, and strong. Broad shoulders naked to the sun made the man seem like some Greek god, even without the horse half-stunning Jesse's brain. His chest was strong, lightly dusted with hair, with a gleaming bit of metal hanging around his neck. His arms were massive, and they flexed as he holstered his rifle with practiced ease.

"Your men left you behind," the Centaur was saying, glaring down at Jesse like he was an animal caught in his trap. Jesse blinked, glancing around at the now silent landscape to find the man's words to be true. There was no sign of anyone from the crew, and the train was long gone.

"They scooped up their other wounded but didn't bother coming back 'round for you," the man continued.

"Well, that's likely 'cause there was a Centaur standing over me." Jesse squinted up at him. "Kind of don't blame them."

"No honor among thieves," a man with dirty blond hair chimed in with a snort. This one was human and on a horse.

"No honor but plenty of self-preservation," Jesse corrected.

"How bad is the gunshot?" The Centaur was focusing toward the Skinchanger. Jesse craned his head back to try and catch a glimpse. Luckily, the man was up and moving toward them, holding his shoulder. Once he was close enough to inspect, Jesse was stunned by how beautiful he was. A true Native Skinchanger, his skin was dark and hairless except the midnight-black hair braided in a thick cord down the center of his back. His naked chest, roped in lithe muscles, was dusty from his impact and had blood smeared across it from dressing his shoulder. Two giant raven wings were folded against his back, reflecting shades of emerald green deep within the feathers. The reddish-brown skin of his arms gave way to more flight feathers on his forearms that were accented with wrapped leather bands to keep the feathers down, etched and adorned with beads.

Most jarring were the man's feet, which were not human by any stretch but more like massive eagle talons. They were three-toed with a massive claw on the back sharper than Death's scythe and just as hooked. The bird-like feet were scaled and dark gray, melting into human skin just above the knees. Jesse's breath caught at the sharp yellow eyes that stared at him from the beautiful Native, seeing more than any human eyes could ever imagine.

"The bullet went through. I'll be fine," the Native spoke, his voice low and silky. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to catch more of them."

"You did fine. We caught one, and the train was left untouched. This was a victory, gentlemen." The Centaur's deep voice was like a kick in the chest. He was their prize, the first of the Iron Bandits to have ever been caught. Fame and a good bounty were in their near future, Jesse would imagine, but that was going to be short-lived. He had no interest in being photographed with coins over his eyes after they hung him for robbery and displayed his body for all to witness. Like hell that was going to be how his family would see him last.

No, these men weren't going to get the satisfaction. Jesse was going to find a way to give them the slip and ride off into the sunset soon. He just had to bide his time until opportunity raised its beautiful head. Trying for charm, Jesse gave the Native a smile that was all teeth and sweetness but was still covered by his bandana.

"Sorry about shooting you. Thought you were going to snag me with that bow of yours. "

"Lucky he wasn't aiming to kill you." The other man dismounted off his horse, sandy hair under a tan hat and hazel eyes amused as he kneeled by Jesse and yanked the bandana down. "By the gods, he's just a kid."

Jesse bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping at the guy that he wasn't a kid.

"How you wanna do this, Cal? Sky's gonna need to ride with someone, and we gotta haul dumbass here back to jail," Hazel Eyes said as he straightened, looking over at the Centaur.

"Tie him up proper. I'll take him. Sky, you can ride with Mack." Cal, the Centaur, motioned toward Hazel Eyes, who was apparently Mack. Sky gave a nod, the men following Cal's orders easily. Obviously, the big horse warrior was the leader of whatever outfit this was and didn't seem like the type who was going to be easily charmed. Jesse's specialties included being charming, picking locks, knowing his way around a gun, and riding. This big beast was going to be a challenge, and that was as exciting as it was terrifying.

"So, what are you fellas? Bounty hunters?" Jesse tried to make conversation as Mack began tying him up like a dead deer. "Might be a little tough to pass me off as one of the Iron Bandits since we don't use our names and all."

"I'm sure we'll figure something out." Cal didn't seem fazed by Jesse's solid point, which made his stomach tighten. Bounty hunters could be reasoned with because they understood the language of money.

"I'm just trying to save you some time, gentlemen." Jesse tried to shrug, but being bound made it a little tough.

"You can save us some time by keeping your most helpful comments to yourself, kid." Mack finished tying him up and stood, whistling out into the distance. A younger man trotted up on his horse and dismounted.

"Yes, sir?" The blond kid Jesse had earlier aimed to shoot off his horse didn't so much as look at him as he was summoned by Mack.

"Help me get this idiot onto Cal's back." Mack nodded toward Jesse.

"You let him call you over like a dog?" Jesse looked up at the blond kid with a sneer. "Seems a touch disrespectful."

"Who's the one tied up like an animal?" the kid scoffed, grabbing the ropes with Mack and lifting Jesse up and onto Cal's solid frame. Jesse squirmed a bit to adjust and winced as the kid strapped him into place a little roughly before leaning into his face. "Mind your business, outlaw."

Jesse wasn't able to curb the snort of laughter that bubbled out of him at the ridiculous remark.

"You're not gonna be laughing when they hang you by the neck."

"Cody." Cal's voice caused the boy to shrink back and glance up at the Centaur, ashamed.

"But, Cal, he—"

"Enough. Mind how hard you're pulling on that rope." Cal's tail swished in annoyance at the rope burning into his fur.

Cody flushed and adjusted it before mumbling, "Yes, Sheriff."

Sheriff? Hell. They were self-righteous lawmen, not down-to-earth bounty hunters. This changed the game quite a bit. He wasn't going to be able to bribe his way out, from how strictly they were bowing to this horse-sheriff's orders. No, he was going to have to cut and run as soon as he was able to, but they weren't going to make it easy on him.

Now tied belly down against a Centaur's back, Jesse had a moment to survey the men in the group. Within every chain of command, there was a weak link. The game now was figuring out which link Jesse was going to be able to exploit into gaining his freedom.

Cody was a bright-eyed kid closer to his age; maybe no more than eighteen at best. He held himself in his saddle like he was king of shit mountain, being able to ride alongside the right side of the law. The likelihood of that kid swaying his direction was slim at best. Mack sat easy in his saddle, humming to himself with the breezy attitude of a man without a care in the world. Sky, the Native, was now back in his human form behind him. Without his eagle-tinted eyes and feathers, the man was striking and solemn. His now black eyes swirled with the depth of a wandering soul.

Mack had promise, but Sky was out of the question. Natives don't sway or bend in loyalty for a moment and couldn't be bribed with anything Jesse could offer. The last of the group, a man with black hair and a rifle, who Jesse heard Mack call "Gunner," didn't seem to give a shit one way or the other. He'd have to wait to see if the man came around enough to dissect his attitude and character.

Lastly, was the big Centaur himself. From Jesse's new vantage point, he could admire the impressive back of the beast he was currently astride. His wild dark mane ran from under his light hat, all the way down his human spine to the second set of shoulder blades on his horse half. Just like horse hair, Cal's was thick but silky and moved in the wind just so. Thick muscles covered his naked back, moving with a powerful grace as he walked easily back toward their town where Jesse would be put in a cell. The promise of seeing this man in his human form was actually damn thrilling, since he was a sight to see even as half a horse.

The sheriff seemed bull-headed and steadfast, but Centaurs were known to be wild. Maybe there was a chance Jesse could tap into that inner nature and find comradery. After all, what's more wild and free than a man outside the confines of the law?