SavageLust (4 page)

The beast had no recollection of how it arrived at any
particular spot, only that it had woken up hidden away in a tiny, cave-like
hollow, protected on all sides by the abundance of trees and the thick growth
of vegetation. Whatever was sending signals to its brain apparently deleted
unnecessary information. The passage of time was immaterial to the devil beast
so it had no idea how to register the length of time it had been in its
hidey-hole.

It scented prey not long after it had been placed in the
area. Crawling out of the shelter and moving with superhuman speed, it had
overtaken its prey within seconds. The indicators from its brain had prompted
its actions, leading it to destroy the one and capture the others. The
excessive speed of which the beast was capable got it to the clearing it was
programmed to find within seconds. The big black machine that dropped from the
sky took the live prey before taking off again.

Standing there, watching it disappear in the sky, a sharp
pain had sliced through its head as its artificial intelligence program fed it
more instructions. Willing itself to change shape, it had left the mountain
behind to head for its next hunting ground.

Three. That’s what it was programmed for. Three kills.

The AI had also been specific about locations and types of
prey. That was why today it found itself in another location like the last one,
only more isolated. More caves to use for concealment. Heavier forestation.

Fresh prey!

Curled up on its side, hidden in the small cave-type space
in the rocks, it waited until the sun disappeared. This kill was programmed to
happen in the dark. Tonight he would scout this new area and select a target.
Tomorrow it would happen.

* * * * *

The meeting in the war room to share what they’d learned at
Jones Spring was over and Dante was anxious to get moving. They not only needed
as many details as possible about the current situation, but they had to try to
identify optimum locations where the beast could strike next. Additionally,
they’d learned Parks and Wildlife hadn’t sent a chopper into Pedernales Falls
anytime recently. So if their lunatic theory was correct, whoever it was had
gone to a lot of trouble to set this up.

That told them a couple of things. One, whoever it was had
more money than maybe even Craig. And two, based on the chips Craig’s
scientists had retrieved from the carcasses of the beasts they’d killed, it
seemed the creatures had the ability to identify targets. Someone had scouted
the area and programmed the monster to find a couple, then to kill the man and
capture the woman. Lisa and Reed seemed to have just been unlucky enough to
fall into the target range.

“I have to talk to Regan Fortune before I do anything else,”
Dante said, leaning against the long table and scanning the notes in his
tablet. “I want to know what the police have told her and get her own reaction
to the situation.”

“That’s if she’ll see you,” Ric warned.

“She won’t have a choice. Not if she wants to find out the
truth about what happened. But before I go knocking on her door, I’m going to
call her.” It was the middle of the afternoon and he knew he had to talk to
Reagan Fortune before he did anything else. “Let her know who I am and try to
get her to meet with me. Can you get me her phone number?”

“Does it snow in Maine?” Ric snarked. “Just give me a second
here.”

As it turned out, getting the woman’s number wasn’t easy.
She apparently had discontinued her landline recently and was only using her
cell.

“The media is probably hounding her,” Ric said as his
fingers flew over one of the keyboards. “She’s been busy, changing phones and
numbers,” he commented. “Let’s see if I can find her newest cell number.” More
tapping on the keyboard. “Okay. Got it. You’re lucky. She lives not far from
here, just outside San Antonio.”

Ric rattled off the number. Dante entered it into his own
cellphone, then tapped the newly recorded contact and waited while it rang,
wondering if she’d even answer.

When she did, it was with an angry explosion of words.

“How did you get this number?” she demanded. “Don’t call
again.”

The call ended.

Dante ground his teeth in frustration and touched her name
in his contacts once more.

“If you’re another damn reporter,” Regan Fortune snapped,
“the next time you call, I’ll hunt you down and shoot you. I’m changing my
number.
Again
.”

And she disconnected the call a second time.

Dante just stared at the screen.

Well. I probably should have been prepared for this. Let’s
try another angle.

He
really
didn’t want to just show up on her doorstep.

Text message. He’d try that next. And hope she read it.

Carefully, he punched in his message.

“I’m a cop from Chicago who can help you with your
brother’s death. My name is Dante Martello. You can check me out.”

He included the name and phone number of the lieutenant who
had been his boss. Then quickly texted the man himself, to tell him he might
get a phone call and to ask if he’d verify him.

In seconds, his phone rang. He’d hoped it would be Regan but
it turned out to be his old boss.

“First things first,” Nick Roman said. “You doing okay, out
there wherever you are?”

“I am,” Dante assured him. “But I need to speak with someone
who’s worried I’m a reporter.”

He went on to explain, briefly, the situation. Roman had
never fully bought into the Chupacabra theory, but he had accepted Dante’s
resignation because he was in such emotional pain.

“I can’t say I believe in what you’re doing,” Roman told
him, “but I’m happy to tell her she doesn’t have to worry about you.” He
paused. “Keep in touch, okay? We miss you around here.”

“I will,” he promised, although going back to Chicago wasn’t
an option. “And thanks for this.”

Pressing End, he went into the kitchen to pour yet another
mug of coffee. If the Chupacabra didn’t get him, he was pretty sure caffeine
might, but it was the glue that held him together. He was looking out the
kitchen window at the vast, empty land beyond the ranch house when he received
an incoming call.

He looked at the screen. Regan Fortune’s number popped out
at him.

“I hope you checked me out,” he told her.

“And I hope you understand the necessity.”

Her voice was edged with strain. Not unexpected, considering
what she was dealing with. But even despite that, her voice had a husky quality
that did something to his nerve endings.

Nerve endings? He didn’t think he had any left. What the
fuck?

“I do. Look. I really don’t want to get into this over the phone.
And your house is probably still surrounded by media. Can you get away without
the troops following you?”

“I’ll figure a way. What did you have in mind?”

Yes, what, mastermind?

“Are you familiar with a bar in Rosario called The Black
Wolf?” he asked. “The town’s just a spot on the map but—”

“Strangely, I am,” she interrupted. “I’ve driven through
that town a few times researching locations.”

“Researching locations? For what?”

“I’m an illustrator. I do artwork for children’s books.
Mostly westerns.”

Interesting. What else might she have seen?

“Okay, then it won’t be a problem for you to find it. If you
can slip away from the media circus, let’s meet there.” He checked his watch.
“In about an hour. That work for you?”

“I’ll make it work. See you then. Oh, and this better not be
some kind of scam.”

She was gone before he could think of an answer.

* * * * *

He spent the next hour with Ric going over everything they
had—maps of the park and the county, population densities, anything that might
be a factor in helping them. Ric had even hacked into the Ranger database and
pulled the crime scene photos—with a tinge of bitterness, considering none of
his old friends would even talk to him. Randi Turner sat behind them, sketchpad
in front of her, studying the photos on one of the screens and working on
simulated drawings of what might have happened. She’d helped them recreate some
of the scenes in Montana and she was tasked to do the same thing here.

By the time Dante headed out for the bar, he was as prepared
as he would ever be. And wound so tightly he was sure he vibrated.

It was one hour later exactly when he walked into The Black
Wolf. He spotted Sophia sitting in a booth to the right, busy working at her
laptop. He knew she often came to work with Clint, lugging her laptop and
cellphone. Despite his own circumstances, it pleased him that the couple had
found each other. He almost envied what they had.

Today, though, he guessed Sophia wanted him to know they
were both there to back him up. When he walked in, she smiled and gave him a
friendly wink.

We’re a team.

Sometimes he had trouble remembering that, despite his
emotional isolation, these people still had his back.

Clint was busy prepping the bar for early evening customers.
He looked up as Dante walked by and pointed to a corner booth on the other side
of the room. Okay, she was early. Good. Dante nodded his thanks and made his
way past the tables.

Regan Fortune was sitting with her hands clasped in front of
her, head bowed. Her body was rigid with a tension he was far too familiar
with. She turned her head as he approached.

And out of nowhere, a shocking bolt of lust zapped through
his body. A tidal wave that slammed into every one of his senses.

What the
fuck
?

He didn’t know what he’d expected her to look like, but
whatever it was, this wasn’t it. Even seated he could guess she was fairly
tall. A quick glance told him she wore very little makeup, but with her
coloring, she didn’t need it. Her rich golden hair was pulled back in a tail
that accented high cheekbones and the sculpted lines of her face. The deep
purple of her sweater brought out flecks of that color in her hazel eyes. Eyes
framed by sweeps of thick lashes. Rich, full lips completed the lovely vision.

In the five years since Felicia’s death, he had been a
completely asexual creature. The sexiest women in the world could have stood
naked before him and his dick would have hung like a dead appendage, his body
cold to any attraction. As far as he was concerned, his libido had died and was
buried with his wife.

So how did it happen that this woman, someone he’d never met
before, could elicit such a reaction? And now, of all times?

His teammates who were shifters would have said she was
“calling to his wolf”. That she was destined to be his mate. But he was
one-hundred-percent human. Was it possible the same type of connection existed
outside the shifter world?

Making a deliberate effort to push all those thoughts from
his brain, he pulled himself together. “Regan Fortune?”

She looked up at him. “Yes. And you’re Mr. Martello?”

“Dante. Please.” He reached out a hand to shake hers. And
was nearly knocked off his feet by the bolt of heat that shot through him. It
took every bit of control he had not to react.

But she felt it too. He saw it in the widening of her eyes,
the shocked look on her face. She withdrew her hand at once.

Hoping nothing showed on his face, he slid onto the seat
across from her. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. Would you like
something to drink?”

“No.” Anger vibrated from every line of her body but what he
noticed more was the combination of fear and anguish in her eyes. “Thank you,
but this isn’t a social event.”

“As you wish.”

She drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, a movement
that called attention to the outline of her breasts beneath the sweater. Dante’s
long-dormant cock once again decided to make itself known. Thank god for the
barrier of his jeans and the protection of the booth. But he needed to get
control of himself.

Think of Felicia.

“I checked with your boss in Chicago,” she began. “He
vouched for you, which is the only reason I’m here. But I’m sure you can
understand why I still need to see some identification.” Her lips twisted in a
bitter expression. “Although I wouldn’t put it past some reporter to buy phony
credentials to get to me.”

Anticipating something like this, Dante had taken his badge
wallet from the drawer in his suite where he still kept it. Now he pulled it
out of his pocket, opened it and placed it on the table in front of her.

“I assure you, this is the real thing. You can even take my
picture with your phone and send it to Chicago, if you’d like.”

Giving her a moment to study his shield, he took out a Night
Seekers business card and placed it beside the badge.

Craig had decided they all needed to carry something to
identify themselves, to give them an air of legitimacy. The card contained only
each individual’s name, cell number, email address and, in italic script,
Night
Seekers
.

Regan picked it up, frowning. “What’s this?”

“I have a slight confession. When I identified myself as a
Chicago cop, that was only half true. I—”

“Damn you!” She started to slide out of the booth. “And damn
your boss who lied for you!”

Dante closed his fingers over her wrist. Again, an electric
shock zipped through his arm, stunning him once more. From the shock on Regan’s
face, she felt it too. He had to steel himself not to pull his hand away from
her, from the heat of her skin nearly burning his fingertips.

What the hell?

“Stop. Wait.” Reflexively, he tightened his hold on her. “He
didn’t lie. Exactly. I’m not a reporter. I promise you. Give me five minutes to
explain myself. After that, if you want to leave, you can. Please. Just five
minutes.”

She didn’t look happy but she did as he asked, body rigid,
eyes flashing.