“S-Sorry,” she stammered, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.
“No problem. It’s a normal reaction. Come on. You don’t have any brandy, which I’d prefer. Is there more wine?”
She nodded.
“Let’s get some into your system,” he said in a soft voice. “The others should be back shortly.”
Vaguely she wondered how he could be so calm, so together, when he had to be as zapped by tonight as the others. Finally he would have something to soften the incredible pain he’d lived with for so long. But somehow he was managing to subvert his own feelings and concentrate on her, something for which she was silently grateful.
All the clothes had been left on the porch so the wolves could shift and dress outside. They were sensitive to the fact that while they were used to each other naked, Dakota was not. They didn’t want her to be embarrassed by anyone’s nudity while they dressed. Inside she dropped into the big armchair, her energy totally depleted. Dante found the wine and poured some into a juice glass for her, kneeling beside her while she sipped on it.
“You making time with my girl?” Jonah’s voice had only a tinge of amusement in it as he walked into the cabin, pulling his t-shirt over my head.
“Just taking good care of your dead-on shooter.” Dante rose and moved so Jonah could take his place. “You should be very proud of her.”
“I am, don’t worry.”
He stroked Dakota’s arm, her cheek, her back, finally setting the glass aside and lifting her from the chair. He sat down in her place and settled her on his lap, cradling her like a child. His touch began to ease the rough edges and still the trembling inside her body.
The others slipped inside, quietly talking among themselves. Dante filled them in on what had happened and when Dakota raised her eyes to the group she saw a sea of admiring faces.
“It’s hard to believe it’s over so quickly,” Sam said, “after all the hell we’ve been through. Who knew we’d get it first crack out of the box.”
“Let’s just make sure it’s dead,” Sophia warned, helping herself to coffee. “I want proof that it’s dead.”
“I think we’re about to find out,” Jonah told them as his phone buzzed on the table where he’d left it. He reached to pick it up and clicked the Talk button. “Yeah?” He listened, face giving nothing away. “No shit. And the man’s okay? Good, good. Yeah, that would be great if you don’t mind. All right. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Well?” Mark demanded, tension lining his body.
“That was Denby. He says someone shot the devil beast before it could get into the house and attack the man who lived there. Asked me if I want to come take a look. Maybe get some pictures for my story.”
“Of course you said yes,” Chelsea commented, looking as tense as Mark did.
“Damn straight.” He looked at Dakota. “Will you be okay if I’m gone for a little bit? I hate to leave you but I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to go with me. Not this time.”
She nodded. “I think I only want to see it in pictures, anyway. Jonah, it was awful. A monster.”
“I know, darlin’.” He stroked her hair back from her face, then stood and sat her back down in the chair. “I won’t be gone all that long.”
“We’ll take good care of her.” Mark walked over to stand beside the chair. “All of us. You get going and get us our proof.”
“Yes,” Sophia echoed. “Bring us plenty of pictures, Jonah. And every scrap of information you can. We all have a stake in this.”
He nodded, feeling the same tension they did. As if just hearing the words wasn’t enough. Only visible proof would satisfy them that a monstrous creation of nature was finally and forever dead.
“Someone call Ric and let him know what happened. Have him call Craig Stafford.”
“I’m on it.” Sam already had his sat phone out and was punching buttons. “You just get your butt in gear.”
* * * * *
The area around Leo Merritt’s house was filled with chaotic activity. What looked to Jonah like every available deputy had arrived as was either putting up yellow crime scene tape or taking pictures. Leo himself was standing on his back porch in jeans and a pajama top. A deputy stood with him, either to keep him from entering the taped off area or to keep him from falling down, Jonah wasn’t sure which.
Denby walked over as soon as Jonah climbed out of his truck.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this,” he said, a tortured look in his eyes. “It’s a real devil beast all right. Come on.”
The creature lay where it had fallen, an abomination unlike anything Jonah had ever seen before. It had the hind legs and hind quarters of a deer, the hair body of a coyote overlaid over a thin scaly surface, a wide mouth from which protruded two inch long fangs, and eyes that bulged even in death. Its front claws, long, razor-sharp talons, were half constricted in the rictus of death.
Jonah thought he should feel something more than he did. Satisfaction. A release of grief. A whoosh of breath expelled from his body that carried every feeling of misery and pain he’d bottled up since the night he found Jenna. For two years he’d thought of nothing else, concentrated on nothing else. The offer from Craig Stafford had given him a place to focus all that bitterness, all that desire to seek and destroy the devil beast.
So why didn’t he feel more? It was almost anticlimactic.
Maybe because while the pain and torment would always live somewhere in his soul, Dakota had come into his life and softened the edges. Made him realized that he hadn’t died, too. Helped him put all this in perspective. Or at least as much as he could.
“Jesus.” Jonah couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. “I don’t think
anyone’s
ever seen anything like this. So. You shoot this?” he asked very carefully.
Denby shook his head. “No, and I’ll be damned if I know who did.”
Jonah feigned curiosity. “What do you mean?
“If you can get your mind around this, someone came around with a helicopter and whoever was riding in it shot the sucker dead. Four kill shots.”
“Really? And you don’t know who it was?”
“Not a clue.” He looked at Jonah, curiosity plain in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you’d happen to have the answer to that, would you?”
“Who, me?” Jonah held his hands out, palms up. “I’m just a writer shmuck. What do I know from helicopters and guns?”
Denby looked at him for a long time, then shrugged. “If you say so.”
“So what happens now?”
“Now I have to figure out how handle the media circus that I know is about to descend on us. As soon as the local paper gets this story and takes pictures, we’ll have every news service and television station within miles camping out here.”
“What about Leo?” Jonah glanced at the back porch. The man still looked as if he was in the middle of a waking nightmare.
“I’ll talk to him. He won’t want to do anything that will bring droves of curiosity seekers out here. He’s not much for company.”
“Maybe you can lock this down before word gets out,” Jonah offered.
Denby grunted. “Fat chance. And I don’t have the manpower to deal with all of it. I’m just damn lucky this happened far enough out of town that I don’t have a mob scene on my hands already.”
“I might be able to help you out,” Jonah said, measuring every word. “Let me think about it while I take some pictures for my story.”
Denby gave him another one of those searching looks, then nodded and went to talk to one of his men.
Jonah snapped the beast from every angle, making sure to get clear shots of every detail. When he’d worked his way to the far side of the area where the beast lay, he slipped into the shadows, pulled out his sat phone and punched in some numbers. He spoke quietly, watching to make sure he didn’t rouse anyone’s curiosity before he disconnected and walked around to where the sheriff was standing.
“If you’d like to get this carcass out of here and move the center of activity,” he said in a low voice, “I can help you out.”
“Yeah?” Suspicion flared briefly in the sheriff’s eyes. “How’s that?”
“I called my editor. He can contact the folks at the University of Texas who have autopsied other animals thought to be El Chupacabra. They’d love to get their hands on this one and it would make a great story for us.”
Denby scratched the side of his face. “All right,” he said at last. “We aren’t really equipped to handle this here anyway. When do you think he’ll call?”
“As soon as I get back to him with your number.”
“Go ahead, then. I’m going to make sure poor Leo’s okay. Then I’ll sit on this scene with a couple of my deputies until someone comes to haul this animal away. I can’t ask any of them to stay unless I do. They’re skittish about looking at it as it is.”
“I’ll call him now.”
* * * * *
“Craig called Denby and arranged to send someone after the carcass,” Mark told him as soon as he pulled up in front of the cabin.
Three Night Seekers were standing there, waiting, almost holding their breath.
“Is it really dead?” Sophia asked. “Is this nightmare really, finally over.”
Jonah gave her a tired smile. “Yes, it’s over. The devil beast is dead. It’s really dead.” He wiped his hand over his face. “And holy shit, what an abomination. You won’t believe these pictures.”
“Well, let’s see them,” she urged. “I won’t be satisfied until we do. None of us will.”
“When will they pick up the beast?” Jonah asked, taking the porch steps in one long stride.
Mark looked at his watch. “From what I could gather, within a couple of hours. Apparently Denby is just as eager to get rid of it as Craig Stafford is to have it autopsied.”
Everyone else waited apprehensively inside, their faces lined with anxious need. For all of them this would be the end of a long journey, but it had ended so quickly they were almost afraid to accept it. They all stood around barely breathing as Jonah booted up his laptop, slipped in the SD card from his camera and transferred the pictures to the computer. He sensed the same feeling of horror in each member of the team that he felt himself as he scrolled through the photos. He was still waiting for the feeling of total relief, of vengeance satisfied that seemed to be eluding him, but maybe that would come when they all got to view the carcass as a group and it was autopsied.
“Ric said Stafford would have had Dante pick the beast up,” Mark told him, “but he didn’t want Denby to know there was a helicopter in this area and wonder if it was the one that carried the shooter. No sense giving him numbers to add up he doesn’t need.”
“You know.” Jonah scratched his head. “The one thing I didn’t notice was the odor of turpentine and gasoline. It bothers me that there wasn’t a trace of it.”
“Probably because it was already dead,” Logan pointed out. “I’m guessing it can only give off that scent when it’s alive. Dead, the glands that secrete whatever substance it is you detected aren’t working.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I should have thought of that.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Maybe during the autopsy we can get some answers.”
“Where’s he taking it?” Dakota had moved up to stand beside him so quietly he hadn’t been aware of her until she spoke.
“He has a lab set up,” Mark answered. “Once the beast is delivered there he’ll call us to meet him while the autopsy’s conducted.”
“It’s the strangest thing,” Chelsea said in a low voice. “I have this incredible need to see it in the flesh, but at the same time I’m so revolted by it I don’t know if I can bear it.”
“I think we all feel that way,” Logan told her. “But we need to do this.”
She nodded her head. “I know. I really do. It will help all of us to move on.” She smiled. “Hopefully, the way Jonah has.”
* * * * *
It was just before dawn by the time they were finished talking and everyone climbed into the helicopter to leave. Jonah and Dakota were barely back in the cabin before he slammed the door and pulled her tight against him.
“I need you, darlin’. I need you right now.”
“You’ve got me,” she said in a soft voice. “You know that.”
He was like a man possessed, yanking off their clothes and carrying her to the bed.
“Wait, wait,” she said. “We can take it slow—”
“No.” His voice was strained. “Not slow. Fast. Hard”
He ripped back the bed covers and rolled them both onto the mattress. With desperate moves he pushed her thighs apart, knelt between them and placed his open mouth directly over her cunt. Dakota felt the surge of voluptuous pleasure race through her that his mouth always incited. The walls of her pussy vibrated with instant need.
Thumbs plucked at her folds, already slick with her cream, and the rough surface of his tongue scraped her sensitive walls. She tried to close her legs around his head but he forced them wide with his shoulders. He ate at her with a kind of quiet desperation, a need so primal she wondered if it would ever be satisfied. She had the sense that all the emotion he’d put on hold since finding Jenna’s body was erupting like a volcano and driving him with inescapable force.
The climax hit without warning, her inner walls grabbing at his tongue as she spasmed and rocked and rode out wave after wave of pleasure. Jonah never stopped the thrust of his tongue, instead slicking her cream over her clit and massing it with his fingers as he drove her up again. Without even realizing she was doing it Dakota cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples, hard, the streaks of pain mingling with the jolts of pleasure to push her over the crest again.