Nothing Xio Davis does is right. When she abandons her pack, riding out of town on the back of a stranger’s motorcycle, she finds she’s bitten off more than she can chew. First, it’s small-time crimes, then bank robbery. As Xio sinks into the criminal underworld, the FBI catches up with her. Now, she’s got one way out: snitch.
When Xio turns state's evidence against a Mexican drug lord, Agent Marcus Cazador steps up to take her home, giving up his career, his place in the El Paso pack, and all he knows to protect her.
Xio claims she’s not the same wolf who left ten years before, but can she convince Marcus she’s changed her wicked ways? Or will the Black Hills be the end of the road on her long journey to redemption?
Excerpt:
“A bank that’s never been robbed. There’s a first time for everything.”
State-of-the-art security. Armed rent-a-cops stationed on either side
of the double doors. A busy street making a speedy getaway difficult. A lot of
excellent reasons for Xio Davis get back in her Beemer and get out of Dodge.
None good enough to deter her from a challenge.
The two men who’d ridden with her climbed out. The bigger of the pair,
Juan, rolled his shoulders before reaching into the cab for a ski mask and
weapon, then passing it off to Miguel. “Catch.” He grabbed another and tossed
it over the roof to her.
She caught it, slammed a full magazine home, and tucked it under her
duster. With a wink, she retrieved her Day of the Dead mask from a recent
celebration. “Okay, boys. Let’s break their lucky streak.”
Diego gave her the freedom to do whatever she wanted these days, as
long as she kept his bed warm, and whenever she left his hacienda, she
remembered to take her escorts with her. Maybe it was his way of keeping his
eye on her—or on his money. Whatever the reason, she didn’t like it, so Xio
kept the boys too busy to stick their noses in her personal business. Too busy
to get close to the truth.
He didn’t smack her around or pass her among his friends and
associates. And his men had long ago learned to respect her personal space.
After one of his new hires had groped her, the man had lost a couple fingers
and ended up in a body cast. Diego didn’t have to say a word or do anything to
intervene. She’d policed her own problems.
Her boyfriend had grown busy with cartel business and that suited her
fine. Never present, all the better. They didn’t love each other, but had an
understanding. He provided for her, protected her when she needed it. She
scratched his itch and spent his money.
But life had grown dull. Triggered by a botched bank robbery in El
Paso, a restlessness had begun to swell inside her. Why, after all these years,
she didn’t know, but it was there, a constant reminder she’d shackled her true
nature in her quest to be free.
Her wolf constantly paced in her consciousness. Xio found herself
unable to settle, shift, or run in the wilds as her inner beast demanded. Not
because she physically couldn’t but because outside forces conspired against
her. That was what happened when you lived with humans.
Wolf—dog—it didn’t matter. All made great sausage for hungry families
in the villages surrounding the Sanchez ranch, and it was a risk she hadn’t
taken in the ten years’ time since she’d almost ended up in a taco on some
family’s dinner table.
She didn’t want to be in Mexico, and she didn’t want to be with Diego
anymore, but she really didn’t have a choice or anywhere else to go. Hence, the
reason she’d crossed the border for this small amusement. Perhaps she could get
some of the pent-up energy out. Open a valve and vent.
Speaking of which….
Xio pulled the mask over her eyes and strode through the front doors of
the bank. Her two team members flanked her.
No one seemed to notice them yet. Not very observant for a bank that
claimed to have a robbery-free record. Deciding to wake them all up, she yanked
an AKS-762 assault rifle—with a custom stock and barrel that catered to her
size—from under her canvas duster and fired several rounds into the ceiling.
Chunks of plaster rained down on the patrons in the lobby. Multiple people
screamed and several of the customers hit the floor before she needed to
provide them with instruction. Conversely, not everyone appeared to be a rocket
scientist. Not a problem. She had great communication skills and hearing
protection in her ears.
Xio fired a second time, bringing down more of the ceiling. She pointed
at the floor. “On your bellies, ladies and gentlemen.” As though doing the
“wave” at a sporting event, they dropped.
She strolled to the front of bank, kicked over one of the posts holding
a velvet rope, and stepped over it. She’d never been patient enough to wait in
line and wasn’t about to run their little maze now. Xio removed her earplugs
and tuned in with her wolf hearing, listening for anyone who might want to be a
hero. Not a peep—some crying, but that was par for the course.
Not a daredevil in the bunch.
She eyed the staff on the floor. The one thing all bankers feared was a
robber who jumped the teller line, and she was about to become their worst
nightmare. They’d taken classes, trained for robberies, all bank staff did—and
what did their security specialists warn them about? Her—joining them behind
the counter, up close and personal, with a loaded weapon.
“Palms on the floor and your ankles crossed. I haven’t got all day.”
She stopped at one of the windows and without the use of her hands,
jumped up on the marble countertop. At five feet two, the feat should have been
impossible for a human female of her stature, but she wasn’t completely
human—and impossible wasn’t in her vocabulary. In fact, that was why she’d come
here, chosen this robbery-proof bank. It was a matter of honor, and a little
about her ego. The branch had never been successfully robbed, and she’d decided
to change that.
It was Wednesday, the day after their big shipment came in, and the
third of the month, when a large majority of seniors got their Social Security
checks. Prime for the picking. The setup couldn’t be any sweeter.
She cocked her head and listened for sirens in the distance. Five
minutes out, if her hearing served correct. “Here’s how we are going to do
this. When I tap you on the shoulder, you get up and fill the backpack with
cash. No bait bills. I can tell what they are, so don’t fuck with me.” She
hopped off the counter and behind the teller line, nudging the first person
there with the flash suppressor on the end of her weapon. “Move.”
With tears in her eyes, the teller staggered to her feet, blubbering
something about children at home. Over the last ten years, Xio had heard every
story imaginable, and the young woman’s tale did little to change what she
planned to do. No, she’d never killed anyone, nor did she intend to start
today, but they didn’t know that.
“Save the speech and stuff the bag.” She shoved the backpack into the
blonde’s hands. “Now.”
The young woman pulled the drawer open and grabbed handfuls of cash,
leaving the bait bill in the till as instructed. Xio didn’t need to see the
special ultraviolet ink on it to know what it was. Her wolf could smell that it
had been handled a multitude of times by the same person. Once the teller
finished, Xio shoved her back to the floor and nudged the next. “Your turn.”
All followed instruction, until she reached the last person, a man.
Something about him raised her hackles. She should have listened to the
warning, but there were still two minutes left and she’d yet to empty the
commercial drawer, where they kept the big money. Greed won over instinct, and
Xio toed him with her combat boot. “Up, big boy.”
And wasn’t that understatement of the year? As he stood, she realized
he had to be at least six feet four, dwarfing her tiny frame. He didn’t look
like your typical banker, at least not any she’d dealt with in the past, and he
sure as hell didn’t smell like a banker.
Wolf. Shit.
He looked her in the eyes, holding her gaze for a few seconds, making
her trigger-finger itch. She wore a mask from a recent Day of the Dead
celebration and had salted her words with a Spanish accent, so unless he could
pick out her eyes in a lineup, he wouldn’t be able to identify her.
Regardless, she found his action brazen, considering she’d already
fired several rounds, though not enough he’d think her magazine empty. None of
the others so much as looked at her. This one had the balls to take a mental
snapshot that would help a sketch artist. The last thing she needed. There was
also one other thing missing. Fear.
The feeling prodding her before roared to life. Cop. Ah, that’s
the reason his scent had seemed so familiar. Double shit. Not only was
he a cop, but they’d crossed paths before. This was the man, or should she say
wolf, who had been on her trail for months, since her gang had slipped up in El
Paso. Lord knew she’d tried to ditch him. Once a wolf got a scent of his prey,
he didn’t back down. Things had just gone from bad to worse. She wasn’t sure
what pack he was from. More than likely the El Paso Cazador in Southern Texas.
Wolves didn’t tend to stray too far from their territories, not higher-ranking
pack members, anyway. Something told her he was up there in the group, a Beta,
if not an Alpha. The stench of authority clung to him.
Wolf or not, one thing was for certain. He wasn’t here to administer
pack law. Suddenly nervous—something that never happened to her—Xio stepped
back to put space between them.
She’d walked them into a trap, and if what she saw in the man’s eyes
was correct, a carefully orchestrated one. Her only advantage was that she
still had a loaded assault rifle. “We need to leave. Now,” she called out to
her crew, who were supposed to be watching the customers in the lobby.
No sound. No confirmation they’d heard her. Not good. She couldn’t
smell them, but that didn’t mean anything. They could be near an air-conditioning
vent or fresh-air exchange. Wouldn’t be the first time it’d happened. She
chanced a glance back to see what they were doing, and saw no sign of them. Shit!
They’d either bailed, left her to take the fall, or they’d already been
apprehended while she’d been preoccupied with cleaning out the teller stations.
As she turned to address the cop, her weapon was wrenched away and the
butt caught her in the jaw. Xio dropped like a bag of rocks. Her wolf wasn’t
helping her out of this one. That was what she got for letting her ego get
involved.
“Good
morning, Miss Davis. Let me introduce myself. I’m Special Agent Marcus Cazador
of the FBI. Didn’t anyone ever tell you banks are most often robbed within the
first few minutes of opening? We figured you’d be here, after the invitation
we’d extended. Safest bank in Texas. I can see you liked the billboard
at the port of entry. You and I have a lot to talk about, but business first.”
He’d used her real name, one she hadn’t heard in ten years. It sounded
strange coming from his mouth, but also right, as though he’d been born to say
it. Not good. This man was dangerous in so many ways. “Bite me.”
Check out my other work at: http://www.authordljackson.com
For other books in the series: http://www.decadentpublishing.com
******************************For the Hunting
Party*********************************
It's a hunting party. Be sure to check
my calendar on my blog at Backward Momentum
On one of the posts in January before
the 23rd, I will be offering up an ARC, or advanced reader's e-copy of my soon
to be released title, Black Hills Desperado. On a couple other posts, I will
offer prizes of a signed copy of Slipping the Past and a signed tee with one of
my Decadent backlist titles on the front.
I'm only giving out one ARC e-copy of Black
Hills Desperado before release, and entry time will be limited. You will have
until midnight of the post to comment and leave your name and email on the
specially designated post. If you have already pre-ordered and do not want the
ARC copy, I will offer a $10 Amazon Gift Certificate instead. This is book 3 in
the Black Hills Wolves series from Decadent Publishing. Good luck, my wolfish
readers!
Author Bio:
D.
L. Jackson is an award-winning author of urban fantasy, science fiction,
military romance and erotic romance. She loves to incorporate crazy plot
twists, comedy and the unexpected into her worlds. As a U.S. Army veteran, she
naturally adores men in uniform and feels the world could always use more. She
does her part by incorporating as many sexy soldiers in her novels as she can.
When she isn't writing or running the roads, you can often find her online
chatting with her peers and readers. Grab a cup of iced coffee, pull up your
virtual chair and say hi. She loves emails and blog visits from her readers.
www.authordljackson.com
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