Pan's Salvation (Dueling Devils 5)

Chapter One

There are moments that shape the rest of your life. Split-second decisions that alter who we are, so irrevocably we can never be the same. If Lark Rosario knew what lay ahead, perhaps she would’ve turned around, got back into her sensible sedan and drove away…Maintaining her safe, ordinary and utterly droll lifestyle. But life doesn’t give us warning and she was about to be thrust into a world she didn’t understand or belong in. For this was one of those defining occasions.

Lark pushed her sunglasses up on her head and stepped out of her four-door gray sedan. The southwest heat rolled over her and she went limp like a flower. She blew a puff of air from her mouth to dislodge the stray strands of hair that had escaped from behind her ear and fallen into her face. The soft cotton material of her shirt clung to her back and her blue jean shorts stuck to her thighs. She tugged them back down and shimmied to set them back in the right place. The joys of living in New Mexico in the summer. You have to love that hundred plus degree weather.

She closed the car door and walked around to the pump.

“Of course.” She shook her head at the long strip of white receipt paper taped to the card reader that read, out of order come inside. She hit the alarm and hurried across the parking lot of the shady gas station. The weathered building had seen better days. The fading white paint peeled from the walls. Dirty, run down cars filled the lot. Their narrow-eyed rough-around-the-edges owners made her skin crawl. Their gazes made her feel indecent. She cursed herself for, not filling the tank before she left the city and picked up the pace. Stepping inside, she heard a chime. Racks of magazines, shelves full of junk food and travel accessories crowded the small area. The dingy, off-white flooring had seen better days. A sticky substance clung to the soles of her shoes.

A burly man with a beard and a flannel button up shirt stood behind the counter. His lips pulled back to reveal yellowed teeth and his brown eyes glinted with mischief.

She strangled the shudder of disgust that threatened to run through her body. Holding her head up high, she continued to the counter while looking him in the eyes. “I need thirty on pump six, please.”

“Is that right?” He licked his lips. His eyes turned to slits and his gaze paused at her breasts as if he could see through her clothing.

Her lip curled up in disgust. She batted away the desire to cross her arms beneath her

breasts. I won’t give the prick the pleasure of thinking he scares me. Five-foot-eleven, a size twelve and the owner of a smart mouth, she didn’t frighten easily. Her fingers grazed the can of mace on her key chain. These days, a woman needed to be able to take care of herself and she made sure she could do just that. “Yep.” She popped the P.

“You see anything else here you’re interested in?” He drawled, leaning across the counter.

The smell of body odor assaulted her. Her eyes widened and watered. “No,” she choked out.

He scowled. “Uppity, ain’t you?”

“Honest.”

He chuckled. “Right, you know I never had a chocolate dime piece like you. Might be time for me to broaden my horizons.” He wiggled his thick brown eyebrows.

She bit her tongue and mentally counted to ten. If I tell him off, this is only going to end badly for me. “I’m sure I’m not the only sister who’ll breeze through here.” She extended her hand and held out her card, staying as far away from him as humanly possible.

He took it, making sure he brushed his thick fingers against hers.

She released the plastic like it was on fire and rolled her eyes.

“Maybe not, but I’m not the type who likes to wait.”

Tough tits, creepe

r.

He slowly rang up her gas order. The printer seemed to take ages.

Thwack. Something whizzed past her ears. Glass shattered. The cashier grunted. A few more tiny missiles embedded themselves into the walls and counters. A bag of chips burst and she broke out of her stupor. She hit the ground. Chaos exploded. Bullets continued to rain down around her. Her ears rang. The smell of gunpowder flooded her nostrils. Tears blurred her vision while she covered her head and curled into a ball. Please God, don’t let me die. Blood rushed in her ears. Her heart beat against her ribs like a bird ready to flee its cage.

A bullet lodged into the counter.

Self-preservation took over. She rolled away from the spray and crawled on her belly across the store to the far wall.

“Sons of bitches!” The cashier let out a roar.

Lark glanced up to see him rise from behind the counter, an avenging angel, hell bent on revenge. A streak of red showed from his shoulder to his belly. He pumped the shotgun, aimed and blew a hole through the front door.

Wood shattered, glass fractured and her stomach sank like a stone. The rumble of bikes

mingled with shots. I need to hide. Her gaze shot around the room. She spotted a bathroom.

Viewing it like her lifeline, she continued her slow slither. She reached the unisex bathroom and nudged the door open.

The scent of ammonia slapped her across the face. She ignored her burning nostrils and

scurried inside. She slammed the door shut, turned the lock and took a moment to catch her breath. I’m alive. Her body trembled and a strange numbness encased her limbs. This can’t be happening. Mind racing, she remained plastered against the door. A bullet slammed into the wall across from her. She jumped. Her heart knocked in her chest. Stumbling away from the entrance, she searched the tiny area for a means of escape or protection. She longed for the mace attached to her keychain. Why didn’t I get my keys? It was bare bones. A tiny window she had no hope of fitting through mocked her from its position high up on the wall. Escape is out. Her thoughts turned to defense.

A cloudy bottle of chemical rested under a grubby white sink with pipes running beneath it.

She grabbed the bottle, backed up into a corner and hunkered down. If nothing else, she could get them in the eyes and make a run for it. Struggling to slow her breathing, she strained to decipher the events taking place outside her front door. More shots rang out. A large thud told her the clerk had more than likely bit the dust. The gunfire died down.

Please just leave.