I stared at him, trying not to let out the hysterical laughter I felt bubbling up deep inside.

"Seriously, babe? That's your argument? That's a f.u.c.king bullet hole about an inch from your face, and let's not mention the ear. Getting shot is almost a given at this point, more of a when than an if. We need to hold out for Dad, and now that our sniper knows we can fight back, he'll have to be more cautious about approaching the truck. That'll slow him down, which might make the difference for us."

"So your solution is to play Whac-a-Mole with a murderer?"

"Hunter?"

"Yeah?"

"It's done."

"f.u.c.k, but you p.i.s.s me off," he muttered. His body twisted, and then he kicked out, hard. "f.u.c.k!"

Long seconds pa.s.sed, and I started shivering as the icy rain soaked my shirt. Maybe I should shut the window? No ... At least this way maybe we'd hear something if they got too close.

Hunter kicked the truck again, rocking it slightly.

"Well, let's look on the bright side," I said, deciding he needed a distraction.

"Don't."

"The good news is that we'll probably be either rescued or dead before we have to worry about serious hypothermia. There's always a silver lining, Hunter."

He growled at me again.

Men.

Chapter Eighteen.

HUNTER.

I don't think I've ever been so p.i.s.sed off in my life.

Em frustrated me so much I wanted to strangle her, maybe save our sniper the trouble. I was angry with myself, too, because I should've been able to control the f.u.c.king truck. Now instead of protecting my woman, I was stuck watching her crouch over me with a gun, ice building up in her hair as her lips turned blue.

All because I'd been captured by a f.u.c.king tree.

Another shot rang out, although this time it didn't hit the truck. At least that was something ... Although if I died tonight without protecting her, I hoped to h.e.l.l I'd find a way to come back and haunt Picnic Hayes. I'd use my ghostly powers to make him desecrate my useless f.u.c.king corpse.

More shots. Then shouting.

"Em!" I heard someone yell. She rose slightly.

"No," I said, voice cracking. "Stay down until they find the shooter. Just call out. Let them know we're okay, but under fire. Safer that way."

"We're safe!" she bellowed, so loud it hurt my ears. "The sniper hit the truck at least three times, so be really f.u.c.king careful. Also, I have a gun. Identify yourselves before coming too close, or I'll shoot you myself."

"Hang tight, kiddo," I heard a deep voice yell back. "We're comin' for you."

He sounded familiar ... Then I placed him. Duck. Old guy I'd met when I negotiated with the Reapers for Em's release.

"Do you think they'll be able to find him?" Em asked. Her teeth started chattering. s.h.i.t, at least I had my pine needle blanket ...

"No idea," I told her. "If he's smart, he's already taken off. He could stay out there and try picking them off, but weather like this sucks for everyone."

Then I noticed her hands had started trembling. From the cold or adrenaline-didn't matter which.

"I think you should set down the gun."

"Nope."

"Don't shoot me by accident, please."

Em looked down and smiled, still gorgeous despite the icicles building up in her hair. In the faint light from the dashboard, I could see that her lips were blue, her nose was red, and her shirt was soaked through. Not the best time for a wet T-shirt contest, but her t.i.ts looked outstanding.

"I promise," she said softly, biting her lip. "I will never shoot you by accident."

I considered her response.

"That's less comforting than you'd think."

Several more shots rang out, and then we heard a high-pitched, agonized scream.

"Holy s.h.i.t," Em whispered, smile gone. Her eyes were huge, and she brought the gun back up, finger moving to the trigger. Then someone shouted through the darkness. Someone close.

"Em, it's Painter."

Seriously? f.u.c.king Painter was going to rescue us?

And right there I had it-proof that G.o.d's a twisty b.a.s.t.a.r.d.

"Did you get him?" Em yelled back.

"We got one of them," Painter said. "No way to know if there's more. But we're searching. Prez says to get you out, take you back to the Armory while we look for a second sniper."

"We're going to need a chainsaw or something," she yelled. "Hunter's trapped."

"He alive?"

He sounded a little too cheerful when he asked the question.

"Yes, he's fine," she replied.

"I'm f.u.c.kin' great," I yelled out. "Get Em out of here!"

"Okay, I'm right by the truck now," Painter called back. "I'm gonna climb up and look inside. Put down your gun, Em."

Em lowered the gun, but I noticed she didn't let it go. She gave me a quick glance, offering a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes.

"What's that about?" I asked quietly.

"Painter isn't my dad," she replied. "He hasn't made any promises about your safety."

"You're going to hold a gun on Painter while he's trying to rescue you?"

"No, I'm going to protect my old man while he's stuck under a tree. Consider me your life insurance, babe. If I leave, Painter's got no reason to keep you alive and n.o.body to witness what he does to you. I'm staying put until my dad gets here."

The truck lurched and Painter leaned over the open pa.s.senger-side window, taking in the situation. First he gave Em a quick once-over, probably checking for blood or obvious wounds. Then his gaze turned to me, eyes predatory. I stared him down, wordlessly telling him that I saw right through his s.h.i.t. He gave me a chin lift, then turned his attention back to Em.

"Take my hand," Painter said, reaching toward her. "We'll get you to the Armory. Ruger can go back and grab the tools we'll need to cut out your boyfriend, but you need to get warm."

She shook her head.

"I want Dad."

"He's kind of busy right now."

"Nope," she said, lifting the gun from her side and balancing it carefully on her knee with both hands. She wasn't pointing it at anyone, but it wasn't the friendliest of stances, either. "I'm staying with my old man until Dad gets here."

Painter flinched. Heh.

I hated that c.o.c.ksucker. I really did.

"Will you please go get him?" Em asked, her voice like very polite granite. She might be scared as h.e.l.l, but she wasn't showing any weakness. "I'm not going anywhere without my dad."

"Screw this," Painter muttered, shaking his head. "I'll be back in a few. Enjoy the f.u.c.kin' cold while you wait, Em."

She relaxed visibly as he jumped down off the truck.

"You okay?" I asked. "I really wish you'd go with him."

Em rolled her eyes, waving off my concern with one bluish hand.

"No f.u.c.king way," she said. "I leave, you got no witnesses. Painter hates you. Ruger's not too fond of you, either, and he's the one with the chainsaw. Anyone decides to kill you, they'll be going through me first."

"Babe, I say this with all due respect. You scare the s.h.i.t out of me."

She reached down and touched my cheek, and I turned my head to kiss her fingers.

"Emmy, it's Dad," I heard Hayes call out. Then I felt the truck shift as he climbed up to look through the window. "Painter said you won't put down your gun and go to the Armory."

"Thank G.o.d," she said, her voice full of relief. She'd been closer to the edge than I realized. "I'm so glad you're here. I won't leave Hunter with anyone but you. But I'm really cold ... Not sure how much longer I can last out here."

I couldn't see his face well in the darkness, but I had a feeling I'd recognize the expression-the same mixture of love and frustration I'd seen in the mirror a hundred times since I'd met her.

"Emmy, n.o.body is going to hurt Hunter," the Reapers president said. "I gave my word."

"Would Mom have left you behind?" she asked, her voice a challenge.

He sighed heavily, then reached down to take her hand.

"Nope," he said. "That's why I wanted you with a Reaper, honey. We really can't afford not to have you on our side. You remind me more of her every day."

EM.

It felt good to be back in the Armory again. Better than I expected. Of course, it probably didn't hurt that I'd been met at the door by Dancer, Marie, Kit, and Maggs. Sophie was upstairs with the kids, who were constructing a mighty campsite in the game room on the second floor.

Horse had given me a ride home, stepping inside long enough to catch Marie and stick his cold hands on her stomach. She'd shrieked and swatted at him until he caught her close for a long, hard kiss. Then he'd headed back out into the rain, leaving me dripping in the center of the kitchen. Dancer wrapped a blanket around me, and Marie handed me a cup of hot coffee. I found myself shivering so hard my jaw hurt.

"So what the h.e.l.l happened?" Dancer asked, settling me on a stool. "The guys ran out of here like the world was ending."

"Someone shot out our tires," I told her. Wow, saying it out loud made it sound so ... insane. "Hunter was driving, and the truck started sliding on the ice. We went off the road. A tree pinned him inside the truck-he's still there-and I called for help. That's when whoever shot the tires started shooting at us."

The women all stared at me, eyes wide.

"That's some serious s.h.i.t," Kit said slowly. "But you're okay? And Hunter, too?"

I nodded.

"Yeah, but they'll have to cut him out."

Kit tapped her fingers against the counter nervously.

"Did you know a Devil's Jack has been seen around town?" she asked. "And I guess they spotted him earlier tonight, right after someone took potshots at Dancer and Bam Bam's house."

My eyes widened.

"They shot at your house?" I asked Dancer, stunned. "With the kids there?"