Nalini Singh - The Magical Christmas Cat

"Why don't you go home, before the storm hits," Haley sug­gested. "It's only another hour before closing, and I can take care of that myself."

"Or that handsome Noble Chavin, should he arrive before clos­ing," Patricia teased her. "When do you think he's going to get up the nerve actually to do more than follow you home every night?"

"With Noble, who knows." Haley turned away from her friend, tucked the keys to Patricia's car in her purse, and hid her expres­sion.

Noble, unknown to the curious, wasn't courting her in any way, and she knew it. He was watching her, just as breeds from Sanctu­ary often watched her. Just to be on the safe side, she had been told after she had told Callan Lyons and Jonas Wyatt about the meeting that had taken place in the library room of Sanctuary the month before.

Jonas had promised her it was a precaution only, but that pre­caution still had the power to make her mouth dry with fear.

"I think I'll head home early then," Patricia decided, as she moved behind the counter and pulled her coat on. She flipped her shoulder-length gray-and-brown hair over the stiff black collar and stared back at Haley worriedly. "You're sure you don't mind about the truck?"

"As long as you don't scratch her," Haley reminded her, but her smile was quick. Patricia was excessively careful with everything, no matter to whom it belonged.

"Should I throw a quilt over her before I go to bed?" Patricia laughed.

"If you don't mind. And don't forget the pillows for her tires," she reminded her playfully.

Patricia rolled her eyes as she grabbed her purse and headed for the door. "I'll be sure to remember both," the assistant teased her. "Perhaps I should park her where she can watch television as well."

Haley laughed. Okay, so she loved her truck. Everyone teased her about it.

As Patricia left the library, Haley moved from behind the coun­ter, picked up the remote, and flipped the news on again. There was all that fat fluffy stuff headed her way. Piles and piles of snow. A snowman in her yard, the Christmas lights around her house twin­kling against it, it was going to be the best Christmas ever.

A smile was curving her lips when the world exploded around her. The blast filled the air, glass shattered as a wave of heat knocked her from her feet and flung her several feet away to where the chil­dren's reading nook was sectioned off. She bounced over the low shelves, cried out in shock and pain, and crumpled on the floor as a wash of red seemed to fill the library.

Sirens were howling. Something red was flashing, flickering and the scent of burning paper filled the air. It was hell on earth.

Haley dragged herself to her knees, shaking her head as she felt the ground shake again, and another explosion rock the air.

She cried out, covering her head with her hands as more glass exploded, and the cold seemed to battle with a surge of heat.

She staggered to her feet, shock, disbelief and horror filling her as she realized the books were burning. Piles of books. Flames licked at them, consumed them. The tables, counters, and much of the interior of the library was wood or a facsimile of it, and it was all burning.

Smoke poured around her, choking her, making it nearly impos­sible to see as she fought to get her bearings. She stumbled through the debris-littered section, nearly falling as another, smaller explo­sion ripped across the earth.

What was happening? A strike? Some sort of attack? Sanctu­ary wasn't far from Buffalo Gap, and she knew that it was prone to attacks from several different racist societies, but no one had ever attacked Buffalo Gap.

She choked and stumbled again, falling to her knees as her eyes burned, and she fought for breath. She wasn't going to get out of here. Tears filled her eyes, and fear filled her mind as she tried to crawl, fighting to figure out which way to move, which way to go.

"I have her!" someone yelled, a second before strong arms wrapped around her and dragged her to her feet.

A moment later she was slung over a broad shoulder.

"Was anyone else in there?" another voice called out.

"No one," she choked. She couldn't breathe, even as the cold outside wrapped around her, and she tried to blink the stinging pain from her eyes, still fighting to breathe.

"Haley, where's Patricia?" She was deposited on the hood of a car as someone shook her shoulders. "Is Pat in there, Haley?"

Haley shook her head, blinking as the fierce visage of the sheriff filled her vision. She shook her head again. "Gone," she coughed. "She left."

"Her car is still here," Sheriff Zane Taggart barked into her face.

"My truck," she coughed again. "Gave her my truck."

Silence met the information. She coughed again, blinking, gaz­ing around frantically until her eyes found where her truck had been parked. Right there, in front of where the big windows had been, where a fiery blazing hulk sat in the middle of melted pave­ment and the burning vehicles left in the parking lot by several city workers that worked nearby.

Her truck. Her truck had sat right there. And Patricia had been in her truck.

"No," she whispered, horror filling her, streaking across her mind. "No!" she screamed. "Oh God, Patricia."

She tried to jump to her feet and ended on the ground. Her legs folded beneath her as the sheriff tried to catch her.

Her nails dug into the frozen earth, and she stared at the blaz­ing vehicle in disbelief and agony. Oh God, Patricia had been in her truck.

The report came across the radios within seconds of the blast. Noble was just coming off a twenty-four-hour shift and head­ing to the barracks when it crackled across the comm links.

"All available enforcers, be aware. Explosion at the Buffalo Gap Library. One dead, one injured. Officers en route. Sheriff Taggart requesting enforcer backup."

He didn't wait for the order. He heard the names called to backup, the enforcers being pulled in to head to Buffalo Gap, and he didn't care if his name was on the list or not.

"Comm one, this is Chavin," he reported to the dispatcher. "I'm heading from Sanctuary en route now." He jumped on his motor­cycle, revved the motor, and shot out of the driveway next to the barracks. "Advise Alpha leaders one through four, we have a com­promise."

"Enforcer Chavin, order received and being forwarded. You'll be met by enforcers Warrant, Savant, and Crayven. Be advised, Direc­tor Wyatt will be en route."

Sanctuary's heavy metal gates swung open as he approached, the headlights of his motorcycle piercing the darkness and highlight­ing the faces of the ever-present protesters.

He shot through the opening, hit the gas, and tore through the press of bodies that threatened to surge against him.

"Heli-jet is being prepped and en route," the dispatcher reported.

"Any report of the casualty?" he yelled into the link.

"No report as of yet," he was informed.

He hit the accelerator with one hand, felt the power surge be­neath him and, with the thumb of his other hand, hit the integrated traction control and advanced speed protocols before he pushed the specially designed all-terrain cycle to its limits.

Thankfully, the curvy mountain road was more or less free of traffic. The cycle's warning system alerted him to traffic and al­lowed him to streak around it safely.

As he sped to the town, all he could see were Haley's wary gray eyes and pale, worried face the night she had overheard the plans Brackenmore and Engalls had discussed with the breed attempting to sell them information. All he felt was the echo of the knowledge that there was the chance that someone besides himself and the Breed Cabinet would find out what she had overheard before the hearing she was due to testify at.

He powered down as he hit the city limits, though he still pushed the cycle faster than the posted speed limits allowed.