Sheep's Clothing by Einspanier, Elizabeth

of such heartless depravity. “A kidnapper?” He growled. “He didn’t do this for money. He… bound her, like. Turned her to his will. Last time I saw her, my pretty bride was gone, with something else in her eyes instead.” “I’m sorry,” I said honestly. I’d heard of such things before in the city, cases of wives beaten by their husbands until they lost the will to live—though such things were nearly unheard of in the frontier. I poked at the bacon absently so it wouldn’t burn. “He’s a monster—a leech, feeding off what ain’t his. I won’t rest until I tear his heart out, the way he did mine.” I saw the bacon was done, so I pulled the pan off the fire, scraping the bacon onto a plate. I had little doubt that Wolf would do his level best to make good on his threat—injury or no. “So, what’s this man look like?” “Oh, ya’ll know him when ya see him. He looks like the Devil hisself is riding along in his carcass.” He considered further. “Other than that, he’s a handsome feller. Red hair. Pale. Nice clothes. But his eyes… no soul in them. None at all. It’s like lookin’ a rattlesnake in the eye, if ya look at him right.” “How dangerous is he?” I asked. “Oh, dangerous as ya please. He’s got no moral compass at all—but he’s a charmer. That’s the most dangerous part of all.” He took a portion of the bacon and tucked into it. “So,” he continued with his mouth full, “what can ya tell me of the land and the people?” “I don’t know the land as well as most,” I admitted, “but I know the people well