Lust Unleashed (Night Seekers, Book One)

  Lust Unleashed

  Desiree Holt

  Jonah Grey, driven by a lust for the blood of the legendary Chupacabra that murdered the woman who was to be his mate, jumps at the offer to leave the FBI and join Night Seekers, who are dedicated to hunting and killing the devil beast.

  Then Jonah encounters a woman with whom he shares explosive chemistry that neither can deny—and sex that brings a level of pleasure neither has ever known. Soon he’s dividing his time and indulging in erotic bouts of orgasmic lust with Dakota.

  But the devil beast must still be dealt with, and the wolf in Jonah won’t rest until the Chupacabra is dead.

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Lust Unleashed

  ISBN 9781419929328

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Lust Unleashed Copyright © 2010 Desiree Holt

  Edited by Helen Woodall

  Cover art by Syneca

  Electronic book publication August 2010

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Lust Unleashed

  Desiree Holt

  Dedication

  To all the law enforcement officers who have been so helpful, to the Texas Department of Parks and Wildlife, but most of all to the wolf down the street. This is for you.

  Author Note

  Like other creatures in the cryptozoologist’s barnyard, the chupacabra has been variously described. Some witnesses have seen a small half-alien, half-dinosaur tailless vampire with quills running down its back; others have seen a pantherlike creature with a long snakelike tongue; still others have seen a hopping animal that leaves a trail of sulfuric stench. Some think it may be a type of dinosaur heretofore unknown. Some are convinced that the wounds on animals whose deaths have been attributed to the chupacabra indicate an alien presence. However, they do not attribute the “mutilations” to the aliens themselves, but to one of their pets or experiments gone awry. Such creatures are known as Anomalous Biological Entities [ABEs] in UFO circles.

  ~From Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Google: Google, Inc.

  Kawasaki Mule: Kawasaki Motors Corp., U.S.A.

  Stetson: John B. Stetson Company

  Styrofoam: Dow Chemical Company

  Wikipedia: Wikimedia Foundation, Inc.

  Prologue

  Craig Stafford sat at the head of the huge oak table in the dining room of the isolated ranch house and looked at the other people gathered there. He’d chosen carefully and he hoped wisely. The atmosphere in the room crackled with tension and expectancy. The eight men and women who stared back at him were all seasoned law enforcement veterans of one kind or another. But what really bound them together—what had really drawn them to answer his invitation—was an unsatisfied thirst for vengeance, much like his own.

  “Thank you all for coming.” He nodded at the tall woman in jeans and plaid shirt. “Angie has made a large pot of coffee, but we also have tea for anyone who prefers it, as well as something a bit stronger.”

  Everyone indicated coffee would be good and Angie distributed full mugs to them.

  “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I asked you here,” the billionaire began, scanning faces again.

  “You said it would be about the Chupacabra.” This from Jonah Grey, FBI agent. The Chupacabra had killed Jenna, the human he was about to mate with.

  The legend of the Chupacabra occupied a huge place in folklore. Some believed it to be just that—a legend. Others, like Craig Stafford, who had seen its handiwork, knew it was real. The first sightings were reported in Puerto Rico, where a farmer found his goats slaughtered, hence the name, literally translated to “goat sucker”. People who claimed to have seen it reported a hellish animal with the head of a wolf and sharp fangs. For those sitting at the table who were shapeshifters, this degradation of the wolf was a personal insult.

  Now the legend’s infamy had spread through both North and South America, reported from places as far apart as Maine and Wyoming. But Texas and Mexico had the most incidents, which was why Stafford was basing the team here.

  “Yes. That’s correct.” Stafford was aware that Jonah was a shifter, another reason he’d been included. He stared at his coffee cup for a long moment. “You all know that my wife, Julia, and my daughter, Andrea, were killed several months ago. Slaughtered.” The pain, always near the surface, stabbed through him like hot metal. He’d been the one to find them in the north pasture of their ranch, a scene he’d never forget no matter how long he lived. One that opened the gates of hell for him every night.

  “By an animal of some sort,” Jonah said.

  Stafford turned his piercing gaze on him. “I won’t sugarcoat this. Here in this room I’m going to tell you that it was the Chupacabra. It has every sign of that beast’s usual attacks, despite what the authorities wanted me to believe.”

  Everyone knew what that meant—puncture wounds at the throat, every drop of blood drained from the body, abdomen ripped open. They all looked at each other. They’d seen it before, too. Up close and personal.

  “It’s been months since they died,” Stafford continued, bitter memories choking him. “I’ve been stonewalled and placated by every law enforcement agency in this state and this country. Scientists and zoologists have argued with me. But no one has stated positively that the Chupacabra is the killer or that they have any clue to what happened. I know, and each of you knows, because it happened to you.”

  Everyone shifted uneasily, but they had their attention fixed on their host.

  “Another point. Besides everyone at this table being in some area of law enforcement, six of you are shifters, with pure wolf ancestry. I think that’s important in tracking this hellish beast.” He paused, staring into his coffee. “I’m going to share something with you that very few people are aware of. I, too, am a shifter, separated long ago from my pack.”

  Chelsea Roland, a private investigator, leaned forward. “I’m in the same situation you are.” She looked at the others. “Maybe we all have the same story in one way or another. My sister was a victim.” She swallowed hard.

  A soft murmuring of sound filled the room.

  “And that’s the basis for this gathering.” Stafford let his gaze travel around the table, studying each one in turn. “I propose we form our own pack. A group that will incorporate all the law enforcement skills you bring with you
plus the highly developed senses of the shifters.”

  “What about those of us who aren’t shifters?” The question came from Dante Martello, Chicago Police Department. “My wife was killed by the beast while we were on vacation, so I’m definitely in, but are we the odd men—or women—out?”

  Stafford shook his head. “Not at all. You bring specially honed skills with you that I consider very valuable to this team. If you all agree to form this team, you will each resign your current positions and relocate here to this ranch. I own the property. It’s isolated enough to keep prying neighbors away and as secure as technology can make it. Angie will take care of all the cooking and household chores, and two of my best hands will handle the heavier chores as well as providing additional security.”

  “Besides the similarities in the killings, there’s one more thing we need to be very aware of.” Chelsea looked around the table at everyone. “I Googled everything I could find about the beast and the killings. There isn’t a lot because people usually try to deny it.” She stopped, took a breath. “But I did pick up a couple of very valuable pieces of information. The killings usually come in threes. Three separate attacks. And the sites are not too far away from each other.”

  “I discovered that, too.” Mark Guitron, former deputy sheriff in Montana nodded his head. “Always three incidents before the beast leaves the area to hunt somewhere else. And always in an area partly isolated from the other people.”

  “Jenna and I lived right outside the city where the land became pretty rural,” Jonah put in. We liked being away from other people.”

  Dante Martello leaned forward. “My wife and I were staying at a vacation cabin in Maine when it happened.”

  Voices murmured around the table as others shared bits and pieces of the circumstances of their own tragedies.

  “What all this means,” Stafford told them, “is that when we get a report of a killing we need to be vigilant and know the devil beast isn’t through with that area yet. It’s impossible to predict where it will strike so tracking it will be difficult, but we can make educated guesses. We just have to do the best we can.”

  “Will you be providing the money?” someone asked. “This looks to be an expensive operation.”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “I will fund the entire operation and there will be no limit to what you can spend.” He waved his hand in the air. “This house has ten bedrooms and sits in the middle of five hundred acres. It’s surrounded by an electrified fence and we have a state-of-the-art alarm system so we don’t have unannounced visitors.”

  “So we’re isolated here.” This from Ric Garza, former Texas Ranger and another shifter. “Not that I care. I haven’t mingled well in society since I found my mother’s body.”

  Stafford nodded. “Yes. And the place has an appropriate name, both for its location and the situation. Desolation Ranch.”

  “What about personal funds?” Garza asked. “If we leave our present jobs we’ll need some way to earn a living.”

  Stafford nodded. “A good point. You will each be very well compensated.” He pointed to a stack of papers in front of him. “I have a contract here for each of you to sign if you’re in that spells everything out very clearly—what you’ll be paid, how, what your responsibilities will be. But you must agree to be in this for however long it takes to track this monster down and kill him.”

  “Does this group have a name of some kind?” Martello wanted to know.

  Stafford looked around the table. “Yes, it does, and I hope you all approve. I’m calling it Night Seekers. Because while all your skills are sharp at any time, you operate especially well at night. And that’s when this devil does his murderous work.”

  “And our purpose?” Jonah Grey asked.

  Stafford gave them each his steely gaze again, studying them one at a time as if to assure himself they would all understand the directive.

  “Find and destroy the Chupacabra.”

  Chapter One

  Jonah Grey padded silently through the tall prairie grass, the soft night breeze ruffling the smoky gray fur of his pelt. A variety of scents teased at his nostrils, the aroma of persimmon which grew wild here and the distinctly Texas scent of mesquite, but he’d been following one specific one for some time. He’d been the first up for Night Seekers, first to be assigned a case, and his blood was raging with the need to satisfy his thirst for vengeance.

  He could still see the bodies of the two hunters and the deer, the images imprinted on his brain. As if he’d ever forget them. The bodies were one more example of the blood lust of the beast he sought.

  The scene had awakened the beast within him, the creature he’d had to forcibly quiet for months. The one that wanted to avenge Jenna’s death. Looking at the hunters he’d seen again the terrible image of her bloodless, ravaged, a nightmare that was always with him. It invaded his sleep with horrendous scenes, colored his every waking thought. Even now it was as clear as if he had a photograph in front of him. And as usual, it made him sick to his stomach.

  And the same question kept pounding in his brain—why? Why had the devil animal that legend called the Chupacabra chosen sweet, beautiful Jenna as his victim?

  The offer to join Night Seekers had been like an answer to his prayers. A chance to hunt the animal with others of his kind, unfettered by the constraints of the law. Not that Jonah disdained the law. As an FBI agent he’d developed a great reputation for upholding the law and catching criminals.

  But the Chupacabra knew no law. He killed at will and with no reason. Came and went like a ghost in the night, leaving almost no trace to follow. Almost, but not quite. It would take Night Seekers to bring him down.

  This was the first lead that had come to the group since it was formed two months ago. Now they had to follow it up and see what leads, if any, were available.

  Jonah had arrived two days ago in human form and checked into one of the few motels he found. There wasn’t much to scope out in the area. Maverick County, one of the poorest in the country, had only one city—Eagle Pass—and a lot of wild, untamed land. And the sheriff hadn’t been too anxious to discuss the killings or hear anything about “a stupid superstition”. And he really had no way, without revealing everything, to tell the sheriff the beast wasn’t finished with Maverick County yet. There were still two more attacks to come.

  Now in his wolf form Jonah was following trails that didn’t work for him as a human. Just moments ago he’d leaped the fence around one of the preserves. Now he moved through the plentiful vegetation, rocky outcroppings and copses of trees, seeking, seeking, seeking. This was fertile feeding ground for the Chupacabra. As a human he wouldn’t have been able to pick up the scent. As the wolf, he could follow it.

  The night was clear. A half-moon hung in the sky with a handful of stars sprinkled around it. Jonah continued to pick his way among the brush and trees, following the faint scent. Starting at the spot where the bodies had been found, he trailed through one hunting preserve and into another. Whitetails, disturbed by the strange appearance of a wolf, leaped and raced away at his approach.

  The scent carried him to the far boundary of the second preserve and he stopped at the fence. He’d been tracking for more than an hour now, across the two massive preserves, and the trail continued. Beyond the barbed wire fence open land rolled away from him. Small hills that were little more than outcroppings of rock. More oak and piñon trees. Black brush, guayacan, huisache. His super-sharp hearing picked up the scurrying sounds of small animals, scenting the wolf and running from him.

  I’m not the danger. I’m not the one you have to fear.

  Ric Garza had urged him to be very diligent. “Lots of hunters down that way,” he told Jonah. “They’d love to bag a wolf.

  “No problem, compadre,” Jonah told him. “Been there, done that.”

  Garza, the former Texas Ranger who was part of Night Seekers, had become the de facto head, although there really wasn’t a boss. Unless of course you counted Cra
ig Stafford, the money man. But Garza had the greatest knowledge of Texas and the legend. And had been hunting the devil longer than any of them. At ten years old he’d found his mother’s body next to the goat tethered in their yard. It had colored his outlook forever.

  Jonah definitely was cautious. He’d parked his SUV in a carefully scouted hiding place not far from the first preserve, stripped and left his clothes inside. A magnetic box clipped a spare key to the underside of the vehicle in a place where he could easily retrieve it. Then, as the wolf, he’d set out, using his keen eyesight to search for hidden enemies, always scenting the wind for humans as well as his prey.

  He’d gone about another mile when he saw it. Cresting a small rocky hill, he saw a narrow stream gurgling below and a shallow layer of rocks leading up to a cabin sitting at the end of a scrabbly dirt road. Ranchers would call it a line shack. Just a square block sitting out here in the middle of god-awful noplace. A narrow porch ran along the front of the cabin and light shone through one window.

  Who the hell would live way out here if they didn’t have to?

  But at least they weren’t totally cut off from civilization. A small pickup truck sat beneath a lean-to next to a generator, and a satellite dish on the roof was silhouetted against the night sky. Whoever it was still communicated with the rest of the world.

  Jonah sat back on his haunches and sniffed the air. The scent of the Chupacabra had been fading and now it had all but disappeared. There wasn’t even a faint sound in the air except the distant wail of coyotes. Where had the animal gone? Surely not in the cabin. Nothing the team had learned indicated it either had human qualities or lived with a human. Of course, anything was possible.