SavageLust by Desiree Holt Read Free Book Online Page A

badge.
    Craig had decided they all needed to carry something to
identify themselves, to give them an air of legitimacy. The card contained only
each individual’s name, cell number, email address and, in italic script, Night
Seekers .
    Regan picked it up, frowning. “What’s this?”
    “I have a slight confession. When I identified myself as a
Chicago cop, that was only half true. I—”
    “Damn you!” She started to slide out of the booth. “And damn
your boss who lied for you!”
    Dante closed his fingers over her wrist. Again, an electric
shock zipped through his arm, stunning him once more. From the shock on Regan’s
face, she felt it too. He had to steel himself not to pull his hand away from
her, from the heat of her skin nearly burning his fingertips.
    What the hell?
    “Stop. Wait.” Reflexively, he tightened his hold on her. “He
didn’t lie. Exactly. I’m not a reporter. I promise you. Give me five minutes to
explain myself. After that, if you want to leave, you can. Please. Just five
minutes.”
    She didn’t look happy but she did as he asked, body rigid,
eyes flashing.
    Make it good and make it believable.
    He peeled his fingers from her wrist, hoping it would help
his body return to some semblance of normalcy. If he even knew what normal was
anymore.
    “The first thing you should know is, I’ve seen pictures of
your brother’s body—and he isn’t the first to die in this manner.”
    She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “The police said it
was an animal of some kind. I made them let me see the body.” She shivered and
rubbed her forehead, where lines of stress creased it. “It was horrible. They
insist it’s some rabid animal.”
    “In a manner of speaking, it is,” he agreed. “But not like
anything they’ve seen before. My wife was killed exactly the same way.” He sat
back in the booth and closed his eyes for a moment, banishing the image of
Felicia that came unbidden to his mind. “Her death is the reason I left
Chicago, the reason I’m no longer a cop. What I have to tell you is going to
sound totally off the wall, so please, try to listen with an open mind.”
    Keeping his voice as even as he could, he laid it all out
for her—the killings that brought Night Seekers together, the recent slaughter
all over the country, the research they’d done. Before he left the ranch, he
had taken the time to load pictures from the previous cases Night Seekers was
involved in, to show her the condition of the bodies. Now he scrolled through
them on his tablet one by one. He kept his voice level and even, uninflected,
forcing back the pain that stabbed through him as each body reminded him of
Felicia.
    Regan stared at his tablet as he flicked through the photos.
The look on her face was one of horror, and when he finished, every bit of
color had leached from her skin. But for some reason, he had a feeling the
condition of the bodies wasn’t new to her, and not because of her brother. But
how could that be? This was the first Chupacabra killing in the area.
    Maybe he was just imagining things.
    “I-I’ve seen pictures like this before,” she told him, as if
reading his mind. “Well, drawings. But not in living color like this.”
    Dante’s body went on alert. He was right. “You’ve seen
pictures of Chupacabra kills? Where? How?”
    “Just…” She pressed her fingertips to her eyelids as if
trying to erase the images. “Give me a minute, okay?”
    Dante’s uncanny instincts were doing a fast step in every
one of his nerves right then. Something was off and he had to find out what.
    Clint suddenly materialized at the booth with two mugs of
coffee and two glasses of water.
    “Can I get you anything else?” he asked her politely,
concern etched on his face. Dante knew Clint had seen the evil presence up
close and personal, and the image never left his mind.
    Regan shook her head. “No. Thank you. Nothing else for me.”
    ”Me, either,” Dante told him. “Not right now.