by Megan Hart
“What are you?” she asked again in a low, strangled voice.
Jordan shook his head, shaggy dark hair falling over his eyes for a moment before he gave her a grim look. “Why don’t you tell me?”
He’d seen the looks before. Disgust, fear. His parents had tried to shield him from most of it, but that hadn’t been much better. Isolated from friends and even family, Jordan’s high school years had been lonely and full of self-doubt. It had taken him years to learn how to keep the hungers at bay—for food, for sex, for violence. But he had, and damn it, he didn’t deserve to be treated like some kind of serial killer for something he couldn’t control.
“I don’t know,” Monica said in answer to his question.
He thought she meant to bolt, but for now she was staying still. Fists clenched. Every muscle tense. He could smell her anxiety, and it made his stomach hurt.
“No?” he asked, deliberately snide. “Here I thought that was your job.”
Her eyes had been wide, but now they narrowed. “Are you the one...?”
“No!” Angry that she’d even think it for a second, Jordan got off the bed. It stung to see how she moved away from him, so wary. Her gaze flicked to the knife he’d laid on her dresser.
He was on her before she got even two steps toward it. He could’ve hurt her if he’d tried, but he wasn’t trying. She didn’t struggle. She looked up at him instead.
“You attacked me,” she said.
“I didn’t know it was you. It was a mistake.” The excuse sounded lame, but it was the truth. “I heard the peacocks screaming, the same as you. I thought I could find what was killing the animals. I thought I could...”
“Kill it? With your bare hands?” Beneath his fingers, Monica’s arms stiffened, and he let her go. She stepped back from him, but only a step.
Jordan’s fingers curled, the tips pressing the faded scars on his palms. “I could’ve tried.”
“This is crazy. It’s crazy,” she repeated and continued almost as though she were talking to herself, “People don’t become things. It doesn’t happen. Lycanthropy is a mental disorder, sure, but it’s not...real. You can’t really be...”
“I’m real,” Jordan said flatly and pushed past her toward the door, where he paused to look back at her. “I’ve got a fucked-up genetic disorder that makes it hard for me to control my impulses. It forces physical changes, and most of the time, I can stop them, but sometimes I can’t. Sometimes I don’t want to, like last night, when I was thinking I could finally get whatever’s killing the animals. But I am real, Monica.”
She shook her head. “I don’t... I can’t...”
That was it. He’d had it. This woman had blown into his life like a fucking hurricane. He’d never asked for it.
“Fuck this noise,” Jordan said. “All I ever wanted was to do my job and be left alone. You can believe in monsters, but you can’t believe in me?”
He didn’t realize how much he’d wanted her to answer him until she didn’t, but all she gave him was her silence. His fingers curled again, pressing old wounds before he could force them to open. Then without another word, Jordan left her there alone.
CHAPTER 12
“It’s reptile, we’re pretty sure of that.” Ted pushed his glasses up on his nose and waved expansively. “Based on the blood samples you gave us and some of those markings, I compared it with a case Boris and I were on last year in Miami. Rangers had found a bunch of gators slaughtered, figured poachers, of course, but we hunted what turned out to be a monstrous fucking... Hell, it was a dinosaur, I’m telling you.”
Monica couldn’t sit still. She had Ted and Vadim in her bungalow, both of them chowing down on the deli platters DiNero’s cook had sent down, but she couldn’t take even a bite. Not with Jordan mere steps away in the next bungalow.
You can believe in monsters, but you can’t believe in me.
“You’re sure it’s reptilian?” she asked finally. “It couldn’t possibly be something else? Something we haven’t seen before?”
Vadim looked up from the sandwich he’d been piling high with meat and cheese. “What is this? You have something, Monica?”
She opened her mouth to spill it all, but at the last moment, her jaw shut with a snap of her teeth so hard on her tongue that tears sparked in her eyes. Secrets tasted like blood, she thought. She poured herself a glass of DiNero’s whiskey and sipped it, relishing the burn.
Ted shoveled a handful of chips into his mouth and kept talking. Monica liked Ted a lot, but right now with him misdirecting Vadim’s attention from her, she kind of loved him. She pretended she hadn’t heard Vadim ask her anything at all.
“The patterns are almost identical,” Ted said. “It could be something else, I guess, but I think we should go in armed for dino.”
“What happened to the one you went after in Miami?” Monica asked.
Ted sighed. “It went down in the swamp, sank like a stone. Gators were on it before we could even get close enough to try to net it or anything. But it only took a couple shotgun blasts. Thing looked like a raptor of some kind. It wasn’t much bigger than a gator—I mean, I’ve seen ones that were a lot bigger. But it stood on hind legs and worked with its front ones. Definitely smart enough to work at a lock. I could’ve kicked myself for not trying to tranq it, but when something with teeth the size of your fist is coming at you...”
“That’s the nature of our work,” Vadim put in. “If it were easy to prove what we find, we’d be out of our jobs, eh?”
He gave Monica a long, steady look that she had to pretend she didn’t notice. Everything in her world had turned upside down. She couldn’t stop turning it over and over in her head. Jordan, his touch, the sound of his voice, the way he’d made her feel.
There’d been more than a few men after Carl. She’d lost herself in physical sensation to keep herself from feeling anything else, and it had worked, in the short-term. But Jordan had been the only man so far who’d entirely chased away the remnants of the memories, left nothing lingering behind.
Sex was only sex, though.
“Monica?”
She tore herself away from memories of Jordan’s hands on her and faced Vadim. He’d been there for her, too, in many other ways that had saved her. He and the entire Crew had believed her when nobody else did. They’d helped her find a purpose to her life. Their work, their passion, was hunting myths, and here was one practically right in front of them. She could offer up living, breathing proof of something Vadim had told her wasn’t possible. But what would he do with that knowledge?
Would he hunt Jordan?
CHAPTER 13
“They’re going after it,” DiNero said, no mistaking the excitement in his voice. Like a kid on Christmas Eve. He knuckled Jordan’s arm, then punched the air and did a little shuffle. “C’mon, man, this is awesome!”
Jordan bent back to the silver fox, who’d been cowering in the corner, frightened by DiNero’s antics. “Shh, little girl. Hey. Calm down, okay? You’re scaring her.”
DiNero looked chastened. “You’re putting her in with the others now?”
“Yeah.” Jordan lifted the fox, who nestled into his armpit, hiding her face. “I think she’ll be all right there.”
DiNero couldn’t have cared less about the fox. He was all about the thing Monica’s team was here to hunt. He’d ordered Jordan to start construction on a new habitat—never mind they had no clue what the thing needed to survive, much less if they could even capture it alive. It was a bad idea, all around—that was what Jordan thought, but DiNero hadn’t asked him his opinion.
Jordan hadn’t seen Monica in three days. Not since the night she’d figured out he was something other than what she’d thought he was. He kept waiting for the Crew to show up on his doorstep with lit torches and a silver bullet. Not that it
needed to be silver to kill him, he thought grimly. A regular bullet would do it.
Leaving DiNero behind, Jordan took the silver fox to her new habitat. There he sat with her for a while as the others, a sweet red fox and another couple of silvers, sniffed them both carefully. All of the foxes in DiNero’s collection had come to the menagerie tamed and socialized, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t reject a newcomer. Jordan sat quietly while the foxes checked out the new girl. He’d brought treats. He relaxed, not wanting to transmit any anxiety toward them. Eventually, the red one came over to investigate again, and he scratched it behind the ears.
“Does he have a name?”
Jordan didn’t turn at Monica’s quiet question. “DiNero doesn’t name them. I just call him Red.”
“Of course. Can I come in?”
He shrugged. When she sat next to him, he didn’t turn to face her. The silver fox had ventured off his lap, and at Monica’s entrance, the others ran away, too. She didn’t say anything at first.
“Are you going to tell them about me? Your crew. Am I going to show up in your database?”
She made a soft noise. “No. I don’t know.”
“DiNero thinks he’s going to keep this gator thing you’re hunting.”
“Ted would be happy not to kill it if it means he gets to study it,” she answered.
Jordan looked at her. “It killed a tiger and mountain lions. You really think you’re going to take it alive?”
“No. I don’t know that, either,” she added. “Maybe. I haven’t been able to think much about it.”
He studied her, thinking he wouldn’t ask her why, but the words came out anyway. “Is that so?”
When she moved toward him, he didn’t recoil. Something in his expression must’ve told her how he felt, though, because she sat back. She looked tired.
“I’m sorry if you thought I was cruel, Jordan.”
“About what? About using me to get over some kind of trauma, or about reminding me my life’s a fucking mess, or what?” He tossed a treat toward the new silver fox, who took it with a small yip.
“About everything. I did use you, and I’m sorry. And I do believe in...you.”
He looked at her. “Sure. Like you do in Bigfoot.”
“No. Like I believe in you. A man who cares very much for those he’s vowed to protect.” She tipped her chin toward the foxes. She touched her side, briefly, where he’d slashed her. Her gaze met his, frank and open.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” he said in a low voice.
“I know you didn’t. But I did mean to do it to you.”
“You were fighting for your life, or you thought you were. I could’ve hurt you really bad. I could’ve...” He swallowed, hard. “I could’ve killed you.”
“But you didn’t.”
He shook his head. “I’m not an animal. I do know what I’m doing. Even when the hunger gets too big.”
“Do you actually change? I mean...”
“Do I turn into a wolf?”
She looked a little embarrassed. “Yeah.”
“No. Not like in the movies. My teeth are sharp. My nails grow fast. If I don’t shave twice a day, I’m a fucking lumberjack by midafternoon. I’m strong all the time. Adrenaline spikes it. Certain things trigger me. And then it can be hard not to just—” he shrugged “—rampage. Gorge and destroy and fuck.”
She made a small noise. He looked at her. She bit her lower lip as though struggling for words.
“I work with myths and mysteries,” she told him. “It’s in my nature to want to know more.”
Jordan looked at the foxes playing. Not at her. “I’m not the only one, you know. It’s a family thing. My parents were both recessive carriers. It’s a nasty secret we keep. You want me to spill out everything about myself? About my family? I hardly know you.”
“I know that.” Her soft intake of breath told him his words had hurt her, but he forced himself not to care.
“Just because I fucked you doesn’t mean I owe you any damned thing.” Jordan got to his feet.
That was when all hell broke loose.
CHAPTER 14
Ted and Vadim had set a trap and caught themselves a dinogator. Six feet long on its hind legs, talons like razors, teeth sharper than that. A hide so thick handgun bullets bounced off it, but Ted had come prepared with tranquilizers this time, and a dart to the underbelly had felled the creature. DiNero was out of a prize, though, because much like in Miami, the moment the thing went down, it was surrounded by gators that swarmed to devour it.
“Nature’s way of cleaning up her messes,” Ted said morosely to Monica as he and Vadim packed up their van. “I’ve never seen alligators act like that.”
“Pheromones. Something like that. Put them in a frenzy. Hell if I know.” Vadim shrugged and shook his head. “But where there’s two, there must be more. You’ll get another chance, Ted.”
DiNero had been disappointed, of course, but it seemed he was consoling himself with moving forward on purchasing an elephant instead. Monica didn’t think that was the smartest decision the man could’ve made with his money, but it was probably better than trying to keep some swamp monster in captivity. The upward bump in her bank-account balance was all she really cared about anyway.
Well, that and something else.
“You’re sure you don’t want to ride back with us?” Vadim gave her a curious look as he shut the van’s back doors. “Road trips can be fun, eh?”
Ted waggled his brows. “I have a great playlist. And I convinced Vadim to spring for three-star motels this time around. Not just two.”
“Wow, the offer is so tempting.” She laughed. “I think I’ll stick with my original plans, though. I’ve never been to New Orleans. While I’m down here, I thought I’d like to check it out. Drink a hurricane or two. Tour a cemetery.”
“Suit yourself.” Vadim shrugged. “Don’t get suckered into a ghost tour.”
Monica snorted soft laughter. “Like I can’t do one of those for free just about anytime I want?”
Ted got into the van, and Vadim pulled her closer for an unexpected embrace. Even more surprisingly, she didn’t merely allow him the hug but returned it. Pressed to the big man’s chest, Monica closed her eyes. She didn’t want to cry, but damn if she didn’t feel close to tears.
“Sometimes this job can be very hard,” Vadim said into her ear. Monica nodded against him. He squeezed her gently. “But remember, we don’t fear the unknown. We make it ours. Yes?”
She pushed away to look at him. “Cryptic.”
He grinned. “There’s more to life than hunting things in the swamps, Monica. But you sometimes have to be as fearless in seeking out life as you are about looking for the chupacabra.”
Vadim squeezed her again before stepping back. From inside the van came a loud thumping bass beat. He sighed and shook his head.
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to come with us?”
“I’m good.” Monica eyed the van. “Especially if that’s Ted’s playlist.”
Waving, she watched them drive off, then headed for the bungalow to pack up her things. A rap on the door had her heart racing; she tried not to act disappointed when she opened it to find DiNero, not Jordan. DiNero didn’t seem to notice. He bustled in with the same high energy he’d had the whole time.
“He ran off!”
“We told you there was no guarantee we could catch it alive,” Monica began, but DiNero stopped her with a look. “Who?”
“Leone. He took leave. He didn’t even give me notice—he just said he’s off to his place in New Orleans for a few weeks. He left Karen in charge, but I have a group of guests coming to stay next week, and damn it, I need Jordan here. Nobody can show off my animals the way he can.”
Monica
frowned. “He...left?”
“Yeah, said he needed a vacation.” DiNero shook his head. “I think it’s because he doesn’t want me to get the elephant.”
“Maybe.” She paused, wondering if she ought to offer him something to drink. It was his own booze, after all. DiNero put his hands on his hips, staring at her. She tried to think of what to say. “Um...”
“Well, it’s a clusterfuck, that’s all. I need someone who can really handle the animals. I mean if they’re sick or whatever.”
“Hasn’t he gone on vacation before?”
“Yeah, but I...” DiNero looked her over. “He always gave me notice, and I brought in another handler until he came back. And he was only ever gone a few days before. Shit, what will I do if he doesn’t come back?”
Monica didn’t have a lot of patience for people who worked themselves into a lather for no real reason, but now all she could do was shake her head. “He’ll come back. Why wouldn’t he? He loves his job here. He loves working with the animals. He’s...happy here.”
She wasn’t sure if that was true, actually. He’d seemed content enough, here out of the way. What had he said to her? All he wanted was to do his job and be left alone.
Shit.
She’d chased him away, she was sure of it. “Where did you say he went, exactly?”
“He has some place in New Orleans that he keeps. I don’t know exactly where.” DiNero sighed. “And you’re heading out, too? Great.”
“My job’s done. You don’t need me here.”
DiNero gave her a long, assessing look that left him about three seconds away from getting a knee to the nuts. “Now that you’re off the clock, so to speak...”
“Don’t even.” Monica shook her head and put up a hand. “Do not.”
DiNero grinned. “Worth a shot, huh? Can’t blame a guy for trying. I mean, I know I’m no Leone, but I have a lot going for me other than brooding good looks and sex appeal.”