Wanted: Fevered or Alive Read online

  Wanted: Fevered or Alive

  Heather Long

  Contents

  Wanted: Fevered or Alive

  Series So Far

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Heather Long

  Copyright © 2014 by Heather Long

  Cover by Brandy Walker

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ISBN: 978-1-311-07631-1

  Wanted: Fevered or Alive

  Meet Jason Kane. The third son, the secretive one, the keeper of lies—he’s driven by personal demons he can’t outrun. A man on a mission, he wants what he can never have.

  * * *

  When the spirit fever struck a town, a village, or an outpost, it left few—if any—

  survivors. The white man blamed the Indian, saying they used their mojo on them. The Indians blamed the white man for angering the spirits. The survivors knew it didn’t matter. The Fevered were forever changed.

  * * *

  Threats overshadow everything they are trying to build…

  * * *

  Jason’s always been the outsider, the one with dreams and aspirations to leave Dorado. Rising from the ashes is bittersweet, but he keeps his grief private. His enemies know where he is and his family wishes he was gone, so he throws himself into building the town they love even as his heart remains decimated.

  * * *

  She left to pursue a dream and returns to a nightmare.

  * * *

  Olivia Stark grew up in Dorado, the town darling despite the severe handicap of blindness. When Jed Kane offered to pay for her admission and expenses at a special school for the blind back east, her parents sent her away. The four years gone from Dorado were a struggle, but nothing can compare to returning home to find everyone—everything—she knew in ashes.

  * * *

  Conspiracy, controversy, and craving block him at every turn.

  * * *

  When Olivia arrives in the half-built town, Jason’s world turns upside down. Her grief rends his soul, but he rejects her lest anyone discover what she means to him. Desperate to send her away, he’s not prepared for her steadfast refusal. Olivia’s waited for Jason most of her life and she won’t leave him now.

  * * *

  His desire. Her determination. Their destiny.

  Series So Far

  Marshal of Hel Dorado

  Brave are the Lonely

  Micah & Mrs. Miller

  A Fistful of Dreams

  Raising Kane

  Wanted: Fevered or Alive

  Wild and Fevered

  The Quick and the Fevered

  A Man Called Wyatt

  Sign up for Heather’s Newsletter.

  Foreword

  Dibs.

  Probably it sounds strange to call dibs on a fictional character, but if you’re the type of person who doesn’t understand crushing on book boyfriends, you and I have nothing in common and you should just skip to the book anyway. For those of you who’ve clutched a book to your chest, tears streaming down your face while you smile one of those shaky smiles, and the world still spins around you, seemingly unaware that your entire universe just shifted on its axis because of the words on the page—the following is for you.

  I’ve been lucky enough to claim the title of crit partner for Heather Long for a few years. To make a long story short, this means I read All the Books. I’ve had favorite stories, favorite characters, just like all of the other readers. Out of them all, I admit I’m fascinated with the Fevered Hearts world.

  You see, I love fairy tales. I love happily ever after and I love when magical elements are dappled into the story like chocolate covered unicorns dancing in my brain. In this series, we get to read all that is great about fairy tales—the magic, the moral, the danger—set against the almost contrary background of the wild, Wild West.

  But Jason? Not everyone understood why I called dibs on him back before we got to this book. Okay, his eyes glow. Whoopdeedoo. He’s the shut off brother, the isolated one, as frozen as his secondary gift. Long had me, though, and I became fascinated when she told me he could hear everything.

  How many times are we talking to someone and they’re thinking about their laundry? Wondering if that’s a zit on our head or a bug bite? Just hoping we shut up because, wow, nothing we have to say is remotely of interest and perhaps they’re serving ice cream after dinner? Basically, we’re far meaner in our minds, where we think we’re alone, than we’d ever verbalize. We think terribly cruel things all the time—and Jason could hear All of It.

  Add to that his isolation from his brothers, the sheer animosity… Kid could feel people’s disappointment and that shattered him. Jason? He could hear word for word just exactly what everyone thought of him.

  I didn’t know what kept him going. I didn’t know why he bothered while knowing all of that.

  I had to read more.

  And that’s the cool thing about the Fevered Hearts. I knew Long would deliver the answers to all of my questions while blending in the storylines of the other characters we’ve grown to love. I knew she’d show me a family who will do anything for each other, even sacrifice their own happiness. I knew she’d meld magic with love and humor with the dire consequences of the era she set this series in.

  If you love this series already, I’m preaching to the choir. If you don’t love it, I will say that when you read this story and fall in love with Jason, please remember one very important fact—

  I started out this message to you by calling dibs.

  Virginia Nelson

  Amazon bestselling author

  Books for sale. Snark for free.

  Chapter 1

  Jason, Dorado, Spring 1852

  Though Jason maintained his silence, the dreamwalker—Buck—wasn’t deterred. “I want to know what your reasons are. I don’t figure anyone has asked you for them. I can’t promise I’ll understand, but I won’t walk away. I’ll even keep the secrets for you.”

  Buck’s visit surprised him, but the level of sincerity in his tone left Jason uncertain. He took a moment to study the movement in town. They’d had new arrivals in the last few days, including two brothers and their sister from far north on the Red River. The McKennas had taken one look at the town under construction and inquired about staying on. The brothers applied to manage the livery stable, but—through all their negotiations—their sister, Jenny, hadn’t said a word.

  Running…we’re never going to stop running. The utterly hopeless thought had been the most present in the young woman’s head. One so plaintive, lonely and profound… Jason had given them permission and arranged a contract on a home. They’d draw a salary for their work in the livery, a portion to be withheld each month until the full balance of the materials for their home were recouped.

  The McKennas fled something terrible, but they bore no threatening thoughts or ideas of causing trouble. They wanted sanctuary and the brothers wanted their sister safe. In fact, her safety rode the surface of their thoughts so loudly; Jason had exerted every effort to keep his
focus on the brothers and off their sister to reduce any sense of danger. Jason knew exactly how Jed Kane would react, so Jason made the same choice. He gave them sanctuary.

  Buck’s presence continued to weigh on him, but he took time to consider why the dreamwalker chose today of all days to seek him out. The lazy sound of hammers striking interspersed other building noises including the use of a handsaw and, further away, the mill where they cut fresh boards for building.

  “You don’t like me.” He relented, finally, because the Morning Star brother seemed in no hurry to go away.

  “I don’t really know you.” The brutal honesty in Buck’s response startled Jason. “But what I know about you—what I’ve witnessed for myself—and the risks you took for Delilah, earned you my respect. You didn’t have to help her and, while I may not have appreciated it at the time, you didn’t have to help me either.”

  In fact, Buck had wanted to kill him on more than one occasion. Jason had no illusions about how precarious a position he’d put himself in each and every time he’d stepped between the couple. He did not regret his choice, however, not when he’d been the one to encourage Delilah to run—not when it had been his fault she’d ended up in that hellhole where Kid found her. Deep was the debt he owed the siren. Her passing resemblance to—no. Jason blockaded the thought.

  Seemingly in no hurry to go anywhere, the stubborn weight of the dreamwalker’s attention pressed in on him. Jason locked gazes with the man and sifted through his surface thoughts. What did he want? All he found was an echo of the words Buck had spoken. He’d told Delilah they needed to address the Jason issue. They owed him, but it wasn’t about debt. It was about friendship, brotherhood, and like didn’t enter into it. As if aware of Jason’s skimming, Buck replayed the conversation with his siren-wife.

  Humbled by the readiness of Delilah’s agreement and Buck’s directness, he broke the connection and scrubbed a hand over his face. The buzz of noise he used to keep others out of his head drifted closed like a curtain. He couldn’t afford mental blindness, not while keeping watch over Dorado, but he needed a moment to gather his thoughts. “I don’t understand you Morning Stars.”

  The dreamwalker grinned. “I say the same thing about your family.”

  Amused, despite himself, Jason paced away to touch one of the main struts in the framework. His humor evaporated. Today was the anniversary of the day he’d met her—first realized what she was to him. Once upon a time, he’d treasured this time each year since he could take out his memories from the box he’d buried them in and enjoy the feelings she’d aroused in him.

  Memories now tainted by bitter regret and loss. “I don’t want them to finish this building and I keep fighting the urge to burn it down.”

  “Why?” Surprise echoed in the question, but Jason didn’t turn his attention away from the wood. The roughness of it scraped against his fingers. Unfinished.

  She’d been unfinished, dammit. It wasn’t fair.

  “Because in the old town this is where Olivia lived. In the quarters above the store. She lived there with her parents.” Even saying her name cut him. Why the hell had he said it? He’d kept her name locked away with every other valued memory, barricading it into a space in his mind where no other person or thought could touch it.

  The soft sound of Buck’s footsteps were Jason’s only warning before a hand came down on his shoulder. The dreamwalker said nothing and, for once, his thoughts were painfully simple.

  I’m sorry for your loss.

  Ruthlessly, he shored up that mental wall, sealing away the memories. “We hardly have time for sentimentality—the town will need a general store.” One devoid of Olivia’s laughter and sweet smile. One occupied by another family. He rejected the idea the moment it formed.

  “It can wait. We do regular enough supply runs to San Antonio and we can have them haul more in as needed.” Alarm punched a note in Buck’s voice and Jason shrugged off his grip.

  “We’ve waited months. Winter was brutal enough. We need to return a measure of normalcy.” It would help the children, although the youngest ones like Cate and Ben adapted to the changes more readily. Jason had been only a little older the Cate the first time he heard the thoughts of others. Children adapted, but it didn’t make their situation easier.

  “Do your brothers know?”

  Frost chilled his blood. He wanted to ignore the concern in the other man’s eyes and reject the offer of sympathy. Grief strained too many years of rigid control—tested his hard-earned peace of mind. Enough. He couldn’t afford self-pity. “No, and I would consider it a personal favor if you would keep what I said to yourself.”

  “That’s an insult.” Buck folded his arms. “Though I have to wonder if you understand how much of an insult?”

  The clap of the mental box finally snapping shut still ringing in his ears, Jason frowned. “Conversations with my family about me haven’t gone well as of late.”

  “Agreed. I didn’t come here to spy on you for your brothers. I came because it was the right thing to do and you need a friend.”

  No. Friends could be killed. Families could be torn apart. They were all far better off if he remained alone. Better to shut down any offer that might put the dreamwalker in the line of fire. “Thank you for being concerned and thank you for not telling them.” The words were awkward, but he did appreciate the sentiment.

  Buck said nothing, his frown deepening. “You’re grieving. You’re allowed to grieve. We all need support. There’s no shame in that.”

  “It is not shame—” Awareness of another sliced his attention away and Jason strode through the unfinished shop towards the boardwalk. He scanned, relentlessly touching every mind in his range. He’d sensed him.

  “Jas—” The dreamwalker cut off at Jason’s upraised hand.

  It took all of his concentration to scan in this manner, skimming the surface and not pressing any deeper. The otherness hovered on the edge of his senses, like a word half-forgotten, but he knew he was there. Dammit… Scouting visually, he gazed towards the eastern perimeter of the town—away from the construction. The mental signature seemed stronger, but it faded too rapidly for him to hold.

  “What is it?” Buck shadowed his steps and pitched his voice low, damn near close to a murmur.

  “The doppelganger.” Ryan. They had a name for the Fevered who’d traveled with Harrison Miller and his gang. Jason’s memories of the man, discolored by Harrison’s brutal torture and attempts to break his mind, were hazy at best. He knew every mind that should be in Dorado and the other stood out.

  “Close?”

  “Not anymore.” Even the faint trace he’d held onto and tried to use to track the other back had dissipated. “What the hell does he want?”

  The answer continued to elude him. Miller was dead. All of the men with Miller, save for Ryan, had also been killed. So why did the doppelganger stay? What did he hope to accomplish?

  “Is he still after Delilah? Or maybe Jo?” Tension threaded the words.

  Frustrated, Jason blew out a breath. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. He can’t possibly think he can steal Delilah. Controlling her would be impossible unless he knocked her unconscious. MacPherson is…” Please God. “…hundreds of miles north. He couldn’t keep her unconscious for that long.”

  “Jo’s gift is animals. She speaks to them. What good would she be against someone like that?” Buck’s scowl deepened. “Or worse, what if it’s not capture he’s going for?”

  “It doesn’t matter what he wants with them, he won’t get to them.” The cold in his blood iced the statement. “He cannot cross onto the ranch…” Because if he could, Ryan would have already done it. If Jason could pin the bastard down, he could break into his mind and find out what he wanted.

  Then he’d kill him and end the threat once and for all.

  “We’re still not sure the barrier’s working.” Buck studied the workers around them, his gaze thoughtful and assessing. “Wyatt crossed onto the ra
nch without invitation.”

  “I am aware.” Not that he had an answer. Touching Wyatt’s mind? Not a mistake Jason would ever repeat. Blackness, brutal and swift, had punched through him and shut him down so hard, it had taken him days to comprehend even the split-second of the thoughts he’d touched. Suppressing a shudder, he turned away from that memory willingly. “Your eldest brother is a force to be reckoned with. We can’t be sure he wasn’t affected by the barrier and didn’t just ignore the pain. You said it was pain, right?”

  “Pain, loud—like bees stinging you over and over again.” Buck grimaced. “Miserable feeling.”

  “Would it bother him?” He didn’t want to say Wyatt’s name, though he had a far better understanding of the awe the Morning Star siblings held for their eldest brother.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think much bothers Wyatt.” He wasn’t looking at Jason, his gaze remained steady on the workers. “You know all of these guys? No way they could be an imposter?”

  “I won’t say impossible, but it’s highly improbable. I haven’t exactly been circumspect in scanning them whenever I see them. I know every mind here—check them periodically to make sure nothing has changed about them.” The oddness of discussing the idea wasn’t lost on him. He so rarely discussed his abilities—only once did I make that mistake and never again—but Buck already knew what he could do so he saw no harm.

  “What if when the guy doppelgangs he takes on the same kind of thoughts?”

  “Doppelgangs?” Humor spiked at the word.

  “Well, whatever Ryan does.” Buck’s expression darkened. “What would you call it?”