20. A Shot in the Dark

Seth blinked. The situation was already bad enough, thanks to the way Devynn Rowe had thought it a good idea to follow him here, but to have his brother turn up like this out of nowhere?

“It’s all right,” he said hurriedly. “We were just having a little chat.”

Charles came farther into the mine shaft, and she inched closer to Seth. Her face was pale and her dress smudged with dirt — he guessed she must have hidden in the bed of the truck, and he, so preoccupied with making sure this moonshine run went off without a hitch, hadn’t even noticed — but he noticed the way her chin set in defiance as she stared back at his brother.

“A private one,” she said pointedly, and a corner of Charles’s mouth lifted in a sneer.

“Funny place for it,” he remarked, then returned his attention to his brother. “You couldn’t even get this one simple thing right, could you? You had to bring her along, when you knew this place needed to be kept a secret.”

The dim lantern light couldn’t quite hide the flash of Devynn’s eyes. “How can it be a secret from me when this was the very spot where Seth found me two weeks ago? I suppose I can see why you would want to keep your activities secret from the rest of Jerome, but it’s not as if I didn’t already know this mine shaft existed.”

“A fair point,” Charles conceded, although something in his voice told Seth he hadn’t much liked acknowledging she was correct about that one particular of the situation. “However, it doesn’t mean you have any reason to be here now…unless you were snooping where you shouldn’t have been. Incompetent as my brother often is, I still doubt he would have brought you here on purpose.”

An angry retort rose to Seth’s lips, but he swallowed it before he could say the words aloud. There was no point in arguing with Charles now. The only thing he wanted to do was to get Devynn away from here as quickly as possible. He would lose precious time taking her down the hill to Ruth’s house, but he absolutely couldn’t leave her here, no matter how confident she’d seemed to be when she said she was fine with waiting in the mine shaft until he returned. The trip to Prescott would take at least an hour and a half even if he pushed the truck to its top speed of forty-five miles an hour, and what was she supposed to do during that time? Simply stand here and wait for him? Sit on the dirty ground, thus ensuring the ruin of her dress?

Devynn’s hands went to her hips. “I don’t think it’s any business of yours why I’m here, Charles McAllister. That’s between Seth and me. But if you’re worried about me telling someone what I’ve seen, don’t be. I can keep a secret.”

That’s for sure, passed through Seth’s mind. However, the last thing he intended to do was let Charles know anything about all the secrets Devynn Rowe had been hiding for the past two weeks.

Charles began to open his mouth to reply, but Seth forestalled him, saying, “I’ll bring her in the truck with me.”

His brother didn’t appear at all satisfied by that solution. “And show her where the drop-off location is? I don’t think so. Besides, you’d never be able to fit the promised number of jugs in the cab if she’s in there with you.”

Fair point. Still, Seth wasn’t about to let it go that easily. “She can carry some,” he replied. “And I’ll leave her somewhere in Prescott before I get to my destination, then come back and get her. At least that way, she’ll only be alone for ten or fifteen minutes, not more than an hour.”

“Still unacceptable,” Charles said. “I’ll drive her back to Jerome, and you can go ahead with the delivery as planned.”

Seth didn’t like that idea very much. True, he didn’t see any real reason why he shouldn’t allow Devynn to be alone with his brother for the few minutes he’d be driving her down the hill — as a promised consort, it wasn’t as though he would have designs on her person or anything close to it — but still, he worried that Charles might try to press her as to the real reason why she’d followed him here.

She’d been about to tell him something…something that was obviously important to her, or she wouldn’t have attempted such a desperate gambit as stowing away in the truck in the first place.

What in the world could she still be hiding? Hadn’t she already confessed everything to him?

On the surface, Charles’s plan seemed like the most logical one. But something about the situation just didn’t smell right.

“Why were you up here at all, Charles?” he demanded. “Didn’t you trust me to show up when I said I would?”

“This has nothing to do with ‘trust,’” his brother replied. However, his gaze shifted away for just the barest second, and Seth realized he was lying, that he’d truly thought his younger brother couldn’t manage such a simple task as gathering tonight’s shipment and taking it to Prescott…something he shouldn’t have had to do in the first place, since he’d already done one of these infernal runs the night before. But Charles had slipped him a note saying they needed an emergency shipment tonight as well, and Seth had known there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to protest the situation. Voice taut, Charles went on, “This was about making sure that everything continues to go smoothly. Believe me, you don’t want to make any mistakes with these people, and I needed to be sure that last night’s shipment wasn’t a fluke.”

A warning Charles had made before. In that moment, though, Seth couldn’t help wondering if his brother was truly concerned about his physical well-being, or whether he simply wanted to avoid the kind of messiness that might draw the eyes of the authorities toward the McAllister clan.

Or maybe it was a little of both.

Devynn had been watching the back-and-forth, a bit like someone surveying a particularly intense volley session during a tennis match. Now, though, her arched brows pulled into a frown and she said, “I can wait here, or I can go with you, Seth. But I don’t want your brother to drive me back to Jerome.”

“A lovely display of trust,” Charles drawled, and her eyes narrowed further.

“I don’t think you’ve given me much of a reason to trust you,” she retorted, then went on before he could respond. “In fact, it’s pretty clear to me that you were the one involved in bootlegging, and now that you’re engaged, you want to fob it off on Seth. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Had anyone ever stood up to Charles like that before? Seth somehow doubted it. The women in their clan were no shrinking violets, but as the eldest son in his immediate family and the one who would have inherited the store if he hadn’t become Abigail’s consort, he also held a position of some respect in the McAllister clan.

“It doesn’t matter what I tell you,” he replied, his tone unconcerned, “since it’s fairly clear to me that you’ve already made up your mind on the subject. And if you think it better to stand here in this damp, chilly mine shaft for the greater part of two hours while my brother does the job he promised to do, so be it. You will not, however, accompany him to Prescott. He can’t spare the time. Understood?”

For a moment, Devynn only stood there, matching Charles stare for stare, hands placed on her hips. It wasn’t as if she relented, precisely, rather that she seemed to decide the matter wasn’t worth any further argument.

“Understood,” she replied. “But you don’t mind if I walk him to his truck, do you?”

“Not at all,” Charles said smoothly. “You can help carry the rest of the cargo to the vehicle. That way, we’ll make up some of the time we’ve lost bickering over this foolishness.”

Her mouth set, but she didn’t say anything, only marched over to the little alcove where the rest of the jugs he’d already prepared were waiting and scooped up several of them. Feeling resigned, Seth bent down to pick up the ones he’d originally been carrying when all of this started, and Charles did his part as well, going to retrieve his load of contraband.

They all headed out to the truck, which was now shrouded in true shadow, with the sun set well behind the mountain. Because of this, Seth didn’t even notice the tall shadow that stepped out from behind a concealing boulder before it was too late.

“Quite the party here, McAllister,” Lionel Allenby said, and Seth froze.

What the hell was he doing up here?

Charles startled — and then seemed to realize it was better to affect an attitude of unconcern, even as Devynn continued setting the jugs of moonshine on the floorboard in front of the truck’s passenger seat. Speaking quickly, he said, “My brother is making the new shipment as promised. Everything remains on schedule.”

“Does it?” Allenby returned, moving closer. He flicked a negligent glance at his wristwatch and added, “Because it seems to me as if you’re running a bit late.”

“I’m leaving right after this,” Seth said, knowing he needed to say whatever he could to salvage the situation, even as he prayed like hell that none of the tension gripping his body had found its way into his voice. “It’s a difference of fifteen minutes at the most. I can make that time up on the road.”

Lionel Allenby didn’t appear moved by that argument. His mouth flattened into an ugly line, and then he said, “It seems I was right in coming here to check on you tonight, since I didn’t believe you could handle two back-to-back shipments when one job was given to you at the last minute. I still wasn’t convinced by your brother’s argument that the transition would be seamless. He had a fire in his belly for this work, while you” —a contemptuous flare of his nostrils — “always seemed like the worst sort of Goody Two-Shoes. And to bring a woman into all this?”

Now finished with putting the moonshine in the truck, Devynn turned back around, her expression indignant. “He didn’t ‘bring’ me into anything,” she said. “I came here without him knowing, and I offered to help to get things back on track.”

The sneer never left Allenby’s face. “How very Christian of you,” he replied. “But you see, you’ve only proven how careless he is, if you could sneak up on him without him even noticing. We can’t afford to have that sort of sloppiness in our operation.”

“It won’t happen again,” Seth cut in. He definitely didn’t like the way Lionel Allenby was looking at Devynn — not with desire, but with the expression of a man who needed to rid himself of an unexpected complication.

“Oh, I know it won’t happen,” Allenby replied. With one hand, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pearl-handled revolver.

Devynn released a startled gasp, although she didn’t move, and Charles said hurriedly, “There’s no need for this, Allenby. They’ll keep their mouths shut.”

“Yes, they will. What’s that old saying? Dead men tell no tales? I suppose that goes for women as well.”

The sound of the pistol going off was much louder than Seth had expected. Devynn cried out, hands going to cover the splotch of blood on her midsection, a stain that spread even as he watched with horrified eyes.

“You bastard!” he bellowed.

His first instinct was to run to the man and tear the pistol from his grasp, but Charles was much closer. One hand went up and hit Allenby solidly in the jaw, and the man staggered backward. He fired again, but this time, the bullet went wild, ricocheting off the rocky hillside above them rather than finding its target.

And then Charles got hold of the pistol and flung it off the cliff before battering his opponent with more blows, sending him to his knees.

All this happened in what felt like a single flash of a moment, both men moving almost too quickly for Seth’s mind to grasp, and at the same time, feeling like a still frame rather than real life.

But he realized Devynn had sunk to the ground, her breath coming in shallow pants, and he hurried over to her so he could pull her into his arms.

“It’s all right,” he said. “We’ll get you to Helen.”

Could Helen cure a gunshot wound to the stomach? She was very talented, but the men of the McAllister clan did their best to avoid confrontations such as this, and that meant Seth didn’t know for sure whether their healer ever been called upon to perform that kind of advanced care.

Devynn’s lashes fluttered. “I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “This is all my fault.”

He held her tighter, not wanting to notice how her breathing had already grown more labored, how blood now stained most of her skirt as well.

How could she possibly survive the rough ride down the hill, with the truck bouncing and jouncing her the whole way?

Dimly, he realized that Charles had knocked Lionel Allenby out cold, for the older man was now slumped against the rocky soil, eyes shut. Panting a little, Charles came over to them where they rested on the ground, his face now pale.

“Is she…?”

“She’s going to make it,” Seth said, his voice sharp. Maybe that was a lie, a pretty fiction his mind had invented because he didn’t want to face the truth, but he feared if he spoke the other words out loud, the ones that truly described Devynn’s situation, then he would make it all a terrible reality, one he couldn’t hide from.

Apparently, his brother understood this was not a point to argue over. Instead, he pulled off his jacket and handed it over, saying, “Hold this against her wound. It might help. And I’ll get the truck started.”

Yes, the important thing was to get Devynn down the hill and to Helen’s house. Perhaps in that time, Lionel Allenby would wake up and flee the scene, but they could deal with him later. Just because the McAllister clan preferred not to resort to violence, it didn’t mean they couldn’t take care of a troublesome situation when it arose…even if it involved a more permanent solution to a problem than they generally cared to utilize.

Charles hurried over to the truck, and Devynn’s eyes fluttered open, fixing on Seth’s with an intensity he wouldn’t have thought possible in her current condition.

“I wanted….” The words trailed off there, and she pulled in a ragged breath. “I wanted…to tell you….”

“It’s all right,” he said, and even though he knew it wasn’t his gift, he willed with every cell in his body all his strength and his health to her, just so she’d be able to hold on for a few minutes more. Ten minutes, and they would be at Helen’s house, and then Devynn would be safe.

A gasp, and this time, there was a terrible rattle to the sound. He’d never heard it before, but he knew what it meant.

Death was coming for the woman he loved, implacable and unmoving as the lengthening shadows that loomed over them as they sat there on the stony ground.

“Kiss me, Seth,” she whispered. “Kiss me before I go.”

This couldn’t be happening. Dimly, as if from another world, he heard the sound of the truck’s engine starting, a rumble that might have reassured him if he hadn’t known it was already too late.

What could he do except as she asked?

He bent and pressed his lips against hers, lips that still were warm and soft.

The world spun around him, whirling faster and faster into a terrible darkness deeper and blacker than anything he’d ever known. He clung to Devynn, wondering if this was death approaching, not knowing what he could possibly do to hold back the embrace of the Grim Reaper…except, perhaps, to continue to cling to her as tightly as he could and never let go.

A bump, and the darkness receded, leaving them in a place Seth knew he had never seen before. Gone were the rocky hillsides and the dry yellow grass and the indistinct, oddly shaped shadows of nearby agave plants. Instead, he stood on a neat little flagstone path in front of an imposing Victorian house, bigger than even Mabel’s near-mansion on Paradise Lane, painted a pale sage color with blood-red and darker green accents on its shutters and cornices. The wind that blew past his cheek was chilly, a far cry from the warm, summery air that had surrounded them on Mingus Mountain.

What was this place?

He staggered a step forward, noting as he did so that this appeared to be a street of similarly handsome houses, although the one in front of him was definitely the biggest of the lot, with substantial columns and stained-glass windows flanking the front door and accenting the third story of the house, right under its peaked gable. The trees planted here were young, not much taller than he, and already blazing in shades of orange and yellow and red.

Autumn, then…wherever he was.

In his arms, Devynn shifted, although her eyes were shut, and her breathing had become even more labored. Her blood had drenched his shirt front, horribly warm, and he knew he didn’t have much time now.

But how could he get her help when he had no idea where they even were?

An odd clopping sound came to his ears, and he looked over his shoulder to see a horse-drawn carriage moving slowly down the street past them. The driver didn’t seem to have noticed Seth or the woman he carried, because he didn’t pause to ask them if they needed any help.

A carriage? Sure, they still used teams of horses or mules at the mine for situations when it made more sense to have them draw a wagon than load up multiple trucks with ore and tailings or such, but Seth couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever seen someone using one as a regular daily conveyance.

Not that it mattered right now. What mattered was going up to the door of the house in front of him and knocking and begging for help. Maybe there wasn’t anyone at home who could offer assistance, but he had to at least try. Surely whoever lived there would take pity on the dying woman in his arms and send for a doctor.

Possibly too little, too late, but in the absence of his clan’s healer, Seth couldn’t think of any other options. He still had no idea precisely where he was, but he knew it had to be far, far away from Jerome. His mind didn’t quite want to grasp the significance of the autumn color on the trees and the chill in the air, not when it was so obviously summer where they’d come from, so he put that foreboding little detail aside to worry about later.

A staggering step down the neat flagstone path, and then another. The grass on either side of the walkway was neatly trimmed but yellow with frost, another sign that they’d traveled farther than he wanted to admit.

Don’t think about that. Just think about knocking on that door.

How could such a slender young woman feel so heavy in his arms?

Devynn’s head lolled against his shoulder, and he stared down at her in fright, wondering what he would do if he leaned in and realized she’d stopped breathing. But no, her breath was still there, fast and shallow, which meant she was still with him.

For now.

Just as his foot touched the bottom porch step, the front door of the house opened. Standing there was an imposing man, possibly in his middle thirties, with coal-black hair and eyes, and even, aquiline features. He wore oddly old-fashioned clothing — a black frock coat and crisp white shirt, a vest of dark green brocade — but his appearance wasn’t what made Seth freeze in place.

No, it was the wild tingle at the back of his neck that told him the stranger was a warlock. That, and the overwhelming sense of power flowing outward from the man, stronger than anything Seth had ever encountered before, not even from his clan’s prima .

“Hello,” said the stranger, his dark eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of the limp woman in Seth’s arms, the blood that stained her dress and his shirt. “It seems you are in need of some assistance.”

A pause, and then the man added, the faintest hint of a smile touching his thin lips, as though he knew the words he was about to say next wouldn’t be particularly welcome.

“I am Jeremiah Wilcox.”

The Witches of Mingus Mountain series continues in Borrowed Time , releasing on January 15 th , 2025.