Born to Love (The Vampire Reborn Series) (Entangled Ignite)

by Caridad Piñeiro

  David pointed uptown along the trail. “She lived on what they’re calling Central Park North.”

  “Otherwise known as Lower Harlem,” she said with a hint of sarcasm, glancing in that direction.

  David shot her a half-grin, then returned to his inspection of the scene. He peered at the incline, his blue-eyed gaze intense. He shook his head skeptically. “It was not logical for her to run up that hill. There were scrape marks and bruises on her knees, as if she stumbled and scrambled as she ran. Why do that? The path we’re on now would have led her to the street in just a quarter mile or so,” he said, looking back along the trail they had just traveled.

  Diana glanced up the path, then back to the incline, pondering his observation. She tracked her gaze along the woods bordering the trail and back to where they’d just come from.

  As she did, a memory from last night roared back into her consciousness.

  “When we were walking along the incline, the CSU tech thought he heard something. There,” she said, pointing to the low underbrush and saplings closest to the trail where they stood. Mentally, she retraced the steps she and Maggie had taken last night.

  It finally hit her.

  “The animal that attacked Maggie came at us from the southeastern edge of the path.” She jabbed a finger in that direction.

  David rolled to the base of the ridge. “So maybe the jogger saw something behind her and started to run, but her path was blocked by something else,” he said.

  “Like maybe the second unsub.”

  “Which would mean she only had a couple avenues of escape. Including up the hill, to try and reach the trail or the street. Those scrapes and bruises on her knees are from falling as she tried to outrun them on the incline.”

  Them.

  “So we’re looking at two large animals hunting as a pack. As scary as that is, it’s the only thing that makes sense, David. Thank you.”

  He did a little wheelie with his chair, whirled it around and brought it down soundly on her toe, ignoring her yelp as he said, “I guess I’m still good for something, Reyes.”

  Diana remained silent, but smiled through the pain. Check off step 1 on her plan to make her old partner realize that he was still needed.

  Chapter Seven

  Maggie had texted Diana to meet her in her lab to discuss her analysis of the first victim’s samples. But on the way, Diana received a call from a security guard in the FBI building’s lobby.

  “Special Agent Reyes, we’ve got a situation here,” said the security guard.

  Diana instantly recognized the unease in the woman’s voice. It was the kind of prickly unease that confirmed the matter required her immediate attention.

  She halted, and gave David a sign to stop and wait for her. “A situation? Care to explain?”

  “We’ve got one of New York’s Bravest here. Says he needs to speak to you. And well, he’s got a lunch bag filled with slugs,” the female guard said with obvious concern.

  “Slugs? As in garden, or bullets?” Diana asked, wanting to make sure she understood correctly.

  “Bullets, Special Agent, but he’s unarmed and, well, he seems genuine. Not an EDP—emotionally disturbed person—as best as I can tell,” the guard said. “He wants to talk to you about last night’s murder.”

  Diana blinked. “Okay. Can you have someone escort him to the interrogation room on the main floor?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I will,” the guard said, and hung up.

  “What’s going on?” David asked, puzzled.

  Diana made a face. “Hell if I know. Maybe our first break on the case. Or maybe some wacko who just wants some attention.”

  She phoned Maggie and let her know what had happened, and where to meet them. By the time they reached the interrogation room, Maggie was already there. A few minutes later, the security detail arrived.

  The man standing between the two guards was drop-dead gorgeous.

  It was impossible to miss Maggie’s reaction to him. Her body did a slight jump of awareness, as did the man’s. They both moved slightly closer.

  The actions were not lost on David, whose features hardened.

  “Special Agent Reyes.” Diana held out her hand to the man, drawing his attention away from Maggie.

  “Lieutenant Rafael Lazaro. Rafe to my friends,” he said, and shook her hand.

  His palm was calloused, the hand of a man who worked hard. The lean muscles visible beneath a dark T-shirt with his fire company logo had also been earned with physical labor, not in a gym. Thick, wavy brown hair framed a ruggedly handsome face with intense, gold-flecked brown eyes. The laugh lines framing his mouth were at odds with his very worried and confused expression.

  Diana introduced Maggie first, and that flare of interest between them reared up again. Diana quickly stepped in to introduce David. Rafe’s manner was affable. David’s was professionally distant.

  After the introductions, the female security guard escorting him lifted the plain-paper lunch bag and jiggled it. Something inside rattled around.

  Rafe said sheepishly, “I tried to deal with them as best I could.”

  His words brought back CSU Evans’s comment from the night before about securing the crime scene. The coincidence totally elevated the weirdness factor. Diana grasped the bag and peeked inside. At least half a dozen bullets rested at the bottom of the paper bag.

  The firefighter looked around nervously and said, “Could we talk somewhere more private?”

  “Let’s go in here, shall we?” Diana opened the door to the interrogation room, waited for everyone to enter, then shut the door.

  Rafe paced along one wall of the room like a caged animal, repeatedly dragging his fingers through his thick hair, tousling it in agitation. “I know you’re going to think I’m crazy—”

  “Can we get you anything? Coffee or something?” Maggie asked.

  Rafe waved her off and continued his nervous pacing. “No, thanks. I’m jumping out of my skin as it is.”

  Diana spilled out the contents of the bag onto the white Formica tabletop. Seven bullets. If she had to guess, one thirty-eight caliber, and six nine millimeter. The exact rounds she and Maggie had fired the night before.

  “How did you get these?” she asked him.

  “I don’t know. I woke up naked in the alley by my firehouse. These were on the ground next to me. I didn’t know what to think, but I couldn’t just leave them there.”

  “Why not, Lieutenant Lazaro?” David asked, no hint of friendliness in his voice. “Were you involved in a shooting?”

  Rafe halted, leaning his hands on the chair in front of him. The muscles in his arms bunched and jumped with agitation. “I remember shots. And blood. So much blood.” He blew out a nervous breath, then plowed on. “And I was cold, but that made sense since I was naked. Only—”

  He shook his head and ran a hand through the rumpled waves of his hair again. He looked away from them, his demeanor suddenly more animated. More certain. “I saw that lady on the news this afternoon. The jogger who was killed,” he clarified. “She looked familiar. And then these visions started flashing through my brain.”

  Again he raised his hands, but this time he pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead, as if trying to keep back the images.

  Maggie moved toward him and laid a hand on his arm. As before, there was almost a visceral reaction between the two of them as they touched.

  The firefighter peered at her. “I know you. I’ve seen you before.”

  Diana laid a hand on Maggie’s shoulder, urging her away from the man. He was possibly unstable, and becoming a more viable suspect with each passing second.

  “Rafe, we want to help you, but I get the feeling you’re holding back. That you’re afraid of something,” Diana said, working him the way she would any interrogation.

  “You’ll think I’m crazy,” Rafe nearly yelled, and dragged his hands through his hair even more vehemently, then laced them behind his head and resumed his nervous pacin
g.

  “Try me, Rafe. I’ve seen and heard lots of weird shit before—“

  “I think I’m a werewolf,” he said, dropping his hands to his side like a boxer admitting defeat.

  For a second there was dead silence.

  “Okay, maybe not that,” Diana admitted.

  Although she should have been prepared for something otherworldly. And deep down, probably was. Nothing about the case so far had fit the pattern of a mortal kind of murder.

  “You don’t believe me. I can tell,” Rafe said, yanked out the chair by the table, and plopped down onto it. Every line of his body drooped, deflated. Defeated.

  “I didn’t say that, Rafe. But—”

  “We need more to go on, dude. A werewolf, eh? Why do you think that?” David jumped in, playing the good cop to the hilt. He wheeled closer to the table, but stayed far enough away that Rafe couldn’t grab him if he grew agitated again.

  With a shake of his head and shrug of his broad shoulders, Rafe said, “About two months ago we got a call. A brownstone fire uptown. When we answered, it was burning pretty bad along one section of the home. Some of the neighbors had managed to get the owner of the place out, but he was in rough shape. Major burns over his body. He was delirious, and rambling about his partner still being inside the home.”

  “So you went in?” David asked while she and Maggie stood off to the side.

  Diana sensed tension in her friend. Leaning close, she whispered, “Something wrong with you?”

  “Feeling weird. I’ve got to get some air.” Maggie raced out of the room.

  Rafe’s gaze followed her hungrily, as if he wanted to devour her. Maybe he’d already had a bite of her last night, if he was telling the truth.

  David slammed his hand on the table, the sound like a gunshot. No trace of the good guy was left as his jealousy became obvious. “Dude, eyes here, okay? This is serious shit.”

  Rafe nodded and continued with his story. “We got the hoses trained on the structure and managed to carve a path into the brownstone. I went in. It was dark and the noise of the fire… You never get used to it, the roar, as the fire sucks in air to stay alive.”

  Judging from the cadence of his voice and the look in his eyes, Rafe was back there again in that burning building, reliving what had happened that day.

  “Did you hear something over the noise?” Diana asked, needing him to focus on what was important.

  Rafe’s nod was reluctant. Uncertain. “It didn’t sound human. More like a dog. I thought maybe the guy’s partner was with a pet. But when I opened a door to the basement, something came at me. Something big.”

  He spread his hands wide to demonstrate, his actions amazingly graceful for a man of his size.

  “It bit me, and its teeth ripped right through my gear. The pain nearly made me black out, but I knew if I did—”

  “You’d both die,” David finished for him, only slightly calmer than before his outburst.

  With a sharp nod of his head, Rafe continued. “I beat at it, trying to get it off me, but it wouldn’t let go. It was like it was torn between biting me and survival. Then a part of the building collapsed just behind us, opening a hole to the brownstone’s backyard. It took off then, like a bat out of hell.”

  “You reported the incident?” Diana asked. She walked over to the table and leaned against it, needing to see every nuance of his expression to determine if he was lying.

  “I did. And got some stitches for the bite.” He shoved his right arm forward to display the pinkish crisscross of scars on it.

  Even with only a quick glance, they seemed way too similar to the bite marks on Maggie’s arm. Possibly bigger.

  “Mind if we get a photo of your arm?” David took out his smart phone and waved it.

  “Not at all. If you can help me find out what’s happening and get over these dreams—”

  “What kinds of dreams, Rafe? Like the ones you had about last night?”

  A resolute shake of his head came as he patiently waited for David to finish taking photos of his arm. Then he continued with his story, much calmer now that it seemed they might be receptive to his tale. “For the past two months, my head has been filled with images of blood and violence. Women I don’t know, all mangled. I can’t shake the dreams, and I can’t remember why I wake up naked out on the street. Last month it was behind my apartment building. I can’t keep on living like this.”

  He had grown more desperate with each word, clearly agitated, maybe even feeling some kind of guilt. Before Ryder, Diana might have been quick to judge the firefighter’s tale as that of a psychotic killer, but no longer. She had seen too much of the otherworld that existed beside the human one to assume Rafe was not telling the truth.

  Rafe yanked at the neck of his shirt and rubbed his chest almost violently with one large hand. “I can feel it inside, wanting to get out. It’s going to happen again. Tonight. I can feel it,” he said, his tone urgent.

  She leaned in toward him. “We believe you, Rafe. We’ll do what we can to help. My partner and I just need a minute alone. Okay?”

  With a subtle tilt of her head, she bade David to leave with her. They ducked into the viewing area next door, which had a one-way mirror that allowed them to see into the interrogation room. Maggie stood there in the dark, her arms wrapped around herself, obviously distraught. Turning to Diana and David, she said, “Is it crazy that I believe him?”

  Diana laid a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. Beneath her palm, Maggie’s body trembled with tension.

  “No, it’s not crazy,” Diana said. “I believe him, too.”

  …

  David stared at his two partners incredulously.

  “You’re both fucking crazy! The guy’s clearly psychotic,” he said, and wheeled away to the light switch. When he flipped it on and faced the women, he realized he was outnumbered in his sentiment. Both of them seemed to believe the firefighter’s irrational story.

  “Seriously?” Hands spread wide in a plea for sanity, David tried to drive home his point. “He’s talking about werewolves, for Christ’s sake!”

  But as he met Diana’s gaze, he had no doubt about her belief in the firefighter’s statement. What surprised him more was the agreement on Maggie’s face. Maggie, who always relied on logic and science, was falling for the obvious craziness.

  “You, too, Mags?” He snorted. “You’ve joined the monster squad like my ex-partner?”

  To his surprise, Maggie looked toward Diana, and said somberly, “You need to tell him, Di. It’s time.”

  Tell him what? He shot an accusatory look at his ex-partner…

  No, now his partner again, he reminded himself.

  “Time for what, Reyes? For the truth? Are you finally ready to tell me what happened that night, or are you going to continue lying to me?”

  Diana dragged her fingers through her hair and turned away from him to glance at the firefighter through the interrogation room window. “I never lied to you, David,” she said with an air of defeat that was impossible to miss.

  “But you never told me the truth either, Di. Never told me why I’m not dead. Why you’re not dead,” he pressed.

  She whirled on him, her body trembling, but whether from anger or something else, he couldn’t tell.

  “This isn’t the time, David. Right now we have to focus—”

  “On Maggie and this lunatic, right? Yeah, yeah. Any excuse to avoid what we should have discussed a long time ago.” They were fighting words, but in a way, he knew she was right.

  He glanced at Maggie. “I’m sorry, Mags. I know you’ve been stuck in the middle of all this for too long. And I know that right now, we need to figure out what’s going on.”

  Facing Diana once more, he pointed at her angrily. “But don’t think you and I are square with this. Eventually you’re going to have to spill everything about the night of the raid. And I do mean everything.”

  …

  Diana nodded wearily at David, then t
urned to study the man now pacing the interrogation room. Rafe looked like a lion in a zoo trying to find a way out…maybe because the animal in him was attempting to do just that.

  She glanced at her watch, noting the time. It would be dark in less than an hour. Less than an hour for all their worlds to change forever, if what Rafe said was true. And if all the myths and urban legends about werewolves were correct. She wished she had entertained that possibility before now and reached out to Ryder. If anyone would know about this stuff, he would. But in all the time they’d been together, they’d never had any encounters with shifters. Like the slayers and vampires, underworld demons—if that’s what werewolves were—must also have a tendency to stick to their own. In the back of her mind, she’d been hoping all this time there would be real-world, non-crazy explanations for what had happened to the two dead women and to Maggie.

  But just as she couldn’t take the time to explain to David about the raid right now, neither could she delay this investigation by assuming the firefighter was insane. If he was right and they’d just stepped into the dangerous shadow world of shifters, there was much they must do to protect themselves, Rafe, and any innocents nearby. “We need to get moving. If he’s telling the truth, and if the myths about werewolves are even remotely real, he may start to shift soon, and that’s the last thing we want happening here in public.”

  A worried look slipped across Maggie’s face while a defiant expression grabbed hold of David’s. “I can’t believe you’re seriously considering the possibility that this can even happen.”

  “I’ve seen too many things I can’t explain, David. All I ask is that you trust me, and let me handle this right now,” she replied grimly.

  He shot a troubled look at Maggie. “Are you really buying this, Mags? Are you willing to back her up on this insanity?”

  Maggie hugged herself tightly and glanced over at the firefighter for a long moment, then faced David once again. “Yes,” she said, although defeat rang in her tones. ”I am.”

  “Thank you, Mags,” Diana said and reached for her cell phone to call Ryder.