Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

E ach day passing was another wave of both relief from the silence and slowly mounting anticipation of what was to come. Jesse was able to spend more time with Coop and Marybell than he had in a long time and put in some work getting Stallion Ridge prepared for the looming threats. Cal had Sky and Cody out patrolling, and Mack was prepping buildings for possible stray fire if it came to a showdown. According to what Sky had reported from his "friends in the wind," the bandits were about two days south of the town. After that news, efforts had been hastened, and the town was on alert.

Hell, even Scarlet and Faye had been helping where they could. The townsfolk didn't seem to run for the hills like Jesse assumed they would when Cal gave them the news. There had been questions and concerns, but mostly the handful of faces that made up the small town wanted to know how they could help.

It was damn touching.

Gunner had been charged with stocking the weapons cache with ammo and cleaning the firearms at hand. Not wanting to feel like a freeloader, Jesse sat in the sheriff's office scrubbing down rifles and making sure everything worked right. Jack was still around, though he didn't make himself available. Cal had said the man would stick around and help, but Jesse was convinced he was just counting down the days until he could haul Jesse off by the neck.

Beyond the heavy rock of concern sitting in Jesse's gut, his heart was dancing around his chest like a trapped firefly. Each time he got to touch Cal, it flickered to life and flashed a warm glow through his chest. They had fallen into a routine fairly quickly, each morning eating breakfast together before going to town to work on what was needed. Lunch was shared. As was supper. The Centaur had been extremely pleased to learn that the fugitive he was sharing quarters with could cook a damn good meal. Jesse had been surprised at how much food it took to fill a Centaur and extremely pleased with said beast's stamina afterwards.

Cal rested a hip against his desk, scanning over the wards and paper scroll spells with his brows forcing a crease in his forehead. He looked brooding and serious when he was focused, and Jesse let his mind drift back to seeing that same expression as he drove Jesse closer to coming all over the sheets.

"You think you're gonna have a shootout, Uncle Jesse?" Marybell's voice was pitched in delight at the prospect of a bloody gunfight.

"My mama said Marshal Jack's officers will arrest them before they make it here." The slightly know-it-all voice of his niece's new partner in crime, Pearl, sang from next to her. "They're gonna get the noose."

"Ooo! Can we go see?" His disturbed niece pleaded.

"If you eat your greens," Jesse said absently as he scrubbed a revolver.

"Please don't bribe my daughter with seeing a public hanging to persuade her to eat properly, Jesse," Cooper groaned.

"But Daaaddy…"

"You know I got a graveyard behind my house?" Pearl grinned as she spoke, and all heads snapped to her at the word "graveyard."

"Can we see—"

A chorus of "no," "hell no," and "stay away from that damn graveyard" bellowed from Gunner, Jesse, and Cal respectively, causing wide eyes from the children.

"Or we could go play at the river I guess…" Pearl lamented.

Compromising, and with Cooper's instructions to be careful, the girls bolted out to most likely play in the mud. Mack nearly got trampled by them as he leaned inside, dodging the stampede of giggles by mere inches.

"Cal." Mack tossed his head back in the direction he came from. "I need your help. It's Seb."

Cal let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. Apparently, this was a routine issue.

"He's mad, Cal. Something is wrong." That got Cal's attention.

"Mad? Seb?" His dark brows somehow creased more. Mack gave a confused shrug and gestured for Cal to follow him out, which the sheriff did quickly.

"Who's Seb?" Jesse glanced at Gunner, who didn't glance up during the back and forth.

"Town drunk."

"Just a drunk…?" Jesse wasn't convinced.

As usual, Gunner remained annoyingly unbothered and gave a lazy shrug. When it was obvious the man wasn't going to give any more detail, Jesse glanced at his brother and sighed. Cooper shook his head, poking through a desk to find something to help clean with when his eyes narrowed on something.

"What's this…?" It started as a chuckle until the page was fully revealed from the drawer. Gripping the top and bottom corners of the large flyer, Cooper's smile slowly turned into a look of shocked concern.

"What is this?" His tone had shifted into a demanding bark as he pointed at Jesse's criminal flyer Gunner had drawn what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Jesse froze, eyes wide and mouth going desert dry. Even Gunner had stopped what he was doing and was staring at the flyer.

"Uh…" Jesse said unhelpfully. What the hell was he supposed to say? That it was his old death declaration before they fooled Cooper into thinking he was a deputy?

"Jesse!" Cooper shook the paper, face growing red with anger and fear.

Jesse moved his mouth, trying to think of something to say. He hated lying to his brother. Hated deceiving him. But he would hate the truth more.

"I drew it." Gunner's voice punched through the pause.

Cooper whirled on him.

"You?"

"Yep."

"Why? What is this, Gunner?"

Another casual shrug. "A joke."

"A joke. You drew my brother's face on a flyer naming him as an Iron Bandit, as a joke ?"

"Didn't say it was a particularly funny joke."

Jesse had to suppress a snort at that.

"Gunner," Cooper warned.

Gunner met his eyes quietly, something darkening his gaze. Cooper seemed to withdraw from the onslaught and tossed the paper down, running his hands down his shirt to smooth it.

"Your sense of humor is dark," Cooper mumbled, going back to trying to find what he was looking for. Jesse glanced between them as Gunner watched Cooper for another beat before aiming his gaze back down at his work.

Whoa. What the hell was that?

Cal had never seen Seb anything but jovially drunk or drowning in sorrow. He didn't think the man had it in him to be angry, much less mean, but the sight in the saloon was just that. Seb was roaring at Gibson, the bald, burley saloon owner who let Seb drown his woe nightly at the bar. He even let the man slide on tabs and let him sleep it off in the spare room most times.

Gibson's mustache only accented his deep scowl, his bushy brows pushed down toward his usually kind eyes. Two tree trunk arms were crossed over his mighty chest, his bald head showing one angry vein.

"What's going on?" Cal stepped up to Seb's side, trying to pull his attention from Gibson.

"Take it back!" Seb slammed his palms down on the bar, spit flying as he screamed. "Take back what you said!"

"For the last time, Seb, I ain't said nothing to you! Sheriff, he just started screaming at me for no good reason." The poor bartender looked the right mix of furious and concerned for his friend.

"Liar! You know what you said!"

"Seb, tell me what he said." Cal kept his voice neutral, trying to be the calm voice in the situation.

"Cal, I—" Gibson paused as Cal lifted his hand for him to wait, never taking his eyes off Seb. Heavy breaths sawed from Seb, his usually light eyes viciously dark and glaring at his friend on the other side of the bar.

"Seb." Cal tried again. "Look at me."

After a long, unwavering moment, Seb finally turned his gaze to Cal. Pain and anger rimmed his eyes, his body tense and fists balled tight. Cal didn't let it faze him, keeping his face relaxed and his stance calm.

"He said… he… said…" A wince almost broke the man's eye contact as he tried desperately to get the words out, like his memory was stuck on something inside of his mind .

"That's alright. Take your time." Cal glanced at Gibson. "Grab us some waters, would you?"

Gibson took the chance to slip away, giving them some room and putting some distance between himself and the still seething man. Seb's shoulders sagged slightly when he finally shut his eyes, rubbing a hand over his head.

"I can't remember…" he whispered, defeated.

"Tell me what's going on, Seb. This isn't like you. I've never seen you angry once, even after some wild nights."

"Cal, I… I dunno…" His voice ebbed back into the normal soft whisper of his misery. "I think maybe I'm finally starting to lose it…"

"Don't talk like that. Just sit down and drink some water. Let's work this out."

The gesture was meant to be kind, a friend offering his hand in a time of need. Normally, Seb was the first one to embrace contact, usually giving out bear hugs or leaning sloppily on patrons as his drunken state stretched on into the night. Cal had physically put the man in bed many times, helped pry his boots off and even wrangled him out of a vomit-stained shirt once or twice.

Tonight, as Cal gently put his hand on the man's arm to help ground his wavering friend, something shifted so far out of the sheriff's control that he actually felt something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Fear.

Seb moved so fast it was hard to track, his right arm jerking back and his body positioning itself to fully face Cal. The runes that scarred Seb's skin flared to life in a deep, unnatural green that reminded Cal of fabled Fae Fire. He knew that color, seen that magic running through the veins of the men charged to dispatch his kind during the war. He always knew what Seb was but refused to let it cloud his friendship of the man who so desperately needed his help .

He was an enforcer. A magically charged human sent to maim and destroy the savage shifters. At the price of their soul.

Electric panic flew through Cal before he could rein in his emotions at seeing the flaring runes. Death was at the hands of the man who wielded that power, and Cal was in the line of fire. Trying to untangle his legs from the barstool to run, Cal fumbled against the bar, pushing off to get away.

But Seb was faster.

The blow hit him square in the chest with a crack of magic spark, Seb's palm landing against Cal's sternum and sending him flying. Green lightning danced across Cal's skin like heated wire, burning and seizing every inch of muscle in his system. For a brief moment, Cal's heart stopped, his lungs froze, and his brain misfired.

When his body reset and snapped back into working order, he was gasping. Hell was burning through the skin of his chest. Gibson was over him, eyes wide and mouth moving, but the only sound he could hear was the high ringing one gains after trauma.

"God's balls, someone go fetch Elliot!" Gibson was demanding, his big hands holding Cal's head while he tried to look into his wild eyes. "Speak to me, Cal. C'mon now. Give me something!"

"M-my chest…" Cal coughed, trying to rip his shirt off with a shaking hand.

Gibson grabbed the button-down and pulled it free, gasping in horror at what he saw. Cal forced himself up on his elbows to gain a better vantage, inspecting the damage.

In the middle of his chest, glowing in a hideous green pulse, was a rune magically sealed to his skin.

"W-what the fuck is that?" Gibson gaped, turning to aim his horror at the man responsible. "Seb, what have you done?"

Seb was shaking, holding the bar for leverage with tears running down his face. The heartbreaking look of dismay freezing his features matched the fear running through Cal's bones.

"You maimed me," Cal whispered. "You took away my ability to shift."

Gibson covered his mouth, seeming to swallow back bile.

Ice trickled down his spine as he watched Seb tighten his jaw and shake his head, sickened with himself and starting to sob.

"Seb…" Cal was trying his best not to lose his shit, but was failing fast. "Seb, you need to take this off me…"

"I can't…" he whispered, choking on tears. "I can't! Cal—I…I'm so sorry!"

"Seb, get this off me!" Cal boomed, trying to climb to his feet, but his nerves made him clumsy. He couldn't be stuck. He couldn't have lost his Centaur side, his other side, his other being. He'd lose his mind. He'd die. He'd wither and die.

"It's temporary!" Seb yelled. "It'll go away, but I can't take it off before it's run its course."

"How long?" Cal ground out through his teeth. Days? Months? Years? Would he be an old man before he'd feel the wind in his mane again?

"A couple hours. Just a couple hours, I swear," Seb stammered, shame turning his skin pale. "Gods, Cal… I'm so sorry…"

Relief sagged through Cal, and he fell back onto his ass. "You sure it's hours, Seb? You're fucking sure?"

Unable to speak further, Seb nodded and fell to his knees, holding his head and sobbing into his hands. Constantly, his mantra of apologies bubbled out of him, but Cal wasn't able to hear him, not with the level of violation he felt from the pulsing rune in his skin.

At least it was only hours, but it was still a choice stolen from him. He wouldn't be able to tap into his Centaur half until the horrible spell wore off. Until then, he was stuck human-sized and feeling somewhat helpless.

Booted feet crashed through the saloon door, Faye having run out to grab Elliot who was in tow with his supplies, Mack following, concerned, and Cody pushing past all of them.

"Cal!" Cody bellowed, glancing at his chest, Seb, the doctor, then back at Cal. "They're here."

Time froze. Silence stretched out in the saloon at Cody's words seemed to slowly sink into the cracks of everyone's minds.

Cal took a steadying breath and looked at Mack, who was staring wide-eyed at Cal's glowing rune.

"That a maim?"

"Yeah." Cal breathed.

"How long?"

"Couple hours."

"Well, fuck me sideways. Let's hope we don't have any more surprises." Mack adjusted his hat and signaled for Gibson to finish boarding up the windows. "Let's go, everyone! Time to dance."