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  “Point taken,” he agreed as they headed toward Houlton. “It is a pretty wide-open place.”

  Sophia nodded. “Aroostook is so big folks who live here just call it The County. It’s as big as Connecticut and Rhode Island combined, but the population only tops out at about seven thousand.”

  “Lots of isolated places for the devil beast to hunt. A perfect feeding ground for it.”

  “You bet. There are scattered hunting and fishing camps, of course the potato farmers and logging camps, and just plain isolated homes of people who don’t want society crowding around them. We’ll have a lot of territory to cover.” She glanced over at him. “That’s where you come in.”

  “What about the presence of wolves?” he asked, maneuvering his way carefully around a huge truck hauling logs. “I don’t want anyone out here getting trigger happy if they happen to see me in my wolven form.”

  “The wolf population might be sparse but the people in The County are used to seeing one now and then. There used to be a fair-sized population of gray wolves here but now they’re pretty scarce,” she went on. “There was a strong movement a few years ago to reintroduce a protection program but the federal government said they were already protected under the Endangered Species Act. Mostly what’s here now are the gray wolves which migrate down from Canada.”

  “I wonder if the beast is using its wolf form to hunt.”

  “We don’t know and no one’s reported spotting one. Besides,” she pointed out, “we know we can’t assume that this is the only form it shifts into. If in fact that’s what it’s doing.”

  “We’re lucky we found the report on this kill as quickly as we did.”

  She nodded. “Before it feels compelled to complete its pattern. I wish we knew more.” She pulled a slim folder from the briefcase she’d stashed at her feet. “The man they found owns—owned—a fish camp west of Presque Isle. It’s private property but he opens it to people who stay at the nearby campground in season. Even has a few cabins for folks who come back year after year just for the fishing.”

  “Not much of that going on right now.” Logan bumped up the speed of the windshield wipers.

  “No. And apparently he lived alone so it was a couple of days before anyone missed him. The owner of the campground was trying to call him, got no answer after several tries and headed over there on a snowmobile. Found him on the front porch. Same condition as all the others. What we got off the internet is pretty thin but Craig said they’d have more information for us at the barracks.”

  “I can’t believe they’re actually letting us hook up with them.”

  Sophia made a rude sound. “They’re not, really. If Craig hadn’t worked his contacts and Rebecca hadn’t pushed we’d be here but on the outside looking in, fighting them as well as the devil beast. And be prepared for some animosity. When my nephews were killed and I did all that research on the internet they called me everything but a crazy person. They won’t be welcoming us.”

  Logan pounded a fist on the steering wheel. “Why is it always so damn hard to make people believe what we’re telling them?”

  “You know the answer to that. The majority of the population refuses to accept anything paranormal, especially something as bizarre as this. Anything they can’t see, can’t find a logical explanation for. But with no clues at all and no explanation they’re grudgingly willing to listen to what we have to say. Only because we’ve had experience with similar killings and our input might be valuable. But I’m pretty sure they’re thinking serial killer, not the devil beast.”

  “Even though there were no traces of anyone being there except the dead man?”

  “Uh-huh. Prejudices die hard.”

  “Is your sister the primary on this?”

  “No. She wanted to be but the sergeant gave the lead position to a detective named Robert Lacroix. Bobby. He’s in the Criminal Investigation Division with Bec.”

  “French?”

  “Half. Lot of people ended up in northern Maine when the English kicked the French out of Acadia in Canada.”

  “Is he someone you used to work with?” Logan’s curiosity was mild but evident.

  “Yes. But not that often. I actually worked more out of Bangor.” She sighed. Bobby had made personal overtures the few times they’d worked together indicating that he’d like to take things a little further, but for Sophia the chemistry had not been there. And she hadn’t been interested in just sweating the sheets with a coworker.

  Logan couldn’t keep the curiosity out of his voice. “Sounds like there was more to it than that.”

  “For him, not for me. And it really didn’t go anywhere. Besides, Bobby’s a professional. He won’t let the past interfere with this investigation.” She remembered the first time she’d learned about the Chupacabra, when her twin nephews had been brutally slain and mauled. “I’m hoping Rebecca will pull up the old file about my nephews. Once we get the specifics of this case on the record I plan to convince everyone up the food chain that the cases are related.”

  “The death of your nephews must have been really hard for you.” Logan’s voice was edged with sympathy. “Especially with everyone thinking your theory was crazy and you not being allowed to even work the case.”

  When her twin nephews had been found dead, their bodies in a mutilated condition, she’d had a suspicion based on some things she’d read. She’d gone online to do some heavy research about similar incidents and discovered the Chupacabra. But she seemed to be the only person on the force who believed in the creature. At the time no one had given her theory any credence or was even willing to assign resources to follow it up. Now she was back where it all had started, only with the addition of Night Seekers resources.

  Sophia swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. This was the first time she’d been back to Maine since the call from Craig Stafford asking her to join the Night Seekers and her stomach suddenly knotted as the memory of the scene swept over her. Those two beautiful little boys, ripped open, blood drained, a scene etched in acid in her memory. She’d need every bit of control to keep from falling apart here. Craig Stafford hadn’t hired her to crack wide open. He’d hired her to track a devil beast and that’s what she was going to do.

  She was sure when she and Logan were getting ready for this trip that she’d be fine, that she could deal with returning to the scene of devastation. But hell. It was going to be damn hard not to let her emotions break loose.

  Plus she knew this would be an uphill battle to convince the detective that they were dealing with something beyond human comprehension.

  “Yes, well.” She turned her head and stared out the window. “I know you can relate to that. I mean, I know you were the one who found your family members.”

  “How are your brother and sister-in-law?” Logan asked.

  Sad. Devastated. But infused with a new ray of hope.

  “Shelley’s pregnant,” she told him. “And they’re very excited about it. It’s helping them deal with the loss.”

  “Good. That’s good. I hope I get to meet them.” He paused, then asked as if almost reading her thoughts, “Are you sure you should have taken this gig? That coming back here isn’t too hard for you?”

  “My state, my territory, my nephews to avenge. And don’t worry. I won’t lose it. I’m a disciplined operative, Logan. I can handle this. Just as much as you can. You lost someone, too.”

  His brother and sister-in-law had been destroyed by the act of the devil beast. And like Sophia with her nephews, he’d been the one to find them.

  “Yes, I did.” His voice was taut with sudden emotion. “And I actually dread the moment when I’ll have to return to Montana, even though I know it’s coming sooner or later. Too many painful memories. So I think I know where you’re at.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll be okay. I have to be. Anyway, this is my territory so it’s only logical that I’d be part of this new case. And my sister’s on the CID team that’s handling it.”

  �
��I’m surprised we’re not getting together with everyone in Presque Isle,” he commented.

  “The barracks for this area is in Houlton. That’s the county seat and that facility is the heart of the operation in Aroostook County. There are places we meet in Presque Isle when we need to but for this session the barracks was the most logical choice. Since the killing was around here, they’ll work out of the Houlton barracks.”

  “Any word yet on the hunt for Melinda?”

  Every Night Seeker was focused in some way on the hunt for Chloe Guitron’s close friend who had been taken by the Chupacabra.

  “Nothing. But everyone’s on it in some way.”

  “I hate to say it out loud, but I don’t even want to think of the shape she’ll be in if and when we find her.”

  “I agree.”

  Conversation lagged after that as the snowflakes continued to thicken and Logan concentrated on his driving. Sophia stared out the side window at the familiar landscape, every bit of it stamped into her memory. Empty land rolled away on either side of them, now covered in heavy drifts of snow. Trees reached stark limbs skyward and the lights of oncoming cars were like haloes in the windblown snowfall. She could just imagine the Chupacabra slinking through the cover of winter, seeking its prey. And people, used to the roaming of gray wolves, not shrinking away from it. Ignoring it until it was too late.

  Sophia would never forget the sight of the bodies of her nephews, or the grief her brother Damien and his wife Shelley suffered. She’d promised herself to find this devil beast and kill it one way or another. If the Night Seekers couldn’t do it, no one could. But convincing a bunch of no-nonsense Maine cops that they were dealing with the paranormal would definitely be a struggle.

  In Houlton, where Route 1 intersected with I-95, they passed Skye’s Motel where Craig had reserved rooms for them. Rebecca had offered them a place to stay at her house in Presque Isle but they wanted to be close to the state police barracks, and the crime laboratory. Besides, Sophia knew Logan wanted to have the opportunity to shift and run when he needed to without someone’s curious eyes watching him.

  She and Dante Martello, the former Chicago cop, were the only non-shifters on the team and sometimes she found herself a little jealous of the others.

  “We’re here.”

  Lost in her own thoughts she was startled to discover they’d turned onto Darcie Street and pulled into a parking lot she’d used many times in her life before leaving for the Night Seekers. Like everyplace else, the acreage around it was covered with huge drifts of snow, but the driveway and parking lot had obviously been plowed. The flags at the top of the poles on either side of the front door snapped in the sharp wind.

  They had barely stepped through the door when Sophia felt a small warm body slam into her and slender arms tighten around her.

  “Oh my god. I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Sophia managed to disentangle herself enough to take a step back and look at her sister. Rebecca was as light as Sophia was dark. Blonde where Sophia had raven hair. Startling green eyes where Sophia’s were a green-gray-hazel mixture. But the faces were so similar it was impossible to take them for anything but sisters.

  “How are Shelley and Damien?” she wanted to know.

  “Good. They’re good.” A tiny smiled quirked her lips. “Her pregnancy’s coming along nicely.”

  “They must be thrilled to death. At least,” Sophia added, “it sounded like it the last time I spoke to them.”

  “Absolutely,” Rebecca agreed. “And it’s just such a blessing.”

  Sophia sobered. “How are they reacting to this latest…situation? It’s been all over the newspaper and television. It can’t be an easy thing for them.”

  Bec shook her head. “Not easy at all, although they seem to be handling it okay. I made sure to tell them about it before the story went viral.” She sighed. “At first it just brought everything back about the twins’ deaths but then Damien reminded Shelley they had a new growing life to take care of and she should try not to stress herself out. It’s been hard but they’re handling it.”

  “And your sergeant was okay with you giving them a heads-up?”

  Rebecca shrugged. “He’s a hardass but he still has feelings. He didn’t want them to get slammed in the face with it out of the blue. Although it’s a dicey situation. He’s far from convinced the killings are connected, and he’s certainly not ready to buy into my theory.”

  “But there were two other kills at the same time the boys died,” Sophia pointed out. “That’s the pattern of the beast. Three at a time. What did he say about that?”

  Rebecca made a face. “Deranged serial killer. Using some kind of weird tools.”

  “If that’s the case I can’t believe you got permission to bring us in,” Sophia said. “Usually we have to sneak around back doors and alleys and cook up some strange cover stories. When Cary and Timmy were killed they announced it was a wild animal and that was that.”

  “It wasn’t easy, believe me.” Bec lowered her voice. “But your big boss did some powerful arm twisting.”

  “If anyone can do it, he’s the one,” Sophia agreed. “So what’s the climate here?”

  Rebecca shrugged. “Skeptical. Territorial. Irritated. But there was one thing no one could get around.”

  “What’s that?”

  “When Paul Maquire who owns Crown of the State Sporting Camp went to check on the victim it had stopped snowing. We had to make a guesstimate on time of death but we think it snowed after the kill but stopped before the body was found.”

  “So they had no clue how anyone or anything had gotten to the house to make the kill,” Sophia guessed.

  “You got it. And trust me. These guys don’t like to be confused. Or think they’ve been tricked.”

  Sophia heard a throat being cleared next to her and a voice asking, “Think maybe I could get an introduction?”

  She grinned. “Rebecca, meet Logan Tanner. Logan, this is my sister, Bec.”

  She watched the two of them shake hands and was stunned at the electricity arcing between them that was almost visible. She saw Rebecca’s eyes widen fractionally and Logan’s narrow just a bit. It was at least thirty seconds before they broke eye contact.

  Well, well! Very interesting. But what happens when Bec finds out Logan’s a shifter?

  Dakota had adapted very well as a human mating with a shifter, but Dakota had her own mystical background. Not everyone was as accepting. Sophia might have to do a little groundwork here if things between her sister and her teammate went beyond the incendiary handshake situation.

  “I hate to interrupt, but isn’t everyone waiting for us?” she asked.

  Hands dropped as if burned by fire and both people did their best to act as if nothing unusual had happened.

  “Of course.” Rebecca smoothed a stray hair back toward her ponytail. “Down this hall. By the way,” she glanced at Sophia, “you know your old friend Bobby Lacroix is the lead on the case, right? That a problem for you?”

  “Not as long as he doesn’t make it one. There was never anything between us. My choice, though, not his, so I hope he doesn’t hold grudges.”

  “It won’t be for that,” she laughed. “He’s a newlywed and damn happy about it.” Then she sobered. “But he was the detective who made such an issue of how absurd your claims of the cause of death were when the twins were…slaughtered.”

  “Maybe he’s had a change of heart,” she muttered as they entered a conference room.

  Several people sitting at the table looked up expectantly as they entered. Some of the faces were familiar to Sophia, some of them not. But the man belonging to the most familiar one stood up and held out his hand. He wasn’t smiling.

  “I can’t say it isn’t good to see you, Sophia,” Bobby Lacroix said, “but not under these circumstances.”

  “I understand.”

  They shook hands and introduced Logan to the man who rose beside him.

  “Greg F
lannery. Our sergeant.”

  The big blond man with wide shoulders and gray threaded into his hair shook hands with them, his face expressionless.

  “Your boss…or whatever he is…certainly threw his weight around, making sure we had everything together for you,” he told them. “I hope you’ll be some damn help here but I doubt it. You know how I feel about this insane theory of yours, Sophia.”

  Sophia bit back her irritation. “Craig Stafford doesn’t throw his weight around, as you so bluntly put it. He just has a lot of influence. And I might say, a lot of resources at his disposal. We’re not here to get in your way. We’re here to help and share information. And it isn’t a theory. We have proof. Pictures. Other things.”

  “You have to admit, this whole thing sounds like something out of a horror movie.”

  “You said the same thing when my nephews were victims of the last killing spree,” she pointed out. “You ignored everything I told you yet never found a human being to pin those murders on and now the creature is back again.”

  “The same mythical creature you tried to sell us before.”

  Sophia sighed. “Greg, the Chupacabra is very real. A mutated animal of some sort that kills in a very specific way. It’s not a legend, it’s a fact. Believe me. When you look at the pictures you won’t think that.” She handed the folder to Bobby. “I’ll let you give this out to your folks.”

  “And help you promote this crazy theory of yours again.” His words were clipped. Taut.

  “You won’t know whether it’s crazy or not until you hear what we have to say and look at the evidence,” she pointed out. “We’ve brought all this information with us to share.”

  “Let me ask you a question.” He studied her face. “The other killings we were told about took place in Texas. Why would an animal migrate all the way to Maine and start killing again?”

  Sophia chewed her bottom lip. She’d been wondering if someone would ask that. How to answer it without giving away the real theory, the stuff science fiction nightmares were made of.

  “We’ve only recently come to the conclusion there might be more than one of them. Twice in the last few months we thought we’d killed it only to have it turn up again in another state. It’s possible,” she said slowly, “that it’s a hybrid of some type that over time has spread out to different areas of the country.”