I Hear Voices (9 page)

“You took a gold medallion from the Phoenix Art Museum. You’re hoping it will lead you to Montezuma’s gold. Sloan also wants the gold and knows he needs your psychic woo-woo shit to find it. That about sum it up?”

I stared at him in opened mouth astonishment.

“Yeah, but… How in hell do you know that?”

His gray eyes surveyed me with a distinct lack of favor. “Sloan and I have butted heads before.

When he showed up in Phoenix, I wanted to know why.”

Wasn’t that just hunky dory? Two alpha males fighting over little ole’ me.

A news helicopter dropped down to hover just above the trees.

Omigod! The entire world was being treated to an up close and personal view of my flab. I should have let Peg Leg shoot me. Darting under the trees, I eyed the nearby women’s restroom. Could I make it before…

“Don’t make me chase you,” Dixon, the mind reader, growled. He wheeled his motorcycle in front of me. “Get on.”

“That’s a really bad idea. Just leave me here.

You’ll never out run them.”

“Get.”

“On.”

“The.”

“Fucking bike.”

“Yes, sir.” I crawled on behind him and hung on for dear life as he roared off.

Those damned news helicopters just kept on following us like a bunch of vultures. The thought of millions and millions of people gawking at my so—

not-ready-for-prime-time-body gave

me

the

heebie-jeebies.

Granny Annabel floated effortlessly alongside the motorcycle. “Your man is a fearless hero and he will find a way to rescue you.”

I snorted. “Right. Derek’s faster than a speeding bullet and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. Oh wait. He’s not Superman, he’s a giant pain-in-my ass.”

Dixon eyed me warily in the side mirror. “How hard did you hit your head?”

“Gee, let me think. Did I get my brains scrambled when the helicopter crashed and burned real pretty? Or did it happen when I crashed Derek’s Hummer and the airbags deployed too late?

Or maybe it was when Peg Leg smacked me in the face? Or could it have been when I was kidnapped by a maniac on a motorcycle that dangled me over his lap like a sack of potatoes?”

“Watch your tone,” Dixon snarled.

“Or what? You’ll toss me off the motorcycle and shoot me?”

“No, I’ll give you to Buzzard. He likes women with curves.”

“Be still my heart. Wait a minute. Buzzard!?

Isn’t he the dude with all those funky Marlon Brando tattoos?”

“Yes.”

Wasn’t I the luckiest girl in the world? The scary guy with the serial killer eyes liked me and my curves. “Does he really think he’s Marlon Brando reincarnated?”

Dixon nodded. “He’s a good man to have in a knife fight.”

Color me happy, a serial killer with a knife fetish. I hissed at Granny, “Where the hell is Derek?”

“Look behind you,” Granny responded.

I glanced over my shoulder. Holy Jesus! Lights flashing, sirens screaming a parade of police cars were hot on our heels. My brains really were scrambled not to have noticed that three ring circus.

“I don’t see Derek.”

Granny pointed.

I squinted trying to ignore those funny black spots that kept popping in and out of my vision.

Sure enough here came Derek, doing Mach one on Peg Leg’s Harley. He blew by the patrol cars like they were standing still.

One look at Sloan’s deadly expression and I groaned. When he caught up to us, I was going to

catch holy hell for stealing and wrecking his car.

Dixon would be lucky not to end up dead.

Wearily, I leaned my aching head against Dixon’s back and prayed for a miracle.

A police officer jumped out and threw a spiked stop strip.

Yelping, I grabbed a hold of Dixon’s belt as he abruptly swerved around the stick, barreled up on the sidewalk and missed the pissed off cop by inches.

For a long moment, I stared at the butt of a handgun protruding from the waistband of Dixon’s jeans. I’ll be damned. There was my miracle.

Yanking the gun out, I pressed it to the back of his skull and yelled, “Pull over.”

The jerk just laughed. “The safety’s on sweetheart.”

I flipped it off. “Not any longer. Stop the fucking bike.”

“You won’t shoot me.”

“Wanna bet?”

He laughed harder. “No bullets.”

Shit! I checked and sure enough, the clip was missing.

“Derek’s gonna have his hands full with you.”

Huh?

Without warning, Dixon zoomed into a parking garage and skidded to a stop next to our doubles on a matching red Harley.

I gaped at my clone. Damn, she really looked like me. How sad was that?

“Give me your t-shirt,” Dixon ordered.

My clone peeled it off and dropped it on the pavement.

Yikes! Not only was she braless, but she had screaming skulls tattooed on what had to be double E breasts. Gotta be a biker thing. Cuz sexy, it wasn’t.

“Go,” Dixon said and they squealed out of the parking garage.

“You really think it’s gonna work?”

He backed us into the shadows. “Watch.”

Derek screamed past in hot pursuit with the cop cars right on his tail.

Cocking my head, I listened as the helicopters took the bait, too.

Animosity glittering in his eyes, Dixon held his hand out. “Give me my fucking gun.”

I quickly handed it to him and watched as he shoved the clip in.

“You point a gun at a man you’d better be prepared to use it.”

“I was.”

Dixon shot me a derisive look and shoved the gun in his waistband. “You’re not a killer, sweetheart.”

I bared my teeth in a snarl. “A few more days like this one and I will be.”

An unholy smile pulled at Dixon’s mouth. “Has he fucked you yet?”

“What?”

“It’s a simple question. Have you slept with Sloan?”

“It’s none of your damned business.”

“Oh but it is.”

This was getting way out of hand. Clutching my stomach, I groaned and slid off the motorcycle. “I don’t feel so good.”

Dixon quickly backed away. “You puke on me again and so help me God, I’ll…”

A gun cocked and Derek inquired blandly, “You’ll do what? Smack her around?”

“No.” Dixon raised his hands and turned to face Derek. “But I’d be happy to smack you around.”

“Lose the gun.”

Using two fingers, Dixon carefully removed it and set it on the ground.

“Get over here, Angel.”

Before I could move, Dixon stepped in front of me. “She’s my property and you’re not taking her anywhere.”

“How much do you want for her?”

The ass actually thought he could buy me?

“One hundred thousand and ten percent of any gold you find,” Dixon answered.

“No! No and no! This is the United Fucking States and it’s against the law to sell people.” The urge to sock Dixon was getting stronger by the second.

Derek cocked a mocking eyebrow. “Is it?”

“Biker’s law gives me the right to sell any female I own,” Dixon added.

With a growl of rage, I scooped the gun off the floor and pointed it at Dixon. “I’m not for sale.”

Frowning, Derek took a step towards me. “Be careful, Angel.”

Dixon whipped his head around. His gray eyes burned with the promise of retaliation. “A little quality time with Buzzard should cure your rebellious streak.”

My lack of chocolate was making me a tad bit homicidal and a whole lot stupid. I fired off a round, missing his boot by an inch. “Move away from the bike.”

“Zelda, put the gun down before you get hurt,”

Derek snapped, moving towards me.

“Stop!” I aimed the pistol at him. “After all the crap you’ve put me through, don’t think I won’t shoot you, too.”

Exasperation flashed in Derek’s eyes. “I saved your ass today and a little gratitude would be nice.”

“Gratitude!?” I winced, that had come out a bit shrill. “Okay, you did keep that Apache warrior from killing me.”

“You’re damned right I did.”

Dixon chortled, “Seriously, an Apache warrior?”

“Yes,” we both snapped in unison.

I waved the gun around. “And I saved you and your men from the Thunder God, twice.”

“I kept those two bikers from shooting you.”

“They wouldn’t have been shooting at me if you hadn’t broadcast my name all over the known universe.”

“She does have a point,” Dixon added.

Derek snarled, “Butt out. This doesn’t concern you.”

A low, aggressive growl broke from Dixon.

“Doesn’t it? She’s a member of the Dirty Dozen.”

A muscle in Derek’s jaw twitched. “Fifty thousand and one percent of the gold.”

“Here’s a thought, we split the gold,” I spat at Derek.

“Works for me,” Dixon commented.

The Tomb Raider snorted. “I’ll pay you twenty percent to help me find the gold, Angel, and not a dime more.”

“Fifty-Fifty or I rescind the offer.”

Derek countered, “Fifteen percent and I don’t throw your ass in jail.”

“Go to hell.” My finger tightened on the trigger and bam the gun fired.

The bullet zinged past Derek’s shoulder and hit a Prius, shattering a passenger side window. The car alarm shrieked and wailed.

“Whoops.”

Fury radiating from him, Derek roared, “Whoops?”

“What’s the big deal? You’re wearing body armor.”

“I’m gonna put you over my knee and you won’t be able to sit down for a week,” Derek growled, stalking towards me.

“Take another step and we’ll see how well your body armor works.”

“Go ahead,” Dixon prompted with a smile, “I’m curious myself.”

I backed towards the Harley. “I’m taking the motorcycle and if either of you try to stop me, I will shoot you.”

“You’re in no shape to drive,” Dixon snapped.

Like that was going to stop me.

Derek holstered his Glock and gave me an “I’m too sexy for my shirt” smile, “You won’t shoot me, Angel, we’re soul mates.”

Granny was such a blabbermouth. “We are not nor will we ever be soul mates.” I lowered the pistol. “How attached are you to your balls?”

Derek froze. “Calm down, Angel.”

With a startling quick movement, Dixon spun and knocked the gun out of my hand.

I staggered back, hit the Harley and it toppled over with a loud bang. “Ooops.”

His face a mask of rage, Dixon bellowed, “Ooops?”

“Sorry.”

“You will be,” Dixon grabbed my sore arm and I yelped.

Derek jammed his Glock into Dixon’s neck. “Let her go.”

Dixon slipped a leg under Derek’s and pulled and kicked simultaneously.

Sloan hit the ground hard and retaliated by kicking Dixon off his feet. The two men were immediately locked in a silent, gasping combat; rolling over and over on the garage floor, punching the shit out of each other.

Guess that took care of that problem. With any luck, they’d kill each other. I eyed the motorcycle and knew I would never be able to pick it up.

Weariness crept over me. I was sweaty, tired, and covered in blood and sand. All I wanted was a shower, something cold to drink, and a cool, dark place to lie down.

Silver-black whorls danced in my vision and I was having trouble focusing. It was as if I was moving in slow motion. I shook my head to clear it but only succeeded in making it throb worse.

Grabbing the t-shirt off the floor, I pulled it on and stumbled out of the parking garage.

A hot, arid wind blasted my sunburned skin.

Squinting against the glare, I looked around, trying to figure out where the hell I was. “Do you know where we are Granny?”

“I think we’re somewhere near the ballpark.”

Too far for me to walk home and I didn’t have any money for a taxi. The world suddenly tilted and spun dizzily around me. I grabbed a tree and fought to stay upright.

A jaunty red Miata squealed to a stop and my drop-dead gorgeous cousin, Fabian, jumped out.

Leave it to him to wear a white, two thousand dollar suit in this heat. He always made me feel frumpy. “What are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you, bella.”

“I don’t need rescuing. I’ve got it handled.”

Fabian raised an incredulous eyebrow as he examined me from head to toe. “I can see how well you are handling this, but I cannot disobey Uncle Aldo, he is the head of the family.”

“Sure you can. Just tell him you couldn’t find me.”

“Try not to get any blood on my jacket, bella.” His expression one of extreme distaste, Fabian picked me up gingerly and carried me over to the Miata.

I was seriously tempted to rub my bloody face all over his screaming white suit but I did need a ride. Glancing over his shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Derek and Dixon still pounding the crap out of each other. Wonder how long it would take them to realize I was gone?

Fabian dumped me in the seat, hurried around to driver’s side and jumped in.

“Couldn’t you have gotten a car with a roof and ice cold AC?”

“This is more my style,” Fabian responded as we tore off.

“Wouldn’t want to cramp your style but it’s Phoenix, it’s degrees today and did you not notice my terrific sunburn?”

He patted my leg. “I’ll get you some chocolate.”

“Bless you.” Sometimes family was the best. I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes.

“Oh yeah, before I pass out, I’ve got a tracker in me. Did you bring your kit?”

“Of course, Zelda, I am a professional.”

“You’re a world famous supermodel.”

“I am Dragos,” he huffed indignantly.

“Sorry, I’ve had a really bad day.”

Fabian patted my knee again. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe, bella.”

I let out a weary sigh. “I haven’t been safe since Aunt Sophie found me.”

Granny’s disembodied voice insisted, “Derek can and will protect you.”

My cousin gave a startled yelp when Granny Annabel suddenly materialized on my lap. “Dios Mio.”

Opening my eyes, I glared at her. “Derek, my knight in shining armor, will undoubtedly protect me but once he gets the gold, he’ll be long gone and I’ll still have to deal with Aunt Sophie.”

A ghostly hand stroked my face. “You’re the only one that can stop her, bella.”

“She scares the living shit out of me.”