Ultimate Prey (Book 3 Ultimate CORE) (CORE Series) (2 page)

“Of course,” he said. “So you’re telling me that this three thousand square foot home we’re renting, a home that has every modern amenity imaginable, a beautiful landscaped yard and is only a twenty minute drive to the Gulf, reminds you of a horror movie?”

She gave his bicep a light pinch. “Hardly. I told you I love the house. But I wish we could pick it up and move it directly
on the beach
. I don’t do gators and snakes. When we were on location in Louisiana for
Evil that Lurks in the Swamp
, we had to sleep in campers that didn’t have bathrooms. I practically dehydrated myself because I was afraid to go in the woods to pee.”

Laughing, he shook his head.

“Sorry, a little too much TMI, huh?”

“No,” he said, still laughing. “You’re good.”

“Well, anyway, I think that maybe if we’d arrived while it was still early enough to explore the area I might feel better about where you’ve brought me. You said we’re in the Everglades, so that makes me think we’re practically surrounded by water.”

In a way, they were. They were in a region known as The Ten Thousand Islands, which were a chain of islands and mangrove islets off the coast of southwest Florida. Most of the islands were uninhabited, and the house he’d rented for them was on the mainland near Everglade City, but they were definitely off the beaten path. Their nearest neighbor was at least a half mile away, and a walk in the wrong direction could have them ankle deep in the sawgrass marshes that covered the majority of the area.

“Since we have bathrooms, there’s no need for you to dehydrate yourself or venture off into the swamp,” he said with a grin. “Instead of comparing our vacation getaway to a horror movie, we’ll head out in the morning and do a little exploring. I really think you’re going to love it here. We’ll go on an airboat tour and—”

“Hold on. Are airboats the kind of boat with the big fan on the back?”

“I take it they didn’t use airboats in
Evil that Lurks in the Swamp
?”

She rolled her eyes. “The producers couldn’t afford a Porta Potti. But I’ll take that as a yes.” She scrunched her brow. “Sorry, but we’ll have to pick up some Dramamine before we go on any kind of boating excursion. I get seasick.” Her dark blond brows furrowed even more. “What’s weird is that my daughter inherited my boating issues.”

“You really think seasickness can be passed down through genetics?”

“I know it is. When she was seven, the poor thing threw up the entire time we were on the It’s a Small World ride at Disneyland. As far as I know, she hasn’t been on a boat since.”

“So cruises are out?” he asked, tracing a finger along the swell of her breast. At forty-nine, Cami still had a figure of a woman in her early thirties. But her body wasn’t the only thing he loved about her. She had a great sense of humor, said what she thought without apology and was free-spirited. He, on the other hand, wasn’t funny, picked and chose his words carefully and was a slave to convention. Yet somehow they worked together, and eventually she would be his wife.

No more coming home to an empty home. No more lonely nights.

Yeah, life was good.

“Cruises are definitely—” She gripped his bicep. “What was that?”

Still focused on her soft skin and now thinking about what she was hiding beneath the sheets, he said, “I didn’t hear—”

He froze. His skin crawled with unease. Metal clanked against metal from somewhere. Inside or outside? Unsure, he looked to the closed shutters, gave Cami a quick, reassuring kiss, then climbed out of the bed. After pulling on the pair of jeans he’d worn during the trip down to Florida, he quickly moved to the window, then eased open one wood slat. The front lights, which he knew had motion sensors from his last trip here, flooded the small yard.

He looked to the left where he thought the sound had come from. When he saw nothing, he looked to the right, then quickly released the slat and jerked back. Heart pounding hard, he did his best to keep his concern in check. Cami was already apprehensive about staying at the house.

She has you spooked.

Right. The shadow he thought he saw could have been from a tree or a raccoon, maybe even a wild boar.

When he lifted the slat again, he saw nothing. But that didn’t slow his heart rate or ease his worries. He also knew Cami wouldn’t sleep well tonight if he didn’t find out the cause of the noise. Maybe the raccoons had flipped the trashcans while foraging for scraps. Were those even metal? Damn, he couldn’t remember.

“Did you see anything?” Cami asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“No. But it’s probably raccoons. I’ll go check it out.”

“I’ll go with you.”

He turned and hoped his irritation didn’t show. They should still be lying in bed naked and on the verge of sleep. Instead, she’d slipped into a pair of cream-colored satiny-looking lounge pants, along with a matching camisole and robe. “How did you get dressed so fast?” he asked.

“When you’re doing theater, there’s not a lot of time between scenes and I can’t keep my audience waiting,” she said with haughty, dramatic flair, then laughed.

He chuckled. “Never,” he said, pulling her close. Cami didn’t have an arrogant bone in her body, and despite the rave reviews she’d received, she tended to joke and down play her recent success. Probably because Hollywood hadn’t been kind to her in the past, and her peers had tended to look down on the roles she’d played in the campy
Evil that Lurks
films. “That first night I saw you perform on stage, I—”

The lights flickered, then went out. She gripped his arms. “Oh, my God. Ian, I—”

“Shh. Hang on.” When he didn’t hear anything, he reached for her hand and guided her through the blackened room. Once he retrieved his cell phone from the nightstand, he put on the flashlight feature. “Let’s head downstairs. The owner has battery-powered lanterns for emergency situations in the kitchen.”

She jerked his hand, halting him. “Do you think this is an emergency?”

“No. Could be a power outage.”

“But the noises—”

“Coincidence,” he said, but used the flashlight to find the Glock he’d brought with him. Other than the firing range, he hadn’t been in a situation where he’d been forced to use the weapon in nearly nine years. He doubted he’d need it now, but the former FBI agent in him didn’t believe in coincidences. Not after what he’d witnessed with the Bureau, or what his CORE agents dealt with on a regular basis.

“Do you think you really need that?” she asked, gripping his arm hard. “Never mind, bring the gun, and if you have another, maybe you should give it to me.”

Hell, no. He had a .45 stowed in his other bag, but there was no way he’d let Cami have it. Just because she’d held a replica during one of her films, didn’t mean she could actually shoot the damned thing. “This is the only weapon I have,” he lied, and was tempted to tell her to stay put. Although he didn’t think they were dealing with anything more than a couple of pesky raccoons, or possibly a panther, he didn’t like the idea of her being on the second floor alone should he be wrong. “I told you, it’s probably nothing. Stay behind me, we’ll check things out downstairs and probably be back in bed in a few minutes.”

The glow from his cell phone touched along the worry lines creasing her forehead. “Can we at least stop in the kitchen? I saw a set of knives on the counter. In
Evil that Lurks in the Sewer
, I used a knife to—”

He silenced her with a kiss. “No knives. I probably don’t need my gun. I’m just being cautious and tomorrow morning we’re going to laugh about a family of raccoons stalking us.”

She grinned. “I was up against mutant animals in one of my films and kicked their furry butts. I can handle a family of raccoons.”

“That’s my girl.” He gave her another kiss, then led her toward the door. “Stay behind.”

Cami hooked her fingers through one of the empty belt loops on his jeans. “I have no intention of letting go,” she whispered, her warm breath brushing his bare back. “If we get the power back on, maybe I’ll make us something to eat.”

Food would be good. Cami back in his bed would be better. But first he needed to find out the cause of the noises and turn the power back on, hopefully without having to call the electric company or the owner of the rental. That would be a pain in the ass and not how he wanted to start their vacation.

When they reached the bottom step, he moved the cell phone, sweeping the light between the entrance to the kitchen and the hallway leading to the foyer. Without power, the house had been plunged into darkness, and the phone was about as good as carrying around a lit match in the rain. Needing a battery-powered lantern, he led Cami into the kitchen and checked the pantry. “Damn it. I swear there were lanterns in here. Come on.” Without another word, he took her down the hall toward the foyer. Once they reached the door, he checked the locks. Secured. From there, he inspected the den, then moved them into the large living room. The small beam of light emanating from his phone barely touched on the closed windows, then the TV and furniture. Nothing appeared disturbed or out of place.

He glanced over his shoulder. “The electrical box is in the laundry room off the kitchen,” he said, keeping his tone quiet. “Let’s head into—”

A sudden burst of orange-red flashed from the kitchen. Cami tugged at his belt loop and dug her nails into his side. “There’s someone
in
the house,” she gasped.

He quickly shoved the cell phone in his back pocket, turned, grabbed the back of her head, then put his mouth near her ear. “Hide in the coat closet,” he whispered. “There’s a phone in the kitchen for emergencies. I’ll call—”

She shook her head. “No. Let’s just get the hell out of here.” Her nails bit into his flesh. “Please,” she begged.

He looked over her head toward the front door. The keys to the SUV they’d rented were upstairs in the bedroom. They’d have to trek half of a mile to the nearest neighbor to call the police, and he wasn’t sure if there was anyone in residence at that neighboring house. Which meant they could end up walking for several miles. He glanced to what she was wearing. Her slippers reminded him of something a ballet dancer would wear. They weren’t ideal for the terrain they would face, but at least she had something on her feet. He, on the other hand, had been more concerned about arming himself than shoes or even a shirt. But she was right. He didn’t know who was in the house or their objective, and had no plans of finding out—not when he had Cami’s safety to consider.

Damn if he didn’t want those car keys, though.

Common sense had him hauling her toward the door. “Go,” he whispered, unlocking the deadbolt, then twisting the knob.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice rushed and filled with fear. “Open it.”

He rattled the handle. “Won’t open.” How could this be? The door swung inside, not out. Unless someone secured the door from outside to keep them…trapped. Although the house was large, claustrophobia set in. He grabbed her wrist. “The window—”

She pulled back. “The front windows don’t open, remember?”

He did now. Earlier, Cami had tried opening the windows in the den and on one side of the living room to let the afternoon breeze air out the house. But the ones on the other side by the dining room did open, only that would put them near the kitchen, and without knowing who was in the house, or where they were hiding, he wasn’t sure he wanted to take the risk. Then again, other than smashing the windows, what choice did they have?

“Back door,” he said.

She held her ground and stared at the decorative mirror hanging on the dining room wall opposite to the kitchen entrance, her eyes growing wide and filling with terror. He followed her gaze and caught his breath. A giant man, dressed in all black and wearing a ski mask stood in the kitchen, the orange-red glow of the flare silhouetting him. The man gave a single nod, then rushed from the room, his heavy footsteps pounding along the hardwood floor in the hallway.

“Go.” Ian pulled Cami across the living room, into the dining room and toward the kitchen. On the tile floor, the flare sizzled and burned. Smoke and the strong smell of sulfur hung in the air. “Try the back door,” he ordered, keeping his gun raised and his body in front of hers.

“It won’t open,” she said, her tone panicked as she jiggled the doorknob. “I can’t get it to—”

Another flare burst from the living room. “Move,” he said, covered her head with his chest, then slammed the butt of the Glock against the door’s window.

“There’s no escape,” a deep voice cut through the hiss of the flares and shattering glass. “Ready or not, here I come.”

“He’s coming,” Cami whispered in Ian’s ear. When her warm tears wet his cheek, he looked to her. The horror in her eyes had him thinking of the many ways he wanted to kill the man who had invaded their home. He had a gun. He could put a bullet in the bastard’s head. But first, he needed Cami safe.

The man’s heavy footfalls grew louder, closer. Not sure if he could break them out through the back door in time, Ian hurried her through the kitchen, saw the house phone had been ripped from the wall, then quickly pushed her into the laundry room and locked the door. Other than the glow from the kitchen shining from beneath the closed door, the room was pitch black. Ignoring the way the smoke had stung his eyes, he turned on the phone’s flashlight again, then aimed it to the window. The opening wasn’t large, and he doubted he could fit through it, but Cami could. “Here,” he said, handing her his phone. “You’re going to get out of here and run to the neighbor’s house.”