Рита Херрон – Force of the Falcon (страница 6)

“Doctor Waverman called the sheriff,” Amy said. “To report the attacks.”

Sheriff Cohen. Dammit. He was the last person in town Brack wanted to see. He hated the man for railroading his father into jail twenty years ago. And he’d tried to run Rex out of town when he’d first arrived, and he’d interfered with their investigation.

“Oh, there he is now.” She rushed forward to greet the sheriff, then gestured toward Brack. Sheriff Cohen’s jowls shook as he gave Brack a once-over. His look said it all. Why had the Falcon boys returned to Falcon Ridge—to cause trouble?

Cohen shifted, then jerked his pants up with his stubby thumbs and stalked toward Brack. “So, you’re the other Falcon?”

Brack nodded. “Sheriff.”

“You found the Silverstein woman?”

“Yes.”

His bushy eyebrows climbed his forehead. “Mind telling me what you were doing out in the woods?”

“You know my family rescues injured birds. Lately there have been several attacks on the animals. I heard a loud screeching sound, and was out checking on them.”

“You were searching for wounded birds?” Suspicion laced the sheriff’s gruff voice.

“Yes. Then I heard a scream and found the woman on the ground. She’d been attacked. But she told me to look for her little girl.” He forced a steely calm to his voice although the memory of having to leave the woman alone haunted him. “I found Katie hiding in a cave, then carried them both to my house and phoned the paramedics.” He finished matter-of-factly, glaring at the sheriff, willing him to defy his statement.

“You know what attacked the woman?” Cohen asked.

Brack shook his head. “I didn’t see the actual attack.”

A doctor appeared through a set of double doors, then introduced himself to Brack and the sheriff. “Is Ms. Silverstein awake yet?” Sheriff Cohen asked. “I’d like to get her statement.”

Dr. Waverman shook his head. “She’s pretty heavily sedated, but we can go in for just a moment. Her daughter is with her.”

“Tell me about her injuries,” Sheriff Cohen ordered.

Dr. Waverman winced, then described the claw marks on Sonya’s back and hands. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. The marks look like talons but some of them are so large…”

“Damn birds,” Sheriff Cohen said. “This is you and your brothers’ fault,” he snapped. “We never had trouble with birds attacking people before, not till you moved back and started providing a refuge for them. Are you breeding some special kind that feeds on humans?”

Brack’s blood ran cold at the man’s accusations. “That’s ridiculous. If the birds are attacking people, they must be sick.”

“Then they need to be destroyed,” Sheriff Cohen said.

Brack’s jaw tightened, his control teetering on the edge. What kind of ignorant moron was Cohen? “What they need is medical treatment.”

“Gentlemen, why don’t we see what Sonya has to say before we do anything rash,” Dr. Waverman suggested.

Brack and the sheriff exchanged silent, menacing looks, but followed quietly. The scent of antiseptic and medicines pervaded the halls; the beep of hospital machinery and rattling of medicine carts and gurneys added a layer of charged tension.

Brack’s gut clenched when he stepped inside. Sonya lay against the stark white sheets, her dark curly hair spread across the pillow, her face pale in sleep. Long dark lashes curled against ivory skin dotted with the faintest row of freckles. Her lips were a natural ruby color, her chin slightly pointed, her face heart-shaped. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her before, but she was stunning, like a real-life Sleeping Beauty. The childish story taunted him—if he kissed her, would she wake up and be healed?

Ridiculous.

His gaze landed on her bandaged hands and anger churned through him. A primitive surge of protective instincts swelled in his chest, as well.

The sheriff walked over and stared at Katie with a scowl. She looked impossibly small and fragile huddled in the chair beside her mother’s hospital bed. Someone, probably the nurse, had helped her into fresh dry pajamas and socks, and had thought to give her a pad of paper and some crayons. She was drawing intently, her pug nose scrunched in concentration.

“Katie, did you see the animal that attacked your mother?” Sheriff Cohen asked.

So much for tact.

Katie slowly tipped her face upward, but she cowered into the chair away from the hulking sheriff.

Brack strode forward and knelt beside her chair. She automatically reached for his hand, and he slid it around her trembling shoulder. “It’s all right, honey. We just need to know what happened to your mommy.”

“It was one of those hawks, wasn’t it?” Cohen asked. “They’ve been attacking each other, and tonight they attacked your mother, isn’t that right?”

Katie’s lower lip quivered. “I d-don’t k-know what it was.”

“What do you mean, honey?” Brack asked softly.

“It wooked wike a giant bird,” she whispered, “but it w-was a monster.”

Brack gritted his teeth, then glanced at the picture she’d drawn. Although it was crude, a four-year-old’s handiwork, the definite shape of a winged creature filled the page. Maybe a large eagle or hawk. Black and brown, with long, sharp talons.

Except this bird had the head of a human.

HE LIFTED his talons in front of him, smiling at the torn flesh and blood lingering on the sharp edges. Tonight the animal inside him had emerged from the gray emptiness of the night, called to life by the scent of blood and fear.

First the eagle that he had ripped apart with his talons. Then the little girl’s terrorized cry. The scent of her small body. Then the smell of a woman’s.

Oh, but she had tasted sweet.

Her blood had only whetted his appetite for the hungers of the flesh. For her body. Her heart. Her soul.

She had been the first human.

But not the last.

The animals had served him well in the beginning. But as he fed the beast within him, the need for more sustenance grew.

From now on, the birds would be his appetizer.

Then he’d feast on a human’s blood and let the two mingle together.

Chapter Four

Brack stared at the drawing of the winged monster, and his gut clenched. Katie was only a child, was tiny herself, and she’d been terrified—had she imagined the half bird-half man? Or could it really exist? Some kind of mutant…

No, it was impossible. He practically lived in those woods, knew the mountains. If such a creature existed, he would have seen it.

There are places to hide, a voice whispered inside his head. The old mines and tunnels. The dark edges of the forest…

The rumors about the epidemic of typhoid fever that had once destroyed half the town rose from the depths of his subconscious. The bodies had been burned, buried in a tunnel underground, the old mine blasted shut, hoping to contain the germs of the dead. He’d always wondered if somehow the ashes of those who’d died might filter into the land or water and rise to haunt them.

“Katie—” Sheriff Cohen leaned over, beefy hands on his knees “—was that what you saw, or are you getting the birds mixed up with this man here?” He pointed to Brack. “Are you sure he didn’t attack your mother?”

Katie’s eyes widened to saucer size, and Brack cursed silently. How dare Cohen suggest that he had attacked Sonya? The son of a…

Cold rage poured through him, but he stood ramrod straight, his pulse pounding as he waited on Katie’s response. He didn’t know what he’d do if she decided she should fear him, but the thought disturbed him more than he wanted to admit.

Sonya’s eyelashes fluttered, then she opened her eyes and stared at him. Her eyes were the most unusual green he’d ever seen, somewhere between the lush green of the Colorado mountainside in spring and the dark, rich color of emeralds. And they were as bewitching as an animal’s eyes in total darkness.

Again, he felt a deep connection, although a wariness flickered in her pain-filled expression, and he realized she had heard Cohen’s accusations. Her skeptical gaze tore at him.

Hell, he didn’t care. He was what he was, and he wouldn’t change for anybody.

Katie clutched the sketchpad to her side with one hand and slid her other one around his own. “No, Mr. Bwack, he saves us. And the birds…they brings him to me.”

Brack frowned. Did she have some kind of sixth sense when it came to animals as he did?

Whatever the reason, her gesture of unquestioning trust tugged at emotions long buried in his chest.

Emotions he didn’t want to feel for her or her mother.

Emotions that whispered that maybe he didn’t really want to be alone. That as much as he’d hardened himself to thinking that he could live without a woman in his life, he was wrong.

That Sonya Silverstein might fill some part of his soul that had been lost a long time ago.

He immediately jerked his gaze from hers, his instincts warning him to walk away. He could not forget who he was. Could not get involved with Sonya and lose himself in the process.