Page 14 of Keeper of Talon Mountain
The big man pulls out what looks like a taser. Gabe doesn't back away. Instead, he steps closer, getting inside the weapon's range. When the man lunges forward to use it, Gabe grabs his wrist and twists. I hear the man scream even through the glass. The taser drops, and Gabe kicks it away before driving his fist into the man's kidney.
I press my face against the cold window, transfixed. Every movement Gabe makes is exact, efficient. He's not just defending himself—he's dismantling them systematically, like someone who's done this a hundred times before.
The first attacker, the one who'd been circling the SUV, tries to crawl away through the snow. Gabe lets him go for a moment, focused on the bigger threat, but when the man reaches for something in his jacket, Gabe is on him in two strides. Whatever the man was reaching for goes flying, and he doesn't get up again.
This is what Gabe was before he lost his memory. Not just military—something more specialized. More dangerous. The realization should terrify me. Instead, it makes me want to protect him even more fiercely. Because if he's this skilled, this lethal, what kind of people are hunting him? What did they do to him that left him beaten and broken in the snow?
The big man tries one last desperate attack, charging at Gabe with his good arm. Gabe sidesteps so smoothly it's like watching a dancer, then strikes the man's neck with the edge of his hand. The attacker drops like his strings have been cut.
Suddenly, the yard is silent except for the sound of Gabe's controlled breathing and the wind through the trees. I watch him scan the area, checking for additional threats, his posture still coiled and ready despite having just taken down three trained operatives.
When he turns and sees me in the window, his expression shifts from deadly focus to concern in an instant. The transformation is jarring—like watching a wolf turn back into a man.
I should stay inside. Lock the doors, wait for help, let him handle whatever this is. That would be the smart thing to do.
Instead, I grab the shotgun from the cabinet beside the back door.
My grandmother always said the best defense was making sure the other guy knew you weren't helpless. The gun is loaded—I keep it that way during the off-season when I'm alone—and I know how to use it. Derek made sure of that, though not in the way he intended.
I slip back outside, using the lodge's bulk to shield me from the yard. The cold air burns my lungs as I work my way around toward the front. When I reach the corner of the building, I can see everything.
"Mara…"
"Are there more of them?" I keep the gun trained on the men on the ground, though none of them look like they're getting up anytime soon.
"I don't think so." Gabe wipes blood from his cheek with the back of his hand. "But we should…"
The sound of a siren cuts through the mountain air, growing closer. Someone must have heard the commotion and called it in, or maybe Zeke got my message. Either way, help is coming.
"We need to get our stories straight," Gabe says, his voice urgent. "Before they get here."
"Our stories?" I lower the shotgun but don't put it down. "What story? Armed men attacked us on my property."
"It's not that simple." He runs a hand through his hair, leaving it standing up in dark spikes. "These guys... they're not random criminals. They came here specifically for me."
"I figured that out when he called you by name." I gesture toward the unconscious stranger with the barrel of the shotgun. "Who are they?"
"I don't know." The frustration in his voice is palpable. "But they know me. They know things about my past that I can't remember."
The siren is getting louder. In just moments, Zeke will be here, and I'll have to explain why there are three men scattered around my property like broken toys. But right now, all I can focus on is the way Gabe is looking at me—like he's seeing me clearly for the first time.
"You came outside," he says. "With a gun."
"They were trying to hurt you."
"You could have been killed."
"So could you." I meet his eyes steadily. "I don't abandon people I care about."
His face changes, goes softer somehow. "Mara...”
Zeke's SUV rounds the bend, lights flashing, and the moment breaks. Whatever Gabe was going to say gets swallowed by the arrival of Sheriff MacAllister. Nate Barrett climbs out of the passenger side, and I can see Caleb in the back seat. Zeke has his weapon drawn but lowers it when he takes in the scene.
"Mara, what the hell happened here?" he calls out.
"Three men attacked us," I respond, setting the shotgun down carefully. "They tried to take Gabe."
Zeke's gaze sweeps the scene—the downed attackers, Gabe standing over them with blood on his face, the shotgun I've set down nearby. His expression suggests he's rethinking everything he thought he knew about the quiet woman who runs the bed and breakfast.
