Desert Dreams (27 page)

Another charge exploded, as if to confirm
Rafe's
words. El
Alacran's
eyes
widened, the first sign of fear he'd shown. Rafe relished it.

Rafe inclined his head toward a sound from above. He
surveyed the landing, and though he saw nothing, he knew someone was there. One
of El
Alacran's
men had made it inside through the
roof, something Rafe had anticipated. That was why he had decided to wait on
the altar. He could see the entire landing from his vantage point.

A movement overhead caught
Rafe's
eye at the same time that the church door flew open and a shot felled the man
on the landing. Drawing his pistol, he shot a second man who fell over the rail
into the pews below. He whirled around as El
Alacran
pulled his gun, and both men dove for cover in opposite directions.

Rafe wrapped an arm around his rib cage to ease the
pain as he crawled between a rows of pews toward the wall, his heart pounding,
the blood rushing through his veins. He had to guard his back and keep out of
sight while he figured out what was happening. He'd shot only one of the men on
the landing, and he'd be dead right now if someone else hadn't shot the other.
He didn't need to be distracted by trying to figure out the identity of the
shooter. He needed to concentrate on El
Alacran
.

A scraping sound reached his ears. It came from behind
him. He leveled his gun in the direction of the noise, but he couldn't fire. He
waited, knowing that a second's hesitation could mean the difference between
life and death, but also knowing that the other person in the church might be J
ose...
or
Annie.

Had they followed him? What other explanation could
there be?

The sound of staccato gunfire outside the church
reached
Rafe's
ears, and in the next instant a head
popped out from between two rows of pews close by.

"Annie," he murmured as she slid along the
wall toward him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

There was no time for a reply. This time when Rafe
heard something dragging along the floor, he knew it was El
Alacran
.
He peered over the backs of the pews, ducking back down to avoid a bullet.

The shot ricocheted harmlessly against a wall. As Rafe
fired back, El
Alacran
dove for cover.

"Shit!" Rafe swore. "Goddamn you,
Annie, why the hell did you come here?"

"If I hadn't, you'd be dead."

When Rafe raised up to shoot again, El
Alacran
was ready for him once more. The bullet whizzed by
Rafe's
head. Then he returned fire. He had barely ducked
again when Annie fired, and he heard the
comanchero
swear viciously.

"You saved my life again," Rafe said, but
there wasn't a shred of gratitude in his tone.

"I guess we're even now."

"Rafael!" El
Alacran
laughed, the sound bouncing off the wall. "Since you can't keep your women
alive, you have decided to arm them so they can defend themselves, I see. Does
this one know what happened to the last one?"

Rafe took advantage of the opportunity to get off a
shot, taking El
Alacran
off guard, but the other man
still managed to dodge.

"Senorita, did he tell you what happened to his
wife? He was too busy playing soldier to take care of her. She had to go to his
brother for love!"

Anne gazed at Rafe. He had gone still, except for the
flexing of the muscle in his jaw. He turned toward her, but she could read
nothing in his expression, nothing but fury and hatred.

"She used to travel the road between El Paso and
Las Cruces regularly, remember, Rafael? A dangerous stretch of road. You should
have prevented her from going so often. But I guess you were too busy being a
soldier to notice."

"Where is Jose?" Rafe whispered anxiously.

"Outside," Anne replied in the same hushed
tone. "There were other men—"

Rafe held up a hand to silence her.

"Senorita," El
Alacran
called, his voice coming from a slightly different direction. "You need a
real man. I know how to treat a woman, don't
I
,
Rafael? Rafael has led you into a trap. He will not escape with his life, but
you—I plan to take special care with you. I wonder if you will scream like the
other one."

His words struck Anne's like hailstones. She struggled
for breath, fought against the panic welling up inside her. She had to stay
lucid and reasonable for Rafe.

Rafe started to rise, but Anne laid a calming hand on
his arm and he turned to look at her, his eyes wild with rage. She shook her
head, her hand caressing his arm. Slowly the murderous glint in his eyes faded,
and he nodded, assuring her that he was again under control.

A shudder ran through him as he imagined what El
Alacran
could do to Anne if given the chance. Despite the
way she handled a gun, she was no match for El
Alacran
and his kind.

If he died, Anne would be destroyed. He had to think.
When he'd set his elaborate trap, escape had not been a part of his plan. All
he'd known was that he would kill El
Alacran
, and
whether he himself survived or not didn't matter. Now he had to think of a way
to get them out of this, even if it meant his vengeance would have to wait.

"Did he tell you that he killed his own wife,
senorita? He shot her in the head with a rifle. One shot through the
brain."

The direction of El
Alacran's
voice told Rafe the
comanchero
was moving
along the opposite wall toward the door in an effort to trap them in the
church. He didn't know about the back door. But even though El
Alacran
couldn't trap them, Rafe didn't want to let him out
of the church where he might escape.

Rafe grabbed Anne by the hand and dragged her along
the wall, trying to be as quiet as possible. El
Alacran
fired his gun, and Anne screamed when the bullet nicked the wall only a few
inches from her head.

Rafe jerked her down and they huddled in the aisle
near the wall. He held her close and felt her heart beating furiously against
his chest. He could hear the terror in the way she gasped for breath and he
silently cursed her for being here. He wanted to berate her nearly as much as
he wanted to comfort her, but there wasn't time for either.

"Annie," he whispered, "do as I say for
once. Stay here and keep your head down." His arm tightened around her
trembling shoulders before he released her. "I don't know where Jose is—if
he's even alive. But, Annie, if I
die..."

He hesitated at the tremor that ran through her body.
How could he tell her that her only choice might be to end her own life or face
unspeakable torture and inevitable death at the hands of El
Alacran
?
He looked into her dark eyes, perhaps for the last time. It tore his soul apart
to think of her dead, and he couldn't even contemplate what might happen to her
if she lived and he did not. But she lifted her face and looked into his eyes
and he knew she understood.

Reaching behind her neck, she lifted a gold chain and
lowered it over
Rafe's
head. He dropped the locket
that dangled from the chain down the front of his shirt, touching a finger to
her lips. She closed her eyes as he slipped away down the aisle toward the
front of the church.

Rafe fell to the floor as two bullets struck the pews
closest to him, splintering wood. El
Alacran
fired
again, and he ducked out of the way. This time the shot struck wood behind him
and he heard Annie gasp.

"Stay down, Annie!" he cried.

"Annie!" El
Alacran
called.

Anne fought the nausea that rose in her throat at the
sound of her name on the
comanchero
's
lips. She
shivered as she fought for control. There was something horrific about this
man—this monster who was capable of skinning an innocent woman alive, leaving
her to suffer so that her husband could find her and kill her—knowing her name,
speaking her name.

"You can live if you come to me now, Annie,"
El
Alacran
said. "Follow my voice. I'll get you
out of here. I am a wealthy man. A million dollars can buy a lot of
happiness."

Someone cursed and Rafe heard what must have been a
gun hitting the floor and a fist hitting flesh.

"Annie!" he cried. "No!"

The scuffling stopped.
Rafe's
heart pounded like a drum in his ears as he waited, dread twisting in his gut.
What had she done?

"Rafael! I'm coming out! Don't shoot or you might
miss and hit your friend!" It was El
Alacran's
voice.

"Amigo, don't shoot!"

Rafe cursed with relief at the sound of Jose's voice.
He collapsed against the wall, his lungs filling with air.

He stood when he felt steady enough, his gun hand
hanging at his side, as El
Alacran
straightened and
walked toward him shielded by Jose's body. The
comanchero
held a pistol to Jose's temple and was smiling in triumph.

"Don't worry, Jose," El
Alacran
said. "Rafael is a man of honor. He would never let you die."

"I thought you were outside," Rafe said,
playing for time.

"I came in through the back door, amigo. You
should have been more careful. One of the explosions shook the lock
loose."

"Drop your gun, Rafael," El
Alacran
warned. He walked toward Rafe, his eyes never
leaving his enemy's.

He'd be dead as soon as he dropped his gun. As long as
he held onto it, there was hope, hope for Annie. If he had to sacrifice Jose
for Annie...

"What are you going to do with so much
gold?" Rafe asked. "There's enough for all of us."

"One can never have enough gold, Rafael." El
Alacran
laughed. "Drop your gun—now."

"I told you he was a greedy bastard," Jose
said. "Shoot him, amigo. You can hit him. Shoot him."

"Jose will be dead before you can lift your
arm," El
Alacran
assured Rafe.

"Well, the way I see it, we're all dead either
way," Rafe reasoned.

The
comanchero
shrugged. "But perhaps I will let this one live and it will go easier for
your woman. I will take excellent care of her, Rafael, you can depend on
it."

El
Alacran
cursed as a shot
exploded to his left. He grabbed his arm and blood immediately began seeping
between his fingers. Jose took advantage of the moment, falling to the floor.

The
comanchero
turned, the gun still in his right hand as he gripped his left arm. He gazed at
the woman who stood pointing a pistol at him.

Anne squeezed the trigger and the loud click told her
she had run out of bullets. A smile spread over El
Alacran
features.

"Felipe!" Rafael called sharply, using El
Alacran's
given name.

His gaze still fixed on Anne, El
Alacran
lowered his gun hand to his side.
"Perdition,
Rafael, I forgot she had a gun."

In the blink of an eye, El
Alacran
whirled around toward Rafe and raised his gun again. Rafe fired and the Mexican
fell to the floor with a loud thud.

The pistol slipped from Anne's numb fingers.

"Ay, Jesus!"
Jose cried, struggling to stand
and wiping the dust from his pants. "You could have killed me! What made
you so sure you could hit him?"

"I wasn't," Anne replied, her gaze on Rafe
as he moved slowly toward the prone form of El
Alacran
.
"But I knew it was our only chance."

"Dios!
I could be dead right now!"

Anne hardly heard him. Her attention was riveted on
Rafe as he knelt beside El
Alacran
. He reached down
and rolled the
comanchero
over, placing a
finger against the throat.