“Soph?” he asked as he turned onto the highway.
“Yeah, Logan?” She turned her head to look at him. His voice sounded strange.
“When we got the rundown on animals in this part of Maine, especially wolves, there was no mention in the file of black wolves.”
She frowned. “Black wolves? You brought that up before. I gave it a lot of thought, even tried thinking back to my childhood but I don’t ever remember seeing them or hearing about them here. Just the grays. Why?”
“Last night and the night before, when I went for my run, I could swear I caught sight of one in the woods.”
“Last night?” Sophia chewed her lower lip. “Are you sure it wasn’t just some other animal you mistook for a wolf?”
Logan grunted. “I think I’m in a good position to know what a wolf looks like, don’t you think?”
She exhaled slowly. “I guess you’re right. But it’s such an anomaly. Oh. Wait. Do you think there’s a shifter living up here somewhere? And that’s what you saw?”
“I think it’s a good possibility. But if that’s the case, it would be nice to find him.”
“Or her,” Sophia added.
“I think it might be too big for a female.” He scratched his chin. “But then again we’ve come across some mighty good-sized she-wolves.”
“It also could be the Chupacabra,” she pointed out. “All signs point to it being a shifter of some kind.”
“No, I don’t think so. The very faint scent I caught wasn’t like that detected at past crime scenes. I could swear it had a human essence.”
Sophia stared at him. “If it is a shifter we need to find out who it is and which side of the line it stands on. We don’t need to be doing battles on yet another front.”
“Agreed. He’s got to be from around here. He wouldn’t be traveling all the way up from Penobscot County. I’m going to do my best to make sure my radar is on full alert.”
They drove in silence for a few more moment. They were almost at the barracks when Logan spoke again.
“Soph, you okay with us splitting off from the detectives today? Going out on the Sno-Cats, letting them focus on looking for some deranged individual with some kind of bizarre instrument. That’s what they really want to believe, anyway.”
“I know, I know.” She sighed. “It’s always so friggin’ hard, you know? When my nephews were killed they spent months trying to track down pedophiles, even though there wasn’t any sexual molestation. And despite the fact there were two other killings exactly like it.”
“So you’re okay with this?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She gave a short laugh. “I think they’ll be damn glad to be shut of us. Let the ‘real’ detectives get on with their work.”
He waited a second before adding, “But I think Rebecca should stick with us. You know, since she knows the area so well.”
Sophia laughed. “And of course, the others don’t.”
“She buys into our theory,” he said defensively.
“It’s okay, Logan. I’m sure we couldn’t beat her off with a stick.” Then she sobered. “Are you, you know, feeling…”
“Anything for her?” he finished. “I like her. A lot. But there are a lot of things she’d have to accept about me if we moved forward at all, assuming she felt the same way. Besides, she has a job here and I’d never play fast and loose with your sister.”
“Of course not,” she said with confidence. “You know I’d roast your balls.”
The scenario with the detectives played out even better than they hoped. Bobby was waiting for them alone when they walked into the barracks.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he began, “but no meeting this morning. I thought it might be more productive if I sent the team out to canvass again today. Try again to see if they can find someone who might have had a grudge against Franklin.”
“Someone really crazy?” Sophia cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Okay,” he agreed, “crazy. Or not. And Scott’s running down people who popped up when we ran Franklin’s name through the database. They’ll also meet with Fish and Game and see what the latest wild animals reports are for around here. You know. Things like that.” He paused. “You guys okay with that? I figured you had plans when Rebecca signed out the snowmobiles.”
“We’re good, Bobby,” Sophia told him. “We’ll do our thing today and get out of your hair. Hope you don’t mind us stealing Bec.”
“As if I could keep her away from you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Look, I don’t want us to be enemies on this. You just have to understand—”
“That our theory sounds absurd,” Sophia finished for him. “Despite the evidence we’ve shown you.”
“What can I say? I’m just a hardheaded Yankee. Show me real proof and we’ll have something to talk about.”
“Everyone ready?” Rebecca came down the hall toward them, dressed for the outdoors as they were, a deliberate smile on her face. “We’re all hooked up and ready to go.”
“Yes, we’re set,” Sophia said. “Let me get the maps we put together out of the SUV and we can get going.”
“Hey, Sophia.” Bobby’s voice stopped her. “Why don’t the three of you come back here at the end of the day? We can all pool our info. You never know what might pop up.”
He was holding out an olive branch and she couldn’t find it in her to refuse.
“That’ll be fine. Say four o’clock? It’ll just be starting to get dark about then and we’ll be ready to pull in.” She paused. “And thank you.”
He dipped his head. “I’ll tell the others. Happy hunting.”
* * * * *
The devil beast had crawled out of its snow cave just after sunrise, stretching its ugly body in the sharp cold of the new day. It sniffed the air, taking in its crisp, knife-like edge before lowering its head to track for spoor. Sometimes it hunted just for the fun of it, like a child with a game. If it caught something, so much the better. When the bloodlust was not raging it was a way to be amused. Entertained. Or as much as the devil beast could be.
But not right now. Hunger was topmost on its list of necessities. Not the lust that ran through it like a high-speed freight train, satisfied only with the human kills. No, this was just normal hunger, satisfied with small animals.
This area he’d come back to was filled with them—raccoons, squirrels, rabbit, even larger animals like bobcats and coyote. Plenty to feast on. The creature might have to shift into a more formidable shape to attack some of them but the little ones were easy. A mouthful, maybe two. Something to tide it over.
It made its way through the incredibly white snow, moving as it did in a form that left no traces. Soon it would be time to find the next prey. Out here where humans lived in solitude like the beast they were easy to attack. But the beast’s radar was working and it, like other predators, had a sense of caution and self-protection.
The growingly familiar pain shot through its head without warning and the beast dropped to the ground, its shape morphing as it did so, rolling in the snow, using the cold to dull the pain. It’d begun to realize the pain was a preliminary to the raging lust that drove it to kill the human prey. But it wasn’t time yet. The rest of the signals weren’t there.
It wanted to return to its home. Its primary lair. But its responses were specifically programmed so that wasn’t an option. Food. That would help.
Eventually the pain subsided enough for the devil beast to rise and head off to search for quarry. Before long a rabbit had the misfortune to dart out of a thicket into its path. The beast snared it and in seconds the rabbit was history.
* * * * *
Despite the late hour he’d gone to sleep the night before, Clint was up early. He listened for Frenchy. Heard the old man in the kitchen and knew he’d be brewing coffee. Or the sludge that passed for it. But this morning it was probably just what Clint needed to wake up his brain.
He made his way into the kitchen where Frenchy was tak
ing clean mugs out of the cupboard. At sixty-seven Frenchy Roland was still fit. The hair on his head was still thick although now it was liberally threaded with gray. The lines on his face were indicators of the hard life he’d lived but his gray eyes still held traces of the sparkle of his youth. The old man was doing well now, Clint thought, a lot better since he’d finished his physical therapy. Now he was doing the prescribed exercises at home under Clint’s nagging and watchful eye. Amazing how a man of that age could recover from a broken hip like that.
What do I do when he doesn’t need me anymore? When I don’t have any excuse for hanging around? Where will I go then?
He brushed the thoughts out of his mind and dragged out a smile. “That filthy poison ready yet?”
Frenchy smiled. “Say all you want but it keeps the blood flowing.”
“I forgot to tell you, but Sophia Black’s in town. She said hello.”
“I always liked that girl.” Frenchy filled both mugs and carried one to the table, lowering himself into a chair. “Terrible thing about her nephews that time.” He sipped the coffee. “About all of them.”
“They never found whoever did it?”
Frenchy shook his head. “Sophia had a theory that whatever it was, it wasn’t quite human, but you know the no-nonsense Yankee mentality. They blew her out of the water.”
“That why she left?” Clint lifted his own mug, took a swallow of the dark brew.
“Maybe part of it. But I heard she got a job offer with some private outfit for a lot of money. Someplace in Texas.”
“Well, she’s definitely back. And I don’t think Bobby Lacroix and the rest of the detectives are any too happy about it.”
Frenchy cut him a quick glance. “People saying stuff? You hear it at The Crown?”
Clint shrugged. “This and that. Just some low-level grumbling.”
The two men looked at each other. “They might do well to listen to her,” Frenchy said at last.
“So what’s her theory, anyway?”
Frenchy leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs. “Ever heard of the Chupacabra?”
Clint grunted. “Yeah. Plenty of stories running around the swamps and bayous when I was a kid. Some thought it was a genetic hybrid. Maybe some kind of shifter.”
“You might try getting a little friendly with Sophia. Enough so she’ll tell you the how and why of it. She did a lot of research when those boys were killed.”
“We’ll see.” Oh, he was getting real friendly with Sophia Black, all right, but conversation wasn’t at the top of his activity list with her. “I think I’ll cut some more wood. We’re running pretty low and there’s a chance another storm might blow in.”
“Good, good.” He shifted in his chair. “You know I’ve been real glad to have you here these past months, don’t you?”
Clint nodded. “And I’m happy to be here.”
“You can’t hide out here forever, boy. You need to find a way to make a life for yourself.”
Clint’s laugh had little humor to it. “Easier said than done.” He drained the coffee and rinsed the mug. “I’ll cut the wood, then shower and get into town.”
“I think tomorrow I might like to come in for a little while. Believe it or not I’ve really missed that place.”
“We’ll work it out.”
There was another reason Clint wanted the physical exertion of splitting logs. He’d awakened with thoughts of Sophia on his brain and an incredible hard-on tenting his sweats. He’d been forced to throw on a heavy flannel shirt before he left the bedroom, one that hid the thrust of his cock against fabric. He hoped the physical exercise would be enough to diminish it but when his whole body was still ramped up he decided to go for a short run.
Checking first on Frenchy, he folded his clothes on the kitchen chair, walked back onto the porch and allowed his body to stretch and elongate, let the fur sprout to cover his skin. Then he was off, racing through the sunshine, darting through trees. He had to be careful. No telling who would be out during the daylight, even though he ran through a deserted area.
He was startled when he heard the heavy whine of a snowmobile, moving to the shelter of some thick trees as it went past about a hundred yards away. Clint held himself perfectly still when it stopped unexpectedly and the driver looked around.
Sophia!
Shit. Just what he didn’t need.
He lowered himself to the ground, using the snow for as much cover as he could, hardly daring to breathe until she kicked the engine to life and roared off again. When he was sure she was out of the area he headed for home, fast. That had been far too close for comfort.
Back in the house he stepped into the shower, realizing as he soaped his body that he was still as rigid as when he woke up. The log splitting and the run had done nothing to diminish the swelling of his cock. In fact, seeing Sophia had just the opposite effect.
Standing under the hot stream, he closed his eyes and called up the image of her naked in her bed, legs spread wide, pussy lips swollen and glistening. Eyes glowing with the heat of her desire. Felt again her burning flesh hugging him. God, he wanted to fuck her right now more than he wanted his next breath.
He groaned and wrapped his fingers around his aching cock. He really wanted it buried to the hilt inside Sophia’s wet, hot sheath, not in his hand which had served him far too many times. But as he remembered the feel of her tightly clasped around him, the taste of her, the pressure of her diamond-hard pebbles against his chest, his hand automatically fell into the familiar rhythm.
He slid his other hand between his thighs to cup his balls, squeezing them as he stroked himself, imagining instead Sophia’s touch. Up and down, from the root to the tip, calling up the feel of her slim fingers as she grasped him. Of her hot, wet mouth as she’d sucked him in. Felt himself swell even more in his grasp.
His breathing quickened and his heart rate increased as the pressure built inside his body, uncoiling from low in his belly to spring through him. More quickly than he expected the orgasm broke over him and he erupted, the semen spilling over his fingers, his cock jumping in his hand.
He gritted his teeth as the spasms rocked him, leaning against the wall of the shower for support, his body limp and drained. When it was over he drew in a deep, shuddering breath and used the techniques he’d learned in the military to pull himself together. Quickly soaping himself again, he rinsed off, turned off the water and stepped out to dry himself off.
He’d had erotic fantasies before. Who hadn’t? But usually the woman was either faceless or someone from an X-rated movie. Never before about a person he’d actually met in real life. Someone he actually knew. In forty-eight hours Sophia Black was entrenched in his blood and he didn’t see any way to get her out. There was, however, the little matter of his dual nature. How did you say to a woman, “Hold tight here while I change into a wolf?”
Of course if she was predisposed to believe in creatures other than fully human it might not be so bad. The question was, would she still want him? Want to be with him?
Forget it, asshole. When she’s done here she’ll go back to Texas or wherever she’d moved to and he’d be little more than a blip on her radar screen.
But Clint had a lot of reasons to believe life could change in the blink of an eye. Maybe it would this time, too.
* * * * *
They decided to begin just outside Presque Isle, not far from Darrell Franklin’s fish camp. So much of northern Aroostook County was raw, undeveloped land, dotted with tiny hamlets of very few people and precise squares of uninhabited tax parcels.
One of the snowmobile trails began about a half mile from Franklin’s place, at an open parking area that thankfully had been recently plowed. They unloaded the snowmobiles then looked at the map Sophia opened and spread out on the hood of one of the machines.
“We’ll have to crisscross,” she said, tracing red lines with her fingers. “And there’s only so much area we can cover today.” She slid a glance at
Logan. “Unless we split up.”
“Not even an option.” His tone of voice was firm. “Let’s cross off the most unlikely places first and then start with the others. Remember, we’re looking for two things—evidence that the beast is in the area and likely targets for the next attack. Based on previous experience I’d say we’ve probably got another forty-eight hours at most.”
Rebecca pulled on her gloves. “Then we’d best get busy.”
It didn’t take long to get the snowmobiles unloaded and ready to roll. Rebecca handed out radios to each of them.
“Long range,” she explained. “Top of the line. Good for more than sixty miles.”
“We definitely don’t need that distance,” Logan reminded her.
“I know, but we need to split up a little bit or we won’t get any territory covered. Let’s take a look at the population map and each of us can take a sector. And check in with each other every ten minutes.” She looked up at him. “Will that work?”
Sophia could tell Logan didn’t like it but he couldn’t argue with Rebecca’s logic.
“Fine. But we keep to the designated areas. Let’s set these all to the same channel.”
Ten minutes later their radios were synced, rifles were strapped to the snowmobiles and everyone had taken extra ammo for their handguns.
“We’ll meet back here in two hours,” Logan said. “Get some lunch, regroup and head for the next area.”
The two women nodded, they all mounted up and soon the air was filled with the whine and growl of the big Sno-Cats as they headed across the landscape, snow flying behind them like rooster tails.
* * * * *
Bobby had given them each maps of the area with the potato farms and other isolated residences marked. Although Aroostook County was only two percent of the total area of the State of Maine, it was still comprised of two thousand square miles. A lot of area to cover. Of course, there was a significant amount they’d discounted. Areas where no one lived at all, not even reclusive hermits. That at least narrowed down the field to an almost manageable size.
Logan was not happy about the three of them splitting up, something he’d specifically said he wanted to avoid. But the women had overruled him, reminding him they were both police officers, expert with firearms and far more alert for the Chupacabra than anyone else around here. He couldn’t argue with Rebecca’s logic.
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