Page 2 of Max
“Law enforcement Ranger Max Steele, here to protect and serve. Why are you chasing the female?”
“She escaped, and we are trying to bring her back,” said the dark-haired bearded man.
“Since she was running away, I don’t think she wants to return. That makes me think I need to protect her freedom.”
“She stole that horse from the boss. We were trying to get it back.”
“Oh, but you said you were trying to takeherback.”
“Because she stole the horse…” the leader insisted.
Max frowned as he assessed each man. He was tempted to just kill them for lying. An ordinary human might have believed the leader, but his heart rate and blood pressure spike gave him away. More likely, they were some overlord’s thugs, and she either escaped the harem or they were traffickers.
“Who does the horse belong to?”
“Our boss, Thorne Driscoll.”
“Describe it.”
The apparent leader paused with a frown and thought for a moment. “I think it’s the big dark bay stud.”
“You can’t describe the horse, but you know she stole it?”
“I didn’t see her take it. The stable hand said it was that one.”
“Is there a brand or tattoo that identifies the owner?”
“There should be,” the other man hedged.
“I see.” Max lowered his rifle from his shoulder but still held it ready. Shooting them would leave a mess to clean up and require explanations. “Well, since I am the law enforcer here, I will go after the female and question her. I will examine the horse and determine who is the rightful owner.”
“We have our orders….” The beard protested.
“And I am the law enforcer. You will stand down, or I will put you down.”
“You think you can take us all on by yourself?”
“I know I can. Do you know what a cyborg is? I am a cyborg marine ranger. Your ordinary projectile weapons are only an annoyance. I could take you all down before you could do sufficient damage to stop me,” Max told them calmly. “You either stand down, or I will make you.”
The bearded man eyed Max, and his high-tech rifle casually pointed in their direction. Max waited.
“Have it your way. Let’s go, guys.” Bearded man turned his horse and urged it into a gallop, with his cronies following suit.
Max ran back to his cycle. Stowing his rifle in its sling, he jumped on and set off after the lone female. He found her sooner than expected, half a mile away.
Her horse lay on the ground, and she stood over it, holding a pistol pointed at its head in both hands, sobbing.
Max dropped his hovering craft to the ground with a thud and leaped off, running. “Wait! Don’t shoot!” he yelled.
Startled, the female whirled and pointed her pistol at him, her face streaked with tears. “Don’t come any closer!”
Max stopped, stunned, not by the gun pointed at him but by her scent. He put up his hands immediately. “Don’t shoot. I’m here to help,” he assured her in a deceivingly calm tone. Max was anything but.
This female was his genetic mate! How could this be? The first female he met in California, a place he didn’t really want to be.
He glanced at the horse and saw its front leg bent where it shouldn’t. Was she crying because the horse failed her or because it was hurt?
“I’m not here to hurt you. I am a law enforcer for this territory.” He had a deep, rich, masculine voice fitting for a man of his size and stature.
