SavageLust (17 page)

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Authors: Desiree Holt

“I felt the same way at first,” Ben told him. “Except I
actually saw the creature before I saw any of the kills. The victims.”

“What?” Russ stared at him. “You say you actually saw
this…this…whatever it is? How the hell did that happen?”

“Until just a week or so ago, I was living in Montana, near
where the most recent kills took place. I heard my horse screaming and kicking
in the barn and raced back to see what was going on.” He closed his eyes for a
moment. “What I saw scared the shit out of me. It looked just like the pictures
of the carcasses Ric showed you, except of course it was alive.” He pulled in a
long, slow breath. “I did a couple of tours in Afghanistan. There was stuff
there that gave me nightmares but
nothing
that frightened me the way
this thing did.”

“And it looked just like the ones in those pictures?”

Ben nodded. “I can promise you I’ll never forget it.”

Russ looked from one to the other, as if trying to read what
was going on in their minds.

“I know it’s a lot to swallow,” Ric said, “but it’s the damn
truth. Except for Ben, everyone on the team has lost someone to the Chupacabra.
Someone close.”

“I just can’t make myself believe this. I thought the
Chupacabra legend was just that. Some insane story cooked up ages ago. I can’t
wrap my mind around the fact it might be real.”

“No ‘might be’ about it,” Ben told him. “It’s real all
right.”

By now Ron had stumbled over to where they all stood, his
face still drained of color.

“Russ?” His brother was doing his best not to toss his
cookies again. “You’d better go up there and see what happened to Harley.”

Ric could see the shock on Russ Hammond’s face as they
trooped up the porch and he got a close look at the body. Just as with all the
others, there were two puncture holes in the neck, the body was drained of
blood and had been ripped opened as if with a surgical knife from neck to
groin. The entrails sat in their usual place, outside the body, as if carefully
placed there.

Russ Hammond swallowed hard. His face paled as he took in
the condition of the body.

“Holy motherfucking shit.” His voice was barely a whisper.
“What the fuck happened here?” He backed off the porch. “You’re right. It’s
just like the pictures.”

“We need to call this in,” his brother pointed out.

“Who are you calling?” Ric asked. “The Texas Rangers have
everything from Wolf Mountain Trail, so technically they’re in charge.”

“What about notifying the Gillespie County sheriff?” Russ
asked.

“Call Dad first,” Ron said. “We don’t call anyone until he
gets out here and sees what happened.”

“I’m working with one of the Rangers from headquarters,” Ric
told him. “I need to at least call him and my team.”

“Not until we get our father out here,” Ron argued

“We can’t wait,” Ric insisted. “So you’d better get him on
the horn, because I’m getting my satellite phone from the helicopter.”

Russ pulled his radio from his belt. “I’ll get him right
now. Jesus. I don’t know how he’ll deal with this. And Mom. Fuck. Just—fuck.”

* * * * *

Dante steered the SUV along the winding Hill Country
highway. They’d gotten an extremely early start, hoping to get enough
information so all of the teams could gather before lunch and decide what their
next move should be.

Regan sat beside him with her tablet, charting their
journey. So far, between Johnson City and Blanco, they’d marked ten places that
provided good opportunities for the devil beast. Dante had pulled off the road
each time so Regan could snap a picture with her camera and send it back to the
ranch with the coordinates. Randi was manning the computer in Ric’s absence,
collecting the information from everyone out in the field.

When they cruised out of Blanco County into Gillespie, he
was more than ready for fresh coffee and a Danish.

“There’s a great bakery in Fredericksburg,” he told Regan.
“How about we stop there for a few minutes, refuel our bodies and make sense
out of the information we’ve got so far?”

“Sounds good to me.”

They had just reached the outskirts of Fredericksburg when
their satellite phone rang. Dante handed it to Regan. “Here. You answer.”

“Regan here,” she said. “What? Just outside Fredericksburg.
Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Holy shit! All right. Text me the directions and we’ll be on
our way.”

“That didn’t sound like good news,” Dante observed. He
pulled into the parking lot of a hardware store. “I’m guessing no coffee and
pastry for us.”

She dropped the phone back in the cup holder and pulled out
her tablet. “Let me get to my messages. Ric’s sending us coordinates.”

“For?” he prompted.

“Just a sec.” She pulled up the text with the information.
“Okay, take US 90 through town here. About two miles past the town limits, we
look for Pin Oak Road and turn left.”

“Ric found something,” he guessed, pulling back onto the
road.

“Yes, but not our elusive devil beast. He and Ben found
another body.”

“Shit.” Dante pounded his fist on the steering wheel. “Shit,
shit, shit! Will we ever stop playing catch-up?”

“I sure hope so. And if we’re lucky, while Lisa and Chloe’s
friend are still alive.” She sat back in her seat. “You think there’s a chance
they still are? Alive?”

“I have to believe that. If not I’d go insane.”

Silence hung between them for a few minutes.

“You’ll never really move past Felicia’s death, will you?”
It was more a statement than a question.

Dante waited for the white-hot pain that always stabbed
through him at the mention of her name. It came, but strangely with less
intensity this time. He reached over and took Regan’s hand in his. Squeezed it with
what he hoped was reassurance.

“A few days ago I would have said you’re absolutely right.”
He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “You weren’t
what I expected to find when I walked into The Black Wolf. Or anyone I thought
would have such an instant and powerful impact on my life.” He lowered his hand
but still kept his fingers around hers. “But it happened and I don’t think I
could turn away from it even if I wanted to. Which, by the way, I don’t.”

“Back at you,” she said. “But I was in a different place. I
didn’t have the type of loss you did. I can’t even imagine what you feel. I…”
She paused for a moment and he could hear her indrawn breath. “I know you loved
her beyond anything.”

He chose his next words carefully.

“Yes, I did. But I’m finding something with you I never
thought to have again. I almost feel as if you were sent to heal me, Regan. To
ease some of that pain. To show that it’s okay to…” He swallowed. “To love
again.”

“Love?” The question was evident in her voice. “Really?
Because I know what’s happening between us is exploding like a comet but I didn’t
even dare to hope…”

He gave her hand another squeeze. “I think you’re mending
me, Regan. Bringing me to life again.” He paused. “Healing me. Maybe.”

“I hope so. Because I feel…” Her sentence trailed off as if
she couldn’t find the words she wanted. “Oh!” She pulled her hand free and
leaned forward. “Here’s Pin Oak Road. Turn left, go about a mile until you see
the entrance to Hammond Ranch. Ric gave me the code for the gate. Go to the end
of the driveway and you’ll see the beginning of a sort of dirt road at the side
of the barn. But apparently it doesn’t last very long. Ric said it’s a good
thing the SUV has four-wheel drive because we’ll be driving across rough pasture.”

“Are they out in the middle of the ranch?” he asked, pulling
up to punch in the code. The long metal gate swung open and he headed down the
driveway.

“Yes. Ranches this size usually have what they call a line
shack, although
shack
doesn’t really describe them anymore. Riding
fence—riding along the miles of fence line to check for breaks in the wire—can
take a long time, depending on the size of the property. Line shacks came into
being years ago so, if needed, the hands could have a place to crash overnight
without hauling all the way back to the main buildings.”

“He wasn’t kidding about the rough road.” Dante shifted into
four-wheel drive, fighting with the steering wheel as they bounced over bumps
and ridges.

“He said just stay to the left in the open pasture spaces,
away from the cattle.”

“Great.”

It took about twenty minutes to reach their destination. The
helicopter was easy to spot, an off-road vehicle next to it. A small group of
men, Ric and Ben among them, stood in a tight circle in front of the cabin.

“Nobody looks very happy,” Regan commented.

“If we have another body I can understand why.”

Dante braked to a stop not far from the action and he and
Regan made their way over to where everyone was gathered. Dante noticed that
someone had thought to cover the body on the porch so at least it wasn’t open
to the elements.

“Two more of my team,” Ric said as they approached. “Dante
Martello, former Chicago cop, and Regan Fortune. Dante’s wife was killed by the
devil beast and he was the one who found her. He’s heading up the investigation
this time.”

“This time?” one of the men echoed. He looked similar to the
other two but considerably older.

Dante slid a glance to Ric, who looked as if his patience
was hanging by a thread.

“I understand we have another body here?” He tried to keep
his tone as even as possible.

“A body?” the man raged. “Damn fucking straight we do! Some
wild animal killed my oldest employee and your people are trying to make a
horror movie out of it. Sell me some kind of weird bullshit. I want all of you
off my property!”

“And you are?” Dante asked.

“Dan Hammond. I own this ranch. My sons and I, that is.” He
gestured at the other two men, who resembled him. “Ron and Russ.”

“I’ve done my best to explain to everyone what really happened,”
Ric said, “but Mr. Hammond seems to think I’ve lost my mind.”

“Excuse me.” Regan stepped forward, placing herself directly
in front of Dan Hammond. “As Ric said, my name is Regan Fortune. My brother’s
body is the one they found a few days ago on Wolf Mountain Trail. I know this
seems beyond the realm of believability to you, Mr. Hammond, but Reed made a
career out of researching and writing about legends. If they had any basis in
truth and whether they were grounded in fact or not.”

“I don’t care what—”

“I know this is hard to accept,” Regan interrupted. “But
what you’ve got here is the result of an attack by something more than your
average wild animal. There’ve been similar cases like this going on for months.
All of us,” she waved a hand to encompass the group, “have lost someone we
loved to the Chupacabra. We—”

“So your friend says. But you aren’t going to sell me some
story that’s been hanging around the state for decades,” the man blustered. “We’ve
got a wild beast running on my property. I need to gather my hands and some
firepower and hunt it down before it starts killing my cattle.”

“This beast doesn’t go for large animals,” Ric told him.
“Only small ones and humans.”

Dante shoved his hands into his pockets so no one would see
how tightly he had them clenched. Ric looked at him and gave a slight shrug.
Obviously they’d been going around this circle for a while.

“Listen—” the old man began.

Regan held up a hand. “Reed did extensive research on the
Chupacabra. I can show you documents and reports, factual sightings, all kinds
of evidence. But right now your friend’s body is lying on that porch being
disrespected and a dangerous creature is roaming the area. Night Seekers has
extensive experience with the Chupacabra. If you want to avenge your friend’s
death, listen to them and let them do their job.”

“I want to get Garth Myers here,” Ric told her. “But we’ve
been arguing about this and haven’t gotten anywhere.”

“Mr. Hammond.” Dante tried to put all his sympathy for the
man in his tone of voice. “Please. Listen to us. All of us. Let Ric call the
Ranger we’re working with. If you want to honor your friend, then examine the
evidence and compare it with everything else you’ve ever known. You’ll see what
an anomaly this is.”

“I pulled up the pictures on my phone,” Ric added, “and the
info on the other killings we’ve worked.” He turned back to Dan Hammond. “I
know this is unbelievable, but trust me. Sometimes the things you can’t believe
are more real than you want to think.”

“Let me ask you a question,” Dante said. “When you found the
body earlier, did you catch the odor of turpentine in the air?”

The two younger Hammonds looked at each other.

“What is it?” Ric wanted to know. “Did you smell it?”

“We’ve had a dog chasing around here for a few days,” Russ
said at last. “Bitchy little stray that wouldn’t stop yapping. It smelled of
turpentine. Why?”

Dante looked at the other members of the team and knew they
were thinking the same thing. This would be even more difficult to explain.

Okay then.
He measured his words carefully.

“The devil beast carries the odor of turpentine,” he
explained. “We think it has something to do with its peculiar genetic makeup.”

“So you think it might have been hanging around wherever the
dog was?” Ron wanted to know.

“It’s entirely possible.”
I’m not about to get into the
whole shifter thing with these people. They really
will
think we’re
crazy.

“Jesus.” Russ whistled and scrubbed a hand across his face.
“Okay, say we go with your idea. That doesn’t mean I believe this whole horror
story but what’s next on our agenda here?”

“Let Ric bring in Garth Myers, our Ranger liaison, and let
me tell our boss so he can send in a special forensics team.” Dante blew out a
breath. “I hate to say this but we need to leave the body undisturbed until we
can do all of that.”

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