by Keri Arthur
Kat followed her grandmother through the door. She no longer wore the wig and her eyes were once again green. But they were haunted with exhaustion and pain, and her face was pale. She should have been asleep, and probably would have been had it not been for Benton’s booming voice.
She no longer wore Ethan’s jacket, and her low-cut shirt revealed a tantalizing glimpse of her breasts. Her black skirt swirled around her thighs as she headed for the second sofa, showcasing long, wonderful legs. He wasn’t the only one who silently admired them as she sat.
Her gaze rose to his and, for an instant, there might well have been no one else in the room. Though she was tired and still in pain, the need in her eyes was every bit as strong as the one that pounded through his veins. The momentary smile that touched her lips did strange things to his breathing. Tomorrow, she’d whispered. He suddenly wasn’t sure he could wait that long.
“What do you mean?” Benton’s voice cracked the brief silence. “If you two are withholding information—”
Gwen’s snort was contemptuous. “The only thing we’re withholding is knowledge you’re not likely to believe.”
“Right now, I’m desperate enough to listen to even the most outlandish theory.”
“Then I’ve got one that’ll blow your socks off.” Gwen perched on the arm of the sofa beside Kat. “The thing that is taking these kids is called a mara. It’s an ancient spirit that can enter houses by taking the form of a cat or vapor. It seduces men and eats their souls while they’re in the midst of passion.”
Benton stared at her for a second. “This thing is human.” His voice was harsh. “Your granddaughter saw it.”
“The fact that it can take human form doesn’t make it human,” Gwen said dryly. “As yet, we have no idea why it is taking these kids, but it is stealing their souls. And doing so while they are in great pain.”
“The first was drained of blood,” Mark said. “Six days later, the second kid was torn apart. How’s that related to this soul-stealer?”
There was very little doubt in Mark’s voice, Ethan noted. But then, Mark had seen the disintegration of the zombie firsthand. That would be enough to make anyone believe that something beyond the norm was going on in this case.
“The first kid was drained by a vampire who was working with the soul-sucker,” Gwen elaborated. “Kat killed it in the warehouse. You probably would have found a man-shaped black stain on the concrete.”
That explained the bits of humanity found among the soot. Ethan looked at Kat. “Is that why you were attacking him with stakes?”
She nodded. “White ash.”
Her voice was little more than a croak, and he raised an eyebrow, glancing at Gwen for explanation.
“Most stakes will damage a vampire,” she said. “But to ensure a kill, it’s best to use white ash.”
“And the mutant in the restroom this evening?” Though Benton asked the question, his expression suggested he really didn’t want to know. “How is that connected?”
“Ethan has already told you it was working for the soul-sucker. And it was a werewolf,” Gwen said, meeting Ethan’s gaze for a moment. “Not a mutant. Not a freak of nature.”
He had a sudden, unsettling feeling the old woman was beginning to figure him out.
The captain scrubbed a hand across his mottled cheeks. He looked sick, Ethan thought. Heartsick.
“You’re seriously expecting me to swallow this?” the captain said, voice flat.
“You have the werewolf, and I guarantee his bite will match those on the second kid’s remains. You have the residue of the zombie who tried to force Kat and Ethan off the road. You have the charcoaled remnants of humanity from the warehouse.” Gwen crossed her arms and studied Benton coldly. “What further evidence do you need that something beyond normal is going on with this case?”
“More than that,” he bit back. He glared at Gwen a moment longer, then resumed his pacing. “We know this … woman … is taking these kids. We don’t know the reason.” He glared at Gwen again, as if daring her to contradict him. “Why, then, is it killing the men?”
“Like all things, it needs to eat to exist,” Gwen said. Mark swore softly and she gave him an amused look. “Amen to that, Detective.”
“So the next question we have to answer is, how did it become involved with the werewolf and the vampire?” Ethan said.
“Kids,” Kat croaked. “The werewolf said part of his job was taking care of the kids.”
Ethan frowned. “The ones they kidnapped?”
She hesitated. “No, he said her kids.”
“Good God,” Gwen said. “If this thing is breeding, then that could certainly explain both why she’s taking the kids and why she’s killing the men.”
“How?” Benton growled. “What has one got to do with the other?”
“Breeding takes a great deal of strength. To produce young, she has to be at optimal levels herself.”
“But she’s not killing the young,” Ethan noted. “Her henchmen are. So why take the kids?”
“I don’t know,” Gwen said, her expression one of frustration. “We’re still trying to uncover more information about maras.”
Ethan glanced at Kat. “Did the werewolf say anything else?”
She nodded. “He said he’d been moving between Springfield and here for a couple of weeks. He also said they couldn’t leave until the kids were old enough.”
“If that’s true, why is it taking the children to warehouses to kill them? Why not kill them wherever it’s keeping its own kids?”
Kat shrugged. It was Gwen who answered. “Maybe it needs these children for something more than feeding. Or maybe it simply kills them elsewhere in an effort to throw police off the trail. Which it did, until we came along.”
“If this thing is supposed to be a spirit, how the hell can it have kids?” Mark asked.
“It does have a physical presence. It wasn’t a spirit who seduced and killed those men.” Gwen pushed to her feet. “I feel the need to scry. Kat?”
Kat rose and followed her grandmother into the other cabin. Benton and Mark looked at Ethan.
“She can sometimes see future events,” he explained. “Through a crystal ball.”
Benton snorted. “You really believe that rubbish?”
Until he’d met these two, he hadn’t really believed in anything supernatural—despite the fact that he was a werewolf. He’d been born and raised in a small farming community, and his family had very carefully shielded the townsfolk from the knowledge of what they were. He’d grown up feeling like a freak—a dangerous freak who needed to be locked up one night every month. But the last couple of days had certainly opened his eyes to just what else was out there. “I thought you were willing to use anyone who helps solve this case?”
“Doesn’t mean I have to believe it.”
“Believe in them. They’re the real deal.”
Mark’s blue eyes glimmered with amusement. “You’ve changed your tune over the last few days. Wonder what the reason for that is?”
“I’ve seen things—”
“I just bet you have.”
Benton’s gaze wavered between the both of them. “Am I missing something here?”
“Nothing important,” Ethan muttered, shooting an annoyed look his partner’s way. “Did you come up with any ID matches for the driver that attacked us?”
Mark shook his head. “Not yet. And it’s a long shot, at best.”
Everything about this damn case seemed to be a long shot. Including finding Janie alive. He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. He couldn’t think like that. He had to find her. Anything else was simply unacceptable. “The lab boys find anything unusual when examining the second kid?”
Mark frowned. “Maybe. They found some dirt under a couple of his fingernails.”
“Most kids have dirt under their fingernails.”
“Yeah, but this stuff was slightly phosphorous. It didn’t come from that warehouse in Springfield, that�
�s for sure.”
It was a clue. Maybe their first. “Are they trying to place it?”
“It’s going to be a long task, so don’t expect miracles.”
He didn’t expect miracles. He only expected answers. “Nothing else?”
“The kid’s clothing and shoes were still damp. He’d been immersed in water a couple of hours before his death.”
“No telling whether it was bath, river, or sea, I suppose?”
“It wasn’t seawater, but that’s the only thing they are sure of.”
Another possible clue that led them nowhere. He glanced at Benton. “What about the old man? Any clues there?”
“No—” A shrill ring interrupted him. The captain swore and dug his cell phone out of his pocket. “Benton here.”
It was bad news. That was obvious from the captain’s expression. After listening for a few moments, Benton said, “Where?”
He scrawled down an address, then hung up. “Another kid’s gone missing,” he said grimly. “And this time, the mother was killed in the process.”
“I’M COMING WITH YOU.”
Ethan’s response was almost automatic. There was nothing he could do that Mark and Benton couldn’t, beyond finding scents. And this thing left as little in odors as it did other clues.
But it was better than standing here. Better than wondering if the soul-sucker would follow the pattern it had set so far. Wondering if, in three days’ time, they’d find Janie’s body, sucked dry or mutilated.
Benton stabbed a finger his way. “You take one step toward that house, and your ass is in the nearest jail cell.”
“Captain—”
“I’m serious, Morgan. Keep your nose clean.” Benton glanced at Mark. “Let’s go.”
Ethan looked at his partner, and Mark nodded at the unspoken request. The two men walked out the door. For several minutes, Ethan stood there, weighing his need to follow them against the wisdom of staying put for the moment. He swore and locked the door, then headed into Gwen’s cabin.
Gwen was at the small table, staring into her crystal ball. He sat beside Kat on the sofa and gently touched her neck. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired. Sore.” She shrugged. “It’s to be expected.”
At least most of the bruising and swelling had gone down. Those herbs were definitely miraculous—either that or Kat had supernatural self-healing abilities, which he’d seen in werewolves, but never before in a human. He blinked. But she wasn’t human. She was a shifter, a raven.
“Where’s your boss headed?” she continued.
“Another kid has gone missing.”
Her hand caressed his and squeezed gently. “We’ll find her. Before the three days are up, we’ll find her.”
His smile was grim. “I wish I shared your certainty.” Wished he could share it with Luke. But he’d learned the hard way that some promises were never meant to be, and he wasn’t about to inflict false hope on his brother. Not when they both knew the reality.
She touched his face, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Believe it,” she said softly, “because it’s the truth.”
He stared into the green depths of her eyes and for a moment was totally convinced. Then his gaze flicked down to her lips, and before he knew it he was kissing her. Urgently. Hungrily. She responded in kind, her fingers so warm against his cheeks it felt like she was branding his soul with her touch. He released himself to the simple pleasure of being close to her. Of kissing her without caressing her, of feeling the closeness of her body, smelling the sweet aroma of heated desire that was both his and hers.
“Wow,” she murmured at last, her pupils dilated and body trembling.
“Wow, indeed.” He leaned his forehead against hers for a second and wondered what the hell was going on. He’d never felt anything like this before, not even during the moon fever.
Maybe it was just this case—and the stress of Janie’s disappearance—coming out in the most natural form for a werewolf. Especially with the moon rising. Yet he had a sneaking suspicion the answer was not so simple. And that was something he had no intention of exploring. Not now. Not ever.
He rose and walked over to the window. He felt the flash of her confusion and anger, and thrust his hands into his pockets. “How long is your grandmother likely to be scrying?”
“However long it takes.” Kat’s voice was calm, despite the turmoil he could feel within her.
He frowned, wondering why he was catching her emotions so clearly. While that particular gift ran in his family, it was never one in which he’d shown any ability. No, all he’d gotten was the damn curse. A curse that had first come into his family after his grandfather was bitten. While his father had escaped it, his uncle had not, and neither had Ethan or his brother. Which was why he would never have any kids of his own—he had no desire to pass this thing on. Luke had, but then, Luke had always been more accepting of the curse than Ethan had been. “If another kid has gone missing, why didn’t she see it?”
She shrugged, something he felt rather than saw. “Scrying is not a perfect science. It shows some possibilities, not all of them.”
“Has this Seline of yours come up with any answers about the soul-sucker?”
“No, but it’s obviously an extremely ancient spirit we’re chasing, which means the Circle have to go through all the old texts that have not yet been transcribed to computer. It takes time.”
“Time we haven’t got.”
“I know that. Gran knows that. Even Seline knows that.” She hesitated and he tensed, knowing her question even before she asked. “Why do you keep running, Ethan? What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not running. I’m not doing anything more than simply enjoying a moment.”
“And that’s all we are? A moment?”
He closed his eyes. “Yes.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“Yes.”
The swirl of emotions that had surrounded him died abruptly. It was as if some door he couldn’t see had slammed shut. The sudden stillness felt cold. Lonely.
“You’re wrong, you know.” Her voice was soft, detached. With the emotive eddy locked down, he couldn’t read what she was feeling, but in many respects, he didn’t need to.
“No, I’m not.” Because he’d given his heart long ago, and there was nothing left to him now but moments. “I warned you before we started this that I wanted nothing more than a good time. Nothing we share is going to change my mind.”
No matter how good it felt. No matter how right.
She shifted, her movements full of controlled anger. If he had any sense, he’d walk away now, before this got messy. But he couldn’t. He needed these two to find Janie. They were his best hope—he was sure of that. And he couldn’t deny his need for Kat. The moon’s spell was far from over, but he had no desire to find another partner right now. He wanted her. Only her.
“So, who is the woman who captured your heart and left you unable to love?”
Surprise rippled through him. Had she read his mind, or did she know a lot more about werewolves than what she’d admitted? Not that he knew a whole lot about them himself—it wasn’t as if he’d grown up in a pack or anything. He’d had only his small family unit, and all they could impart were truths as they saw it.
And he was beginning to suspect many of their truths were not the reality. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?”
“It does to me, especially if she’s still around.”
“I didn’t lie to you, Kat.” His voice was grim as he stared out into the star-bright night and tried not to remember. But pain rose regardless. The pain of betrayal. Hurt. “And she’s definitely not still around.”
“Did she die?”
He snorted softly. “No.” She was living in Denver with her very normal husband and three kids, and probably didn’t even remember the lives she’d destroyed when they were both still teenagers.
“Then why—”
Gwen groaned, and he’d never been so g
rateful for an interruption in his life. He didn’t want to relive that moment of his past, not even briefly. Whoever it was that said time heals all wounds was wrong. Time only made them more unforgivable.
He turned and watched Kat tend to her grandmother. The older woman was pale and shaking, her hands locked into a clawlike position. He grabbed the oil off the coffee table and sat down next to her.
“Let me massage these for you.” He poured the oil into his hands and began to rub hers gently.
Gwen’s smile was tremulous. “Thanks.”
He nodded. “Did you see anything of use?”
Kat sat down opposite him. He was aware of her gaze but didn’t meet it, keeping his focus on easing the tension from Gwen’s knotted hands. Right now, he didn’t have the energy or desire to answer Kat’s questions.
“I saw a couple of things,” Gwen said. “First off, your boss is chasing a wild goose. That murder has nothing to do with this case. It’s a custody battle gone wrong.”
Just as well he hadn’t followed instinct and gone after them, then. “You sure of that?”
She nodded. “It doesn’t follow the pattern. They’ll discover that as soon as they get there.”
“Do we need to rescue the kid anyway?”
Gwen shook her head. “No. The cops will get the father soon enough, and the little boy is safe. But there is another kid you have to worry about.”
His gut clenched. Not Janie, he thought. Not this soon. Please …
“The soul-sucker?” Kat rose and moved over to the phone table.
“Yes,” Gwen said, rubbing her temple with her free hand. “Here, in this town, sometime tonight.”
Kat retrieved the local street directory and plopped it down on the table. “Where?”
“Forest Road. Some place called The Pines.”
“Out of town,” Kat said after a few minutes. “And not all that far from where the soul-sucker killed the old man.”
“I found a cabin full of zombies up that way,” he said, suddenly remembering them. “About a twenty-minute run north from the old farm.”