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  They had to find these creatures. Put a stop to the abominations or he’d never have any peace.

  Logan Tanner and Rebecca Black had just returned from Montana, where the Chupacabra had suddenly appeared, killing two people and nearly a third before Logan, Rebecca and the team they’d assembled managed to destroy it. At least there was one more group of law enforcement officers who now believed in the devil beast. They’d seen it with their own eyes.

  Dante knew the trip had been stressful, as all these trips were for team members. But in the cold Montana wilds, Logan and Rebecca’s relationship had grown. Night before last, they’d arrived back at the ranch exhausted from the trip but with a commitment to each other that was unmistakable.

  More wedding bells, Dante knew as he approached the patio that led to his room. Logan and Rebecca were determined not to waste a minute. And why should they? All the Night Seekers knew how fragile life was and how important it was to grab on to it. It wasn’t that he begrudged the team members finding their soul mates as they carried out their missions. To the contrary, he wished them all well. But every new couple just reminded him of what he’d lost, and would likely never have again. He couldn’t begin to imagine finding a love even close to what he’d had with Felicia.

  But he could dig out a smile for Logan and Rebecca, as he had for the others. Then retreat to his solitude and concentrate on eradicating the satanic beasts from existence.

  As he slid open the patio door to his bedroom, the pager on his belt went off. One of the team rules maintained whenever anyone left the house, even if they were still on the vast land surrounding Desolation Ranch, they carried both a cellphone and a pager. The latter was backup in case they were out of cell range.

  Dante pulled it from his belt and looked at the readout.

  Five-five-five.

  The signal that Craig was arriving for a meeting.

  Dante knew the reason for his early-morning visit. Craig had confirmed the attack Dante had pulled up information on was definitely Chupacabra. That meant all hands on deck. As he stripped off his shorts and t-shirt, he heard the familiar whop whop whop of the rotors on the chopper, signaling Craig’s arrival, and hurried through a shower. Quickly drying himself off, he caught a look at himself in the mirror.

  Unlike most of the other men at Desolation Ranch, his clothing of choice didn’t have a hint of Texas. Instead, the former Chicago cop favored worn jeans, black t-shirts and running shoes. At five ten, he had a lean body, honed by the regular morning sprints he’d been doing for years. His midnight-black hair was longer now than he used to wear it, almost touching his shoulders. When he was running or in work mode, he pulled it back with a rubber band.

  Eyes the color of black ink and a sculpted face bore the stamp of tragedy that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to erase.

  He wasn’t a tracker like some of the others. He had lived his entire life in the city, so acclimating to the emptiness of this vast ranchland had probably been harder for him than anyone else. His one previous foray into the wilderness had been a vacation to a cabin owned by a friend near one of the state parks.

  A vacation that ended in disaster, his wife killed by the Chupacabra.

  He’d found her body behind the cabin and the image continued to haunt him in unrelenting nightmares. He had taken a hiatus from his job, had used the time to search for similar killings, refusing to believe any animal he knew of could have done that damage. He’d foraged the internet, shocked beyond belief at what he’d found. It was while conducting this research that Craig Stafford had contacted him, explaining the legend of the Chupacabra in detail.

  And its reality.

  For a city boy, it was a lot to take in. By the time Craig found him four years later, Dante had long since quit his job and was already more than halfway to believing the unbelievable. Joining the man’s team had been a no-brainer. It had given him focus and resources. He had his own special set of skills he brought to the job, an ability to do almost anything with computers. In Chicago he had been a star of the cybercrimes unit. Here, he worked closely with team leader Ric Garza, scouring the cyber world for any information they could find.

  It still shocked Dante that they weren’t looking for just one beast any longer. They’d killed one in Zapata County in South Texas, only to discover another popping up elsewhere. Then another place. Unable to ignore the horrendous evidence, their mission had taken on a deeper focus, searching for some kind of hidden facility, which the madman breeding them would need to carry out such exacting work. That meant changing search parameters and writing new programs to scrutinize the scientific world as well.

  Dante had become almost manic about it, often working through the night. Maybe others could let themselves be distracted by love, but not him. He’d already lost the great love of his life. And sex was the last thing on his mind as he worked with the team. He had never recovered from Felicia’s death, neither her loss nor the gruesome way she was killed. The nightmares still haunted him. He didn’t think he’d ever find another woman to take her place and had deliberately shut himself off from any emotion resembling love. No one could take Felicia’s place, nor did he want someone to. He wanted vengeance and satisfaction. That would be enough.

  After that? He didn’t much care.

  Each time a report came in, he chafed to be the one assigned to the hunt. Over the long months since they’d all moved to Desolation Ranch, other teammates investigated the reported killings while he spent his time researching as much as he could, contributing his computer expertise and learning to accept the existence of shifters. Dante was doing his best to patiently bide his time. He memorized photos, read the lab reports sent by Craig’s scientists who autopsied the carcasses, studied notes on the killing scenes. One of these times it would be his turn.

  Filling his coffee mug on his way through the kitchen, he joined the others in the war room and focused on Ric. The team leader stood facing the members seated at the big conference table in the middle of the room. Behind him was a wall of screens that served as monitors for surface computing images and video conference calls. Beneath the screens was a long, specially designed shelf that held a wide array of computer keyboards and other electronics.

  The first time he’d gathered them in this room, Craig had made it known that while they were all equal, every team needed a leader. He couldn’t be that person because he couldn’t be on site on a daily basis. Everyone had automatically turned to Ric, the former Texas Ranger and head of a Delta Force team. The hierarchy worked smoothly. Everyone respected Ric and acknowledged that someone had to be holding the reins. He always conducted their briefings.

  But today, Craig was standing beside Ric, taking the lead.

  As Dante sat in the tension-filled room with his teammates, he wondered if maybe this would be his time. He was the one who’d picked up the news item and done the research. He had pulled up maps of the area as well as everything he could find on the victim and the missing woman. He’d given it all to Ric to forward to Craig. He wanted this case. He was ready.

  “Thank you all for coming together so quickly. As always, we have an urgent problem here.” Craig looked at Logan and Rebecca, seated close together. “First of all,” he told them, “I apologize, but any wedding plans are going to have to be postponed for a bit. Once again, we have a situation. And the danger is considerably ramped up.”

  “No problem,” Logan told him. “If it’s another Chupacabra killing, that definitely comes first.”

  “Thank you.” Craig nodded to Ric, who turned to a keyboard behind him and at once, a newspaper article and a picture appeared on three of the screens. The article didn’t contain anything helpful but the picture of the dead victim was as horrifying as all the others they’d seen.

  If they hadn’t all had personal experience with a Chupacabra killing—some of them more than once—they might have been shocked. Still, it was hard to become inured to such gruesome violence. Dante was pretty sure he never would
be.

  Ric activated his laser pointer. “You can see the two puncture marks in the neck. The report we…obtained, said all the blood had been drained from the body.” He moved the laser pointer. “And here you can see the flesh ripped open from neck to groin and, as usual, the entrails lay outside the body as if just tossed there.”

  “The pattern of the kill never varies,” Craig reminded them. “And again, there were no traces of anything to follow.”

  “But no one even knows what to look for except us,” Logan said. “It’s possible the police even trampled over things they thought weren’t important.”

  Dante fiddled with his mug. “We need to get out there ourselves and see what we can find. Of course, like all the others, there probably won’t be much.”

  “How recently did it happen?” Mark Guitron asked. “Just a few hours ago?”

  Ric shook his head. “It happened three days ago. Apparently the law enforcement agency called in has been sitting on it, I’m sorry to say.”

  “And why did they do that?” Sophia Black Beltaire wanted to know.

  “You can figure that out,” Ric answered. “It happened in a state park, the governor doesn’t want anything to upset tourism, doesn’t want to start a panic.”

  “Which governor?” Sophia pressed.

  Ric glanced at Craig before answering. “The governor of Texas. The killing took place at Pedernales Falls State Park—only about an hour from here. And the agency in charge is the Texas Rangers.”

  Silence blanketed the room for a long moment.

  “That’s practically in our backyard,” Jonah Grey pointed out.

  The first Night Seekers case had been assigned to Jonah. It had also been in Texas but south of them, near the border of Mexico. Dante noted that as Ric spoke, Jonah reached automatically for his wife Dakota’s hand. They had met during that case and both still had terrible memories of it.

  “It is,” Craig agreed. He turned to look at one of the screens behind him, where Ric had put up a graphic of Kendall, Gillespie and Blanco counties. The ranch straddled the line between Kendall and Gillespie, but they knew the reason Craig had purchased this particular acreage was because it was so inaccessible and geographically unfriendly. It certainly discouraged visitors.

  Dante watched as Ric fiddled with one of the keyboards and in a moment, a red dot appeared in Blanco County, then another that denoted the location of the ranch.

  “I’m sure every one of you is as disturbed as I am,” Craig told them, “to realize one of these creatures is now so close to us.”

  Ric swiped the keyboard surface again and a series of photos popped up on three more blank screens.

  “For those unfamiliar with it, let me give you an idea of the geography of the place. Wolf Mountain Trail is one of the most popular trails for hikers in Texas, especially around here.” He pressed the remote he was holding and a picture of dense forest expanded on the screen. “There’s a lot of scrubland, some dense cedar woods plus a lot of elm and other trees that provide thick forestation, lots of beautiful valley vistas. Some bluffs with fairly steep walls plus a well-known waterfall. And then there’s Jones Spring.”

  The picture changed again.

  “This is apparently where the hikers stopped for lunch. Just below this little drop-off is the spring, and as you can see, the area behind it is heavily wooded.”

  “Ric, did you say hikers?” Sophia asked. “As in plural?”

  He nodded. “And that’s the other wrinkle here.”

  Logan asked. “What kind of so-called wrinkle are we talking about?”

  “Actually, more than one,” Craig answered.

  “Let me back up a little.” Ric enlarged the picture of Jones Spring. “Like I said, this is a popular trail with hikers. A couple—Lisa McKay and Reed Fortune—were out camping for the weekend to celebrate their engagement. They’re big hikers, apparently. They were due back Sunday night. When they didn’t check in with anyone, Reed’s sister tried calling both of their cellphones, without any luck. So she called the park ranger and asked him to look for them.”

  “So he found the bodies?” Mark asked.

  “Some other unfortunate hikers had found it the day before. A bunch of college kids out hiking for the day.”

  “Needless to say,” Craig put in, “they were badly traumatized by the discovery. We all know what a nightmare that sight can be.”

  “When the park ranger got the call from Regan Fortune,” Ric continued, “he asked her for a physical description of her brother and it matched the body. Or what was left of it.”

  “What about the fiancée?” This from Mark again, tension underlining his words.

  Ric shook his head. “That’s major problem number one—she’s disappeared.”

  “Disappeared?” The sharp cry echoed in the room.

  Everyone turned to look at Chloe Guitron sitting rigid in her chair, her face bleached white, her knuckles pressed to her mouth.

  Every single person was acutely aware of the fact that Chloe’s closest friend, Melinda, had disappeared in Zapata County in South Texas right after a Chupacabra kill. She still hadn’t been found. Her disappearance, combined with another killing by the devil beast, was what had led to the conclusion that someone was breeding them in a most horrific way.

  Combining DNA not from just a variety of animals, but possibly also from humans.

  Mark slid his chair closer to his wife’s and pulled her into his arms.

  “If they’re keeping a lid on it,” Jonah said, “how did this leak out?”

  “One of the hikers who found the body has a brother who’s a reporter,” Craig answered. “Need I say more?” He shoved his hands into his pockets, worry and frustration written on his face. “I called the Ranger headquarters in Austin and offered our services.”

  “Let me guess,” Logan snorted. “They turned us down and said our theory is just so much crap. Just like every other agency when we first approach them.”

  “Not in those exact words but yes. They shut the door on us.”

  Sophia slammed her hand on the table. “Why do we always have to go through this? The cops always give us a hard time and at least one more person has to die before they let us do our thing. What’s the matter with everyone?”

  Ric grunted. “They all say the same thing. No matter how much evidence we show them, they think our story is too farfetched. Most people just don’t want to believe it, Sophia. It’s beyond what they can accept. Even when they see the carcasses of the beasts we kill, they can’t seem to accept the truth. They insist it’s some other wild animal. Some hybrid. They refuse to believe what they see because the truth is too horrific for them to grasp.”

  “But here in Texas, the legend’s been around a long time,” she protested.

  He nodded. “And that’s exactly what they think it is. A legend.”

  Dante bit down on his frustration. Just as the police in Illinois had told him he was crazy, so had every other police department since Night Seekers was formed. He wanted to grab them all and shake some sense into them. “Ric, since you’re a former Ranger, should we assume you’ll head the investigation? Maybe try to serve as a liaison?” he asked.

  It was Craig who answered. “Actually, Dante, I hate to say it, but no. There are a lot of politics involved here.”

  “Politics?” This from Logan. “You mean, more than usual?”

  Craig’s laugh was anything but humorous. “The Texas Rangers are probably one of the best law enforcement units in the country, but they have to follow procedure like everyone else. The governor’s tangled up in it and everyone is concerned about the effect on tourism as well as the safety of the population. They all want to keep a lid on this thing and I’m pretty sure they’ll view Ric as coming from the other side, instead of as a fellow Ranger.”

  “We had the same problem with the last two situations,” Logan said. “In Montana, my being a former deputy sheriff didn’t open any doors for me until we had a second killing
. And when Sophia and I were in Maine, they let us in on the investigation but only because she’s a former detective and you used your muscle.”

  “I’m going to try pulling some strings here too,” Craig added. “Let’s see if I have the kind of clout I tell myself I do. But again, the Rangers are a whole different ball game.”

  “Question.” Dante looked from Ric to Craig and back again. “Let’s say they sell the story that some rabid animal is responsible for this and people should just be very careful. How do they explain the disappearance of the woman?”

  “The prevailing theory,” Craig told him, “is that she was frightened by the animal and ran off.”

  “And she’s still hiding? Or lost?” Mark was incredulous. “Are they fucking stupid? Wait, they are. Or afraid to examine the alternatives.”

  “Just like always,” Rebecca said. “It’s a battle to get them to listen.”

  “To be fair,” Ric told her, “if you weren’t as involved in this as you are, would you believe a Chupacabra story if someone walked in off the street and laid it on you?”

  “I know, I know,” she grumbled. “It wasn’t any different in Maine or Montana.”

  “Or further south in Texas,” Jonah pointed out.

  “But even if they’re right, and even if she got lost, they’ve had three days to find her. I’d think a trained Search and Rescue team would have located her by this time,” Dante argued.

  “You’d think.” Ric thinned his lips. “I’m proud that I was a Ranger, and I’ll always feel that connection. But all of us have had personal experiences with the devil beast, have lost someone to it, and with the cases we’ve worked? We know all about the wall of resistance out there, even in Texas where the legend has been rampant for ages.”

 

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