 
SCARLET FEVER

J. DAWN LIGHT

Copyright © 2012 Jessica D. Lightfoot

Smashwords Edition

Prologue

Throughout time, there have always been secret societies. And like everything else in an imperfect world, there are good ones and there are bad ones. Ones for inconsequential facts of life made only for those who just want to belong to _something_ , and those of far more importance.

Whether you call them, sororities, fraternities, clubs, gangs, the mob, etcetera. They all have one fundamental element. Some people belong, some people do not. You must possess certain traits or be born into certain families to become a member. You must uphold certain rules or be important enough to live above the rules.

So, what if there was a society of men and women possessing skills either acquired through training or great intelligence, or completely unexplainable in their origin, that allowed them to fight the evils of this world?

What if the tools they used to pursue justice, were either natural, supernatural, or anachronisms, in that they were invented, developed and put into use far before the world outside of the society would be ready to accept.

Would the world be a better place if _this_ society didn't have to follow the rules of government? If they could pursue the guilty without worrying about the rights of murderers? Rapists? Terrorists?

Chapter One

May 1861

The soft summer breeze blew a raven lock across the face of The Scarlet Angel, as she crouched on the balls of her feet on the edge of the roof of the only saloon and whorehouse in town. The tress momentarily tangled in the deep red mask covering her face. It would have blocked her vision had she not had her eyes closed, using only her ears, as she listened for the noises that warranted the need for her particular skills.

The City of Riverbridge, California, a little town thrown together less than fifteen years ago, was better off because of her presence, or at least the women were. The men were better _men_ because of her presence, or at least they had better be.

The Saloon doors opened and the sound of piano music and boisterous laughing filled the air, causing a wave of nostalgia to compress her chest. It was always like that. The sounds and smells of the saloon reminded her of her mother, of a time when her mother was still alive, of a time when getting a hug when things weren't quite right only required that she ask for one.

Joanne Wilkes had been a lady of the very saloon Scarlet was perched on. She had of course been a whore and therefore one of the least respected individuals in town, but a person's worth shouldn't be calculated by their profession, only by their heart, and her mother's heart was the kindest of all Scarlet had encountered.

She was pure and innocent in spirit where she was not in body, and she never failed to meet the needs of those she could help, especially her daughter. Whore or not, she had made sure her child was fed, clothed, educated, and of course loved. Loved beyond reason. Her daughter had been everything to her, and Joanne proved it in all she did.

Her warm hugs and kind green eyes were shared with everyone. Her big perfect smile captivated every eye within its reach. She was beloved by anyone who took the time to know her, and she was even kind to those who didn't, to those who treated her like the whore she was.

She was by far the most beautiful of all the whores and therefore the most requested. There hadn't been a man to walk in the saloon who hadn't been completely drawn to her chocolate brown hair, clear bright green eyes, and perfect porcelain skin.

Though she was a whore, she had been everything a child could hope for in a mother. She had been everything a person could hope for in a fellow human being, and her soul was a soothing balm of calm and purity, which was important to someone with September's rather "special" talents.

As a reader of souls, it was hard to not be effected by the evils in the world. Dark souls always tasted and smelled so foul, but her mother's had always washed that taint away, making everyday bearable.

But, as most good things come to an end long before anyone is ready, Joanne was taken from her daughter and her friends over five years ago.

Seventeen years of her mother's love and companionship never seemed like enough, but Scarlet had many, many good memories, and she spent every opportunity she could spare in her head, thinking of the wonderful woman who had birthed and raised her.

Unfortunately, every time she thought of Joanne, the memories always lead her to that night five years ago. The night that took an innocent seventeen-year-old girl, and turned her into an avenging angel. The Scarlet Angel.

She would never forget the terror she had felt engulf her mother's soul that night. Even from down the street, it had managed to nearly suffocate that girl she had been. Nor would she ever be able to forget the sight of the blood that covered almost every surface when her feet hadn't been fast enough to carry her that distance to save her mother from being butchered. It was ingrained in her memory with gut-wrenching detail.

The evil stench of the soul that had been in that room with her mother had been so putrid, it had stayed in the back of her nose weeks after her mother's death.

He had disappeared out of the window while Scarlet took in the scene, and for many moments, she had been unable to make her mouth work to tell the men who filed in behind her, where he had gone.

By the time her brain had kicked on, the raping, murdering bastard had been long gone. And what killed Scarlet the most was that he was still free, possibly killing others, and that was something that she loathed to consider.

As a tear rolled from her eye, under her mask and down her cheek, Scarlet sucked in a deep breath, centering herself, trying to lock down on the memories that threatened to bury her in a suffocating mound of despair and self-hatred.

It was with her mind firmly in the present, that she realized she wasn't alone on the roof. The pleasant little bumps popping up on every exposed inch of her flesh, and the lure of his soul to hers, told her exactly who had joined her on top of the saloon.

"Hello Marshall. She said without even turning. She didn't need to. There was only one person who caused her skin to prickle deliciously, and he was the breathtakingly handsome Marshal Tomlin Ripley.

So far, Ripley had been far more competent when compared with any of the marshals that came before him. Already, in the month he had been a member of the Riverbridge community, he had run out most of the lowlife thieves that had been plaguing their little town.

Scarlet had met him shortly after he arrived, as September Wilkes, the name her mother had given her at birth. He had looked her over with those amazing aqua colored eyes and she had nearly fainted on the spot. Never in her life had she been so instantaneously attracted to a man. Never had she felt that hum of awareness that was present every time he was near. Never had she felt the lure of another's soul.

It was almost as if she could touch it, and the urge had been so strong, she had caught herself reaching for the man.

"You must be The Scarlet Angel." The deep temper of his voice vibrated through her body, and her breasts tightened. Just like that. He only need say a few words and her body was reacting to him as a match dropped on kerosene.

Her lips parted, her eyes slid closed, and she struggled to regain control of her body. Easier said than done, but eventually she forced herself to stand, and very slowly, she turned to meet his gaze. "Please, call me Scarlet." She said, careful to change her voice enough that he wouldn't recognize it.

As his eyes had done the first time she had seen him, they again traveled the length of her body, slowly taking in every inch. Lingering on all the places she could feel him the most, on all the places she _wanted_ to feel him the most.

She hoped he couldn't see the warm flush of arousal as it spread across her chest, up her neck and over her cheeks.

Scarlet felt the urge to cover herself, which was ludicrous considering how often she patrolled the City of Riverbridge in the very outfit she now had on. Black, tight fitting men's pants tucked into lace-up boots the same color, and a deep-red vest – no shirt – that dipped low between her breasts and didn't quite reach her navel at the bottom. It was the red of the vest and the mask that had inspired the town's people to give her her name.

The Marshal's breathing seemed to accelerate rapidly. "Well, Miss...Scarlet." He panted while bending slightly at the waist, like he had been running fast and hard and long.

_Oh God._ Fast, hard and long were not words she should be thinking about in his presence. How was a girl supposed to concentrate on her mission if she insisted on being a lure to every sense she possessed?

He too was wearing black pants, only slightly looser than hers, and a man had never filled them out so cleverly. Every inch of his long, powerful legs were showcased to the point of threatening her life with the bursting of her suddenly overworked heart. His button up shirt was loose at the collar, revealing his throat and a good portion of his chest. And again, she was surprised at how explosively her body reacted to him.

As she watched that exposed skin at his chest, she noticed his breathing seemed to get worse and worse. "Are you okay Marshal?" She was aware of the concern that colored her words, but it couldn't be helped. She had no desire for the heart-stopping lawman to die right here on the very roof she spent so much of her time.

He threw a halting hand in the air before she could move closer. "Fine."

"Should I take you to the town doctor?"

Ripley shook his head and with great effort, forced himself to breath normally. "I'm fine." After a few more breaths, he seemed to have himself completely under control, and his blue-green eyes moved over her body once more, and settled on her mask. "What are you doing up here Miss Scarlet?"

She frowned. "Just Scarlet. And I am making sure that the naughty little boys of this town are treating the ladies with respect."

He frowned as well. "By ladies, you actually mean the whores." It wasn't a question, he had already decided – probably by the way she was dressed – that she was only concerned with the welfare of the ladies who were paid for their intimate services.

"No Marshal." She said, her tone conveying her aggravation at his obvious accusation. "I actually mean the human beings that are missing a certain appendage between their legs." She eyed the area between his legs pointedly. "In my opinion there is a link between that extra skin and idiocy."

She tried to meet his eyes, but she couldn't seem to pull her focus away from the bulge at the front of his pants. It seemed to be slightly bulgier than most, and the longer she watched it, the bulgier it became. _Oh God, he has an erection!_ An ever-growing one from the looks of it.

"Hmm...could be." He said with a slightly husky voice. "I'm afraid though that it is not your job to keep the people of Riverbridge safe."

It wasn't until he cleared his throat, that she was able to return her focus to his eyes – amused as they were \- but by that time, she had no doubt the man was packing in a major way, and her bodies response was to ready itself for him. Hot moisture pulled between her legs, and the desperate urge to rub them together nearly had her moaning.

"Whose is it then? Yours?" Was that her voice? She was practically panting. "And when _you_ say people, do you mean the respectable ladies and gentlemen of the town, or do you actually extend that meaning to include _whores_?"

She knew Ripley was a good man, and though he never used their services, he had always been nothing but nice to the ladies of the saloon, but her response to him was _really_ starting to bother her and she couldn't help but bait the man.

Unfortunately, the marshal didn't seem to want to fight. He smiled. "I mean the human beings who both have those idiocy inducing appendages, _and_ those who don't. _All_ of them."

_Oh what a smile._ Could the man be anymore perfect?

"Then it seems I'll let you stay in town...for now." She said, forcing herself to sound friendly, but not horny, which she absolutely was.

"I believe Miss Scarlet, that you are about to take those words back." He sighed, obviously completely back in control of his breathing, and stepped forward. "I'm going to have to take you in. I can't allow a vigilante to roam the streets of Riverbridge maiming innocent men."

A female scream cracked through the air, and both Scarlet and the marshal's heads whipped in the direction it had come from.

Scarlet's eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. "I'm betting _that_ was not caused by the _innocence_ of a man." She said, keeping her voice pleasant, even though anger coiled hard in her stomach. "More likely, he's allowing his appendage to do the thinking for him just now, and it isn't making very good choices. Rain check?"

Then with a flip of a small lever on her shoulder, the gliding apparatus she constructed herself, sprang from the small pocket she had secured to her back by straps around each arm, and she jumped off the roof.

"Damn it!" Tomlin yelled, as he watched the scarlet clad beauty sore out of sight.

He ran to the edge of the roof and looked down at the cloth awning below. This was going to hurt, but at least he wasn't still breathless.

He had nearly hyperventilated for God's sake. One look at that curvy little body of hers, and he had been hard as a rock and close to respiratory failure, which was exactly the reaction he always seemed to have to the sweet little September Wilkes.

If the idea wasn't completely insane, he might have thought the two women were actually just _one woman_ , but as far as he could tell, the only thing they had in common was that silky looking black hair.

Well, in all honesty, he didn't exactly have enough features to compare. September's clear green eyes were an attribute he would know anywhere, but with the shadows of the mask, he was unable to see color or shape of the eyes of the Scarlet Angel. Scarlet's pale, smooth skin and the wondrous curves of her body were unforgettable as well, but September was always wearing dresses that covered her from neck to toe, and though her skin was as flawlessly beautiful as Scarlet's, it was hard to say with the little amount he saw on a regular basis, that it was the same skin.

Truly, he supposed September and Scarlet could be the same woman, but where Scarlet was bold and perhaps a little mean, September was shy and sweet. Her cheeks had been the most beautiful shade of red as Mayor Daniel Jones had introduced them. That probably had something to do with the way he had continued to stare at her throughout the conversation.

Ever since then, he had been unintentionally watching her as she went about her many jobs throughout the day. No matter how many times he told himself not to look for her as she crossed the street from the Baker's store where she delivered supplies, to Old Red's tailor shop, where she helped with the sewing, his eyes continued to follow her. And it never failed, she would drop something in the middle of the street and have to bend to pick it up, and Tomlin's cock would take notice, immediately standing at attention. Add to that his ridiculous breathing oddities, and you have yourself a mess in the shape of a marshal.

If the sweet girl didn't blush red every time they made eye contact, he would swear, she was being intentionally clumsy, dropping something just so he would have the pleasure of watching as she bent to pick it up.

But September was far too shy and innocent to do such a thing, and her sweet ways just made the notion that she could be the Scarlet Angel that much more ridiculous.

The woman worked harder than anyone he had ever seen during the day. There was no way she could also be running around defending women at night. And little September probably couldn't even kill a spider, much less a fellow human being.

It was odd though, until five minutes ago, he had considered his reaction to September to be something unique, but now that he reacted the same way to Scarlet, he had to consider that he might have some kind of respiratory problem. Maybe he should have let her take him to the doctor. He could have hung all over her then.

Tomlin gauged the distance to the awning one more time. If he wanted to catch Scarlet tonight, he couldn't waste any more time.

With a deep breath and a silent prayer, he threw himself over the edge of the building, hitting the cloth hard and rolling out of it. His body hit the ground with surprising force considering he had landed in the awning first, and every ounce of air in his body left in a gush.

He could do nothing but lie there trying to catch his breath for several seconds. When he was finally able to breathe and he thought he could stand without collapsing, he forced himself to get up and stumble in the direction of the scream.

It wasn't long before he found her. She was standing over a fat bald man who was bleeding profusely from both nostrils, and in the corner several feet away, a young woman was cowering in a tight ball, staring in terrified wonder at the beautiful woman in red.

"Scarlet." Tomlin said in warning.

She didn't turn to face him, but he could hear the smile in her voice, and he knew it was slightly wicked. "I'm sorry Marshal. I'm really pressed for time at the moment. This man's fingernails are in desperate need of being pulled from his fingers."

"Don't let her do this Marshal. She is going to kill me." The man whined from the ground.

When he focused on the bloody bald head that was pleading with him, Tomlin realized under all the blood, there were tears streaking his pudgy face. It was amazing that a man, who had obviously been caught in the act of trying to defile a young girl, could be so terrified of the tiny beauty standing over him.

Tomlin had to work extra hard to keep the laughter out of his voice and off his face. "Let him go Scarlet."

Eyes, the color of which he couldn't make out because of the shadows cast by the mask, were focused on him over a smooth and mostly bared shoulder.

"Why?" She demanded, cuttingly. "So tomorrow night he can be out here hurting more young women?" Tomlin was able to keep his small laugh to himself as he watched Scarlet kick the bastard. She wasn't as calm and levelheaded as she had been earlier.

Scarlet looked over at the girl who was huddled in the corner. "Sarah Stanley, this is Marshal Tomlin Ripley." She pointed in his direction without even looking at him. "Marshal this is Sarah. She is seventeen years old, and aside from her terrible judgment in venturing out at this time of night, she is a good kid who helps take care of her very ill mother."

He watched the face of the young girl pucker in sadness. Her mother must be very ill indeed.

Before he could even consider asking, Scarlet kicked the bald man in front of her again. "And this serpent is John Williams, Riverbridge's not-so-harmless drunk, who, when he's not beating his wife and two children nearly to death, is prowling the streets looking for some action where it's not wanted. This isn't the first time we have found ourselves in this particular position, is it John?"

Scarlet turned slightly so she could look at Tomlin, and though the light was better in the alley than it had been on the roof, he still couldn't see her eyes, but as they continued to watch each other, her cheeks slowly became a beautiful rosy color that reminded him of September.

Again, he found himself questioning the similarities in his response to the two women. In addition to the blushing, he was again struggling with his breathing.

Could this interesting woman with mechanics people had no business possessing outside of the secret society he was a part of, be the same girl who spent every waking hour of the day working tirelessly throughout the town?

It still seemed unlikely.

He studied her face trying to get a better look at the exposed skin, but she turned and leaned down to John, giving Tomlin plenty to ogle as she did. "Are you too cheap to buy it from the whores like everyone else – not that I would wish you on any of those lovely ladies – or do you just enjoy taking what you want from those who are weaker than you?"

He heard what she was saying, but he was having a hard time deciphering the meaning. The way she was bending over in front of him like that, was causing his body to heat and his breathing became even more erratic. He had never enjoyed men's pants in such a way before.

She looked back at him over her shoulder with that shapely backside pointed straight at him, and the problem he had been having with his breathing became a non-issue as it stopped altogether.

She smiled. "I'm betting on the latter, but either way he's not a man. So when I hang him by his cock in the square, I won't be committing a crime against humanity."

It was her use of the word cock that finally brought him out of his stare-off with her beautiful bottom. For a quick moment, he thought she was commenting on the state of the front of his pants, but as the words ran through his head, he gave a short snort of laughter.

"While I actually agree that he completely deserves... _that_ , I cannot allow it. My job is to protect the people of this town from harm."

"Well, let me put your mind at ease." She said cheerfully. "I only hurt the sub-humans who live here."

From her little corner, the tiny, whispered voice of Sarah Stanley floated to them. "Uh...if you uh...don't mind, I really should be getting home."

He watched in shock as the face beneath the mask softened tremendously. "Of course. Just maybe don't come out so late anymore?" She sounded like a concerned mother. Even though she couldn't be more than three or four years older than Sarah, the kindness in her voice made her sound ancient.

Sarah nodded and jumped up, practically running as she left them behind to handle the man who probably would have forced himself on her, had Scarlet not made it in time.

"Don't let her innocence fool you. She was sneaking around with her boyfriend." John's shaking voice brought Scarlet's head back around in the man's direction.

Tomlin stepped forward. There was no doubt she was about to cause serious damage to the disgusting moron at her feet. Her fists were clenched in tight balls at her sides and her shoulders were stiff. He came around from behind her, coming within feet of her, as he took in the creased brow and hard purse of her lips. She was pissed.

"Oh, so you thought you'd slip a little in as well huh?" She had leaned down to him again, and her voice was barely over a whisper. "And I seriously doubt I'm wrong when I say _little_."

Apparently, John's stupidity was making him brave. "You couldn't handle me bitch!" He snapped.

Tomlin smacked the man in the back of the head. "Don't talk to her like that!" His sudden show of anger was surprising, it wasn't every day that his temper rose and burst forth so quickly.

Scarlet gave Tomlin a small smile before she lowered herself further and placed her face inches away from John's. "I could be wrong, but I seriously doubt you want me handling you at all." Her voice was soft, but there was no missing the threat there. "Or did you forget what I want to do with your...not-so-goods?"

John's earlier burst of bravery evaporated. "Do you hear her threatening me?" He whined, panicked. "How can you take her side Marshal? She's a criminal!"

Tomlin shrugged. "An idiot shouldn't throw stones...or something like that."

Scarlet's smile did things to his groin. "Marshal! I do believe I might just be getting a little crush on you." Yeah, well, he wanted to fuck her brains out. That was close right?

He cleared his throat. "Don't be too hasty. I'm still taking you to jail."

The smile didn't leave her face, in fact it grew. She continued to watch Tomlin, but her words were for the disgusting man in front of her. "Now, you listen closely John. The next time I catch you touching a woman – and yes, that includes your wife – in a way I deem inappropriate, I will take away the heart of your problem." She pressed a knife Tomlin hadn't even seen her pull out, into the flesh high on John's thigh. Just in case, he didn't understand her meaning. "Do you want to have to pee sitting down?"

When the man shook his head violently, but was smart enough to keep his mouth firmly closed, she stood. Her body was graceful and perfect, and when she turned to look up into Tomlin's eyes, he saw a flash of green, and then she ran a few quick steps up the alley.

Tomlin jerked to attention and raced after her. "Stop Scarlet! You're coming with me!"

She gave a short laugh as a metal cable with a hook at the end, shot from the pack she wore on her back and lodged itself with a loud scrape, into the stone of the building behind her. "Sounds fun! Unfortunately tonight isn't good for me." And then she ran up the wall while the metal cord thing was wound back into the pack by some kind of spindle that was attached to gears.

When she was over the edge of the roof, she looked down and blew him a kiss. "Bye Marshal." And then she was gone.

Chapter Two

September sat at the back table in Red's shop, readying a pair of pants for a few quick runs through the sewing machine.

The old man still had no idea where the machine had come from, and she had no intention of enlightening him either.

He had expressed his need for a machine one day when they were working on a particularly large man's pants, but he knew he wouldn't be able to afford one. Fortunately, he had mentioned his troubles to the right person, even if he didn't know it. September had managed to get all the parts she needed and put one together in less than a month.

Red had acted like an excited child with a brand new toy for months. Babying that machine like it would break with the slightest misuse.

When she was done with one seam, she moved to the next. All of Mayor Jones' pants had had to be let out. Apparently, the new cook he had gotten was good at her job. His cranky wife was even gaining some extra pounds in her rear.

That was one couple even September couldn't get along with. Mrs. Jones was almost scornful when she spoke to the girl she saw as only a whores daughter, and Daniel Jones just plain gave her the creeps. His soul had always been a strange read.

When she was little, she had never wanted to be around the man. Had even gotten to the point of running in the other direction when he came near her. That had worried her mother.

The mayor had always been a clean cut, well mannered man, and Joanne had thought it strange that her child would be scared of a man like that, but sometimes the discontentment, and at times wrongness of his soul, was more than she could handle.

As time passed, her unease around him grew more pronounced as he often read happy and content with his new role as the mayor one day, and agitated if not downright evil the next.

Eventually, whatever had been tainting his soul with blackness had disappeared altogether, but she could never seem to shake that feeling in his presence.

"Did you hear about the murder last night?" An over exerted and panting Red asked as he entered the sewing room.

September froze with her hands hovering over the machine in front of her. "What murder?"

Red took a breath, clearly trying to control himself. "Widow Grayson. She was found this morning in her room by her maid." He ran a shaking hand through his orange and grey hair. Obviously, the sometimes-eccentric shopkeeper was worked up. That really wasn't out of the ordinary, but his words had left September feeling a little cold.

"Do they know when it happened?" She whispered somehow loosing the ability to speak aloud. She was horrified at the thought running through her head.

What if while she was so busy showing off for the marshal, poor Katie was being killed? IF she had gone about her night, taking care of John without trying to prove to Ripley how strong and capable she was, would she have heard the screams? Could she have stopped the very thing she had spent so much time training herself to prevent?

Red didn't stop his nervous pacing. "Just that it happened sometime last night. Marshal Ripley has been out there all morning trying to get some information. He's already doing more than the last marshal did in the whole year he was here." He was rambling, but his words really were true.

The marshal before Tomlin Ripley had been uncaring about anything and had never once tried to do anything about John Williams when he had nearly killed his wife with his bare knuckles.

September smiled politely. "Do you know anything else about what happened?"

Red suddenly snapped out of his dazed pacing. His eyes focused on her. "No, but really I shouldn't even be talking to you about this. Sweet young ladies shouldn't be burdened with the horrors of the world."

Oh what she wouldn't give for the pacing, speaking-without-thinking man who had walked in moments ago.

She sighed. She wouldn't be getting any more details from this man. "You're right Red. I really shouldn't be asking questions about these things."

September worked the next two hours in a daze. She should have prevented this. That's what her purpose as the Scarlet Angel _was_ , to watch out for the women of the town.

She needed to get her hands on the report that the marshal – so much better that the marshals before him – no doubt wrote. Then tonight when the sun set she would go to the widow's house and see if she couldn't figure out what happened.

"I wonder if the jailhouse still needs somebody to clean up."

Tomlin sighed and threw his pad and pencil on the desk. His irritation was only overshadowed by his disgust.

What type of man raped - at least he assumed she was raped, it was hard to tell with all the gore - and then cut out a females insides? A _Widow_?

Katelyn Grayson had seen despair already. She had only been twenty-two when she lost her husband. The whole town seemed to help care for the woman who had - until last night - still been lost in her grief.

His ability to read shadows of events that happened in a room or area he was in, hadn't given him anymore information than he would be able to get b using his eyes.

Even when he saw parts of the scene play out in front of him as he stood in the bloodied bedroom, he had never seen a face. He just knew by the build it was definitely a man. And because the scene was from the night before, he could only catch bits and pieces of the entire thing.

If he hadn't been so preoccupied with Scarlet, he might have been able to stop this, or at the very least showed up in time to get all of what happened, and maybe even a face.

"Fuck." He yelled as he threw his chair backwards until it skidded across the floor where it nearly too out skirted legs.

Fortunately those legs were fast, and one shot out quickly enough to stop the chair with the bottom of a boot, which in turn, flashed him a very shapely calf.

He fallowed the skirt up to a tiny waist and then further to rounded, but very well hidden breasts, and due to the sudden change in his breathing, he knew exactly whose face would be on top of the long, smooth neck.

Yet, when he focused on those beautifully slanted green eyes, he nearly stumbled backward from the impact of her beauty. "Miss September! What are you doing here?"

Her face was a very becoming shade of red, and he almost felt guilty about his cussing. Except, he knew what she did at night.

She tried to speak, but no sound emerged from her lips. Her full, beautiful, completely suck-able lips. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I now clean the jailhouse."

"Oh." That was a good way for her to get the information she wanted, especially if he left it out where she could find it. "Well don't get too close to those bars. I don't want any of those men getting their hands on you. And let me or one of my men get the laundry out of the cells for you."

He knew it was ridiculous to be so worried about her. There was no doubt in his mind she could take care of herself with any of these men, but she would probably allow herself to get hurt to keep her identity a secret.

How nobody had put two and two together yet, was amazing to him. But then again, there probably wasn't anyone who was so amazingly aware of her. Add to that his necessity – as Legion 2, which was the second tier in leadership of the Red Knights – to have exemplary observation skills, and it would have been nearly imposable to miss the signs that linked September Wilkes and the Scarlet Angel. Even if he had fought the notion so hard in the beginning.

September smiled sweetly. "Don't worry Marshal. I'll be careful." The idea of his men doing something they thought she couldn't was probably eating her from the inside out, but she kept her mask firmly in place. "Did you find anything at Widow Grayson's house?"

"I see news has already spread all over town." He walked toward her to pick up the chair that she still had a booted foot propped on.

He wondered if she even realized that most women would back up a few paces as he neared. September just watched him, her eyes fixed on his until he was less than a foot in front of her.

"Did you really expect it to be kept a secret?" She asked, only moving her leg when he bent to lift the chair. Then as if she realized her words were far less September Wilkes and more Scarlet Angel, she added sweetly, "I mean, it's a small town. Anything you want to know usually reaches you before you even realize you want to know it."

Tomlin managed to keep the smile off his face, but just barely. "Yes. Everything but who the Scarlet Angel is."

Her eyes narrowed briefly. Without taking them off Tomlin, she asked, "Is that John Williams?" She tilted her head in the direction of the cell Tomlin had thrown a bloody and sobbing John Williams the night before.

He did smile then. "Yes." He said simply. And then his voice changed, dropping to a deeper purr. "I had a _very_ interesting encounter last night."

Her smile was smug. "Oh really? Did you visit the saloon?" It was the waggle in her eyebrows that made it clear what kind of encounter she was implying that he had. Again, her real personality was showing, and he was shocked anew that nobody had noticed the spark in her.

He personally found her absolutely fascinating.

Tomlin had already decided not to put the little beauty in jail. After witnessing how she had been with John Williams the night before, he knew she wasn't some psychotic sociopath with a god complex, but was instead the only _real_ protection this town had had before his presence.

"No, I met the Scarlet Angel." He said, trying to hide any interest he might display.

"Wow! That _is_ interesting. I hear she's quite beautiful." Did she even realize she had cocked her hip to the side and settled a hand there? Far too sexy and sassy for September Wilkes... well, the September Wilkes she showed the world.

"I'm sure _she_ thinks so." Who knew bating this woman would be so incredibly fun. "I was more interested in her technology. I've only seen gadgets like hers in the hands of well-trained _men_. I worry that a tiny little thing like her might get hurt."

Her eyes widened then narrowed and an angry flush colored her face and ears. Her nostrils flared and her lips compressed. In all she was the most beautiful angry woman he had ever seen.

"Sometimes a woman must do what a man can't." She was every inch the Scarlet Angel standing in front of him, no trace of sweet September.

His enjoyment of her reactions was far more than any man should experience. "Sometimes men must do what women shouldn't."

For a moment, he was sure she was going to attack him, and he imagined all the interesting ways that situation could end.

But, in the end, she took a few deep, calming breaths. "You know Marshal. You are exactly right." Her Sweet smile almost reached her eyes. "I'm so sorry for the way I just acted. Please forgive me."

"Of course Miss September."

Again, she left him stunned and considerably aroused, but he was confident he would see her again. And this time he was going to be prepared. Marshal Tomlin Ripley was going to catch himself a Scarlet Angel.

Scarlet landed gracefully behind the widow's house and retracted her glider into its pocket on her utilities bag on her back.

Taking the cork out of the two thin glass tubes in another pocket, she poured one into the other and re-corked them. It was a concoction she had accidentally stumbled upon while working in her lab. She shook the tube containing the combined liquids, and the formula started to glow and then slowly grew brighter until the light was bright enough to cast shadows. She tucked it into a loop in her gun belt so her hands could be free.

"Much better than a lantern." She said proudly.

"I agree." The voice that came from behind her was deep and familiar.

She spun, but before she could lift a foot to sweep his legs out from under him, he was there with his arms wrapped around her, pinning hers to her sides.

How had she not sensed him? At the very least she should have felt the pull of his soul, but then again, she had been feeling that particular feeling even when he wasn't around with every new encounter they had.

"I thought you might come tonight." He said through breaths that were far from what one might consider normal breathing.

She tried to wiggle but her barely-there clothing had her bare skin soaking in the warmth of his body. Her nipples pearled into tight buds immediately, and as her breathing had also become erratic, the material of her vest sent pleasurable tingles through her body.

"I thought I'd lend a hand since you weren't making much progress." Her attempt at arrogant humor ended up sounding breathy, but as many times as she imagined being in his arms, reality was a thousand times better.

He smelled clean, like soap and cut cedar. She barely held herself back from leaning in and running her nose along his jawbone. She wanted to breathe as much of him in as possible, and fill her lungs with his unbelievable scent.

When his breathing only seemed to be getting worse, she again found herself concerned with his health. "Are you sure you don't need to see a doctor?"

He chuckled, and his hard body vibrated against hers. "No. I am beginning to understand the problem with that."

She was lost. The man's laugh and the humor in his beautiful aqua colored eyes had her mesmerized. "What would that be?" She whispered.

When he leaned further into her, pressing his lower body against hers, she could not mistake the erection that pressed against her stomach. "Oh!"

Ripley was smiling, but his eyes were intense. "Yes. I know. Strange isn't it?"

Strange wasn't the word she would use. Completely arousing was more like it. "Um... Where is the scene?" Her words were whispered and her nipples were so tight, she would be surprised if he couldn't feel them stabbing him in the chest. She was beyond wet, and the pounding tingle between her legs was starting to become insistent.

The marshal seemed to be gaining control of his breathing, or at least he didn't look like he was on the verge of hyperventilating, but his erection was still hard and unrelenting against her stomach. "You really don't want to see that." He said with an almost normal breathing pattern. "Your feminine eyes are so delicate."

And that did it.

She had put up with his females-are-weaker bullshit when she was the sweet September Wilkes, but as the Scarlet Angel, she didn't have to pretend she was something or someone other than who she really was.

She knew she wasn't strong enough to break free from his arms without a little help, so she ran forward while still held closely to his body. It caught him off guard enough that he stumbled backward, unable to get his feet under him quickly enough, until he backed into the side of the house with enough force to loosen his grip.

She broke free of his hold and backed away, pulling her modified revolver from her holster as she went. "I don't do delicate."

The bastard didn't even seem surprised by her actions, his broad smile looked pleased, but he threw up a hand making her pause when she turned to walk toward the house. "There is blood everywhere. It looks like somebody purposely splattered it on the walls."

"What!" Her voice cracked, and she froze completely. Her heart beat hard against her chest as her thoughts immediately turned down the dark path in her mind that brought forward the picture of her mother's room five years ago. "Show me." She whispered.

The look on her face must have been of absolute horror. She could feel her widened eyes drying, but she couldn't seem to blink to relieve them.

Ripley raced to her side, ignoring the gun in her hand as he took her elbow. "Everything okay?"

Scarlet allowed him to take some of her weight, not completely sure she could hold herself up. She turned her stunned face up to meet his. "Please." She begged softly.

He nodded, taking the gun from her hand and surprising her by tucking it back into her holster instead of removing it from her person completely, as he lead her to the house.

Everything about the inside seemed exactly the same as she remembered it from the many times September had visited since the young woman had lost her husband.

They had been very close in age, both twenty-two when Henry had died six months ago, and September had spent as much time as she could possibly spare visiting the woman.

They had never really become close. How could they when the woman she pretended to be, was almost opposite who she actually was. But she had truly enjoyed the woman's company.

As they entered the hall, Scarlet could smell death, but she was still surprised when she stepped up to the threshold of the room and saw the blood. So much blood.

She stumbled backward, unable to squelch the need to get away from the sight. Her back hit the wall just as her knees finally gave and she slid to the floor in front of the door.

"Scarlet? Scarlet!" Marshal Ripley knelt in front of her, blocking her view of the room.

"It's exactly the same." She said as she looked up into his concerned face. "It's exactly the same."

He frowned. "What is? Has this happened before?"

"Joanne Wilkes. Five...five years ago."

A horrified expression flitted across his face. "Wilkes? As in y...uh...September's mother?"

"Yes." She said closing her eyes only to open them again when she saw her mother's butchered body on the back of her eyelids. "In fact, September was the one to find her. Just like that, sliced down the center of her stomach with her insides pulled out. Blood was everywhere, and there was a V drawn in blood over her head on the headboard. He's back." She knew she was babbling and she struggled to make herself stop. The words were just falling out of her mouth.

Looking into his beautiful eyes helped to clear her mind. She couldn't allow him to see how much it affected her. The Scarlet Angel would not be so weak as to collapse at the sight of a murder, but she couldn't seem to force herself to stand.

Marshal Ripley surprised her again by pulling her into his arms and rocking her back and forth like a child. She knew she should pull away and pretend she was unaffected, but her body refused to cooperate. She was suddenly freezing, and his warmth drew her.

He held her until she had enough strength to lift her head from his shoulder. He watched her face closely, probably looking for signs of shock, before he rose and helped her to stand. He seemed to consciously put his body between her and the bedroom.

When she was on somewhat steady legs, he led her outside where he brought her down next to him on the steps. "Five years ago?"

"Yes." She said, looking over at him. She would never admit it to him, but she was really glad he had been here when she arrived. If she would have walked into that room without him, if she would have found Kate like that without his beautiful face to look into to remind her who she was, she would have completely lost it.

"You going to be okay?" He asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and drawing her into his side.

She nodded, allowing her head to loll on his shoulder and pressing her nose to his neck. He smelled so good. His soap and cut cedar smell calmed her when nothing else could.

His lips were pressed against her hair and his warm breath soaked into her scalp when he spoke. "Will you meet me tomorrow night?"

"Of course." She said, forcing her nose away from his neck and moving away. "You obviously need my help, and we have a killer to catch."

His smile was warm, but his eyes were concerned when he nodded. "Goodnight Scarlet."

"Goodnight Marshal."

Chapter Three

September Spent the first fifteen minutes at the jail house snooping through the marshal's desk. She found nothing out of the ordinary and only minimal notes on the widow's murder.

She wasn't stupid enough to think it meant he didn't take good notes. He just wasn't leaving them around for a nosey maid to find.

That earned him a little respect from her. The woman's murder and all its gruesome details shouldn't be something the town's people heard because someone had gotten a hold of notes not intended for their eyes.

She finished her snooping, deciding she would find nothing in the way of information, and started digging for supplies in the small closet in the corner of the jailhouse. She had left everything completely orderly the day before, but now it looked like somebody had gone through and pushed everything around with their feet. Bottles were knocked over and the broom's bristles where wedged under a heavy object she couldn't name.

It was rooting around in the small space, trying to free the broom, with her ass in the air, that she felt eyes on her. She stood quickly, spinning to see who was watching her, and landed smack in the middle of a hard chest that, of course, was heaving erratically.

"Oh Marshal! What are you doing?" It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to run her hands up his chest.

With her anchored close with one of his strong arms, he lifted the other and brushed a piece of hair out of her face. "How are you today?" His voice was low, almost as if he was asking a very private question, and his aqua eyes were serious and concerned.

He felt sorry for her.

"Uh...I'm good. I guess." She said pretending to be ignorant of the circumstances of the widow's murder.

Well, she succeeded in sounding confused.

The marshal leaned closer, not allowing their lower bodies to touch. She wanted him to press into her like he had the night before. She wanted his erection against her stomach. She wanted his mouth to finally brush against her, something she had been dreaming about since the first day she saw him.

Instead, he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Good."

That's all. One word and her nipples reached for him. Her sex throbbed and she became considerably wet in a flash. If he could do that with vocabulary and a hot breath, what would his hands do? His mouth?

"Marshal?" Her voice was raspy, and thick with desire.

What was he doing? Of all the times they had spoke, he had never stood this close, well, if you didn't count the time while she was the Scarlet Angel, but he wouldn't feel the need to hold back from Scarlet. Until now, he had always remained a safe distance from September.

Of course, she had teased him relentlessly without him even being aware of it. How many times had she dropped something purposely because she knew he was watching, and bent to pick it up?

Through still slightly labored breaths, he said, "Tomlin."

He was really starting to worry her. Why would he want her to call him by his first name all of the sudden? Surely, he didn't feel _that_ sorry for her.

He was still close enough for her to smell his fresh cut cedar scent. Her knees started to go weak. If she wanted to be able to stand on her own feet, she was going to have to get away from him. Fast.

"Anything new about Widow Grayson?" She tried to pull away from him, but his arm was tight around her.

September looked up into his eyes and nearly gasped. His pupils were huge and they were so focused on her, she was sure he saw through her clothes, through her skin.

"I've been thinking about something all night." He said instead of answering her question.

Again, she tried to pull away. Again, she had no luck. "The Widow's murder I hope."  
"No. About your lips." He was watching her mouth with undisguised want.

"I should probably finish up." She said, unable to look away from his eyes, his mouth.

He chuckled. A rumbling sound that warmed her insides. "Chicken."

She pulled her head back to look at him hard. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't you want to know why I was thinking about them?" He made it sound like such a reasonable request for a lady to make. As if women just went around demanding what men thought of their lips.

She pushed away from him, somehow dislodging his arms. "Marshal, I was the daughter of a whore. When a man says he was thinking about my lips, I've not doubt what he means."

He looked smug, and September was finding it harder and harder to keep herself in check. Part of her wanted to go back into his arms and kiss him with the lips he had been thinking about. Another part wanted to break his nose for being such a sexist, arrogant ass. Yet she did neither, because the sane part of he, knew she had to keep Scarlet at bay. September would never do either of those things.

"Oh, so you know they remind me of someone else's lips then?" At her expression, his smile turned from smug to blindingly arrogant. And he looked completely gorgeous.

She really, really wanted to break his nose...right after she took him into her body until they were both completely spent.

He wanted to make jokes huh? It just so happened she liked jokes too.

Stepping forward, she leaned up on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "Is that what you meant Marshal? Or were you imagining them all over your body?" She trailed a hand up his hard chest until she cupped the back of his neck. The other she ran slowly down his rippled stomach muscles, just stopping at the top of his pants. "Did you think about me when you were in your bath tub touching yourself? Did you imagine me using my lips to kiss my way down your stomach until I sucked your cock between them?"

His breath, which had normalized somewhat, became erratic again. "I'm surprised at you September. Where did you learn such language?" He panted. His mouth was only inches from hers. He only need lean down a little and she could touch her mouth to his.

"My mother was a whore, remember? Is there any reason you are purposely provoking me Marshal?" She was as breathless as he was, and her body ached for him.

"Don't you think you should call me Tomlin after such a speech?" He leaned in further. So close his mouth brushed hers very lightly as he spoke, and they both ceased all movement, including breathing.

_I want this so bad._ Just one kiss and then she could go back to... What _was_ she supposed to be doing? Something about murder and cleaning supplies?

With a spark of sanity long forgotten, her job and mission came screaming back to the forefront of her mind. Clarity that was completely unwelcome as far as her body was concerned, and a little late as far as her mind was concerned, swept through her.

September Wilkes would not be in a closet with a ridiculously sexy man, and she definitely wouldn't be about to kiss that man.

"No Marshal. I think I should call you by your title if only to remind you that cornering innocent women in closets isn't part of your job."

She tried to back away, but Tomlin caught her hand. "I don't see an _innocent_ woman."

Well that just stung.

Her eyes narrowed on him and his expression changed instantly. His joking smile faded and confusion wrinkled his brow. He knew she was mad, but he obviously didn't understand her anger.

"My mother was the whore _Tomlin_ , not me." Her tone was one to rival the Scarlet Angel's deadliest. She spun, her anger making her movements sharp.

"Hey!" He said, again grabbing her hand. "That's not what I meant."

She jerked her hand away again. Putting as much venom into her glare and words as she could, she snapped, "Save it! I know exactly what you meant."

She stomped her way through the jailhouse, waking the sleeping inmates. God, she had completely forgotten in the time she had been all over the marshal, that there were actually people in those cells.

Fortunately, they all seemed to like their sleep, probably because they had been picked up in the middle of the night from the saloon.

No way some idiot man was going to treat her like some cheap whore. Why had she thought he was different? He was male, and there was only one kind of man. The kind that would do anything to get between a woman's legs. He had obviously played her like the idiot she was suddenly feeling herself to be.

"Damn it September! Come back here!" He yelled before she heard his boots against the wood floor, eating up the distance she had put between them.

"Not likely _Tomlin_."

The front door flew open and Evers, a twenty-year-old deputy, stumbled in. "Marshal, I'm glad I caught you. There was another murder."

September's head swung around and she looked up into the young man's face. "Another woman?"

Evers' looked at her and then Tomlin, the smell of his clean, young soul, usually so comforting, doing nothing in the way of pulling her from her fear. When Tomlin nodded his head giving the young man permission to share the information in front of her, Evers shrugged. "It was Julianne Stevens."

She was surprised. Even though Evers had said a woman had been killed, it was still shocking to hear the name. It gave her a face, an identity, and this one was a little closer to home. The faceless stranger was no longer just an unfortunate woman. She was a long time acquaintance and fellow daughter of one of the town whores.

Scarlet was strong and could compartmentalize news such as this. September was not - at least not he September she let people know - and since her personality mask was firmly in place, and the satin one was still at home hanging from her mirror, she decide to do what she thought September might.

Her legs went boneless and she fell. Tomlin's strong arms wrapped around her, keeping her from hitting the ground.

_Here again huh?_ She was starting to make a habit of being in this position. A habit she liked more than she should.

"Whoa!" Tomlin said, copping a feel of her ass as he hoisted her up along his body. "September?"

Handsy jackass.

She didn't doubt for a second that he had purposely dragged her against his erection, as well as all the other wonderfully hard planes of his body. It was mortifying to think he might know what that did to her.

"Maybe I should go home." She said innocently.

Tomlin sat her in his chair at his desk and backed away. When her eyes met his, she realized with annoyance, that he was watching her with amusement. Did he suspect she was faking?

"Evers, can you take Miss Wilkes home? She's going to need a little time. I'd take her myself, but the quicker I get to Miss Stevens home, the better."

Evers nodded, eager to help his new boss anyway he could. "Do you want me to come help when I drop her off?"

Again Tomlin regarded her with amused eyes. "No, I'm sure I'll be getting help soon."

When Evers looked as though he was about to fire off a million questions, Tomlin raised a hand. "Don't worry about it Evers. I'll be fine."

Chapter Four

Tomlin smiled when he heard Scarlet's barely audible thud as she landed ten feet away. He probably wouldn't have heard her at all if he hadn't been waiting for it. How she could see to fly that interesting contraption in the dead of night, he didn't know, but he'd bet it had taken a lot of bumps and bruises to get it right.

Pulling away from the shadow, he walked within feet of her, only alerting her to his presence, when he reached out and ran his hand along her arm. She spun quickly, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back. He hated to admit it, and he probably never would out loud, but it would have taken a lot of effort to get away from her if that is what he desired.

Instead he allowed himself to be pushed into the outside wall of Julianne Stevens' little house. "It's about time you showed up." He said when his chest met the splintering wood.

Her breasts pressed into his back, and he clenched his jaw to keep from purring at the delicious feeling. "How did you even know I would come?" She said reaching up to whisper in his ear, which dragged her hardened nipples against his shirt. "What if I hadn't heard?"

"Like you said, there are no secrets in a town like this." Actually, September had said that, but she didn't seem to catch it.

His breathing was getting steadily worse, as she used her free hand to feel along his body for weapons. He didn't miss how her hand lingered along his chest and abdomen longer than necessary, or how she gasped quietly when she accidentally brushed against his erection. "Plus, I'm a lot smarter than I look." He added.

"Are you sure?" The warmth of her breathy words against his neck caused his eyes to drift closed.

"I'm going to love proving just how smart I am." He spun quickly, managing to get both her wrists in one hand, while turning her until her back was against the house and her arms above her head. He leaned forward, carful to allow his lips to brush against her ear as he spoke. "And I'm going to make you acknowledge it. Loud."

"And when you prove to be just another idiot in the world of law enforcement?"

He almost laughed. She probably didn't realize it, but she was arching into his body. "We'll just have to see." He brushed his lips against hers, delighting in the way her lips parted to allow him further access. It was a temptation he somehow managed to refuse. "Do you think you will be able to do this tonight?"

She blinked rapidly for a moment, no doubt just as confused about her lack of control as he was of his. "Yes." She shook her head. "I'm prepared now."

He released her, and just barely resisted the urge to run his hand along the front of his pants, to adjust his situation.

They made their way through the house, noting anything they thought might be out of place, which of course was nothing. When they reached Julianne's room, Scarlet took a deep calming breath before walking in.

He had seen it already, and knew it was exactly the same as the widow's had been. A beautiful woman, spread naked on the bed, with her insides visible through the huge gaping slice up the center of her.

He also saw what she couldn't, what the shadows remembered, and it wasn't much different either. He still didn't have a face or any other discerning feature to point in the direction of who this evil man could be.

Scarlet only closed her eyes for a moment. Stilling herself against the images that were no doubt flooding her brain. Images of her mother lying in exactly the same position. When she again opened them, she was composed, a mask over a mask.

She walked toward the headboard, careful not to disturb anything in her path. As she leaned forward until her face was less than a foot away from the bloody V on the wood, the skin visible around her mask turned chalk white.

"You okay?" He stepped forward, ready to catch her if she passed out.

She closed her eyes, and sucked in a deep calming breath. "Yes. Thank you."

"I sent out a message to my guys today. If this really is the same guy who killed Joanne Wilkes, two deaths in as many nights tells me the guy hasn't been taking a break these five years." She flinched at the mention of her mother, but continued to take the scene in. "We are stationed everywhere, if there is something out there, we'll find it. I should know something tomorrow."

He couldn't help but be astonished and completely in awe of her strength. There were very few individuals in the world that could take in a scene like this, especially given the circumstances behind her own mother's death, and not run out of the room screaming.

"That soon?" Her curious gaze landed on him and he almost went to her. Those bright green eyes were just barely glistening with tears he knew she refused to let fall.

He smiled softly, wishing he could comfort her. "You aren't the only one with interesting gadgets Miss Scarlet. You're also not the only one with secrets."

She walked past him, through the door to the bedroom. Even the strongest of individuals could only stand so much of the gruesome scene. "Secrets Tomlin?" She asked from the hallway, when he followed her.

He caught up with her just as they exited the house, and reached out to wrap an arm around her waist. "I like the way you say my name. I'll share my secrets with you _very_ soon."

A slight smile popped up on her mouth, but she schooled her expression quickly. Whatever had just crossed her mind looked naughty, and his body couldn't help but react to it.

"Why?" She wasn't fighting him, but he didn't fool himself into believing she was finally giving in to their mutual need for each other. She was in need of his comfort and he was more than willing to give it.

He pressed her head down on his shoulder and hugged her close, rocking her slightly. "It's necessary for the trust we are going to have to put in each other to catch this murderer."

Her arms came up around his neck and she repositioned her head to the center of his chest, obviously taking comfort in his beating heart. "I'm not sure I'm ready to trust you."

He smiled into her hair. She may not be ready to trust him, but she was definitely starting to. He kissed her head and allowed her to move away when she started pulling back.

She took off into the dark, disappearing after only few feet. "I'll see you very soon Miss September." He said to the night, because he knew she hadn't heard him.

Tomlin found enough self-control to wait until almost dawn to scale the side of September's apartment building to her window located on the second floor. The hard part had been disarming her makeshift alarm without waking her up. It was surprisingly sophisticated for the parts she had at her disposal.

He closed the window quietly, having already greased it so it wouldn't squeak, and turned to the bed.

He abruptly stalled. She was lying face down on the bed, her body devoid of cloth, except the corner of a sheet that was barely covering her lovely backside.

Her curves had been an enormous temptation when she had worn men's pants and a vest. Hell, her body had been a temptation when she had been wearing all those ridiculous layers women wore in order to be proper. Now? His breathing was worse than it had ever been, and he had to stand very still and focus to get it within normal parameters so he wouldn't wake her up as he approached the bed.

The more he was around her, the more he slowly lost control of his body. The creamy, smooth skin of her back was a sirens call his fingers barely ignored, but his eyes wouldn't stop their perusal of all her exposed skin.

He took in her beauty from the nape of her neck down along her spine, loving the natural curve of her back. The sheet started just below where her delicious bottom did, and he could see the upper curve of both of her shapely cheeks.

Tomlin had to rub a hand over his face several times to keep from reaching for her. His fingers were itching to stroke her lush curves.

He shifted on the bed, forgetting for a moment what he was doing in favor of repositioning his swollen cock, and cringed when she made a small noise. Fortunately, she only tossed her head around a couple of times, and then settled it back where she started.

He almost felt bad about watching September sleep in her naked state. _Almost._ Of course almost wasn't enough to make him get up and leave, so he just kept watching. Until he started touching.

Tomlin's itching fingers finally got the best of him and he reached out, drawing two of the shaky bastards down the smooth column of her neck and then down her back. When he reached the upper slope of her bottom, he just barely managed to talk himself out of pushing the sheet aside so he could explore her amazing curves. Instead, he spanned his hand wide on the small of her back.

A small moan from September, made him smile, and he slowly started moving his hand upward, caressing.

In a flash, she rose, grabbing one of his shoulders and spinning him until she could press him back against the bed, and then she was straddling him. It would have been a much nicer position if it wasn't for the gun she had pressed to his head.

"Whoa!" The sheet - the evil piece of cotton - had managed to bunch just below her hips, hiding her more secret secrets, but the rest of her lovely form was bare, and he didn't even try to hide the fact that he was taking every inch of it in. "And whoa!"

He only managed a quick glance in the direction of her face before his eyes went back to the rest of her beauty, but he saw the brief expression of confusion there. He was going to take in as much of her body as he could before she decided to cover herself up. Or shoot him.

"Marshal?" Again, his eyes lifted to her face, only to wonder back down to her sleek curves. "Why are you here?"

"Visiting?" His voice was strained, coming out like when water went down the wrong pipe. Oh wait! Maybe he was sucking drool into his lungs with his ridiculous over-breathing.

The end of the gun pressed harder into the front of his head. _Oh yeah, there's a gun pressed to my forehead._ And he still didn't look away from those beautiful deep pink tipped pieces of perfection.

"Stop talking to my breasts."

"No, it's okay, really. I was trained to study body language." When the distinct sound of a gun being cocked registered beyond the sound of his breathing, he finally looked up into her face. _Beautiful._ "Come on. You're not going to shoot me."

"I wouldn't be so sure _Tomlin_." Her face was too soft for the harsh words, and desire smoldered in her eyes.

He fought a smile. "Why is that _Scarlet_?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but before the words left her lips, her eyes widened then narrowed. "How did you know?"

"Those green eyes." Without breaking eye contact, he lifted his hands to rest on the outside of her thighs. The smooth, soft skin inviting him to rub his thumbs back and forth. "Have I mentioned how beautiful they are?"

Her eyelids drifted lower, and her nipples hardened further. She gave her head a slight shake, and though it probably helped to clear her head, the motion caused her breasts to wiggle enticingly in front of his face and her warm core to rub against his erection. "How long?"

His hands gripped her thighs, as he struggled with his desperate need. "The alley." He groaned. "You stepped close and I caught a glimpse of your eyes. But I was already pretty sure it was you, the eyes were just confirmation."

"The first night?" He slid his hands up her thighs, letting the sheet bunch around his wrists, until he reached the very top of her legs. "Stop that!" She wiggled again trying to dislodge his hands, ripping a groan from his throat, and causing his grip to tighten.

When he had a moment to compose himself, he opened eyes letting them settle on the beautiful green of hers. "You may say it now." He moved his palms further up until they rested on her hips.

She gasped and closed her eyes. "What?" She whispered.

"That I'm incredibly smart." He rubbed his thumbs along the outer edges of her flat stomach. "We'll talk about how handsome I am later."

"Stop." Again, there was no conviction there, and the gun away moved from his head. "Do you think anybody else knows?"

He frowned a little at her insinuation that if _he_ knew who she was, that there had to be others, but when he removed his hands from her hips to take the gun and put it on the table next to the bed, she looked almost distraught until he put them back, so he was appeased. But he would make her acknowledge how smart he was eventually.

"No. Aside from my amazing genius and incredible perception, I have an advantage where you are concerned."

Her forehead crinkled, but her breasts were bobbing up and down with her breaths that were every bit as erratic as his. "What's that?"

He had hoped she would ask that. He used his hands at her hips to rub her warmth against his erection, not once but twice. They both moaned at the wonderful friction. "That." He choked out. "It happens anytime I'm around you. Mask or not."

"Oh." Was he imagining things or did that sound more like an "Oh God, let's have sex" oh, than an "Oh, I guess that makes sense" oh? "Tomlin we have to stop."

He reached up and ran his knuckles across one of her nipples. She gasped and her head fell back, revealing her long slender throat once again.

He wanted to lick it, along with about a hundred other places on her body. But he decided to go with her mouth since it had been in all his favorite dreams since her first saw her.

Placing a hand at the small of her back, he pulled her down, until he could reach up, and lick across her bottom lip. She collapsed on top of him, her soft breasts pressing into his chest as he shoved his tongue into her mouth. After only a moment, she too was teasing the inside of his mouth with her tongue.

Her mouth was sweet and soft, but there was more than once that she used her teeth to nip at him, and the mixture of sweet and sassy was the epitome of September. She was by far the most fascinating woman he had ever stumbled across.

"Every time I see that mouth, I want it all over me." He said while sucking on her bottom lip. "I've been thinking about that kiss for a very long time."

"Me too."

That was all he needed to hear. He thrust his erection against her core again, worrying for the first time in his life, that he might actually dirty up the inside of his pants.

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, because he would hate to embarrass himself, something sent her into a panic. "Oh God we have to stop!"

She scrambled into a sitting position, causing his eyes to roll back in his head as the added weight put more of that heavenly pressure against his cock. He grabbed her hips tying to hold her still so she wouldn't release him and cause the very embarrassment he was trying to avoid.

As much as he was tempted to push this little encounter until they were both riding the waves of ecstasy, she was scared, and he wouldn't make her do anything - willing though she might be for the moment - that she would regret later.

He sighed and closed his eyes. "Then you better get dressed. Your nipples are begging for my mouth to be around them."

When he opened them again, she smiled. A soft curl of her lips that conveyed her thanks. She knew he had the ability to keep this going. She knew he had as much control over her body as she did. If he insisted that this continue, it probably would, but it wasn't going to, and he could tell how thankful she was that he would listen to her.

She rose, and for the first time since all this started, he caught a fleeting glimpse of her beautiful secret flesh as she climbed off him.

Good lord she was glistening. He was already starting to regret his act of respect for her feelings. He could have been buried inside her in a few short minutes.

_Respect._ He hadn't noticed before what a dirty word it could be.

He balled up her sheet and threw it at her as she strolled across the room naked. A man could only be so controlled.

She laughed, but was nice enough to wrap the cloth around her body. "So, are you going to tell me about this secret you have?"

I'm probably going to masturbate three to four times today thinking about you naked.

That's probably not what she meant.

I've done it every night since the day I've met you, and that was before I saw you naked, so you do the math.

Nope. That probably wasn't right either.

He sighed. "I'm part of a secret society called the Red Knights." Normally, the society wasn't something that was talked about to anyone, but he had already decided, and his superiors agreed, that she would make an excellent addition to the group. He was going to give her the option of joining, and then he was going to do everything possible to convince her to say yes. "We are a privately coordinated society of specially trained men _and_ women, and though we cooperate with the government, we are not a part of it."

"Wow!" She had finally covered her body in a long nightgown, and he was happy about it. _Really._

He smiled. "What? I've actually impressed you?" He could have done a whole lot more to impress her if she wouldn't have put an end to it.

Curiosity bloomed as she took a seat in front of him on the bed. "So, how can you talk back and forth with your men so quickly?"

"We use a devise that transmits our voices over long distances." He forced himself to keep his hands at his sides, so he wouldn't reach out and take hers. He was okay with her thinking he wanted her body, - because he did - but he wasn't okay with her thinking he wanted something more than that - because he did.

Her eyes were wide and her obvious excitement had him wound up as well. "I'm going to have to see this."

He laughed. "Of course."

September continued with what she knew had to be a barrage of questions. The more she found out about the Red Knights, the more she wanted to know. He couldn't seem to answer the questions fast enough for her, before she was throwing another one at him.

She was on the verge of nailing him with a few more when he sighed. "September. There was another reason I came by like this." When she raised a suspicious eyebrow at him, he gave a short laugh. "No. I don't mean sex."

"What Tomlin?"

_Tomlin._ It was the first time she had said his name out laud without a snide inflection. It felt...nice.

Something about his expression informed her that what she heard next was not something she wanted to hear. "There was another murder last night."

Nope, definitely not on her list.

September held completely still. The way he was acting, like it was going to be agony to spit the name out, had her nervous. "Who?" Her voice no more than a whisper.

He took a deep breath, and in that extended moment of anticipation, she considered covering her ears, knowing this was going to be hard on her. "Ruby Wilson."

The impact of that name hit her hard in the chest. "Oh God!" Already, her stomach was convulsing in the need to sob, and her eyes stung from the prick of tears. Streams of them ran down her face, before she even realized they had run over the rim of her lower lid.

Tomlin didn't even hesitate. He scooped her up in his arms and delivered her to his lap. "I'm so sorry."

She leaned on him heavily, limply, wondering if it were possible to gain actual pounds from the weight of emotions. She felt nearly one thousand pounds heavier.

_Ruby. Oh God, not Ruby._ Five years ago before her mother's death, Ruby had been Joanne's closest friend. Everyone who didn't know the two, just assumed they were sisters, from the obvious bond they shared and the fact that they looked so much alike. Losing Ruby was like losing a favorite Aunt.

She sat in his lap, holding on for dear life, and sobbing until her body hurt from all the convulsions.

"She has a daughter." She whispered into Tomlin's neck, when she was almost too tired to cry anymore. "They don't talk, but she'll need to be notified."

He rocked her, like a child, and it helped to comfort her. The tears were still flowing continually, but at least the sobs had stopped. "It's already all taken care of."

"We have to find this bastard." She couldn't allow this psychotic bastard to continue to steal her loved ones.

"I promise we will stop him." He ran his hand down her back and kissed her forehead, before he went back to rocking her. "Together."

She allowed herself a sad smile. "It feels kind of good not having to do it all by myself."

"Just wait until you join the Red Knights." He was grumbling, like it was such a burden to be a part of the society, but she could hear the affection in his voice. "You might want to go back to the glory days of being the Scarlet Angel. You're going to have more people at your back than you can handle."

She lifted her head from his shoulder, leaning back so she could look into his blue-green eyes. "First of all, I don't remember telling you I was going to join the Red Knights. Second, I think it will feel good to be able to be myself more often than I'm not."

A very interesting expression graced Tomlin's face, and then he pressed his lips to hers.

She was shocked, and by the time she found the composure necessary to make him stop, he quit on his own.

"Okay, I have a lot to do today, and so do you. I'll see you tonight September."

Chapter Five

When September climbed over the back edge of the saloon, Tomlin was already there, looking over the front of the building at the street bellow.

The material of his shirt was stretched over his wide shoulders and muscular back, as he stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. He was standing with his feet apart and his back strait. He looked beautiful and menacing even from behind. Ready for a war, or a certain angel to strip him.

That now familiar hum of attraction zinged through her gut.

Scarlet was practically silent as she placed one foot then another on the roof. She doubted it was very often that anyone ever got a jump on Tomlin Ripley. She should have known she wasn't going to be one of them.

"Good evening September." He said before she could reach him to scare him.

She pouted. "I just can't sneak up on you can I?

"Nope." She couldn't see his face, but there was a smile in his voice, though it might be a little sad.

It was wishful thinking to hope that he was actually happy to see her. She knew his attraction for her was purely sexual, even if hers was rapidly changing to something else. It was more likely that he had been waiting around for her so that they could get some work done.

September had spent the day much like she had after that first murder. In a fog. Somehow she had managed to make it through all of her jobs, but she honestly couldn't remember doing any of it.

She was being confronted with the murderer of at least four women, all of whom Scarlet had known in more than just passing. He had taken three of her friends and her _mother_ , and inadvertently brought life to the Scarlet Angel.

This terrifying monster had more influence in her life than any other human being alive. Everything about her existence was twisted or arranged around the man. She couldn't even walk out of her house without a mask of some sort, either on her face or on her soul.

"So, what do you know?" She asked walking up next to Tomlin and gazing down at the street.

"The room is exactly the same. And there is still nothing that might give us a clue about who did it. I heard back from my contact though. Our man has been in over one hundred different towns over the last five years." His words were grim and his voice was slightly overwhelmed.

Scarlet looked at him, admiring his profile. "He's killed that many times?" She whispered.

His eyes moved to her, but he didn't move his head. "Yes. I can only assume that nobody has put this together until now because he moved around so much. This seems to be the only town where he has killed multiple women." He watched her carefully while he said the last.

_He's worried about me._ It was so sweet and unexpected her throat tightened up and the painful prick of tears made her look away. When she finally felt she could speak without too much trouble, September asked the question she was terrified she already knew the answer to. "Where was his first?"

He faced her and stepped closer, but didn't lift his hand to her, though he clenched and unclenched it a few times. "If all the records were found, which it's completely possible there is more where one of our men are not stationed, your mother was his first victim."

This time the tears fell. Her mother was the _first_!

"We have to find him." She said through a huge lump in her throat, as she forced herself not to sob openly. Like she hadn't done that enough today.

But Tomlin finally closed the distance between them, wrapping her in his arms. He felt so warm and strong and perfect for a girl to bury her face into and just let go of the tears that she had fought off for five years. So she did.

She became a sobbing mess in his arms, and before she was done, she was supporting less than half of her own weight.

"I'm so sorry September." He said when her sobbing was reduced to sniffling and hiccups.

Though she knew she must look like hell, even with the mast on, he was looking down at her like she was something to be cherished.

God, her emotions were so close to the surface today. She was actually imagining that Tomlin Ripley was looking at her with adoration in his blue-green eyes. It was only a matter of time before she thought she saw love there and then she wouldn't have the strength to tell him no if he decided to make love to her. She was having a hard enough time as it was.

Even if he didn't adore her the way her heart was trying to convince her he did, he was taking care of her in a way no one else had for a long time, and she was tremendously grateful. "Thank you Tomlin. I'm sorry for this."

He reached up and ran his fingers through her hair. A gesture that only made her ridiculous heart all the more insistent in its delusions. "Don't be. This has to be so hard for you."

His cut cedar smell was so comforting, she didn't even try to fight the urge to burrow into him deeper. Her heart might be delusional, but she would deal with its eventual disappointment later. Right now, she would take the comfort she was being given. It had just been too long.

"September?" He sounded hesitant, but Scarlet couldn't make herself tense with worry. He felt so wonderful, and she was completely relaxed. "Can you tell me about your mother?

"Why?" She asked softly as she rubbed her cheek against his chest.

There was so much warmth and kindness in his voice, she almost didn't register how terrifying his words were. "If he started this with her all those years ago, there could be something about her. It might be something he is reliving over and over, using these women as substitutes.

September sighed, knowing more tears were sure to come. "She was wonderful. Perfect. Her looks were one thing \- she was by far the most beautiful woman I have ever seen - but she was also sweet and caring. She couldn't stand the thought of anyone or anything suffering.

"She was smart and she was funny. She made me laugh even when I was sad or scared. Her humor was so different. Some people didn't quite get her jokes. They were always so witty, many times she would just have to spell them out and by then, they weren't funny anymore, which always made them funnier to us.

Even now I miss her so much I can't breathe." The tears started spilling again, and she felt a little guilty about the wet spots she was leaving on Tomlin's shirt.

"She sounds like an amazing woman." His quiet voice was calming and she couldn't feel anything but the pride she had always felt for her mother. Tomlin seemed to help keep the pain to a minimum.

"She was. Did any of that help?"

Tomlin sighed. "Just made me more convinced that the killer was probably in love with your mother. Did she have any unwanted admirers?"

She gave a half laugh that contained very little humor. "Lots. She was a beautiful whore who lived in a town where the best looking man was only that, because he looked slightly less pregnant than the rest. But no, I never heard her mention anyone more than the others."

"Was she in a relationship?"

"She didn't ever tell _me_ she was, but I had a feeling she might be. I was worried it would be a married man so I never asked. Unfortunately, the person who would know is in there." She didn't point, she had no intention in taking her hands off Tomlin, but she knew he knew where she was talking about.

The room that was not doubt covered in blood in the saloon below them.

He pulled back just enough to look down at her. "Well, you probably don't want to go in there, plus there is nothing that hasn't been at any of the other scenes. Let's go to my house and we'll try to come up with our next move."

She smiled trying not to think about all the other things they could do there. How ridiculous how quickly her body heated, even with the emotional state she was in, at the mere thought of spending the night with Tomlin? "I'll meet you there."

Running to the edge of the building, she jumped and waited until mid air before she popped the contraption free so she could glide on the wind.

She loved her glider. Sometimes it was so freeing to be soaring through the air. And wasn't it one of those days where she needed the breather?

When September didn't show nearly an hour later, Tomlin decided she wasn't coming and tried not to feel the drain of disappointment as he climbed into the warm water of his bath.

It wasn't like he had expected her to suddenly start falling head over heels for him just because he had helped her through a few emotional episodes. It was just that, while he was holding her and comforting her through the tears, he had started to see her in his future.

If she chose to join the Red Knights, he would probably see her a lot. And if he asked nicely, he might be able to talk his superiors into stationing them together.

Where the hell did _that_ thought come from? He couldn't allow himself to become so wrapped up in a woman. Sure she was a beautiful, smart, sweet, sassy... Okay, damn it. She was pretty well perfect. But getting involved with her? How smart could _that_ be?

Leave it to Scarlet to catch him with his pants...not on.

She gracefully vaulted through the window, making a quick sweep of the room with her eyes, before they landed on him. He had no idea where she had gotten the training necessary to fight the way she did, but the woman was far more advanced than most of the second year recruits they had. She would have to start with the third years to actually learn something she didn't already know.

A smile pulled on the corner of one side of her mouth and she lifted the eyebrow on that side. "Thank God for bubbles, huh?"

Sassy? She must be feeling better.

"Yeah. If they weren't blocking your view, you would probably jump me before I finished getting clean." He said, with an eyebrow wiggle. "I thought you had decided not to come."

She sighed and plopped on his bed. "No. I just needed some time."

He didn't know what "time" entailed, but her hair was windblown and her face was rosy. She looked so incredibly beautiful, his heart squeezed as his erection pulsed.

"How are you doing with all of this?" As the sad look loomed on her face, he wanted to hold her and comfort her.

Unfortunately, he had been only moments away from taking himself into his own hand just before September showed up, and his erection was still pretty insistent that if it couldn't have the real thing, it wanted a fantasy, _right now_.

Wouldn't that have been an interesting situation if Scarlet would have flown around the block one more time? Something told him, if she would have walked in on him stroking himself, he wouldn't have quit. Just the thought of her eyes on him made him dizzy with arousal.

"I'm just ready to catch this guy." She wasn't looking at him. Just staring out at the dark city through his window, her forehead wrinkled. "What if he kills again tonight?"

Tomlin reached for the soap and a rag, and then rubbed them together. "I know. I'm worried about that too. I can only hope that everyone is listening to my warnings and not leaving any women alone." Sooner or later, he was going to have to stand in order to wash his body, and there was just no hiding his erection.

And getting it to go down? Not likely.

She kept her eyes averted from him and the bathtub, finding an unfathomable interest in his bedspread, her finger following the designs. "The girls at the saloon are all sharing a room tonight and they are sitting in with each other if one gets a customer."

He was struggling not to laugh. Obviously his little September was trying hard not to allow her focus to waver toward him.

Too bad!

"That's good." He stood and suds ran down his body and back into the water. His abrupt action caught her attention, and she instinctively turned her head in the direction of the movement.

Her eyes locked and widened on his body. She could try all she wanted, but she couldn't hide her reaction to the sight of him. Hell, the way her breasts were rising with her labored breathing until they were swelling above the neck of her vest, was not helping with the increase of blood flow to his cock.

"Yeah." She said breathlessly.

He took his time running the rag over his body and was actually surprised when she continued to watch him instead of looking away.

September couldn't look away. Her eyes refused to leave the absolute beauty of the man standing completely naked and aroused in front of her.

She'd seen countless naked men while living with her mother at the whore house. All of which had made her cringe with disgust.

Tomlin Ripley was nothing like those men. He was strength and grace in the form of a leanly muscled, gorgeous man.

Smooth bronzed skin covered every delicious muscle of his body. It was impossible not to be completely blown away by utter beauty of his strength. Dark hair thinly covered his thighs, calves and chest, while a thin strip of it ran down the center of his stomach to the erection bellow. And _holy cow!_ What a gorgeous and large erection it was.

The moment she had climbed through the window to find him sitting in his bathtub, her body had begun the process of heating up and readying itself for something she couldn't allow it to have, and all she had been able to see then were is muscular shoulders.

She nearly swallowed her tongue now as she watched him move the rag in his hand slowly down his stomach muscles to the rigid length beneath. Her breathing becoming so labored, she wasn't sure if she was going to pass out or not.

When he stroked himself once then twice with the rag, she tried to swallow, only to realize her mouth was dry because she was sitting there with it hanging open.

She squeezed her thighs together hoping to relieve the already unbearable pressure there. It only made it worse.

He did it again, and even though she knew he was doing it just to tease her, she still couldn't pull her eyes away, and the pulsing need between her legs was beginning to drive her within kissing distance of insanity.

When she wasn't sure she could watch much more without an explosion of some kind taking place, he finally sank back into the water to rinse the soap.

Unfortunately, he didn't stay down long enough for her body to cool, before he was standing again and reaching for a towel as he climbed out.

He dried himself slowly, paying special attention to the areas that made her heart race the most.

When he was dry - some parts so dry she was panting and every breath caused her nipples to rub against her vest making the pressure worse - he dropped the towel, and stalked toward her.

Good Lord, you would think the man had at least one flaw, but the closer he got the more impossibly beautiful he became.

He finally stopped directly in front of her and the bed. How convenient that his erection was directly in front of her face. And though she had never even come close to having the urge before, she was dangerously close to leaning forward and putting him in her mouth.

September licked her lips and tried to find a way - any way - to look away from him.

There was no denying that his body wanted the same things hers did. And she hadn't missed the jerk of his cock when she swiped at her lips with her tongue. But she couldn't do those things, not matter how much she was dying to.

Leave it to Tomlin to be able to read her mind. "What are you afraid of September?"

His voice broke the trance she was in, and she was finally able to look away. "My mother didn't want me to be like her." She said, desperately looking around the room for anything that might have the ability to tempt her eyes more than his body. "She made me promise to never be like a whore. I listened. I was seventeen when she died, but I hadn't ever felt the need to look for a man. After she died I didn't have the time. I had a whole new person to become."

She refused to look at his Tomlin's face, but she knew he would respect her wishes. So she wasn't surprised a bit when he turned and walked across the room to the dresser, letting her have a gut-clenching view of his sculpted backside to her hearts _un_ -content, as it continued to beat that super paced rhythm.

"Do you mean Scarlet or September?" He was digging in one of the drawers and she was so busy watching his ass and the glimpses of his testicles between his legs when he bent over, that she had to replay the question in her head nearly a dozen times before she could answer.

She gave a short laugh. "It's still amazing to actually be talking about this. But you're right. I used my mother's death to change September to the mild, insignificant person she is."

By the time she had sorted out the jumbled mess of her thought and spit the words out, he had already pulled on some pants and moved back across the room to sit next to her on the bed.

Tomlin was slowly becoming her shoulder to cry on, which should scare he, because it meant she was losing a little of her independence. But it was such a relief to have someone to lean on, she couldn't even talk herself into being worried about it in the slightest.

When he reached over bringing her face around so he could look into her eyes, she didn't try to pretend she didn't like his touch. In fact, she rubbed her cheek into his palm and closed her eyes.

He pulled the string that secured her mask until the tie released and it fell away. "You're always wearing a mask of some sort, aren't you?"

She opened her eyes and accepted the words that flowed out of her mouth only as they emerged. "Except with you. I actually get to be myself with you. I love that mask because it allows me so much freedom, but it feels so good to be able to take it off."

"I like it too." He whispered. "Your face is one of my favorite things about you." And then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

The soft sweet pressure of his mouth on hers changed within seconds of contact. His hands found her hips, and the tips of his fingers dug into her flesh, pulling her closer. She went without thought.

With their mouths still fused, tongues licking at each other, he pressed her back onto the bed and covered her completely.

The pressure of his heavy body on hers was an unexpected pleasure. His chest pressed deliciously against hers and she couldn't stop the involuntary spreading of her legs to let him fall in between.

Contact!

His arousal against hers had her arching her back and he moved his arm under her to pull her even tighter against him.

His skin felt amazing under her hands, and she rubbed them up and down his back while he released her mouth and started kissing down her neck.

It was soft and warm as he sucked on her collarbone then licked the hollow of her throat. "I want to taste every inch of you September."

She moaned both at his words and his actions. She wanted his mouth all over her too. Had actually been fantasizing about it since he mentioned it at the jailhouse. Okay, she had mentioned it, and okay again, she had been thinking about it a lot longer than that. Like since the first time she had seen those irresistibly soft lips when she first met him.

She didn't understand her desperate fantasies where he was concerned. There had never even been a second glance at any of the other men she had met. Even had she not made that promise to her mother, there had never been a man who attracted her in this way.

My promise!

"Wait! Oh my God!" She struggled to get up, her arms pressing off the bed beside her and her legs wiggling around trying to find some kind leverage.

Tomlin stopped pleasuring her with his mouth, which was good, but at the same time she wanted so much more. "What are you doing?"

Her body was still ready for his and even in the panic she was in, she couldn't help but feel how his erection pressed into her as she wiggled around.

More pressure! "I have to go. Oh god!" She pushed against his wonderful chest, trying not to think about how great the muscles felt against her hands.

When he finally move back enough for her to get free, she scrambled off the bed and almost fell on the floor as she came over the edge. "September wait! What's wrong?" He was standing in an almost crouched position with a hand out in front of him like he was talking to her while she pointed a loaded gun at him.

She almost cracked, and a sob was rising in her throat. "You make me want to break my promise." It was hard to talk through the tightness of her throat and her words trembled as they emerged from her mouth.

She didn't wait for him to talk her out of leaving. It would be far too easy for him to do so, and she was terrified to let him try. She turned quickly and opened the window.

"September!" Tomlin yelled as she dived through the opening.

She could hear the genuine concern for her in his voice, but she didn't look back.

She couldn't.

Chapter Six

Tomlin waited - though probably not patiently considering he was pacing a path in the floor and Evers kept sending him worried glances - for September to come in to work at the jailhouse.

He knew he had pushed her too far last night, but he really hadn't meant to, and the terrified look on her face as she told him he made her want to break her promise had nearly broken his heart.

He had just been so caught up in his need for her, he had let himself get carried away. It was a first for him too. A woman hand never consumed his mind and body like this before. To the point where his control was almost nonexistent when she was in the room.

When the front door opened and she finally entered, he froze, almost terrified to approach her in case she decided to run. He needed to speak rationally with her, and there would be no chance of that if he couldn't keep her in the room with him.

Her eyes met his for a quick moment before she walked over to the closet to get started with her work. And as girly as it was, that hurt his feelings a little.

And because he was being a sniveling girl, he followed her like a puppy. "Miss September. How are you this morning?" He hated having to keep the conversation so impersonal, but he couldn't say what he was dying to in front of Evers.

She didn't even turn to look at him as she dug through the supplies in the tiny closet. "Fine Marshal."

Damn the woman! Couldn't she give him something? A secret half smile when Evers was looking down, or even a quick wink to let him know that they were all right?

"Fully recovered?" There. That sounded like he was talking about her fainting episode, and only they would know there was more to the question.

She blushed. "Of course. Anything new Sir?"

He really hated that she addressed him like that. Even more after what had happened between them. And he wasn't just talking about the foreplay. They had a connection. _Feelings_.

Tomlin knew he had to be rational. She couldn't just throw her arms around him and rein kisses all over his face in front of Tomlin. But his frustration over this whole situation was making him absurdly antsy.

"Nothing new on the murders, but there was also no new murder last night. So...that's good news of course." He was dying with the urge to say more, but damn Evers, why did he have to be so good at his job?

"Good." She said, genuinely happy there was one less murder due to the psychotic monster's little hiatus.

She almost felt sorry for Tomlin as he struggled to think of something, _anything,_ to say to her that wouldn't seem odd to Evers.

After several desperate moments, he didn't seem any closer to finding what he wanted to say, and in a frustrated huff, he went to his desk and pretended to do paper work, which might be more convincing if he wasn't holding the pen upside down.

She had never seen Tomlin like this, and she was probably right in assuming that she wasn't the only one. He was coiled tight with frustration and...desperation? What could possibly be so important?

When Evers finally left, September almost laughed at the huge sigh of relief that came from the direction of Tomlin's desk. Almost.

Unfortunately, the door had barely clicked shut behind him, when she heard the scrape of a chair. She had no doubt what was going to happen next.

In seconds, she was being captured from behind and hauled up against his hard body, and as always, his erection. "What happened last night?'

She closed her eyes as his breath caressed her neck and even though she couldn't remember giving the order, her hands linked with his at her waist. "You know what happened. Too much happened." Why couldn't her actions match her words? Was it really that much to ask?

He chuckled and she shivered. She wasn't sure why having her in his arms was calming him, but he was slowly returning to the Tomlin she knew and lo...liked! The Tomlin she knew and liked. "Funny, I thought we were getting to the best part."

Okay, maybe he wasn't returning to himself slow enough. He lapped at her ear with his tongue, and of course her stupid knees buckled. Did nothing about her over heated body know how to work properly?

"Don't." She whispered, and added her voice to the long list of ill behaving anatomy, when in didn't come out the stern command she thought she had issued. "You know what I mean."

He laughed again. Probably because while her mouth was saying no, her body was leaning back into his, completely agreeing with him. "Just because you have sex with someone, doesn't make you like them September. If it will make you feel better, you can pay me. I'd love to be your whore."

Despite everything, she was able to laugh. Fortunately it also gave her the strength to pull away. "Very funny." She rolled her eyes. "I'll think about it."

His eyes narrowed, but there was no anger in his voice. Just determination. "I will have you September."

Oh, she didn't doubt it. Not if he kept touching her every time he was within reach. "I've been thinking." It was an evasive tactic, and she didn't doubt he knew it. Cowardly or not, she needed to keep his hands off of her. And talking about the murder might be the only thing that could do that. As long as she could make it through the conversation without weeping, causing him to hold her in his warm strong arms. That could only lead in one direction.

"About me being inside you?"

Only all the time!

She sighed. Damn him and his not-taking-her-evasions bullshit. "Can you please be serious?"

"Can I touch you and be serious at the same time?" He was grabbing her and pulling her into his body before she could answer, and as though her body was used to his touch and even thankful for it, she immediately melted into him.

She was in so much trouble. "No. I can't concentrate." There went her voice again.

"I think I listen better." He whispered in her ear.

She laughed. She really, _really_ liked him. It was nearly impossible to push him away when she wanted to hold onto him so much.

Sighing because she was about to give into an urge she couldn't seem to check, she wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled into his chest. "You're ridiculous."

"Okay. Spit it out." He sounded completely content, like she'd granted his biggest wish. How could a woman not want to touch the man?

"Some say I look like my mother." She said carefully, knowing his reaction wasn't going to be exactly happy when he discovered what she was thinking.

"I've no doubt you do." He didn't sound suspicious yet. Which only meant she hadn't said enough.

She continued, already cringing in expectation for his reaction. "Same skin, same eyes, similar features... and my hair _is_ very dark."

"No!" The word blasted from his mouth with the force of a hurricane.

She had known he wasn't going to be happy, but if she had to go by the bruising grip his fingers had on her skin, she would guess he was on the verge of pissed. Or terrified.

When she pulled her head back to look into his face, she decided it had to be both.

"If he is staying in town he has probably already noticed me. I have just never been vulnerable." She reasoned.

He shook his head hard, clearly not wanting to follow the path her words were inevitably leading. "No September."

"He's used to women who can't defend themselves. He'll never expect me to fight back." She might not be as adept at fighting as Tomlin, but she was far from helpless.

He rested his forehead against hers. "But what if it's not enough?" His eyes closed tight. He almost looked like he was in pain. "I'll have no idea how to get to you."

God, she didn't want him hurting. She put her hands on the sides of his face, forcing him to look at her when his eyes opened again.

"It's all we have."

"September, I can't let you get hurt!"

She sighed. He already cared deeply for her. Well at least they were in the same awkwardly crafted rowboat there.

"Well here's the thing Tomlin." She said softly. "I'll do this whether you help me or not. Now you can keep an eye on me from a distance and know what's happening, or I can do this without you."

He frowned, his eyebrows pushing together. "I could lock you up."

"Try it." She said quietly. She wasn't mad, she knew he was just worried, but she also knew he would do it if he thought it might actually work.

He squeezed her tight. "September please!"

"We can do this Tomlin. I'll be fine." She leaned in brushing her nose against his.

"I hope you're right." And then he took her mouth. A desperate, demanding pressure on her lips. Not exactly passionate, in a sexual way. More a need, a compulsion to taste her and know she was really there, really safe.

The door slammed open as a gust of wind blew it out of Evers' hand as he opened it, causing Tomlin and September to jump apart, but it was too late. The kiss had already written itself on her heart.

She was in love with Tomlin Ripley.

Chapter Seven

When September finished her work, she went home and waited for Tomlin to show up. There was no sitting still with everything that weighed on her mind.

The plans she had for catching the killer, ran through her head continuously until every detail was worked out and she thought she might be ready for any possible situation that arose.

Then there was the whole, she was head over heels for Tomlin thing. What a revelation. And with him coming over tonight, how was she supposed to concentrate on catching a murderer when the man she not only desired beyond reason, but also loved - _loved_ \- was going to be so temptingly close all night?

"So, we do this tomorrow?" She said hours later when she had somehow managed to avoid physical contact with him for the hour and a half he had been in her room.

He shot her an aggravated look. There wasn't much about the plan he found favorable, because it put her in danger, but he couldn't argue that it wasn't a good one. "I guess."

"It's going to be fine." Though she had avoided contact with him since he arrived, she had had to fight hard against her body to make it happen. She couldn't hold back anymore, and she rose from the bed and crossed the room to where he stood up against the wall.

As she reached up to press her thumb against the crease between his brows, he looked at her with complete defeat. "I wish I could be sure. If anything happens to you..."

She silenced him with an index finger on his lips.

Standing in front of him with more love in her heart than she thought possible, the decision she had already made, but had decided to wait until all things plan concerned were worked out, was suddenly far easier to deal with than she would have ever thought possible.

There was no breaking her promise to her mother, because she wasn't just having sex, she was making love. To a man worthy of every piece of her.

He was watching her face, if only because there was no other place to look, but he must have seen the sudden decision there. His forehead wrinkled in confusion before both eyebrows snapped up and his eyes widened. "Why now?"

She knew what he was worried about, and she knew why he had that terrified look on his face. Tomlin Ripley thought he was about to be the relief of her virginity before she died.

She shook her head hard. "Everything is going to be fine Tomlin. I'm doing this because I want to be with you. Trust me, I'm not saying goodbye. I want this."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

He watched her for a second, probably gauging whether or not she meant what she was saying, and she met his eyes with the same kind of determination that had been in his voice when he told her he would have her.

He attacked her, and her squeal as they careened across the room to the bed, was that of a delighted woman without an ounce of fear in her heart.

She might be about to give something that had been a part of her life for the twenty two years she had been on this earth, to a man she had only _really_ known a few days, but she had no doubt he would take absolute care of her. Plus, he already had her heart. The rest was nothing.

As he took her down on the bed, covering her with his warm body, she smiled excitedly up at him. He paused above her, looking down into her eyes as if he had found something amazing about her face.

"What?" She asked, starting to get a little nervous.

He shook his head hard, and smiled, melting her, as always, with the beauty of it. "Nothing sweet September."

His kiss was soft and sweet when his mouth descended on hers. So much emotion coming with it, she almost cried out. This was more than just a meaningless union for him as well. When the intensity of the kiss changed to something hot and needy, she moaned against his mouth. He answered with a nip at her bottom lip with his teeth, followed by a deep sweep into her mouth with his tongue. Tasting.

Tomlin moved his hands slowly down her curves and then back up, like he was learning the shape of her body. If it didn't feel so good, she might think it was funny, since he had already seen every inch of her.

When he had worked his way back up to her breasts, he plucked the tip of one then the other. The only thing that kept her from arching her back was the heavy weight of his body holding her still.

He ran his lips down to her chin and along her jaw line, licking below her ear. He sucked the lower part of her lobe into his mouth before placing open-mouthed kisses to all the sensitive areas of her neck, all the while alternating between her left and right breasts, cupping, plucking and rolling.

There was no pattern to the assault, just an answer to the cravings of her body. He did to her what she wasn't even aware she wanted until she was moaning her pleasure at the ceiling.

He shifted down her body and for a moment September thought he meant to stop, so her fingers were already in his hair ready to hold him to her, when he latched on to one of her super stimulated nipples through her thin nightgown. Her fingers fisted hard enough to rip some of the silky, honey brown strands from his scalp. And without his weight, her back arched hard.

Still suckling her, his hands found the bottom of her nightgown. He lifted the material, placing his hands flat on her thighs under it. As his slightly callused hands rasped wonderfully up her legs to her hips, the nightdress bunched around his wrists, revealing her skin in their wake.

He lifted himself slightly so he could continue along the dip of her waist and up along her ribcage, his palms leaving a searing path, while the exposed skin cooled from the air of the room, and goose bumps pricked over her body.

When he finally worked the fabric over her head, he tossed it on the floor and sat back so he could look at her. As exposed as she was, she didn't feel the need to cover herself, not when he looked at her like that.

"God, September. I've never seen anything like you." She was surprised by the earnestness in his tone and the expression on his face. "I still want to taste every inch of you, and I'm going to."

_Yes_ , was all she could think, because that's what she wanted too and she wasn't even about to try to speak at the moment.

He started with her hand, pressing his lips to each finger and both wrists. The sensitive creases of her elbows were next. He licked each. When his tongue darted out, at first one nipple then the other without the material of her nightgown in the way, she gasped then shuddered both times, but when he actually sucked one into his mouth, the urgent pressure between her legs told her she was close.

" _Please!_ " She begged, hoping he would take pity on her and worry about tasting the rest of her later. But that wouldn't be very Tomlin-like, would it?

He bit and licked along her belly, causing fluttering spasms just below her skin, and when he dipped the tip of his nose into her belly button, quickly followed by his tongue, she knew he had more control over her body than she did.

_Next time._ She thought. Next time she would be the one in control over _his_ body. Now though, there was no way she was going to be able to take over.

When he reached her hipbone, she thought she might be home free. All she needed was for him to move his mouth over and down a few inches, and the wonderfully awful pressure would stop. Unfortunately, Tomlin was not a man to be veered off course. Even when she spread her legs, pulling one knee up to expose the pulsing flesh between her legs, he only groaned deep in his throat and closed his eyes as he licked the soft skin behind her knee.

He nipped at her calves and ankles, before working his way back up, stopping again at the back of her knee and then ever so slowly made his way up the inside of her thigh.

When he reached the crease between the top of her leg and her throbbing sex, he gave a long, leisurely lick before giving the same treatment to the crease on the other side of her sex.

She was aching so bad, she almost grabbed his head and forced it where she wanted it to go, but as her hands found his hair again, he finally swiped his tongue up the center of her. She grabbed on tight, throwing her head back as she screamed.

He did it again and she bucked into him, stopping just short of grinding herself against his face. Her cries of pleasure only got louder when he sucked her aching pearl into his mouth, and then flicked it with his tongue.

His whiskers were leaving a delicious burn behind on her skin as he licked, sucked and kissed her, and the ever-building pressure bunched so hard, she exploded, screaming his name, not caring that the walls were incredibly thin and her neighbors no doubt heard her pleasure as though they were in the room with her.

When she came down, she realized Tomlin was still leisurely licking at her still spasming flesh, drinking from her.

"Tomlin?" She asked when he didn't seem in a hurry to leave his feast. Already she was growing needy of him again, and she wanted him inside her.

He looked up at her with such hunger, she gasped. His muscles bunched beneath his shirt, as he made his way up the bed, and he ripped the material open, popping buttons off, as he drew it from his shoulders and tossed it in the same direction her clothing had gone.

She stared at his bare chest and stomach, practically salivating. _God, he's perfect._ She found herself thinking again. It almost seemed unfair that a man should be so beautiful. _Females_ were supposed to be the fairer of the species. At least she got to be pleasured by such a man. That made it fair enough for her.

Again, the aching need for Tomlin settled hard between her legs, and she could no longer wait. She unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, freeing his erection, and pushed them down around his ankles where he kicked them off.

She couldn't help herself, even if she had truly wanted to, she wouldn't have been able to keep her hand at her side, instead of reaching out and to wrap her fingers around his length.

They both gasped at the contact.

She had no idea the skin would be so soft. She ran her finger over the end, capturing the drop of moisture there and rubbing it over the velvet skin. She was exploratory as she touched every considerable inch of him, loving the beauty of something she hadn't even found remotely appealing on other men.

Tomlin grabbed her wrists, and pulled his hips away.

She frowned, fought against his hold, still wanting to stroke him. She probably resembled a spoiled child who had gotten her favorite toy taken away. Pout in place and everything, but she had been enjoying herself.

When she followed the wonderful lines of his body, up to his face, she noticed every inch of him was clinched and tense.

"What's wrong?" Had she hurt him? She had seen whores handle a man's cock countless times and never had she seen the men in pain. Maybe she had done something wrong.

"If I allow you to touch me anymore, I will be of no more use to you tonight. I just need a minute, so I don't come like a teenager the second I'm inside of you."

_Oh, that's a much better reason than the one I came up with._ That one, her ego liked.

When Tomlin finally moved over her, settling between her legs, she fought a brief moment of nervousness that quickly passed when his velvet tip pressed against her core.

"I'm going to do this first part quick and get the pain over. Okay?" His voice was strained with desire, and September found pride in the fact that she had gotten him to this point.

She nodded. "I'm ready."

Tomlin took her mouth as he prepared himself at her entrance. With a hard deep thrust, he was insider her and the pain was forgotten almost immediately, as she accepted the fullness of having him within her.

He stayed perfectly still, probably trying to allow her to get comfortable with the feeling before he proceeded. Unfortunately, her need for him was immense, and she began rolling her hips, causing him to slowly move out then in.

If felt so good, she rolled harder, somehow knowing already that she was about to have an orgasm the likes of which she had never felt.

"God September. I'm never going to last like this." He said, his voice as strained as the delicious ropes of muscles running the length of his back, under her hands.

Grabbing her hips and holding them against the bed so they couldn't move, he started pumping in and out of her, gaining momentum as he went. She felt herself getting closer and closer to another explosion, with every stroke of his shaft along her inner walls.

When his beautiful blue eyes met hers, she careened over the edge of bliss, again screaming his name at the ceiling. As she spasmed around him, his body locked up hard. The cords in his neck and chest bunched, and his seed spilled inside her.

When his arms collapsed, he quickly rolled to his side, dragging her to him.

She knew they needed to clean up. They both had to be wearing the evidence of her given virginity, not to mention his completion, but she couldn't seem to dredge up the energy to pull herself away from his amazing arms, which were wrapped snuggly around her.

She sighed, completely satisfied and content. "Are you staying?"

" _Yeah_!" He said, like it was a completely stupid question. "I'm going to try to talk you into another round as soon as I recover."

Her head found a comfortable spot on his chest to lay as she snuggled her sated body into his. For the first time in a long time, she felt complete.

She might not have caught her mother's murderer yet, but with Tomlin here, holding her, she honestly couldn't picture a time when she had been happier. And if her eyes weren't so ridiculously heavy, she might have worried at how strong her feelings had gotten so fast, but her eyes closed and sleep came.

At some point during the night, Tomlin had cleaned them up and then pulled her back into his arms for the rest of the night, letting her sleep instead of going for "another round". The warmth of the sun creeping across her face convinced her it was time to open her eyes, and she was surprised to find Tomlin staring down at her.

"Hi." She said groggily.

"Good morning." His voice was deep and sexy from sleep and September almost laughed as her body started reacting immediately to him.

She shook her head and smiled as she stretched, enjoying the strange soreness of her body and the way his eyes watched her actions. "You were right. I don't feel like a whore at all."

He groaned when she arched her back. "You'll get used to it."

"Sex?" Now she was just teasing him, but it felt so good to be wanted by this man.

His eyes narrowed on her. He obviously realized what she was doing. "No. Me being right. It happens _all_ the time." He rolled on top of her, catching her wrists and securing them above her head.

She laughed, and arched her back once more, pressing her breasts into his chest. "Except when you argue with me."

He shook his head. "God you're beautiful." He was almost worshipful with his words, and because she was female, her heart drank in his compliment, adding it to the ever-growing stack of reasons she loved him.

Then he shoved into her. This time she felt nothing but complete...and pleasure. She felt lots and lots of pleasure.

Her poor neighbors.

Chapter Eight

September readjusted the device Tomlin had insisted she wear, where it was strapped to her thigh. It was supposed to transmit her voice and those around her to a device he had with him.

Apparently it worked much like the other contraption they used to communicate back and forth between the members of the Red Knights.

The bulky box strapped to the front of her upper leg, hidden beneath all her layers of skirts, wasn't the worst part of the device. It was the antenna they'd had to run from the box, up the rest of her thigh, between the cheeks of her bottom \- not comfortable at all - along her spine and up through the ridiculously elaborate hairstyle she'd had to don to hide it.

Fortunately, it wasn't hard metal except where it was shoved in the extravagant curls at the back of her head. Everywhere else, it was a flexible wire, so her movements weren't too encumbered.

She stepped away from the shadows of the saloon and out onto the plank walkway, heading in the direction of her apartment building, more than a little nervous about the abundant amount of shadows over Riverbridge.

He could be in any one of them, waiting for her. It would be so much easier if she knew... _anything_ about him.

She was almost to the front of her building, frowning at the odd sense of relief she was feeling that she hadn't been attacked, when nearly gagged at the revolting smell that punctured her senses. Death.

And then she felt the sting.

"What the..." She stumbled, suddenly unable to control her feet, legs... _Or anything else_ , she realized as the ground came at her fast and her arms weren't where she expected them to be to keep her face form hitting the dirt.

_What's happening?_ Her brain was getting foggy, and just before the darkness took hold, the somewhat distorted face of the mayor floated in front of her.

Tomlin was momentarily confused when September stumbled and fell. The sound of her hitting the ground through the listening device on her thigh was loud enough to have him cringing.

He adjusted the volume and looked back to her limp figure on the ground. Why had she fallen? That wasn't part of the plan. She hadn't even thrown her arms out to catch herself.

Another figure stepped away from the shadows to check on her. And Tomlin nearly groaned to see the Mayor Daniel Jones bending over her. There was no way the murderer was going to come out and take the bait with another man around, and he wasn't sure he could take another fishing mission, using September. When she allowed the mayor to lift her and carry her to her building, Tomlin was more than a little cranky.

Yes, it would probably be better all the way around if she looked helpless and in her own room ready to be butchered, but her changing the plans in the middle of a mission was not something someone like him took well.

And he wanted to be able to see her.

When it came to September, he wanted to have as many senses on her as possible. She wasn't just anybody. She was _his_. The moments passed slowly as Tomlin's anger grew.

He heard noises that sounded like a bed being jostled and then there was a very convincing moan from September.

"Hello September." The mayor said quietly.

A foreboding started in Tomlin's gut and worked its way out from there.

There was something wrong with the normally pleasant tone of the mayor's voice that put Tomlin on edge. His words came out almost a growl, and there was a layer of contempt, that actually had Tomlin a little panicky.

"Do you like my darts?" The mayor asked with a tight laugh.

Tomlin froze completely, terrified at what he was hearing.

"I made the tranquilizer myself. It's a very short-life paralytic. I don't like it when I have to wait around for hours on the body to regain function...and feeling. I'd say we have about fifteen minutes before you're fully recovered."

Tomlin jumped from the chair he had placed on the roof of the saloon. He grabbed the mobile pack and thanked God he had decided to charge his unit along with September's earlier as the girls were fixing her hair around the antenna.

"What's wrong?" Evers asked when Tomlin's panicked motions caught his attention.

"He's got her." He didn't even look in Evers' direction as he secured his harness and walked to the edge of the roof.

"But she's with the mayor." It wasn't a surprise that Evers' was more than a little confused. He hadn't heard the disturbing conversation that had taken place.

"That's _not_ the mayor." Tomlin jumped twisting in the air to catch himself with his feet against the side of the building, then shoving off again and feeding rope through.

When he hit the ground, he was surprised to see Evers already half way down the building. Kid was a fast learner.

September frowned at the semi-familiar room around her, and the man standing next to the bed. "Mayor Jones? But, how is that possible? You've been here in town all five years. You couldn't possibly have killed all those women." But even as she said the words, she realized the features of the face in front of her were only partially familiar.

Whoever this man was, he wasn't the mayor.

He smiled, but there was no friendliness in his face. "Thankfully, I am not my brother." He cringed as if the thought of being the mayor was somehow more disgusting than being the brutal killer he was. "So you've heard of my work? Isn't it unfortunate women not longer understand the importance of virtue?"

Brothers? Probably twins. That explained why seeing the mayor always made her uneasy, and why nobody ever noticed when he disappeared and then came back. They would have all just assumed it was Daniel they were talking too or seeing around town. And the family _was_ terribly rich, so he could run around from place to place without worrying running out of money.

It also explained why over the past few years, the mayor's soul hadn't been completely repulsive to her as this man's was at the moment.

Wait, what did he say?

With sudden and unwanted clarity, the significance of _that_ word had her closing her eyes in despair. "Virtue?" The V. The hated V stood for virtue?

"Yes." He said, as though he were completely disgusted. "I continue to have to take away the parts of them that cause them to abandon their virtue."

She was regaining feeling in her body quickly, and nausea settled in her stomach at both the repugnant odor of his blackened soul, and his unbelievable reasoning.

"I thought you were different September." He continued as she battled to keep the rolling and pitching of her stomach under control, at the moment she wouldn't be able to lean over the bed, and she would probably drown in her own vomit. "I actually loved you as much as I loved her you know. But in the end, you both disappointed me."

She swallowed hard managing to work her throat despite the bile and the lump that formed when she realized what the deranged man was telling her. "My mother."

Tomlin had been right.

"Yes, your mother." He smiled wistfully and she gagged, almost losing her control. "She was so beautiful, and I loved her so much. I gave her so many chances to redeem herself, to stop having sex with every man who came through town, but she wouldn't and in the end, I couldn't overlook her sins anymore."

"What about the other women?" She closed her eyes, fighting tears. Her heart actually ached. Her mother had charmed everyone. It was unfortunate that everyone _included_ an insane murderer.

"Disgusting isn't it?" He asked. Yeah, but they probably weren't talking about the same thing. "In all these years, your mother's replacements have never been able to say no to the temptations of the world. Every one of them succumbed in one way or another to their sin of choice."

_How sad for him._ She thought sarcastically. Imperfect people falling victim to temptation. Who knew?

He shook his head like he was genuinely perplexed by all of it. "I really thought you were different. Even when I was watching the other three in town, my mind kept wondering back to you. So sweet and kind, and your eyes never strayed to the men on the streets. Your clothing is always modest and I've never even heard a foul word fall from your beautiful mouth." He sighed.

Obviously, he hadn't seen the heated looks she had been shooting in Tomlin's direction since he first arrived, or the outfit she wore when she was running or flying around town as the Scarlet Angel, and she was pretty sure she had threatened to hand John Williams by his cock.

"At first, I thought I was somehow disrespecting Joanne by thinking the thoughts I was about you, but I finally realized that she would like for me to take care of what was hers. To bring you into an environment where you could be kept from the disgusting world around you." His face changed suddenly. Going from almost euphoric, to a hateful scowl.

"But then you disappointed me September. I could hear you last night, having intercourse with that marshal, through the walls."

She gasped. He'd heard them through the walls. "You were my neighbor the whole time."

That explained why the room looked almost familiar.

"Yes. Even before I realized I needed you so much, I couldn't seem to stay away from you. But you ruined it! I would go kill that marshal, but I actually feel sorry for him. There isn't a man alive who could fight your charms. I find it just as hard to keep myself from taking you as I did with your mother. Such beautiful women shouldn't exist."

She had no doubt he intended to make it so that she didn't. "If your thoughts are so perverted, why do you kill these women for the same thing?"

She was starting to move passed terrified and sad into pissed, but she managed to sound bored.

"I am not the same!" He shouted. "I have enough control to keep myself from doing the act that would compromise my virtue. They do not."

"But you raped those women. How can you say that you have any sexual control at all?" He looked at her, completely horrified. "I did not have sex with those women. My virtue is completely intact."

The idea of rape hadn't put that look on his face. It had been the implication that he could have possibly done something that would impair his precious _virtue_.

Man, that word was going to make her sick anytime anyone said it after this night, but at least his ridiculous outlook on...that word, had saved those women from at least one horror before they died.

Her eyes narrowed. "So, it's okay to be without virtue, as long as it's in your mind?" She clenched her fists, making her knuckles ache.

_Wait!_ She could move her hands.

"Don't anger me September." His voice was more controlled, but the anger was deeper. He liked his power, almost as much as he liked his _virtue_.

Well, too bad.

"Why not?" She yelled. "I'm pretty damn pissed. Why shouldn't you be?"

His eyes narrowed, but his voice remained calm. "You were so close. I thought maybe I had found my bride at last, and then we could enjoy each other as married couples do, without tainting ourselves."

She laughed, but there was no humor in the sound, instead it was filled with anger and hatred. "You know, I almost feel sorry for you, you psychotic bastard. Not only are you a complete lunatic, but you've spent your entire life being disappointed with human nature. Sucks for you that you're _surrounded_ by it. Oh, and Mr. Virtuous, I should point out, that though you think keeping those dirty little thoughts inside your head, while others act on them somehow makes you untainted or more godly than them, maybe you should pick up a bible sometime. It's pretty clear on the matter of murder...and judgment."

He lunged then, obviously losing his precious control. He must have forgotten how quick the tranquilizer wore off, because as his hands settled on her throat, she popped him in the nose with the heel of her hand and a surprise gasp flew from his mouth.

He didn't release her neck, but blood dripped down his lip and into his mouth from his nose.

September thought she heard voices, but the position she was in, was making the blood rush through her ears, and they sounded muffled.

Tomin nearly panicked when September's room turned up empty. The things being said in whatever room they _were_ in, didn't help in the least. The man was indeed completely insane, and he had September vulnerable.

All he was getting from the shadows was that the man had traveled down this hall with September in his arms. His ability never seemed to work as well without a source of natural light, and there were no windows in the hall for the moon to shine through.

His only clues on how to find her were that she was definitely in the same building and possibly in one of the neighboring rooms.

When the conversation tuned angry, he knew he had run out of time to think.

"Evers, you take the room on the left, I'll take the one on the right." They were going to have to do this at the same time, so the lunatic who had September wouldn't see it coming. They had one chance.

When they were both in front of their doors, Tomlin used his finger to signal the count. _One...two...three..._

They burst through the doors hard.

Tomlin's banged against the wall of a room, empty except for a few furnishings. No September.

"Down here." Evers yelled, already aiming his gun at whatever he had discovered.

Tomlin ran, the adrenaline flowing through his system making his speed feel almost super-human. He made it to the room just as September used the heel of her hand to break the evil twin's nose.

"Get away from her." His rage moved him across the room, and had him slamming the disgusting man into the wall, not caring at all that the blood trekking down the man's face, dripped on his hand.

It was only his need to make sure September was in the perfect condition he had left her in earlier, that kept him from pressing a gun to the man's temple and pulling the trigger.

"Evers, do you think you can take care of this?" He looked back at the young man whose face showed no signs of terror, even though it was impossible for him not to be scared.

Tomlin was.

Evers, young as he was, was turning out to be quite invaluable. He had accepted the existence of all the gadgets Tomlin had pulled out for this, without a single question, just stiff nods that said he would do whatever it was that Tomlin wanted. Accepting that this was too dangerous a situation to be throwing question after question at him.

Evers had also shown signs of extraordinary strength and endurance as they had worked to get to this point.

Tomlin might have found himself _two_ new recruits.

"Yes sir." Evers said grabbing the mayor's twin and jerking his arms behind his back, while Tomlin ran to the bed September was laid out on.

She was already working to sit up and though she had some dirt on her face where she had fallen on it, she looked completely fine, and as beautiful and perfect as ever.

He pulled her into his arms and held her as tightly as he could without crushing her.

She returned his embrace for a moment and then pulled back, glaring over his shoulder at the demon Evers was leading out to the room. "Hey _Virtuous_! Maybe the marshal will find you a cell with a big strong man who will protect your _virtue_ while you wait to dangle from a rope."

Chapter Nine

"That's my girl." Tomlin said in her ear as he pulled her back into his hard chest. "How are you?"

She laughed, feeling almost lighthearted. "I feel like I've lost a thousand pounds."

September had secretly hoped for something like this for five years, but she had never actually expected it to happen. It seemed strange to feel happy about anything after what she had just been through, but the moment was amazingly bittersweet.

Tomlin kissed her nose, then pulled back to give her a stern look. "Did you have to taunt him? I was seriously terrified."

"First I was too pissed to care about anything." A strand of disheveled hair fell into his eye, but he was too busy rubbing his hands over her arms to take care of it himself, so she reached up and brushed it aside, letting her hand run along his cheek to cup his jaw. "But then I remember that angry people make mistakes, so I calmed down and realized, _angry people make mistakes._ "

She looked back toward the door where Evers had taken the man whose first name she didn't even know, but had affected her life in such a huge way for five years. "Will you tell Evers thank you for me. I didn't get to talk to him before he left."

"Yeah, I'll tell him." He pulled her into a standing position, holding on to her until she was stable enough to stand on her own. "So...what's on the agenda for tonight?"

She smiled and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. If that wasn't hedging... "If you're asking if I'm too worried about my _virtue_ to spend the night with you again, the answer is simple. Take me home. Yours or mine. It doesn't matter."

He laughed and threw an arm around her waist so she could lean on him as they walked to the door. "That's exactly what I meant actually. Come on, we'll break in _my_ bed."

They made it to his apartment within minutes waiting only until they were on the other side of a closed door before their clothes started hitting the floor.

She kissed him with the force of her mangled emotions, knowing she couldn't possibly hide her bittersweet elation or her love for the man who was holding her just as tightly as she was holding him.

"I need you Tomlin."

He backed her toward the bed. "I know sweet. I've got you."

She was amazed at how gentle he was with her even though she was in some kind of craze, clinging to him with a fierce need she didn't quite understand.

Her need for him was far more than sexual. She needed him to fill the empty hole in her heart with his light now that the weight of injustice had been lifted from the organ.

She was now free to go anywhere, do anything. Something she hadn't even allowed herself to dream about, and all she wanted to do was lose herself in Tomlin's arms. Anywhere, as long as she was with Tomlin.

But now that his job here was done, would he still want her around? Sure, there was a chance they'd be working together, but would they still be lovers? Friends?

When the back of her knees hit the bed, she grabbed his shoulders and spun them both around so that he fell on his back on the bed and she landed on top of him.

This time, she was taking control. She'd be damned if she let Tomlin get away without showing him what a quick learner she was.

She lifted herself off him and bit his peck an inch to the right of his nipple. He jerked, clearly not expecting her to become so aggressive, but he groaned in encouragement, so she licked where she bit and over to the tempting little nipple.

She smiled against his skin when his hands fisted in the sheets at his sides. No wonder Tomlin hadn't wanted to give up his all over taste testing, it was almost as pleasurable as being the one getting tasted.

She discovered quickly that she was obviously a biter, or at least a nibbler. She bit, licked and kissed every ridge of his stomach, careful to just barely miss his erection with her tongue more than once when she reached his bellybutton.

Her mouth was practically watering with the need to have him in between her lips, and September just wasn't patient enough to wait.

She licked the tip of him, tasting the salty tear at the end, and Tomlin jerked again.

September looked up at his face, keeping her eyes on his as she opened her mouth and slipped him in as far as she could. At Tomlin's groan, she smiled around him and drew him out slowly, running her tongue around the ridge just below the tip, then sucking him deep again.

Tomlin's hand found her hair, and though she could tell he was trying to be gentle, he pulled the raven locks slightly as she sucked him, his hips unable to stay on the bed.

He was losing control!

Tomlin leaned up and grabbed her shoulders, dragging her up his body, and making her straddle his hips. Before she even had time to balance herself, he was thrusting up into her, making her head fall back on her shoulders, and unintelligible words to burst out of her mouth.

Tomlin Ripley out of control was definitely something she could get used to.

The climax hit her hard and fast, and her nails dug in to the skin of his chest.

He was there with her, and his body tensed, his fingers digging into her hips as his orgasm hit him hard.

She collapsed on top of him, too tired to roll off his body, and when his arms came around her, she got the impression he didn't want her to move.

She pressed little kissed to his chest, breathing his sent that always managed to comfort her in so many ways.

"Tomlin?"

"Mm hmm?" She like the drowsy tone of his voice as it rumbled against her cheek through his chest. He sounded comfortable and sexy.

"Thank you for having enough faith in me to not fight me too much on all that." That hadn't actually been what she was planning to say, but she was strangely nervous.

That's going to be the hardest part about being around you. Not protecting you when my desire to keep you safe is so strong." He said, changing her nervousness to excitement. Was he planning on a future with her? "But I know you're capable of taking care of yourself, so I'll try to keep as much of that protective instinct corralled as possible."

"Tomlin?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you." She said quietly, still a little worried she might have misinterpreted his meaning.

He laughed and squeezed her even tighter to him. "I love you too my beautiful Scarlet Angel."

The next day, she found herself standing next to Tomlin, in front of the town preacher.

Everyone in town, aside from Evers, was surprised to hear that the two were actually getting married, having never even seen them together for more than a couple minutes at a time.

When the ceremony was over, Evers came up and shook hands with Tomlin. He tried to do the same to September, but she threw her arms around his neck, and went up on tippy-toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you again Evers. I don't know what we would have done without you."

His young handsome face flushed bright red as he nodded, and then he hurriedly walked away.

"You know, I was thinking about asking him to join the Red Knights." Tomlin said as he watched Evers make his way through the small crowd of well wishers.

How the entire town had managed to find out about, and show up to their impromptu wedding, neither of them had been able to figure out, but nearly everyone was there.

"I think that is a wonderful idea." She said smiling up into the beautiful blue-green eyes of her husband. _Husband!_ "His soul is so clean and pure, he is destined to be involved in protection of some sort."

"His soul?" Tomlin's raised eyebrow showed his disbelief.

She didn't take offence. If she hadn't had this ability all of her life, she might laugh at the notion of souls herself. "Yes. I don't really know how to say this, but I have this strange ability to...well, read souls. I know it's hard to believe, but I can usually tell when somebody is good or bad. That's why I was always leery of the mayor, because when I was younger, I had seen his brother, sensed his disgusting soul, and assumed they were the same person."

Tomlin's forehead crinkled. He hesitated for a moment with his mouth opening and closing like he was going to say something. "I actually have an ability that isn't normal as well." He finally said. "When the lighting is right, and too much time hasn't passed, I can sense what has happened in a room by reading the shadows."

"Really?" She seemed interested, not distrusting.

"It makes me pretty good investigating." Then he frowned. "Usually."

She reached up and pressed the pad of her thumb against the creases of his forehead. "I like your soul. It smells clean, but it has an interesting spice. Of course now that I know you, I know it's because you are a good man, but a huge pain in the ass."

"September Ripley! I can't believe you would say something so hateful about your loving, wonderful husband." He said with mock incredulity.

She smiled. "September Ripley." She said blissfully. "I think I'm going to like being Mrs. Ripley."

"I'm going to _love_ having Mrs. Ripley in my bed." He pulled her into his arms, not caring that the whole town was probably watching the heat rise between them.

"Let's get your wife home so she can enjoy her honeymoon, shall we?"

"Let's"

