Branded by Lust: 4 (Night Seekers) (12 page)

“What’s up?” Rebecca asked.

“Little change in our plans for the morning. It appears our
devil beast has made one of his daytime appearances.”

* * * * *

The creature crawled back into its cave, its blood lust
slaked for the moment. Hunting this morning had been a bad idea. The programmed
functions of its brain told him that. But the place was isolated with thick
copses of trees dotting the landscape. Perfect hiding places until nightfall.

The chips in its brain signaling when to shift were sending
out jolts of pain, a signal that the beast had deviated from the plan imprinted
there. The pain increased in intensity until it was so bad the devil beast
howled in pain and shoved its head against the frozen wall of its hiding place.
Maybe the cold would ease the agony but it didn’t seem to help.

And now all of its other signals were thrown off. In this
condition it wouldn’t be able to hunt again for a day or two and the lust would
be raging inside.

The beast began alternately clawing at itself and banging
its head against the frozen snow. When the pain didn’t abate it lifted its head
and let loose with a screeching roar.

* * * * *

Ben Crater stood at the big window in his living room and
watched the big truck coming down his driveway. It didn’t belong to anyone he
knew and it sure as hell wasn’t the sheriff’s. Who the hell was “dropping in”
to see him? And what had happened to the sheriff? Did he think Ben’s call was a
prank? Something from an idiot?

The driver’s side door of the truck opened and a man taller
and broader than Ben climbed out, a sheepskin rancher’s coat protecting him
from the cold, his Stetson pulled low over his face. He walked around to open
the passenger door and help a woman out of the truck. Even with her heavy
winter clothing Ben could see she was slender. She hunched down into her collar
as thick blonde hair swirled in the wind.

What the hell?

Was this some do-gooder couple coming to give him a welfare
check? He thought people around here respected privacy.

They clomped onto his porch and seconds later there was a
heavy knock on the door. For a moment he considered just not answering, hoping
they hadn’t seen him at the window. But then a knock sounded again—heavier this
time—and he sighed. Apparently there was nothing for it but to let them in then
get them out as soon as possible. He pasted a smile on his face and pulled the
door open.

“Can I help you?” He hoped his voice sounded polite but
aloof.

“I’m Logan Tanner,” the man said. “I have a ranch the other
side of Overlook.” He held out his hand.

Ben shook it briefly. “You’re quite a ways from home, aren’t
you?”

“Actually Rance Danvers asked us to come here.” He turned to
the woman. “This is Rebecca Black. Could we come in?”

Ben frowned. “The sheriff asked you to come here? Why didn’t
he come himself? Or did he think my story was so unbelievable he didn’t want to
waste his time on it?”

“On the contrary. He sent Rebecca and me
because
of
that story.” He gestured impatiently. “Listen, I could explain a lot more if we
weren’t standing out here freezing our asses off.”

Ben stared at them for a moment, wondering if they were a
couple of crazies he should send on their way or listen to what they had to
say. By this time he was already wondering if he’d just been hallucinating. He
guessed it wouldn’t hurt anything to hear what they had to say.

He took a step back from the doorway. “Of course. Come on
in. I’m guessing you can tell me I’m crazy as much as the sheriff can.”

As they brushed past him a strange sensation vibrated
through his body.
What the hell?
But it was gone so quickly he wondered
if he’d imagined it. They wiped their boots carefully on the mat before
following Ben into the living room.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” he asked, determined to at
least be polite.

“That would be great,” the man—Logan—said.

Ben led them into the kitchen where they took off their
jackets and gloves. He gestured for them to sit at the table then opened a
cupboard to take down mugs. The pot of coffee he’d brewed when he came back
into the house was still fresh. He filled mugs and carried them to the table,
then took his own seat.

“Okay,” he said. “Tell me what the hell is going on here.”

The man and woman looked at each other. Finally Logan Tanner
took a swallow of his coffee, set the mug down and looked directly at Ben.

“Tell me exactly what you saw in the barn. Don’t try to
downplay anything because you think I won’t believe it or change it for the
same reason. Just give me every detail you can remember.”

Ben took a drink from his own mug before describing the
hellish monster he’d seen. And everything that had happened. Just the retelling
gave him the shivers.

“So, does that ring any bells with you? Are you from the
wildlife commission or something like that? Or did you come here to tell me I
need a shrink?”

“No.” It was—
what was her name? Oh yeah, Rebecca
—who
answered him. “No. Nothing like that at all. We’re here because we’re part of a
highly specialized team called Night Seekers.”

Night Seekers? Ben had never heard of them before. “What
exactly is it you do with these…?”

Rebecca and Logan exchanged glances again.

“I’ll let Logan explain,” she said.

Logan took another swig of his coffee before he carefully
set his mug down. His movements were deliberate, as if he was giving himself
time to choose his words.

“This may require a willing suspension of disbelief from
you,” he began, “but a lot of what I’m about to tell you can be found on the internet.
Have you ever heard of the legend of the Chupacabra?”

Ben stared at him. “You want to tell me about a
legend
?What the hell?”

“Just bear with me,” Logan said, taking another swallow of
coffee. “Believe me when I tell you that every word you’ll hear is the truth
and there are eyewitnesses to prove it.” He motioned toward Rebecca. “Including
the two of us.”

Then, as simply and basically as possible, he related
information that had Ben’s hair standing on end and ice-skating along his
spine. What Logan Tanner was describing to him was worse than any horror movie
he’d ever seen. Worse than anything he’d seen in Iraq and Afghanistan, and
that
had been a theater of horrors he didn’t think he’d ever get out of his mind.

When Logan finished his narrative he sat back in his chair.
Ben knew he and Rebecca were studying him, waiting for his reaction. He
finished his coffee, even though by now it was barely lukewarm. Then to give
himself a few moments to collect his thoughts he brought the pot to the table,
gesturing to see if anyone wanted seconds. He refilled all the mugs while
everything he’d heard was percolating in his brain.

Finally he took his seat again and looked at the two people
across from him.

“I’d say you’re both crazy, making this up or pulling a con,”
he told them, “if I hadn’t seen this creature myself.”

Logan leaned forward. “You saw it? Yourself? Are you sure?”

Ben nodded. “There’s no mistaking it, not based on your
description. It showed up outside my barn looking like the creature from hell.”

Rebecca’s laugh was far from humorous. “That describes it
all right.”

“I swear to god,” he went on, “I thought my heart stopped
beating. But where in the fucking hell did it come from? According to what you
tell me it’s struck in so many different places. It seems like you track one
down and kill it, only to have it pop up again hundreds of miles away. What’s
the deal?”

Rebecca fiddled with her coffee mug. “The man who funds
Night Seekers has scientists working around the clock to find the answer. We
now believe someone is breeding these devil beasts and—”

“Breeding them?” Ben interrupted. “Are you shitting me? What
the fuck?” For a moment he wondered if he’d stepped into an alternate universe.

But Logan just nodded. “Combining different DNAs.
Experimenting to see what works best.” He leaned forward. “And the sickest
part? He’s also using human DNA.”

“And,” Rebecca added, “the scientists are finding memory
chips implanted in the brain matter that we think are programmed with different
signals. Like how to hunt prey, what areas to cover, how far apart the kills
should be. They’re still trying to pull all the information from the chips.”

Ben raked his fingers through his hair. “This is like
something out of that old television show,
The Twilight Zone
. I still can’t
believe what I saw.”

“We know exactly how you feel,” Rebecca told him. “Logan and
I—in fact, everyone on the Night Seekers team—have lost someone to the
Chupacabra. There was a lull in the killings for a stretch but when they
started up again our team was formed with specific orders to hunt it down and
kill it. Except it’s like the head of the Hydra. You kill one and three more
take its place.”

“I wonder why it didn’t attack me? I was right there. Easy
prey.”

Logan and Rebecca exchanged another look.

“We talked about this on the way over,” Logan told him. “Our
best guess is the horse changed the dynamic.”

“The horse?” He frowned. “How? Why?”

“It’s never attacked an animal of that size. It probably
threw a kink in the beast’s programming and it got confused. But that doesn’t
mean it won’t be back. Like I said earlier, it’s programmed to search for an
isolated dwelling with enough cover around it so the beast can hide until it
attacks. Or with the abilities of a shifter, it can assume a different form and
catch you off guard.”

“Holy shit!”

They all sat in silence for a moment. Ben finally broke it.

“So can I assume you’re working with the sheriff on this?
That he buys into this?”

“Not hardly.” Rebecca gave a ladylike snort. “We looked at
the body of the park ranger who was killed and showed him pictures of other
victims. He was hard-pressed to claim there was no similarity.”

“But originally,” Logan added, “it was just as hard for him
to buy into it as it would be for you if you hadn’t seen the creature yourself.”

Rebecca locked her fingers together tightly. “Logan and I
still haven’t recovered from the devastation of such killings. He lost his
sister and brother-in-law and I lost twin nephews. We’ve seen the horror up
close and personal.”

Ben didn’t even know what to say to that. How to respond.

“So what now?”

“Obviously we’d prefer that you don’t share this with anyone
else,” Logan told him. “We’re trying to avoid wholesale panic while still
warning people to be on guard.”

“Yeah? And just how are you planning to accomplish that?”

“Now that we have the sheriff on board we’ve come up with an
idea.”

Logan explained the story he and Sheriff Danvers had agreed
on, the one they were spreading around.

Ben nodded. “Hopefully that will work. But what are you
doing about finding this beast and catching it? Or killing. Whatever.”

“Since the beast works within a twenty-five-mile area we’ve
divided the area into sectors, using the spot where the ranger’s body was found
as the center of the wheel. We’re looking for residences at the isolated edges
of town and ranches—like yours—with neighbors located far away.”

“And are prepared to shoot with the heaviest artillery we
have available if we happen to spot it.” Ben thought for a moment before he
spoke again. “I want in on the hunt.”

Both people stared at him.

“Listen, Ben—” Logan began.

Ben held up his hand. “I was a sniper for years with the
Marines. I still have a Barrett .50 caliber that can hit a target just over a
mile away. Believe me, it’s got plenty of firepower and I know how to use it.
I’ve got a snowmobile and a horse for those hard-to-get-to places. Plus even in
the short time I’ve lived here I’ve gotten a good fix on the area.”

“And I’m guessing if we say no you’ll be out there anyway.”

Ben nodded.

“Okay. Fine.” He blew out a breath. “I won’t deny we can use
the help. But you follow all the rules we’ve set down and don’t go horsing off
by yourself.”

“That makes sense.”

“Then we’re good here. I’ll talk to Rance Danvers and call
you with your area to search.”

They all stood and Ben shook hands with them. When he
clasped Logan’s hand he got the same strange sensation as before. But then it
was gone.

And what the hell was that all about?

“I’ll call you within the half hour,” Logan said on his way
out the door. “Be ready and be careful.”

“Count on it.”

Chapter Eight

 

Both Logan and Rebecca were half frozen by the time they
stamped into the house, trying to get feeling back in their feet and pulling
off their boots. The last time Rebecca had ridden a horse was ten years ago.
She hadn’t forgotten how but her muscles were certainly protesting.

And the worst part of it was they were having trouble
convincing people they might be in real danger. They had focused solely on the
isolated ranches and similar situations, giving everyone the story about the
escaped convicts, but everyplace they stopped the reaction was the same—“We’re
too far off the path for anyone to come here.”

Which might have been true if the enemy really was human.
Rebecca could see—as they picked their way through heavy snowdrifts and around
rocky hills and through the stately lodgepole pines—why Logan had chosen
horseback for their mode of transportation today. But lordy, it certainly was
cold. Even for a native of Maine.

They left their boots and jackets in the mudroom. Logan
built up the fire in the huge stone fireplace and now they sat in front of it
holding hot cups of coffee liberally spiked with bourbon. Rebecca was trying to
tamp down her frustration along with her fear that even with everyone working
on this they wouldn’t be able to prevent a second killing.

“All we can do is what we can do,” Logan said as if reading
her thoughts. “Just like in Maine when we had to warn the farmers and the
remote fish and hunting camps. Folks are hardened by the life they lead and
have a certain feeling of their own invincibility.”

“I know, I know. And if we tried to tell them the truth no
one would take us seriously.”

They were silent for long moments as they sipped their
drinks and let the results of the day’s work percolate in their minds.

“What did you think of Ben Crater?” Logan asked finally.

Rebecca had almost forgotten about Ben as they’d ridden
through part of their assigned sector today

“I like him. He seems to be a very no-nonsense person, which
I think is why the whole episode with the devil beast shook him up so much.”

“Oh yeah. I’d say you’re right about that. And it certainly
doesn’t hurt to have an experienced sniper on our team.”

Rebecca tilted her head to look at him. “But that’s not what
you’re asking about, is it?”

“No. Oh he was what I expected after Danvers told me the guy
had done three tours in the Marines. A hard-ass.”

He scratched his head. “When I shook hands with him and then
when we were leaving I got some kind of strange…something…from him.”

“Really? Like what?”

Logan scratched his cheek. “Don’t freak when I tell you
this, but there’s a remote possibility Ben Crater is a shapeshifter.”

Rebecca stared at him, her stomach doing a jiggy little
dance. “You’re kidding. Right?” But when he didn’t deny it she asked, “This may
sound stupid but is there some kind of chemical reaction or something that
helps one shifter recognize another?”

“Sometimes. Usually. It’s either by individual scent or a
chemical reaction of both our scents. Perception and impression can play a big
part. I thought maybe I caught Ben’s scent but he’d been in the barn calming
his horse down and the aroma of the horse was layered over his own personal
scent.”

Then he shook his head, as if to shake a thought loose. “Pay
no attention to me. Maybe I’m just seeing things where there’s nothing to see.”
He grinned at her. “Or smell.”

Filling the carafe and pushing the button, Rebecca took down
two mugs from the cupboard while they waited for the coffee to brew.

“But if he is a shifter you should let him know you are. It
would give you someone to run with.” She turned to look at him. “And hunt with,
just like you did with Clint when we were in Maine.”

“I don’t know, Bek. Those of us isolated from packs don’t
like to make overtures unless we’re absolutely sure.” He gave her a lopsided
grin. “If we approach a human by mistake you can imagine the reaction. We have
to be very careful and depend on our senses.”

“If he
is
ashifter maybe you’ll see him when
you run at night.”

“I’d say the prospects are likely. Other than that I guess
there isn’t much we can do tonight.”

“You’re right. Personally I don’t want to confront this
beast in the dark until we can corner it like we’ve done before. Meanwhile, I
don’t know about you but I froze my ass off out there today.”

“Whew!” Rebecca let out a breath. “I’m glad I’m not the only
one. I feel like an icicle.”

“At least we managed to get the word out to some of the most
logical people.” He swallowed the rest of his coffee, stood up and reached out
a hand to Rebecca. “I’ll call Rance later and see how everyone else did and if
Ben Crater reported in. But first on our list is a hot shower.”

Rebecca rose to her feet, Logan’s palm warm against her
chilled fingers. “I vote for that. Um, is that a solo activity?”

He grinned. “You know the saying. Save water, shower with a
friend.” He took her empty mug and carried it with his into the kitchen. Then
he was back leading her to his bedroom. “I’ll turn on the water, let it get
heated.”

They undressed together. Rebecca stared at Logan’s cock,
rigid and thick and swollen. The head was dark purple and a tiny bead of fluid
sat directly on the slit. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from it.

“How do you manage to get so hard in the freezing cold?”

Logan chuckled and pulled her against him. “It’s not
freezing now. And in a minute we’ll be a lot warmer.”

He tugged her into the bathroom and into the steam-filled
shower. This morning she’d noticed the enormous size of the shower and the
multiple showerheads, all spraying a delicious mist. Logan turned her to face
him, brought his own face closer to hers and licked her lips with his hot
tongue.

The shivers that skated down her spine had nothing to do
with the hot water and everything to do with the hot man. She opened her mouth
and welcomed his tongue, sliding her own over his. Dancing with it. Dueling
with it.

His hands sloped down over her shoulders and her arms then
met at her breasts, cupping them in his palms. His thumbs brushed over her
hardened nipples, sending shards of lightning streaking to her cunt.

She tried to grip Logan’s shoulders, the skin slick with
water and slippery beneath her hands. His tongue and hands were driving her
crazy with need. When he broke the kiss she had to draw in a huge gulp of air
to steady herself.

Logan uncapped the bottle of shower gel, squirted some into
a palm and worked it into a rich lather. With a strong sure touch he spread it
liberally over her body, paying particular attention to her breasts, her thighs
and her throbbing pussy. She moaned softly as he pinched her nipples. When she
arched to give him better access he chuckled. A rusty sound. And when his
fingers found her labia and stroked them with a gentle slide she tried to lift
her hips and push herself down on his touch.

But those busy fingers gave her no chance. They stroked and
petted, paying special attention to her clit. Streaks of heat flashed through
her body, which was not at all cooled by the water. Instead the more he stroked
the lather over her the hotter she got.

“Turn around,” he growled softly, his hands manipulating her
body.

When she complied he lifted her arms and pressed her hands
against the tile then went to work on her back. He began at her ankles, nudging
her legs apart so he could caress the backs of her knees and her thighs. When
he reached her pussy his finger skated slowly upward into the heat of her cunt,
twisting to get the best friction.

Rebecca heard a whimpering sound when he moved those fingers
into the hot crevice of her ass and she realized the sounds were coming from
her. She wiggled her hips when he circled the tight ring of her anus, the tip
of his finger just barely pushing inside. But even in the fog of lust that
surrounded her she realized how selfish she was. She was the one doing the
taking in this relationship—or whatever you called it—and Logan was doing all
the giving.

With supreme effort she turned around, brushed Logan’s hands
away and wrapped her fingers around his thick cock. Prodding him with her other
hand, she urged his body around so the mist poured directly onto his cock and
balls, washing away the soap. Then, opening her mouth, she took him inside,
letting his shaft glide over her lips. He filled her mouth, leaving her little
room to maneuver, but she managed to trace the thick vein around it with the
tip of her tongue.

He tasted of male musk and the outdoors and traces of the
rainwater-scented gel. Logan leaned back against one wall of the shower,
groaning as she slipped one hand beneath his thighs to cup his balls. She
kneaded them with her fingers as she continued to suck hard on his cock.

Logan rocked his hips back and forth, his shaft sliding in
deeper each time. She squeezed the root lightly with her fingers, feeling the
vein pulsing beneath her thumb. He invaded every one of her senses, his scent,
his taste, the sound of his groans, the rigid feel of him in her mouth, the
sight of him, body rigid, fists clenched as he rode the wave of pleasure she
brought him. His cock swelled even more, crowding her mouth, and she tilted her
head back to take him deeper.

Then, without warning, he jerked himself from her mouth and
dragged her to her feet.

Rebecca looked at him, startled. “What—”

”You have the sweetest, most talented mouth in the world.
Just feeling your lips and your tongue on my dick drives me out of my mind.” He
cupped her face. “Which is why I pulled out. I’m too close to the edge. We have
to catch you up a little.”

“But—”

But I like tasting you. Sucking you. Something I usually
refuse to do with men I’ve dated. None of them had the same appeal to me as you
do.

“But nothing, sugar. Just relax and enjoy it.”

He lifted her so she stood on the tile bench built along one
wall and lifted one leg so it rested on his shoulder.

“Just hang on tight, sugar,” he rasped. “We’re going for a
fast ride.”

He spread the lips of her pussy wide and licked the length
of it, once, twice, three times. Rebecca shuddered, bracing herself with the
palms of her hands against the shower wall. Logan swirled his tongue around her
clit before dragging it down to her opening and thrusting it inside. He licked
and tasted and lapped, touching every sensitive nerve.

Deep inside her the coil of heat began to unwind, surging
everywhere, muscles flexing and pulsing. She shivered with delicious
anticipation, while the shower continued to envelop her in a fine mist. Tiny
sobs bubbled up from her throat as she reached for the elusive peak of
satisfaction. But Logan kept her just teetering on the edge, almost there but
never quite there.

Then suddenly he wasn’t there anymore. She blinked her eyes
open and saw him turning off the shower.

“Logan?”

“Hush.” He kissed her lightly, the brush of a butterfly’s
wings. “I want this next part in a comfortable bed.”

He dried her with a huge towel then blotted himself dry.
Rebecca sensed him vibrating with the same tension gripping her. She wanted to
tell him to hurry up but before she could he lifted her and carried her into
the bedroom, laying her gently on the bed. She reached out her hands for him
but he brushed them away and crawled up between her legs. Bending her knees, he
pressed them outward so she was completely exposed to him. His eyes darkened,
desire dancing in them like flames.

“I could look at you forever.” His voice was deep but
uneven, a sign that his control was shredding.

Rebecca arched to him eagerly. She wanted his hot shaft
inside her
now
, but Logan continued to tease her with his hands and his
mouth, all the while murmuring every erotic thing he planned to do to her.

Then at last—
at last
—he pulled a condom from the
nightstand and rolled it on with hands that shook just slightly. For one brief
moment Rebecca wondered how many other women he’d had in this bed. How many
condoms he kept stashed for easy use. Then she couldn’t think anymore because
Logan slid his hands beneath the cheeks of her ass and lifted her to his mouth.

Rebecca groaned again—wanting his cock inside her, filling
her—but god, that wicked tongue set her on fire. He licked every inch of her
pussy lips and nibbled on her clit. She was shaking with need, her pulse
pounding. Her hands grasped for any part of his body she could reach, her nails
scraping on his sweat-slicked skin.

“Please,” she begged. “Please, Logan. Don’t make me wait any
longer.”

When he raised his head, a hoarse laugh rumbling deep in his
throat, his lips were shiny with her juices.

“You got it, darlin’.”

He placed the head of his cock at her opening and with his
eyes focused directly on hers he plunged deep inside her.

Yes! Yes, yes, yes!

Rebecca wrapped her legs around him, squeezing him with her
thighs.

When he held completely still she wanted to scream at him to
move. To pound into her, give her the release hovering just out of reach.

He bent his head and ran his tongue over her lips, leaving a
trace of her taste carried from his mouth to hers. Then, finally he moved, but
so slowly it was erotic agony. In, out, keeping to a measured pace, pushing her
to her limit then easing back.

But the muscles in his neck were corded and she knew he was
reaching the very limit of his control. She thrust her hips at him, pressing
into the small of his back with her heels and lifting herself right into him.
She knew the moment his control broke. His hips moved harder and faster, his
thick shaft pounding into her again and again, his body angled so the head dragged
over her sweet spot.

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