Rita Herron - Force of the Falcon

Not that that was entirely her mother’s fault. No, her own stubborn pride and guilt had kept her from turning to her mother after the divorce.

And from confiding about her handicapped baby.

Her mother’s bitter warnings about Stan whispered in her ears. Evelyn had never liked him. She’d tried to convince Sonya that Stan was selfish, that underneath his charm lay the heart of a manipulative man who wanted to control every aspect of his life, including his wife and child.

A man who hated imperfections.

God, if she’d only listened to her mother…

But then she wouldn’t have her daughter. And she couldn’t imagine not having Katie in her life.

But in light of the attack tonight, she should rethink her silence. Katie would love Evelyn, and her mother…she sensed her mother would accept Katie and her limitations.

Brack shifted slightly, and she tensed as he opened his eyes and stared into hers.

“Are you all right?” he asked in a voice husky with sleep.

She nodded, well aware of how intimate the small, dark room seemed. His breathing rattled in the silence that followed, as if he, too, felt the sexual tension between them.

“Do you need something?” he said in a low voice. “Pain medication?”

She shook her head, her emotions ping-ponging in her chest. Why did his soft, husky tone make her want to cling to him?

And why did the thought of doing so terrify her?

The door squeaked open, and Margaret and her husband came in. Sonya sighed in relief, knowing she needed a reality check and for Brack Falcon to leave. He was taking up too much of the room. His scent, his body, seemed to fill it.

Margaret worried her bottom lip when she saw Brack in the room and maintained her distance from him, as if he might bite. Sonya explained about the attack, and Margaret gasped, then hugged her arms around herself.

“I’ve heard about the ghosts that haunt the town,” Margaret said, “and I knew wild animals lived in the woods, but this is awful.”

Her husband frowned, looking worried, then scooped Katie into his arms, and they left, both dismissing Brack’s offer of assistance.

A muscle twitched in his jaw as he stood and worked the kinks from his long legs. “I’ll go now.”

Sonya inhaled, wondering if she should have assured Margaret that Brack was safe. But she couldn’t. “Thank you, Brack. For everything.”

Anger glinted in his eyes. “No problem.”

Sonya told herself it didn’t matter what he thought of her. She didn’t intend to apologize for her friends wanting to protect her daughter. It was better he leave now. Hopefully, they wouldn’t have to cross paths again.

Because she had no intention of getting involved with him or any other man.

HIS HUNGER was mounting, growing more incessant, the need to feed more often throbbing within him.

He wanted to taste Sonya again. She had been so delicious the first time that he craved more. But he had to bide his time.

When he saw her, and he would see her, she must never know how he felt about her.

He would befriend her. Earn her trust. Become her confidant.

And hide his dark side.

Until then, he had to find prey elsewhere.

He dipped his talon in blood, drew out a white sheet of paper, and began to write.

Some animals mate only once

You are mine now, Sonya.

You wear my markings

and will for life.

Laughter and lust sang through his bloodstream as he drew a heart on the page with the blood. He wouldn’t give her the note just yet. But one day he would.

Instead, he’d leave her a small present. A token to assure her that he hadn’t forgotten her.

His animal instincts alive, he set off into the woods, eyes piercing the darkness, senses alert for the weak.

First the hunt.

Then the kill.

Then he would spread the blood of his victim on her door so she would know he hadn’t deserted her. That he was coming back.

And that soon she would be his.

Brack stalked outside, battling irritation at the wary look Sonya’s babysitter had given him. Sonya had looked relieved to have him leave, as well.

Hell, what did he care?

He had a job to do, and he’d damn well do it. Someone or something was hurting the birds he loved, and he intended to put a stop to it.

He phoned Deke and Rex and filled them in while he drove back to the house. A half hour later, he met his brothers in the library to strategize.

“Sheriff Cohen thinks we’re raising mutant attack birds up here,” Brack said.

Deke gave a belly laugh and Rex cursed. “Sheriff Cohen is a moron.”

Brack’s sentiments exactly. “He’s determined to pin these attacks on us, and to run us out of town.”

“We’re not scared kids anymore.” Rex sipped his coffee. “And he’s not running us or our families out of town again.”

“I’d like to see him run out of office,” Deke muttered.

Brack and Rex said amen to that comment.

“He threatened to bring someone in from the state agencies to check out the birds, but I don’t trust him,” Brack explained. “I think we should call in our own wildlife biologist, someone who can help us figure out what the hell’s going on. If it’s up to Cohen, he’ll destroy the falcons and burn down Falcon Ridge.”

“Over my dead body,” Rex snapped.

“We’ll get to the bottom of it first, get the animal rights activists on board if we have to,” Deke assured him. “You were in the woods, Brack? What do you think happened to the woman?”

The memory of Sonya’s terrified eyes haunted him. “I don’t know. I heard a horrific attack cry that sounded half human, half animal. And you’ve both seen the injured falcons. Something is literally ripping out their talons and mauling them to death.”

“I’ve never seen birds prey on each other like this, or on humans,” Rex said. “We should have the remains of the mutilated birds tested.”

“I’ll talk to the vet, Doctor Priestly,” Brack said. “In fact, I’ve been wondering how this predator catches the birds. We all know that’s next to impossible with a healthy raptor.”

“Which means he may injure them in some other way first,” Deke said.

“We haven’t found bullet wounds in them, though,” Brack said.

“Maybe he’s poisoning them somehow,” Rex said. “Tainting their food source with something to make them ill. I’ll get the EPA out here right away.”

Brack hissed, “And I’ll have Doctor Priestly run tests, look at tox screens.”

“You said the little girl claimed a monster bird attacked her mother?” Deke asked.

Brack nodded.

The three men exchanged skeptical but worried looks. “There were talon marks on Sonya’s back.” Her wounds had looked odd, sadistic like an animal, but humans could be sadistic, as well. Often, psychopaths began their criminal activities by killing pets and other animals as children. Then their violence escalated. Perhaps that was the case here.

“Is the woman going to be all right?” Rex asked.

Brack nodded. “She’ll heal, she seems tough. By the way, they’re our neighbors. She and her daughter just moved in to that old farmhouse down the hill.”

“The one built over the land that’s supposedly possessed?” Rex asked.

Brack nodded. He didn’t know if Sonya had known about the rumor when she’d bought the farmhouse or not. But bad things had happened there before. A murder years ago. Another questionable death in the woods last year. Some said the land was tainted, that it held evil itself because of the miners who’d died and been buried below ground.

“Maybe Elsie and Allison can stop by and see her,” Deke suggested.

Brack nodded, remembering how difficult Elsie’s life had been. Her father had kidnapped her from her mother when she was four, then abandoned her in an orphanage for unwed mothers when she was thirteen. She’d been abused and traumatized and had only recently reconnected with her mother—all thanks to Deke. Then Deke had married her, and now they planned to open a center for troubled teens in town.