Page 27

Because normally, Hanna stayed as far away from the powerbrokers of the town as she could. She had her father’s legacy to uphold, and as a young woman that was twice as hard. She had told herself early on that there would be no whiff of corruption or favor exchanges in her department, and until that week, she had believed she’d created a culture of honesty and justice.

More than that, Hanna knew she didn’t have in it in her to keep the peace where Ralston was concerned. Bryce Iverson was a monster, a bully of the highest order, but she was familiar with men like him. Every cop and every woman in the world knew what to look for when it came to people like Bryce Iverson.

But Ralston was something else entirely.

Nicco seemed to sense her sudden distress and wrapped his arm around her waist, dragging her closer. Such was the nature of Ralston’s power that Hanna barely registered his warm touch on her skin or the scent of leather and oil that clung to him like a bike to a winding mountain road. She was too focused on the man stepping up to them in the secluded corner of the hallway near the balcony.

“Niccolo.” Nicco stuck out his hand, and Hanna didn’t miss the way he stepped slightly in front of her, as if putting up a barrier between her and the man coming toward them. “I’m the lucky son of a bitch who gets to be this beautiful woman’s date.”

“You do look lovely tonight,” Ralston said to Hanna, holding her gaze for a moment too long before finally shaking Nicco’s hand. Despite her distraction at his presence, Hanna was deeply grateful that Nicco was the one by her side and not Ash—not because Ash wouldn’t have behaved himself…

But because I wouldn’t have.

“Magnus, I’m surprised to see you in town.”

Ralston laughed, hearty and endearing. It was the way she figured a wax creature might laugh, if they were looking to appear human and non-threatening.

“They do let me out of the church on occasion,” he remarked, as if so deeply amused by her pointed comments.

But when it came to Magnus Ralston III, it was all part of the act, the amusement, the polite compliments, the familiarity. He even looked the part, a good strong American boy, with dark brown hair fading to gray at the temples, bright blue eyes, and an over-white smile. He was handsome and charming and confident.

It made sense why so many people were drawn to his side.

But Hanna knew the truth.

“After all, how else would we tend to our flock, if not to meet them where they stray…”

Nicco cocked his head to the side. “Our. So, you are both in the church, then?”

As if he didn’t know.

Ralston grinned. “Bryce is one of my biggest supporters. He understands the value of giving back, what with his good fortune being a gift from the Almighty above.”

Bryce nodded, and it was a remarkable thing how quickly he transformed from the dangerous, cutthroat business tycoon with secrets of his own to the disciple hanging onto Ralston’s every word.

“Truly, we are a blessed town here in Bitterroot, to have such a voice of God,” Iverson murmured. “Preacher here keeps us safe.”

Nicco smiled, the kind of smile that didn’t let anything through, and she couldn’t deny that it impressed her, his ability to play the part. “Bitterroot seems like a great town. Can I ask what exactly you need protection from?”

“Why, the changing of the world, of course,” Ralston replied, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk. “There are a great many things that threaten our way of life, a good moral way of life, even here in our small corner of the world. I see it as a…great honor…to protect my flock. Not, of course, that our brave Sheriff isn’t doing her very best.” He narrowed in on Niccolo. “Perhaps we might see your face at our next sermon.”

Nicco gave him another bland smile. “Perhaps you will.”

Ralston, clearly pleased with the way the conversation had gone, turned back to Iverson. “Our guests from down south have arrived. They’re looking to speak with you.”

He glanced at Hanna, and she saw the mask slip, for a fraction of a second, saw the man falter from his high pedestal. “Sheriff.”

Hanna managed a tight smile. “Preacher.”

And then the two men were stepping away, out of the hall and back into the main room of the enormous building. Hanna watched them go, and with every step Iverson and Ralston took, the noose around her neck started to loosen just a little, until she could take in small sips of air against the fury and panic.

“Outside,” Nicco muttered in her ear. “One step in front of the other, Leone.” He half-pushed her, half-guided her to the balcony, and shut the door behind them. Hanna heard a soft click of a lock, but it sounded like it was far off in the distance, a million miles away.

“Hanna, look at me.”

The air was cool on her bare arms, but Hanna welcomed the chilly bite, the only thing keeping her from losing herself to the injustice and anger of it all.

“Hanna, look at me. Now.”