COLD BLOOD

Daniel O'Brien lifted his trembling hand to shade his eyes as he glimpsed the cloud of dust on the horizon. His blood chilled as a forbidding shiver crawled down his spine. His heart began to pound with dread as the men were separated from the dust.

It was time.

As the riders rode towards the small cabin, Daniel knew the instant they spotted him, for their harsh laughter drifted on the slight breeze that raffled his dark hair.

Silence followed as the dust settled.

His face devoid of emotion, Daniel met the leader's eyes.

"Where are they?" the leader said quietly, his eyes hard as he recognized the strength in the blue eyes meeting his.

Resolve and determination.

Daniel let his silence speak for him.

"What the hell makes you think I'd tell you where my wife and child are?" he finally answered, lifting a dark brow as his hard gaze swept the seven men.

Shit, he was dead, he thought bleakly, although no one would have guessed his miserable thoughts in his cold eyes.

The men shuffled uneasily as they avoided Daniel's stare.

The leader stared at him, his eyes hard as he realized that he wouldn't be get any answers from him, not that he had been actually expecting it, he thought, shrugging with a slight lift of his broad shoulders. His brows lowered dangerously as he lifted his hand to hover over his gun that he hadn't pulled from his holster, the powerful horse beneath him shifting slightly as he felt the tension of his rider.

"I don't know. Maybe seven guns pointed at your chest?" Black Jack said darkly, his lips stretched into a thin line as his anger grew. The bloody fool was supposed to be begging for his life, he thought angrily.

After a moment of silence, chuckles erupted from the other riders. His expression stony, Daniel stared at the filthy scum before him, letting his disgust show in the twist of his handsome features. "You're going to kill me either way and I'd rather die than hand my family to your filthy hands," he growled harshly.

Jack raised a brow, surprised at the other man's bluntness. After a few seconds, he nodded, respect beginning to show as his thin lips curved into a small smile. "I just thought you'd like to make my job easier, Daniel," he answered sarcastically, his tone speaking of a familiarity that didn't exist between the two men.

Daniel shook his dark head. "Not likely, you son of a bitch," he answered mildly, all the while his heart pounding furiously against his ribs as he fought the terror that griped him.

Jack sighed. "Wishful thinking," he muttered, a dark scowl lining his tanned face. He gave a small nod of acceptance and backed up, drawing his pistol from his holster. His blue eyes reflecting cold ice of steel, he stared at the proud figure. We'll find them; his eyes seemed to say. And then we'll kill them. He raised his gun, a click of the barrel echoing in the still silence as he pointed the deadly weapon towards his target.

Daniel felt his heart catch as his wild eyes searched the rough horizon of isolated desert for his family. Run, my darling, he wanted to scream. Please leave before you see this. But he could feel her anguish bore into him and knew that she was nearby. Run as far as you can with our daughter. Protect her. I love you both. I hope you know that.

Suddenly, or not so sudden, a crack split the air, pain exploding throughout his body as his world faded. As the ground met his crumpled form, he thought he heard her anguished answer in the sudden breeze and knew with a certainty that she had heard his cry of love.

THE END.