Lust Unleashed (Night Seekers, Book One) Page 8

  She waited for a long moment until he spotted her and stopped hammering.

  “I guess you won’t finish today,” she called up to him.

  He shook his head. “Roof’s in bad shape. Doors, too.”

  “Okay. You can bed down in one of the empty stalls in the barn. There’s good clean hay you can fill it with.”

  He shaded his eyes with a hand. “You ain’t got a bed I can use?”

  Her body tightened. “No one goes into that house but me.”

  He stared down at her for a long moment, then shrugged and picked up his hammer again.

  “I’ll leave your supper on the porch,” she called and turned back to the house. The day had turned unseasonably hot but for a moment she felt a chill creep up her back, as if something otherworldly had slipped into her presence. Deliberately she shook it off and hurried inside.

  * * * * *

  Jonah hadn’t realized how hungry he was until Dakota put a bowl of vegetable soup in front of him with thick slabs of homemade bread. Just the aromas made his mouth water. He’d pulled on his jeans but left his shirt at the foot of the bed. He’d have been happy if Dakota had decided to eat naked, but she’d pulled on a long t-shirt that just skimmed the tops of her thighs. When she stretched up to reach dishes in the cabinet the shirt rode up just enough for him to see the luscious rounded bottom of her ass and make his cock harden against the denim of his jeans.

  Maybe sitting across from her naked wouldn’t be the best idea after all.

  But even in the t-shirt she was an unconscious temptress. Every time she leaned forward to dip up her soup with her spoon her breasts pushed against the soft knit material and the tips of her nipples practically stared at him. At one point he nearly missed his mouth with the spoon and Dakota burst into laughter.

  “Are you always this horny?” she wanted to know.

  Jonah spewed a mouthful of soup into his bowl. “Excuse me?”

  She grinned, a smile half lusty, half shy. “You haven’t taken your eyes off my breasts since we sat down at the table. Is it me, or are you just overly obsessed with that part of a woman’s anatomy?”

  He hadn’t realized how obviously he’d been staring, almost trying to see through the fabric as he remembered how those ripe, luscious globes had felt in his hands, tasted in his mouth. He hadn’t felt this fixated on a woman since…

  No. I won’t go there.

  And he really didn’t want to. For the first time in two years he actually felt alive again. Had felt something more in sex than just a physical release. On the one hand he felt almost disloyal, as if he was betraying Jenna in some way. On the other, he was happy to discover that he wasn’t dead yet. That there was more to life for him than just breathing. Still, he had a mission, one he couldn’t wander away from, and he needed to remember that.

  “Jonah?”

  He shook himself mentally. Dakota was speaking to him and obviously expecting some kind of response from him.

  “I’m sorry. What was the question?”

  She laughed again, a soft musical sound that made his cock flex and his balls tingle. Jesus, everything about this woman was turning him on.

  “Never mind. Just eat your soup. I’ll take your fascination as a compliment.” She ate two more spoonfuls. “Can I ask you something?”

  Jonah stopped with his spoon halfway to his mouth. His senses told him trouble was slithering across the table. “Sure. What would you like to know?”

  “You seem pretty intense about this story. Like it’s more than an assignment to you. Am I right?”

  He finished the spoonful of soup, put the spoon back in the bowl and carefully buttered a slice of bread while he collected his thoughts. “I just want to do a good job for my boss.”

  Dakota shook her head. “No, it’s more than that. It’s the way you ask your questions. And when you were taking the pictures today, I got the feeling…well…that there was something personal about this.” One corner of her mouth lifted in a half-smile. “Besides, I’m part Native American. We’re supposed to have intuitive reasoning, remember?”

  “Is that so? I thought you told me that was a lot of hogwash.” He bit off a piece of bread, chewed slowly, watching her. Something had shifted subtly between them.

  She dipped up more of her soup. “I don’t really discuss that part of my heritage with anyone. I have enough trouble with the redneck idiots around here as it is. But I sense some kind of a connection between us, so I feel not as uncomfortable telling you that, yes, I sense things. Just like I did at the kill site today.”

  “And exactly what is it you ‘sense’?” he asked. He made himself breathe slowly, easing the tension that wanted to grip every muscle and fire every nerve. She couldn’t know about him, could she? No. Impossible. But there was something…

  “I told you. There’s a personal angle here. You’re involved.” She put her spoon down and reached across the table, resting her hand on his arm. “Can you trust me enough to tell me? I know we just met, but…”

  “Yes. But.” He felt the surge of heat from her touch spear throughout his system. He had a sudden urge to strip off her t-shirt and take her right there on the floor. Forget about everything but losing himself in her welcoming warmth. “You’re right. I do have my own agenda.”

  She waited patiently as he pulled his thoughts together. He hadn’t discussed Jenna with anyone but Craig Stafford and Night Seekers since the police closed the case on her death, chalking it off to a marauding wild animal.

  “I was…engaged to be married. To a woman who would be my lifemate. We lived in a pretty rural area in Alabama. I came home late one night after work and…found her body.” He closed his eyes, the painful scene rushing back to him. “There were…puncture wounds on her neck, all her blood had been drained and her stomach ripped open.”

  “Oh, Jonah. I am so sorry.” She had left her hand on his arm. Now she slid it down to tangle her fingers with his.

  “I’ve never been able to get the picture out of my mind.” He blew out a breath. “Didn’t mean to spoil our meal.”

  “No, no. I feel stupid for making you relive it. I had no idea…” She shook her head, then raised her eyes to his again. “You used an unusual term to describe your relationship with your fiancée. You called her lifemate. Is there a special reason? I thought being engaged and getting married implied that.”

  How should he answer her? They had been together less than twenty-four hours, scarcely enough time to unveil himself to her. But lust was coiling within him, unhampered by the memory of Jenna, and he thought back to her earlier question—are you always this horny?

  Yes. As a shifter with a mixture of pure human and pure wolf blood his sexual urges were always in overdrive. He’d been terrified when he’d had to explain who and what he was to Jenna, but she had unbelievably taken it all in stride. He’d given her the ancient book to read, the one that was his legacy, and left her alone to study it. It had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed to stay away from her while she absorbed his history. Then, two nights later she had knocked on his door, handed him his book, and taken off her coat. She was completely naked underneath the fabric. When she held out her arms to him his heart had leaped in his chest and he gave thanks to every god and goddess watching over him.

  Could he find the same thing with Dakota? Had he been led here for that very reason?

  “It’s…just a term. One that others I know use. Maybe one of these days I’ll explain to you exactly how binding it is.”

  She looked at him strangely, then shrugged and picked up her spoon again. “All right. Did you get your pictures sent all right?”

  “Yes. I’ll call my office later and see what they think about them.”

  “Do you have pictures from other, um, sites, also?”

  He nodded. “We’ll see if there are any similarities, but I don’t hold out much hope. This devil just seems to, I don’t know, dematerialize. Or something. When we checked the entire area around my house t
here was nothing. No trace that anything living had even been there, human of animal.”

  Dakota’s face paled under its beautiful bronze coloring. “So you’re saying that the Chupacabra is something supernatural.”

  Yes, you’re damn right.

  “That’s what I’m saying.” He started to say something else, thought better of it and clamped his lips shut.

  “You were going to say it’s no different from any Native American legends I might have grown up with, right?”

  Jonah laid his spoon carefully on the table, wiped his mouth and set his napkin precisely next to his bowl. When he looked up he made every effort to keep his voice calm and even.

  “Dakota. We aren’t going to get very far with anything if you get your back up every time you think I might be making a slur on your heritage. Can we call some kind of truce here? I’m not the enemy.”

  She looked down at her half-empty bowl. “You have to understand something, Jonah. I’m a hybrid. My mother’s people shun me as much as my father’s. I’ve learned to develop my defenses, keep my shields up. It makes it easier not to be hurt.”

  “Look at me,” he commanded. When she raised her eyes, he continued, “When you’re a little less prickly and a lot more receptive, I’ll tell you a hybrid story that will make yours seem like a nursery rhyme. But for now, just know that I have the utmost respect for you and your heritage. All your heritage. And I will never do anything to hurt you or make you feel less than the wonderful person you are.”

  She looked at him for a long time, emotions he couldn’t begin to understand chasing themselves across her face and rising in turbulent waves in her eyes. Because he was intuitive he sensed her inner struggle, the need to hold back conflicting with the desire to open up to him.

  “All right.” her answer came out on a long breath. “But it’s so ingrained in me you’ll have to help me if I falter.”

  He nodded. “Always.”

  “Why do I feel this…connection to you, Jonah? I barely know you.”

  “I feel it to. There are very good reasons for this but I don’t think you’re ready to hear the explanation.”

  “But when will that be? What’s so difficult you can’t just tell me?”

  He gave her a rueful smile. “Trust me. We’ll both know when the time is right. Meanwhile, let’s not let this delicious soup go to waste.”

  They ate in a comfortable silence, broken only when Dakota put her spoon down again and cleared her throat. He looked across the table at her.

  “Jonah?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ve never had another man here. In this place. My home.”

  Jonah stared at her, something shifting inside him. “Never?”

  She shook her head. “I never have anyone here. This is my sanctuary. I won’t want people to invade it.”

  He sat back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on her. “Then why did you invite me?”

  Her lips curved in a tiny smile. “Well, you weren’t exactly going away.”

  “We could have talked on the porch.” He grinned. “Or you could have shot me.”

  She laughed outright. “Don’t think I wasn’t tempted.” Then the sober expression returned to her face. “Will I sound crazy if I tell you we have a connection?”

  “No.” He reached across the table for one of her hands. “It’s there. I’m damned if I know why and I sure as hell wasn’t expecting it, but I learned long ago not to question things like that.”

  “Answer a question for me.” Her face sobered. “Is it just the sex? Are you saying that because you want to fuck me?”

  He was shocked at first at the crudity of her language and then at her assumption. Had he given her that idea? Sure, he’d taken a lot of women for a mindless quick fuck, but he always told them first. Made it very clear. He was sure he hadn’t done that with Dakota. Like he said, he wasn’t looking for something but the alpha of his former pack had always said you find it where it’s meant to be.

  So how to answer her without opening up a can of worms he wasn’t prepared to deal with yet? He couldn’t tell her yet about being a shifter but he could at least get rid of the most obvious falsehood.

  “If you’re cooking up some lie,” she went on when he didn’t answer, “forget it. I can handle truth.”

  “No lies,” he told her. “I’m just trying to figure out how to say what I want to without you thinking it’s a line. So, okay. Whatever’s going on between us is more than hello and goodbye. I think we’ve figured that out. Right?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Dakota, the way we connected sexually is a lot more than a maybe. It might not have a name yet but it’s there.” He blew out a breath. “And because it is, I’m going to tell you something that has to stay just between us. That means I trust you.”

  Her face was a mask, unreadable, but the look in her eyes was intense. “Go ahead.”

  “This thing with the magazine is just a cover story.” He pressed his palms to his knees so he wouldn’t be tempted to fiddle with his spoon or shred his paper napkin while he talked, anything that might give her the wrong impression.

  “You’re not a writer or reporter or whatever your business card says.”

  He shook his head. “I’m part of a very shadowy group called Night Seekers. Everyone in the group comes from some area of law enforcement. What binds us together is we’ve each lost someone very close to us to the Chupacabra.”

  Her eyes widened, the tensing of facial muscles betraying both surprise and shock. “So you’ve seen him? It? Whatever?”

  “No. That’s part of the problem. But everyone died the same way, same bite marks on the neck, body drained of blood then disemboweled. And no evidence left behind, not even animal prints.”

  “But it could be an animal of some kind,” she insisted. “I mean, a lot of people have always thought it was just a coyote or even a wolf.”

  “They leave tracks. And a particular scent. None of that was present at any of these kills.”

  Dakota cocked her head and studied him. “So how many of you are there and who runs this show? Who puts up the money? This can’t be a cheap operation.”

  Jonah nodded. “It’s not. There are eight of us and we have a very wealthy benefactor whose name I can’t tell you. It’s not important, anyway.”

  “And do you all work on each case?”

  “No. We drew straws to see in what order we’d go. Hoping, of course, that after the first one we’d have found the beast, killed it and be done with it.” He picked up his glass of water and took a swallow. “We’re pretty new and I’m the first up. The others provide support and backup back at our headquarters.”

  “Do you—”

  He held up his hand, palm out, and stood up. “That’s all I can tell you right now. I have to get permission for more. Why don’t we wash these dishes and I’ll call and check on what they did with the pictures I sent.”

  He saw the frustration chase itself across her face but she sighed and rose from her chair, picking up her bowl and glass. “Fine. But just so you know, I’m not through asking questions.”

  He smiled. “I didn’t think you were.”

  * * * * *

  The animal was restless, agitated, hungry. Hungry for blood. The lust was surging up within it, a living thing that required enormous control. Wishing full dark would arrive, it lay down and pillowed its head. Its body was tired but sleep would not come.

  Around it the sounds of night were especially sharp. Nocturnal birds were calling to each other. Night predators wandered in their quest for prey but none so hungry as the beast. Saliva dripped from its oddly shaped mouth, lips drawn back to reveal the teeth with finely honed points. The urge to kill was so strong it drew its entire body up into one tight mass of muscle. But the instinct for self-preservation was stronger. To kill right now could mean its own death.

  Scents drifted across its nose, carried by the gentle night breeze. The animal scents of cattle and horses, deer, feral
hogs, foxes, raccoons. Abundant vegetation like greasewood, white brush, retama and catclaw. And the rich aroma of black earth. All of them like feathers teasing at his senses.

  The urge was so strong the beast nearly bit itself in suppressed rage at the forced impotency.

  Rolling over, it clamped its jaws shut and tried to ease the tension in its body. But as the moon rose higher and coyotes howled in the distance, it knew the control would only last for so long.

  Chapter Six

  “Let’s look at the pictures one more time.”

  Sam Brody stood behind Sophia with his ever-present mug of coffee, studying the big screen on the wall. His eyes felt gritty and he was beginning to wonder if all this coffee was destroying his brain. He couldn’t seem to manage a single coherent thought.

  “Okay, Sam, but I don’t think we’ll find anything new.” Sophia whisked her fingers across the screen on her desk, dragging the pictures up to the wall screen. In seconds she had the shots from each of the killings they’d been connected to side by side with the ones Jonah had sent from Eagle Pass.

  “There is one similarity,” Ric Garza said.

  “What?” Sam and Sophia both spoke at once.

  “There’s nothing there.” He pointed to each picture. “The ground around the scene is not disturbed at all. So how does this…animal get there and then get away?”

  “Every site is in a rural or sparsely populated area,” Sophia added. “But we knew that.”

  “Let’s put the big map up on the wall,” Ric suggested. “We’ll put a marker at each location, then see if we can figure out some kind of pattern.”

  “We’ve done that before,” Sam reminded him.

  “I know.” The frustration in Ric’s voice was harsh. “But we have to try again. There has to be something here. Maybe even some kind of migration pattern. If we look hard enough we’ll find it.”

  “It’s been everywhere.” Dante Martello had moved up silently to join them. “I should know.”

  “But it didn’t attack your family in the city,” Sam commented.

  “No. My folks had gone on vacation to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. I think that’s the only episode reported in that state. So either it has a pattern of movement around the country or there’s more than one of it.”