Page 8 of Kentucky Nights (Dead Man’s Ranch #1)

In one swift distortion, I’m in front of him, gun pressed under his chin. “Unlike your friends here, I’m a decent man. I like the truth. If you’re honest, you can go. I swear on my fangs.”

“They have her in a shed by the river. Rogue shifters aren’t the best company. I heard them talking, and they had horrible plans for her. One said he was going to pass her around?—”

“—Enough,” I hiss, my fangs aching for violence.

I struggle with the need to kill him. I don’t want his blood. I only crave the one I’ve been scenting. I want him to die because he wasn’t going to do anything to try and save her. He should face the death penalty for that, but unfortunately, I am a man of my word.

Shoving the hot barrel against his chin, I let him go. “Go,” I order.

He jumps over the bar, shifts into his wolf, and bolts out the door. Swinging my gun around my finger, I tuck it in the holster and take one step to the back door.

“Kentucky, I didn’t take you for the killing type. Color me impressed.”

I groan when I hear his voice. I did not miss this man at all. “I don’t have time for this, Lorcan. My mate is on this property somewhere, and I have to find her.”

“Your mate? Last I checked, you didn’t want one. I’ve known you a long time, Kentucky. This changes all your little plans.” He grins, wiggling his fingers at me playfully.

I blur through the back door, needing to get away from him. Lorcan and I have an odd relationship. I wouldn’t call him a friend, but he is the closest thing I have to one. He came to take my maker’s soul the night she died. He’s a Void, a grim reaper who works for Death.

I thought he was there for me, but when I lived, Lorcan didn’t take my soul.

Over the years, I know he has done his best to heal me, as a good friend would do.

He let me know the basics about being a vampire.

Told me how there were other creatures too.

He helped me when I didn’t have anyone, and I’m grateful for that.

But damn that Void for his poor timing. He is always good at interrupting. Always.

He pops up in front of me. “Usually when another paranormal kills another, I have to let the Hell Harvester’s know. You know, the paranormal cops that keep order. The Four Horsemen.”

“Let them know, Lorcan. I do not care. I have business to attend to, so if you don’t mind.”

“Well, you’ve put me in a spot?—”

I sneer, pressing my gun between the abyss’s he has for eyes.

“I don’t care about the position you are in.

Do your job. I don’t care if Death comes knocking at my door and sends me to the pits of hell.

” I whistle for Romeo, needing him here for when I find my Beloved.

“But I will find my mate. I won’t let her die here. ”

“Don’t you know? You don’t want to live forever, Kentucky. You have two choices now. Mate her and live forever, or don’t and you both die. So if you don’t want to live forever, I say leave her here, and you can finally die the way you have always wanted.”

I snarl, launching at him, but he vanishes into thin air.

“You’re so moody for a cowboy. You know I’m telling the truth. Oh, oh, can I pet him?” He claps his hands when Romeo stops beside me.

“No.”

“He isn’t interested, Lorcan, and I need to find my mate. Stop bothering me.”

“Why? You want to die. I’m only doing what you want.

” He snaps his fingers. “Shit, I have to go. The boss is calling, but you need to think about what I said. You can finally have an out, Kentucky. You can finally be free. This conversation isn’t over, but I have to take these souls to Hell.

Lucifer is pissed. Alright, bring it in, give me a hug.

” He spreads his arms, curling his fingers in a gesture that says, ‘come on.’

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

“I’d live.” He’s gone, leaving me irritated like always.

I’m frozen in place, his words sinking deeper into my soul. I do want to die. This is my chance. I could turn my back, walk away, and be gone forever.

The scream I hear ruins any of those thoughts. No matter how much I want to die, I could never leave my mate behind without telling her the truth.

With a held breath, I bolt downstream. I’m almost half a mile away from the bar when I catch sight of an old shed nestled in the darkened part of the forest.

She’s in there. I know she is. I feel the pull, the rope that ties us together, tugging at my soul harder. The desperation in the muscles of my heart is something I’ve never felt before. I become more frantic in the need to get to her.

Her blood is easier to scent the closer I get.

Mate.

Mine.

Beloved.

There are the words again, echoing in my mind. The reason why I’ve lived when I wasn’t meant to is for this moment. All these years, all this time wondering why I’ve survived, makes sense now.

I’ve lived to save her.

I bust the lock, rip the door from its hinges, and fling it to the left, the wood smashing against a tree.

The inside of the shack is dark, but with my vision, I’m able to see the woman who has caused my soul chaos in my very stagnant life.

Iron hangs in the air. Blood is dripping in tune with the rain outside.

She’s lying in the middle of the floor, barely breathing, the strong scent of drugs coursing through her system.

“What did they do to you?” I stare at my fated mate in horror, a rage of violence building in my chest.

I’m glad I killed them all, and I’d do it again if it meant finding her.

In another swift motion, I’m wrapping my arms around her to lift her from the filthy ground. She’s limp, falling into my hold without a fight. Her eyes continue to stay closed even after jostling her around. She’s unconscious.

Good.

I don’t want her waking up to see a stranger holding her naked, bruised, and wound-ridden body.

She’s alive.

And naked.

I can’t help my reaction since she is my beloved, but I can control my actions.

I turn my head, tug my shirt off, and gently put her head through the hole, then her arms. Pulling the shirt down, I swallow the lust, trying to possess my ability to string a thought together.

Her soft skin brushes against my century-or- so-old calloused fingertips, and I am already craving to explore her body.

Now is not the time for those sensations.

My shirt falls to her knees, giving her privacy and keeping her wounds covered. Her body should only be revealed if she wants to reveal it.

Slipping my arms around her, I pick her up and hold her to my chest. My eyes water when her scent buries itself in my lungs.

I inhale deeply, pressing her harder against me, and bury my nose into her hair.

She was so close to death that I might not have been able to hold her in my arms. I almost didn’t get to experience how good it is to hold the one who is fated to me.

My tear drips into the gash on her cheek, and I lean down, pressing a gentle kiss on the middle of her forehead. “Come on, My Darlin’ Beloved, let’s get you home.”

Maybe dying can wait another day because living doesn’t seem so bad now that I have her in my arms.