Branded by Lust: 4 (Night Seekers) Read online

  Branded by Lust

  Desiree Holt

  Book four in the Night Seekers series.

  Logan Tanner is on a mission to track down the legendary Chupacabra. Part of Night Seekers, a group of former law enforcement members who’ve lost loved ones to the terrifying devil beast, Logan will stop at nothing to find and eliminate the threat. Until a complication arises—a sexy complication by the name of Rebecca Black, a recent addition to the team, equally determined to kill the monster wreaking havoc in the Montana wilderness.

  Bound by purpose, neither Logan nor Rebecca are prepared for the red-hot chemistry between them; the lust that’s turning into love. But hunting the Chupacabra is dangerous work…perhaps a task too dangerous for their passion to endure.

  A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Branded by Lust

  Desiree Holt

  Prologue

  The cold Montana wind blew across the desolate landscape. The area was dotted with giant ponderosa pines and the peaks of the many mountain ranges that made up the rugged Continental Divide glistened in the sun. In the summer, grasses grew fragrantly in prairies between the mountains, the green softening the harshness of the land. But in the winter it was a cruel setting, covered with snow that piled in deeper and deeper drifts.

  The area was sparsely populated—miniscule towns, often with a population of less than a thousand, with just a few widely scattered larger cities. The people ranched either sheep or cattle and a few other hardier souls provided support for those industries. Nearly a third of the state was national forest, protected by government regulations with hunting severely regulated.

  There just wasn’t a lot of traffic anywhere, making it a fertile hunting ground for feral beasts. Like the devil, the legendary Chupacabra, which was creeping from the cave in one of the mountains where it had been sleeping after temporarily slaking its bloodlust on a bighorn sheep.

  The ugly, weirdly shaped creature stretched and looked around casually. The sight of its unholy body alone was enough to scare both animals and people. A head resembling a coyote’s was distinguished by blood-red pupils and sharp fangs that extended over the lower lip. Its chest appeared to be a series of metal-like bands and its short arms and longer, more muscular legs were covered with a thick growth of fur. It was definitely the stuff of nightmares.

  Drawing in a deep lungful of air, it filtered the different scents carried by the wind, seeking the distinct aroma of humans. In this desolate wilderness it hadn’t found very many. Foraging in the closest small town was a last resort, the taboo programmed into its brain circuits. But approaching any of the widely scattered ranches was also difficult, the absence of trees made stealth almost impossible. But the urge was growing stronger every day. If it wasn’t satisfied soon the results might be devastating.

  As it stood in the buffeting force of the winter wind a faint sound reached its ears, the sound awakening something familiar. The devil beast cocked its head and waited as the growling sound drew closer. Then it came into sight and the beast almost roared with satisfaction. Here was the prey coming directly into its lair. Backing slightly into the opening of the cave, the Chupacabra watched. And waited.

  * * * * *

  Randy Parker cursed steadily as he maneuvered his four-wheel ATV up the rocky path. With the track kit he’d added for the winter the snow wasn’t a deterrent and he could go pretty much anywhere. Most of the time he loved his job as a park ranger. He even loved the fact that he got to work in his home state. He and four other rangers were responsible for the more than one million miles that comprised the magnificent Glacier National Park and he took pride in the way they patrolled and maintained it. But on days like this when the bitter Montana wind could chill you to the bone he wondered if someplace warm like Hawaii might not have been a better choice.

  Today he was checking on the bighorn sheep, known as the true monarch of the Rocky Mountains. This was not a task for the timid. Bighorns lived amid cliff faces and scrambling talus slopes at altitudes that caused most mortals to gasp for oxygen. Among all North American game species, this animal exemplified the essence of wilderness and dignity. Most hunters considered bighorns to be the most regal of all big game animals. Few creatures could survive where they thrive. In the space between forests and sky, between earth and the heavens, there is a place where dreams come true and memories are etched indelibly on the mind and in the heart of the hunter.

  A party of extreme hikers had reported finding the carcass of a bighorn on their path, which pissed Randy off big time. Hunting season for the majestic animals was limited to September, for both guns and bow and arrow. To Randy that meant poachers were roaming his national parkland and that really got his back up. He considered the land and the animals his personal obligation to protect and he wasn’t about to let some assholes think they could get away with it.

  He had pushed the ATV almost two miles up the trail before he found what was left of the sheep. One look told him whatever had gotten the animal sure wasn’t poachers. They might have cut off the head for the trophy horns and left the carcass, but this…this was something more. Whatever had attacked the animal had ripped it from stem to stern. There wasn’t a drop of blood anywhere, very unusual for this kind of attack. At this temperature it would have frozen practically at once. The entrails had been yanked from the body and were frozen to the pelt.

  Randy felt sick. He had to wonder what kind of animal had done this. There were certainly enough grizzly bears around, but a grizzly would have devoured the meat and there would have been evidence of blood. There were also two unexplained puncture wounds at the center of the animal’s throat.

  Sighing at the wanton destruction, Randy turned back to his ATV to pull his camera out of its weatherproof bag. He’d take pictures to document this along with his report, then check with the other rangers to see if they’d found anything similar. He heard the roar only seconds before the creature from hell leaped from the cave and was on him. He dropped the camera, eyes wide with shock, as it sank its fangs into his neck.

  Chapter One

  The sounds of hammers and saws were silent for a change at Desolation Ranch. It was Sunday—a day off for the workers, as well as a day for celebration. Night Seekers and their founder, Craig Stafford, were enjoying a champagne brunch after the ceremony uniting Sophia Black and Clint Beltaire in marriage.

  “This place is getting to be a regular marriage central,” Stafford joked, lifting his champagne flute in a toast. “I want you to know I couldn’t be more pleased for all of you. Our core family continues to grow and each one of you has brought something special to it. I salute you.”

  They all raised their glasses and drank.

  “I just wish we were celebrating the end of the hunt for the Chupacabra,” Sophia said, her arm linked through Clint’s.

  “Don’t we all,” her sister Rebecca echoed.

  Rebecca was another of the newest additions to the team. She had worked with Sophia and her partner Logan Tanner, investigating the recent Chupacabra killings in the north of Maine. Craig was smart enough to know the sisters wanted to be together and also that Rebecca had special skills Night Seekers could use. Besides, she was already aware how many of the team were shifters and took their transformation into wolf form matter-of-factly, a real plus.

  Craig himself was a shifter who had lost his wife and child to the devil beast. When all normal channels had failed to track down the monster and kill it, he’d created Night Seekers and funded it from his vast financial resources. Eradicating the nightmarish creature was now his main mission in life.

  Recruiting key people in various branches of law enforcement who had als
o lost someone to the Chupacabra, he had put together the original team of eight people—two humans and six shifters. Since then Jonah Grey and Mark Guitron had married. Chloe, Mark’s wife, was also a shifter. And now here came Clint, a black wolf in his other form, who could run with the pack when needed and who had bought a local bar, giving them someplace to hang out besides the ranch.

  All the building going on was to provide private living quarters for the married couples. The original idea had been to add suites onto the main house but realizing they needed privacy, especially considering the strains of their job, he’d scrapped that and was building each of them a small house. It was important to him that they be as comfortable as possible. The work they did was grueling and horrifying.

  “I don’t suppose there’s been any word on Melinda?” a soft voice asked.

  Craig turned to see Chloe Guitron beside him, her eyes clouded with perpetual sadness. She and her closest friend Melinda had been putting together a photography book in Zapata County in South Texas when Melinda disappeared.

  “We’re still searching,” Craig told her. “I have men tracing every possible lead and clue.”

  “It happened just at the moment those Chupacabra killings occurred in Zapata,” she reminded him, “and Mark was the only one who believed she’d been taken by the beast.”

  Craig nodded. “With no body it was a hard case for the sheriff to wrap his mind around.”

  “But Mark believed me. So did you. Only…”

  “Yes, only our theory now is that someone is breeding these creatures from hell and whoever it is has taken Melinda.”

  No trace had been found of the woman although Craig had pulled out all the stops. Now he had people out in cyberspace tracking and tracing every mention of the devil beast and trying to find where its master lair might be.

  Chloe brushed at a tear that tracked down her cheek. “I know this is a terrible thing to say, but if that’s the case I’d almost rather she was dead.”

  Craig squeezed her shoulder gently. “Let’s not go there yet. And I’ll keep you in the loop on everything. I promise.”

  “You okay, sweetheart?” Mark had come up to stand beside her, looping his arm around her shoulders. “Thinking of Melinda?”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry. I just can’t help it.”

  He kissed her forehead. “No apology necessary. We’ll find her. I promise.”

  Dakota Grey, Jonah’s wife, came up to her and handed her a tiny satin bag tied with a ribbon. “For you. Some special herbs to help with the stress.”

  One of Dakota’s special skills was as an herbalist. Behind the ranch house she had planted the special herbs the shifters needed to maintain biological balance in their bodies. They were especially helpful when they found themselves in places where shifting was impossible for long stretches of time.

  “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

  “I think it’s time for me to make the official toast to the bride and groom,” Craig said.

  But before he could move to the center of the patio a loud bell went off inside the main room of the ranch, its sound floating out through the open patio doors. Everyone froze in position.

  “That’s an incoming message,” Ric Garza, the team leader, said. “Everyone hold on while I check it.”

  He put down his champagne and headed to the massive communications setup. He’d rigged it so when a fax or email or video message was coming through and they were out of the room—like now—a warning bell let them know something important was coming through.

  Impatience ran through the group as they all waited for him to return. In seconds he was back holding a sheet from the fax machine.

  “Logan?” He looked up at the former Montana sheriff. “It’s from your brother-in-law. Greg Mattison.”

  Logan’s brother Wade and sister-in-law Julie had been killed by the Chupacabra. Logan had never heard of the beast until the sheriff’s department couldn’t figure out what had killed them and Logan started doing research on his own. All searches led to the stories of the devil beast, with graphic details of the condition of the different bodies. But no one had been willing to listen to him, brushing his information off as unsubstantiated legends. He’d been looking for someplace to put his rage when the call came about Night Seekers.

  Now he held out his hand. “Let me see?” He scanned the page quickly, grim lines etching his face. “He says there’s been another killing in the area. A ranger in Glacier National Park.” He looked at everyone watching him. “About fifteen miles from Greg’s ranch.”

  “He’s setting up a video call in fifteen minutes,” Ric told him. “I hate to break up the wedding festivities but I think we all need to be present.”

  “Clint? Sophia? I’m sorry to break up the wedding reception this way.” Logan kissed her on the cheek. “But I know both of you are as dedicated to this hunt as the rest of us.”

  “Absolutely,” Sophia assured him. “You know that better than anyone.”

  They had worked together on the killings in Maine—fighting police skepticism as usual—until there was no other answer to be had. And they thought once again they’d killed the beast. But Melinda was still missing and now here was another body.

  “I think we should all go inside and be ready for Greg’s call.”

  Craig began urging them into the main room. The living and dining rooms of the house had long ago been gutted and a state-of-the-art communications setup installed. No matter where any Night Seeker was, connection could be made with some kind of electronic means.

  Each member of the team carried both a regular cell phone and an encrypted one. If one of them was going to be in an area where cell phone reception was expected to be spotty or nonexistent, the team had a full supply of satellite phones and a dish on the roof that the military would envy. Craig had also had his technical people set up each of their laptops to connect with the sat phones so no matter where any of them were a video link could be established if necessary.

  In what they jokingly called the “war room” a shelf had been installed the length of one wall. It held a variety of keyboards, all connected to the central system so more than one team member at a time could work.

  They had just recently installed components for surface computing, a process where users worked on touch-sensitive screens rather than standard keyboards, and the information could be swiped to a designated screen, visible to everyone. Mounted on the wall was a massive monitor screen, with smaller screens to the left and right of it. The arrangements allowed more than one image to be displayed at a time and different users to work on simultaneous projects.

  At the moment text was scrolling rapidly down four different screens, displaying the results of the various ongoing searches. The central monitor screen was blank, but in seconds Ric had it live and ready to receive. Everyone had just taken a seat at the conference table facing the monitors when the alarm rang again and in seconds Greg Mattison’s rugged face appeared on the screen.

  He cleared his throat. “Sorry to break in on everyone this way,” he apologized. “But I thought this was important enough to pass along right away.”

  “You’re absolutely right,” Logan assured him.

  “Hey, bro.” Greg forced a smile. “Sorry I’m bringing bad news into your life again.”

  “That’s what we’re here for. So what have you got?”

  Greg held up a color photo, moving it so it filled most of the screen. Even though everyone in the room had seen the bodies of Chupacabra victims it still didn’t immunize them to the horror whenever they saw one again. And this one was no exception. The body of the park ranger was exactly like all the others—puncture marks on the neck, body ripped open the length of the torso, entrails pulled through the opening.

  “He’d gone up one of the mountain hiking trails after a report of a dead bighorn sheep,” Greg went on. “We found the information on his desk. That’s how we knew where to look for him when he didn’t come back to his station.
”

  “And the bighorn?” Ric asked.

  “Same thing. We found the carcass practically next to Randy’s body.”

  “So it’s following the pattern,” Jonah put in. “Killing wild animals until it finds its human prey.”

  “Yes. I’m checking to see if there are any other remains in the area.”

  “You know it kills in threes,” Logan reminded him. Right after he’d found the bodies of his sister Claire and her husband Jed, another rancher had been found, his body in the same condition.

  “I suppose it’s too much to hope the sheriff’s more willing to listen this time,” Logan growled.

  “I think it’s just too much for him to take in, Logan.” Greg had removed the photo. Now he rubbed his hand over his face as if trying to wipe away the image of what he’d seen. “We’re the only ones who discovered the information to begin with and you know the old saying—if you can’t see it, smell it or touch it then it isn’t real.”

  “It’s damn real,” Logan spat. “He saw Claire’s and Jed’s bodies just like we did. No one at the time could pinpoint any known animal that kills that way.”

  “Well, things haven’t changed. What I want to know is if you can come up here. If your theory is right we can be expecting two more human kills.”

  “It’s more than a theory,” Ric broke in. “We have statistical proof to back it up. I can email or fax everything to you if it will help.”

  Greg shook his head. ”I don’t think it will do a damn bit of good. The sheriff already made it plain he doesn’t want any of what he calls our weirdo theories. And he’ll still be singing that song when more victims turn up. So. Do you think you can get up here?”

  Craig leaned forward. “Greg? Craig Stafford here. I’m the one who formed Night Seekers and got Logan involved. I definitely think he needs to be up there working this. We’re learning what to look for and some semblance of a tracking procedure. Give us a few minutes here and we’ll call you back with details. Keep your computer on with the video.”