Darlings of Paranormal Romance (Anthology) (106 page)

"You don't need his help tonight.
This is nothing you can't handle."

She groaned as he teased the other
breast, his lips nibbling and nudging, but never quite taking. She
struggled to free her arms, but he'd have none of it.

"Please, I want to touch you. I need
to touch...you."

Her arms – instantly set free –
wrapped around him, pulling him down on top of her. He groaned as
his bare chest slid across her heated skin. Sam slid her hands down
to his belt, only to find it and the jeans they'd held up were
missing. Her hand stalled, then slid down to the smooth, muscled
buttocks. His skin was so soft. She couldn't get enough of the
silky expanse.

He willingly offered her every part
of himself for her pleasure. Sam took full advantage. Pushing up on
his shoulders, he rolled over onto his back, swinging her on top of
him. Sam laughed joyously and accepted the invitation. Using her
fingers, her lips, and her tongue, she traced, teased, and
tormented Brandt until he could stand it no more.

Without warning, Sam found herself
flipped over, tucked under him, her legs hooked over his hips.
Brandt waited until Sam gazed into his eyes. Then dropping his
forehead to hers, he plunged deep.

Sam cried out. Her back arched,
sending him deeper. The sensations roiled through her. Her head
dropped to the side, her eyes drooped slightly…she was overwhelmed
by sensation.

Brandt moved once slowly, then a
second time. Need twisted through her, sending her higher and
higher. Fragile and yet edged in steel, Sam twisted against the
tension whipping through her.

"Brandt," she cried out, almost
afraid.

"I'm here sweetheart. Let's go
together." He hooked her leg higher and seated himself at her very
center.

Sam's senses exploded.

Dimly in the background, she heard
Brandt cry out as he found his own release. A long moment later, he
collapsed on top of her, rolled to one side, and tucked her firmly
up against him.

Well-being and
satisfaction permeated the air. Sam curled against him and closed
her eyes.

***

2:10 am, June
22nd

The phone rang.

Brandt opened his eyes, struggling to
orient himself to the unfamiliar lack of space. He raised his head
to find Sam splayed out, fast asleep on his chest. Her bed wasn't
intended for someone his size.

The phone rang again.

"Shit." Carefully, he extricated
himself from her arms, reaching for his discarded pants and the
cell phone in the pocket.

"Hello." Brandt's heart dropped at
the voice on the other end. "Right, I'm about a half-hour
out."

Standing up, he put the phone away
and searched for his briefs. He didn't want to wake her. Neither
did he want her to wake up alone. Putting on the briefs, he grabbed
his jeans next. While closing the buckle, he glanced over at Sam.
She stared at him.

He immediately went to her. "I'm
sorry sweetheart." He bent down and kissed her. "I have to go. We
have a new victim."

Chapter 21

2:15 am

I
ce slipped over Sam's soul at his
words. At least they'd found her. She'd been waiting for someone to
call this last victim in. She wrapped the blankets tighter around
her. The cabin temperature had dropped with the news. Blue crept
through her fingers, and her legs had already turned numb. She
tucked her legs under and reached for yet another of the cheap
blankets stacked on the floor beside her.

"It's her. The one we've been waiting
for. The brunette. Her name..." Sam's voice caught in the back of
her throat. "Her name is...was Caroline."

A shadow crossed Brandt's face. He
nodded to her as he walked out.

"Brandt?" Sam raced to the front
door.

Brandt turned to gaze at her, one
eyebrow raised. "What?"

"Be careful."

He acknowledged her comment with a
nod then he strode over to her, gave her a seriously dangerous
kiss, and walked out into the night.

***

2:55 am

On any other day, Brandt would have
made record time. But it was just after three on a Sunday morning,
and the Saturday night partiers had the city in full swing. Getting
to the city was no problem. Navigating to the crime scene
was.

"Jesus, Brandt, you must have had a
hot date tonight. You aren't usually this late showing up." The
forensic team had already arrived. Brandt took their ribbing in
good humor, without offering any clue to his
whereabouts.

Walking into the suburban brick
house, the sense of normalcy struck him. How often did a
family-oriented neighborhood hide a heinous crime? Regular
two-story homes on city-planned lots surrounded him. Somewhere
close would be the elementary school with a high school a little
further away, and within walking distance would be the standard
corner store.

Bad things did happen to good people.
Grimly, he walked into hell.

The odor hit him first – the flies
second.

The crime scene had to be several
days old. A body in the heat of summer decomposed
quickly.

Photographers worked at detailing
every little thing. One of the CSI crew stood over the victim, the
flashes from his camera creating an irregular staccato pattern. A
victim with brunette hair. Brandt stopped in his stride. Amongst
the dried blood and body fluids, the pasty white skin shone with an
eerie light. Brandt struggled for objectivity. He walked through
slowly and calmly, giving each area close scrutiny. Not knowing
what to search for, yet he knew he'd recognize it when he saw
it.

At the victim's bedside, all attempts
at a cool demeanor vanished. The scene was incredibly familiar. Too
familiar. Not the hair, not the features...but the injuries. God,
the injuries were all too familiar.

Her boyfriend had been out of town.
Caroline was supposed to have picked him up at the airport. When
she hadn't, he'd come looking for her.

"Hey Brandt. The killer took a trophy
this time."

With a sinking feeling, Brandt turned
to face Kevin and Adam. Kevin couldn't wait. "He cut off her
ear."

Christ.

Brandt paused for a moment to honor
the dead woman. Now, more determined than ever to catch this
killer, he got down to work.

***

9:10 am

Sam checked the roster. There were
two new surgical cases to deal with. One still under anesthesia,
while the other was awake and definitely pissed. She couldn't blame
the poor thing.

He was a lop-eared rabbit who'd lost
part of an ear to a dog. A large bandage covered the right side of
his head. Sam quickly cleaned his cage and moved on.

With the basics taken care of, Sam
headed to the lunchroom to find a cup of tea. She'd held her
thoughts locked up until she saw the lunchroom was empty. With a
sigh of relief, she collapsed at the table and dropped her head to
her arms. Her heart and mind were a mess. She couldn't help being
worried about the colonel's fate. Maisy was such a warm loving
character, Sam hated her to be suffering the pain of waiting and
not knowing.

Brandt had been on her mind all
morning, then that was to be expected after last night. Her heart
smiled as memories flooded her. Only to be shut down as Deputy
Brooker slammed into her thoughts. She looked around nervously.
Could he have tracked her to her place of work?

The door opened, startling
her.

"Good morning, Sam." A chorus of
greetings startled her. She smiled at the group of noisy women
collecting around her. Somehow, she'd managed to create friends,
without even trying. She didn't know how or why, but found
gratitude welling up inside. It helped not to be so
alone.

Their chatter swelled and receded and
swelled again. Sam rode the waves of utterly bewildering topics
from the latest color trend in shoes to the murder victim reported
on the morning news. She stayed quiet, not wanting to listen and
found it hard not to. The last thing she wanted to do was relive
the experience. The thoughts turmoiled around, keeping her off
balance and struggling to focus. She worked on keeping her emotions
under control. The very name of the victim hurt her deeply. That
poor woman.

Eventually, the coffee break ended,
sending everyone to their jobs.

The friendly atmosphere followed Sam
as she returned to the animals. She realized this was close to the
normal life of other people. Instead of an inherent wariness with a
guard always in place, other people laughed and joked, at ease with
each other. Sam was suddenly hungry for more.

Dr. Wascott came to check on the dog
coming out of his drugged state. Sam waited a few minutes, watching
the dedicated caring so evident in his actions.

When he was done, she brought up the
one subject she'd been waiting to discuss. "Sir," she said
diffidently, "Soldier has re-injured himself."

The vet frowned. "How bad? What did
he do?"

When she described the wound, the vet
nodded. He went over to one of the many floor-to-ceiling cabinets
and took out a small tube.

"Here is an antibiotic cream. Use
this on the open wound for a few days. If it doesn't get better
then you'll have to bring him in."

"I don't think he'll like
that."

The vet grimaced. "Truthfully,
neither will I. Only we can't have him getting an infection from
his ripped stitches."

"Okay, I'll see how he responds to
this."

Her day almost done, Sam quickly
finished up, grabbed the new cream, and headed out. Once free of
work, her thoughts automatically returned to the one subject she'd
refused to focus on. Caroline.

She grimaced. Caroline had become the
ultimate victim and Sam had been acting like one all along as well.
She'd let this asshole control her every waking moment and many of
her sleeping ones too. In order to regain control, she had to stop
being afraid. In order to control the fear she had to be
progressive. And just how the hell was she supposed to make that
happen? The fear wouldn't stop overnight. She'd possibly have it
forever.

Running a hand over her tired face,
Sam vowed to stop letting fear control her. It was going to take
constant vigilance to stay on top of this. She'd been afraid most
of her life and this wasn't going to stop simply because she'd
decided differently this moment. Still, power welled deep within
her. She couldn't just sit here any longer and wait for him to pull
her strings like a puppeteer.

It was time she pulled a
few of her own.

***

9:24 am

"Finally." He punched his heavy fist
in the air. Jesus H. Christ, he could die himself before the
fucking police actually got their heads on straight. He bet this
was all over the Internet.

Bill rubbed his thick fingers over
the top of his almost bald head. He'd need to shave again soon. But
now he could relax. His victim had been found. Finally. He was
tired but happy. There was no joy when his prize was decomposing
without someone to watch and fuss over her. He grinned – that
lopsided endearing movement as women described it. Before they got
to know who and what he really was.

How long before the police actually
received his surprise. He felt a moment of misgiving at his
spontaneous action, then tossed it off. They'd never figure it out.
He rubbed his thick hands together and gloated.

The gift should be nice
and ripe by then.

***

10:03 am

Brandt yawned, feeling his face crack
and splinter. God he was tired. He shouldn't have come in to work
without catching a few hours of sleep, only he'd felt driven by the
need to do something constructive. Besides, he might never sleep
again. Not after that crime scene. That poor woman had been sliced
and diced and Brandt could only feel grateful the killer hadn't
been into cooking and eating too.

The forensic evidence wasn't in yet.
The autopsy would be soon. All Brandt could do was wait.

He laid his head down on his crossed
arms on the desk. He'd just rest his eyes for a minute. That's all
he needed.

His phone rang a little later.
Bleary-eyed he stared, uncomprehending at the noisy black machine.
Sam? Rubbing his hand over his face, he reached for the
receiver.

"Hello," he mumbled in a grainy
voice. Reaching for his coffee cup, he took a drink to ease his
throat. He choked and spluttered on the clammy cold drink,
grimaced, and drank another sip. Caffeine was caffeine.

"Brandt, are you okay?"

Not Sam.

His mother. Damn, he'd forgotten.
"Mom, I'm fine. How's the colonel?"

"He's still unconscious, but he does
appear a little more peaceful now."

"But he hasn't woken up?" Brandt
tried to smother a yawn and failed. He needed to talk to the
colonel, if and when that was possible. He wanted to call Sam too,
just to hear her voice. A warm light wrapped around his
heart.