"Oh. Gracias, Mr. López. It was kind of you. I'm Allison Caufield." A memory flashed in her mind. Someone reaching into her blouse, squeezing her breast. She gasped, closed her eyes for a second. "I was attacked. Outside a nightclub. I...I don't remember everything. An alley--I was dragged into an alley near the club."
"Sí. I saw. I am so sorry such a thing happened. Please do not think too badly of San Ybella or its people."
She swallowed, tried to calm her breathing. Had someone raped her? Please don't let it have been that! But she wasn't sore, at least not...there. "Was I...did he..."
"No. He had no chance."
Thank God. "Then you must have stopped him in time and saved me. Thank you."
"Think of it no more."
"I don't suppose you got a good look at him? It all happened so fast I don't think I can remember what he looked like." And what little she did recall was a frightening blur of images straight out of a monster flick. Had the man who attacked her been in a Halloween costume?
"He is not unfamiliar to the authorities here. I promise he will be easily caught and dealt with."
"I need to go and report it."
"If you like, I will go with you. But first, I think you need rest. It is early morning yet and neither Sanchez nor any of his men will be there."
"Sanchez...is he the sheriff? You know him well?"
"Very well. He is my Tía Rosalinda's husband, and the new capítan."
"Oh. Well, then I thank you for your offer. Right now, though, I think I'd like to just relax. Do you have a number where I can reach you? So we can meet to go to the police station together?"
"I will write it down for you." He looked around, spotted a copy of an English language newspaper left lying on the chair near her balcony and tore off a corner. He jotted down his number and handed it to her. "Call me when you wish to go."
A thought occurred to her, "Javier, you said you found my hotel key and brought me here."
"Yes, I brought you."
"Where was I when you found me?"
"An alleyway near the El Lobizon--the club. Why?"
"I don't remember walking or even getting into a car."
"You didn't."
"I di--?"
"I carried you."
He carried her? That had to be at least three or four blocks from the hotel! She eyed his lean muscles with new appreciation and interest. Oh my, what did the locals put in their food--steroids?
"Would you like me to stay with you, or take you to the doctor?"
"No. I--I think I'll be fine."
"Lock the door behind me, Allison, and get some rest. Call when you want me."
She followed him to the door, noticing the smooth way he moved. She also noted the tight curve of his buns in the jeans. Her earlier fear of him jarred with the sensations she now felt coursing through her body. She must still be in shock. "I don't know what to say except thank you. I owe you a lot."
He stopped short and turned, his face a scant few inches away. "You must be careful telling a man such things." He brushed his thumb over her cheek. His lips curved in an almost wolfish smile. His voice lowered, he added, in a husky whisper, "It tempts him to take advantage."
He left her panting once more, but now for a different reason. She locked the door after him, and wondered how she could go from fear to desire so fast? Javier...
Later, as she looked in the mirror, she touched the tiny pale scar near the base of her throat. Where had that come from? It was too old to be recent, but she couldn't recall how she'd received it, not having seen the mark before. A shiver raced under her skin. Just what the hell had happened last night?
* * * *
"You always stay here when you are in San Ybella. Yet last night you chose not to sleep here, or go to the sanctuary. Did you find a sweetheart, nephew?" Tía Rosalinda had always been direct. She adjusted the combs holding her long, salt and pepper hair away from her face, a smile in her eyes as she winked at her younger husband.
Javier choked on his aunt's robust coffee, and so didn't answer at first. "No, I have no sweetheart." He glanced at his aunt's new marido across the kitchen table.
He'd worked with the man in the past, respected, and even liked him, but had never thought of him in such familiar terms before. Sanchez had been pure human once. But thanks to his bonding with Aunt Rosalinda, he was now Werewolden--werewolf breed, part of his family's pack, and a trusted ally.
"San Ybella is no longer a place for tourists, Aunt Rosalinda. The thieves and con artists prey on the foreign visitors, and a woman was attacked in the entertainment district last night during the student riot. She was forced into an alley near El Lobizon."
His aunt gasped. His old friend Sanchez cursed.
"It is why I decided to stop by to see you this morning before you go to work. I told the woman that no one would be there to take the police report, and that I would meet with her to go see you this morning. I needed the time to talk to you first." He paused, then told them, "I saw the man who attacked her. He was a Dayshifter."
"Is she all right?" His aunt looked worried.
"She will be fine. I took her back to her hotel and stayed with her. She had fainted, but I fear before that she got a good look at me...in moonlight."
"¡Dios! The poor child must be frightened. To be attacked by a Dayshifter, then saved by a werewolf! She must think herself loco." She looked to her husband. "The rebels cause chaos, people suffer, and the students from the Universidad riot in protest. Each time the rebels succeed, they grow bolder. Something must be done."
Javier bent forward to grab the small pitcher of cream and pour more in his coffee. "We know who the rebels are. And who supports them."
"The children of the lie--the Dayshifters." Carlo Sanchez muttered, and gripped his coffee mug.
"Carlo, why haven't you arrested these animals?"
"I have, Rosa. And they go free. The judges are paid well by the Dayshifter's alpha."
The phone rang, and his aunt got up to answer it--she darted a look at him and placed a hand over the mouthpiece. "Nephew, I think it is the woman you spoke about," she whispered. "She is on the line."
"Thank you, tía." He shot a look at Sanchez. "I will tell her to meet me at your office in...say...an hour?"
"Yes. That will give me time to talk to my deputies, and to see who is in my jail this morning."
He nodded to his uncle and asked Allison to meet him in front of the police headquarters. He hung up, a frown on his face.
"There is something I haven't told you about Allison. She and two of her guides, both humans, searched the rainforest west of the sanctuary yesterday, and stumbled upon a young Dayshifter."
"Oh, no!" His aunt looked up at him, concerned.
"I patrolled along the western border and spotted the man, so I tracked him. I don't think Allison saw me, but she got a good glimpse of him and took his picture. Much as I despise the Dayshifters, I had to follow her and do something about that camera."
"Did you get it?" Sanchez asked.
"Yes, it was a digital camera, so I erased the memory and returned it to her backpack while she was unconscious. None of the pictures she shot will be on her camera. The photos...I looked at them before I erased them. She had several of the Dayshifter, and one of the Dire wolf, an alpha."
"Was he the same man who attacked her?" Sanchez asked.
"No. But I believe he told others in his pack. I think the Dayshifter who pulled her into that alley planned to take the camera, but first he wanted to have a taste."
"Then she is still in danger. They won't know you erased the memory." His uncle sat back, thoughtful.
"She needs someone to protect her. And you've already saved her once. There is a connection. She will trust you." His aunt smiled, adding, "I know...you can bring her here! It will give you time to get to know her better. And since Carlo is not born of the moon, we won't change until the full moon, two nights from now. We can always use the excuse of newlyweds and stay in sa
nctuary that night," she added with a wink.
"Rosalinda," Sanchez warned his wife, lips quirked despite the tone in his voice.
"I am not as noble as you would believe. My own plan was to grab her backpack and make it appear as though the bandeleros had stolen her camera."
Aunt Rosalinda's idea had merit. Javier still wanted to learn why Allison's guides had let her walk into that section of the jungle, and also why she'd wandered from cantina to cantina, then gone inside El Lobizon. And, if he had to admit it to himself, he wanted to spend time with her. She called to both the man and the beast.
"Perhaps that is not such a bad idea, Tía Rosalinda. I will ask her, with your permission, of course, Sanchez."
His aunt beamed at him, no doubt thrilled at the chance to play hostess and matchmaker. His new uncle appeared less enthused.
Javier only hoped this decision did not come back to bite him.
* * * *
Carlo Sanchez reminded her of those heavily-muscled Mexican wolves recently reintroduced into the wild. Dangerous and ever watchful, even if they lay with their tongues lolling. She'd bottled-fed twin orphan wolf pups a couple years back. Raised them with love and a gentle touch, but knew they were wild animals. It was the same wildness she sensed beneath the surface of both men.
Carlo looked only a few years older than Javier himself. The men acted more like colleagues and friends than uncle and nephew.
He jotted more notes on the report, then placed his pen on top of the papers. "And you remember nothing else?" Sanchez steepled his fingers and watched her with shrewd eyes.
"No."
"I have Javier's description and both of your statements, Señorita Caulfield. We will find the man. In the meanwhile, perhaps it would be best if you do not go out unescorted at night. We do our best, but as you can see, we are a small police force and cannot be everywhere at once."
"What about Ms. Günther? She never made it back to her hotel room. Are you even going to check on that?"
"I will have two of my most trusted deputies talk to the staff at the nightclub. Please do not worry. As you said yourself, she might have gone with another guest, back to his room."
"Gracias, Capítan Sanchez." His grip was firm as she shook his hand.
She allowed Javier to guide her from his uncle's drab little office. "Thanks. Do you think they'll find him?"
"They will."
"I don't suppose you know if there is a camera shop close?"
"There is one near the mission. Have you eaten?"
"I've been too upset."
"If you wish I will take you to the camera shop and then we can have breakfast at the mission's café."
"I'd like that."
"Then follow me. My bike is across the street."
"Your bike?"
He pointed to a large black and silver motorcycle chained to a light pole.
"It's beautiful."
"Thank you. I bought her during my last trip to the States."
He reached into the saddle bag and pulled out two protective helmets and handed her one. "It is not required here, as in the States, but I prefer it over a head injury." He climbed on the bike.
She straddled the big motorcycle and adjusted the strap on the helmet. Her thighs rubbed his hips as she scooted forward to balance her weight. Once she settled, he booted the kick-stand and accelerated.
Her arms wrapped around his waist and held on tight. His back was warm against her breasts and the vibration from the motorcycle between her thighs started an ache she couldn't deny. She tried to ease back, but he reached behind him to pull her closer.
"You do not want to fall, Allison. I do not mind if you hold me."
She tried not to squirm, and hoped she didn't embarrass herself.
"How much farther?"
"¿Qué?"
"How far to the camera shop and the mission?" She yelled over the wind and the roar of the engine.
"Maybe four of your miles. Do you not like riding a motorcycle?"
"I like it too much," she admitted, then realized she'd said it out loud. Hopefully he hadn't heard her confession over the noise.
By the time they arrived at the mission, her legs quivered like jelly. Javier held her for a second when she wobbled after first getting off the bike.
"Better?"
"Thanks, just have to get my balance again."
"The camera shop is there," he said, pointing to a small shop with a locked iron gate in front of the door. "It is still early yet. They will be open after we have breakfast."
After he spent a few minutes securing the bike, they entered the mission.
"Buenos días." They were greeted by a stout woman in a pretty flowered dress. "¿Desayuno?"
"What did she say?" She nudged Javier, as they followed the woman. She certainly didn't look like a nun.
"She wanted to know if we were here for the breakfast."
"Oh."
A sense of serenity passed over her as she made her way down the open cloister's corridor. Between the stone pillars and archways, she glimpsed a beautiful water fountain sculpture of an angel at the middle of the courtyard. Lush greenery and exotic flora surrounded the fountain. Not a manicured garden, as one would expect. As they crossed to another connecting corridor, she looked back at the fountain, now from another angle and saw something that made her pause for the briefest of seconds. At the base of the sculpture, a cherub lay on his side, laughing playfully with a wolf pup.
Wolves were a motif in San Ybella. The biggest nightclub in the city was El Lobizon. Yet many of the locals claimed ignorance of the connection. Had she stumbled onto some quaint custom or a riddle?
Breakfast was served alfresco, at one of the café tables that lined the southern corridor of the cloister. She discovered there was no menu, which certainly made ordering easier, and gave her time to simply sit and enjoy the atmosphere--and her companion.
"Javier, tell me about yourself."
"There is little to tell. I would rather talk about you."
"An answer for an answer, then. What were you doing in the alley last night?"
"Waiting for someone." He leaned back, one hand on the table, the other resting on his thigh. "My turn?"
"By all means."
"What brought you to San Ybella?"
"I design natural habitat enclosures for zoos and wildlife parks."
"So you are here to design a zoo for us?"
"No. Actually, for a wealthy German philanthropist. The wildlife park will be in Bavaria."
"Then why...?"
"The philanthropist has a special interest in wolves. The park will be part zoo, part wildlife sanctuary, with the entire focus on canis lupus. All sub-species, from all over the globe."
"There are no more wolves in San Ybella. They became extinct many years ago."
"Or maybe they just evolved."
"Evolved? Into what?"
"Perhaps like their cousins, they became domesticated. Then again..." She paused as their waitress served their breakfast. Hmm, it smelled delicious. She wondered if he'd be shocked at her own very wolfish appetite. She dug in, savoring the fluffy omelet, chorizo, and the fried potatoes with onions. She'd be lucky if she could walk after eating the heavy, filling meal.
"Then again?"
"Everywhere I look there are symbols, mythology in San Ybella, about the wolf. I can't believe a place that revered the animal to such an extent, allowed it to go extinct."
"So you search for mythological wolves? To ship them to Germany for your client? To put them on display?"
She noticed he hadn't touched a bite of his food. There was also an odd little tick in the side of his jaw. Almost as if he were upset. Very strange. Was he another of those rabid fanatics that felt zoos were wrong and shouldn't exist? Didn't he understand without zoos or wildlife parks' dedication to breeding programs, more animals would have died out by now? Generations of children could see and learn about endangered animals, and hopefully become responsible adults who care
d about nature. "No. I design the habitat enclosure."
"The cage, you mean."
"We've come along way since then. The enclosures I design are state-of-the-art. I study the natural surrounding of the animal, the vegetation, their habits in the wild, and use that to create an environment where they can be happy and thrive. So they are protected and don't become extinct."
"And yet you are here, in San Ybella to study the land, the environment of an animal that no longer exists."
"I don't have time to waste looking for fairytale creatures. The wolves are real. Heinrich Günther was here last year and saw two different sub-species of canis lupus. I saw them myself yesterday. That's why I need to have my camera checked out. The internal memory isn't working. Thank God I had already saved most of the images," she said, patting her shoulder bag, "onto an extra memory stick."
* * * *
He'd failed miserably. How could he have known, though? He'd stood beside her as she handed both her camera and the extra memory stick to the shopkeeper. His stomach had sunk when the man took the stick from her. The shop owner was a pure human, and a newcomer at that. There would be no deals made--no way to stop the inevitable.
Sanchez--he would have to tell his uncle and see what they could do to salvage the situation. But first he had to take her back to the hotel. The ride seemed much longer than the trip to get there. Her breasts pressed into his back, the nipples tight and peaked. The soft inside of her thighs rubbed against his ass and hips, driving him crazy. He wanted to pull off the side of the road, throw her to the hard-packed ground and rip all her clothes off. Spread those white thighs and kneel between them. A growl worked its way up his throat.
"Did you say something?"
Her warm breath tickled the hair at the back of his neck and caused his cock to stiffen. "No." His attention was on her and the deliberate act of ignoring what his body wanted, so he didn't see the car until it was almost too late. It passed, narrowly missing them. He swerved to avoid the collision and groaned as she clutched his waist tighter. Ahead, the same car spun into a U-turn.
"What is he doing? Is he drunk?"
The Midnight Effect Page 2