McLeod, Anitra Lynn - Dirty Cowboy (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

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Authors: McLeod-Anitra-Lynn
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pulled”—he pointed his gun at Dalton—“caused my companions to leave me, which cost me my livelihood. So I’ve been staying at that Podunk town.” Using the gun, he pointed over his shoulder in the general direction of the town. “I’ve been coming out here everyday so I could thank you boys right proper.” He spat another giant wad into the dust and Everett caught a strong stench of whisky. “For what you did to me, I’m going to take everything you have, including your lives.”
    Before Dalton could shift, the man lifted and emptied his gun. The shots were so loud it was as if someone had clapped his ears. Blood splattered up from Dalton’s chest, and Everett tried to reach out to help him, but his arms wouldn’t work right.
    Baffled, Everett looked to the spot right over his heart. A huge, red-rimmed hole decorated the front of his shirt and burrowed right into his chest. Marveling that there was no pain, Everett just sat staring at his chest. There was no pain at all. He was going to die, and it wasn’t going to hurt. But then he looked at Dalton. All the things they’d never get to do, the words they’d never get to say, the fun they’d never get to have—that squeezed his heart hard. That’s what hurt. Everett toppled forward out of the wagon seat. He would have fallen into the rigging, but he grasped the edge and landed on the side.
    When he looked up, he saw Dalton flying out of the wagon seat. He landed on the ground beside him. A look of horror ate up the beauty of Dalton’s face as he considered Everett’s wounds while completely ignoring his own. Shortly thereafter fury twisted Dalton’s features into something truly demonic. This time Dalton didn’t bother to take off his clothes. The garments ripped off him as he transformed.
    Whatever glee Everett felt at watching Dalton twirl after the gunman was lost when Everett realized his life was slipping away. Red rivers poured off his body to make little lakes in the dust. The longer he watched, the more the gray crushed in around his vision. His only regret was that he hadn’t told Dalton he loved him.
    With the expertise of a man cutting a steer from the herd, dust devil Dalton plucked the gunman from his horse, lifted him into the air, then threw him down to the ground. His mount bolted toward town unhurt, but the man would not be so lucky. Over and again Dalton picked him up and slammed him down until his body gave with the floppiness of a wet rope. Only then did Dalton stop.
    Shrinking down into a cone about the length of Everett’s hand, Dalton whisked over to where Everett lay.
    “I just wanted to say that I love you. Never told a soul that. I don’t even know if you can understand me.”
    Dalton spun up his arm, which tickled despite the pain. As he traced over his chest, Everett breathed in the dust that Dalton kicked up. He wondered if he was breathing in bits of Dalton. He thought that if he was, that was a good thing, so he would take a bit of Dalton with him wherever he went in the great beyond. When he coughed, blood and air burbled out the holes in his chest. Settling right over the topmost hole, Dalton spun faster and faster until blood was lifted up into his inverted cone.
    Baffled, a few breaths from death, Everett wasn’t sure what Dalton was trying to do. Kiss him good-bye, maybe, or get as close as he could to try to hold him in the only way a dust devil could. When Everett felt Dalton twirling down into his chest, he wanted to scream with the pain, but nothing came out. The deeper Dalton went, the smaller his cone became. When Dalton was gone, darkness swept over Everett’s eyes.

Chapter Twelve

    There was a long time of not knowing where he was or even what he was. Everett was formless and free, racing along the hot surface of the prairie. All he knew was pure sensation with no demands from his body. No hunger, no thirst, no pain. There was pleasure, though, once he discovered the other dust devil.
    Everett had

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