Nature of the Beasts (18 page)

“One of the ranchers hurt?” she asked.

“Nah, just send him out. I’ll explain it later.” Mike released the talk button. “If I can.”

He stared at the man lying on the ground, indecision tugging at his gut. His job dictated he should try to save him. His wounded pride dictated he let him lie there. When the man rolled to his stomach and began to climb to all fours, Mike took a deep breath and began to slowly climb to his feet as well.

“Hold up,” Mike commanded weakly. “I’ve got an ambulance on the way. If you don’t stop moving around, you’re going to make the bleeding worse.”

He tried to push the man down, but the other man growled low in his throat like an animal. Mike took a cautious step back. He still felt weak, and the last thing he wanted to do was get into another fight with this guy. Was he high on something? He had to be. He should be in too much pain to be moving around like he was.

“I said—” Mike began.

The man on the ground moved his right hand forward. As he did, his body began to change. Mike took another step back as the man screamed in pain as his body slowly morphed into that of a wolf. Once fully turned, he took off into the mountains.

Mike took another step back and tripped over a fallen log. He landed hard on his backside. Pain laced up his spine, and he groaned in shock and frustration. What the hell had he just seen? Was he hallucinating? What the hell was going on?

He grabbed the walkie from his belt. “Lucy, forget what I asked you to do.”

“Why?” she asked. “What’s going on, Mike?”

“The hell if I know,” he grumbled, then released the Talk button.

“Mike,” Lucy called.

With a tired sigh, Mike pressed the button again and brought the mic to his lips. “Not now, Lucy. I’ve got to go catch a fucking wolf.”

“What?”

Mike put the walkie back in its holder and then climbed to his feet. His horse was still close by. The wolf or man or whatever the hell that thing was had been injured, so he should be able to catch up to it quickly. The real question was should he?

He wobbled slightly as he made his way to his horse. The ground below him began to spin in a circle. Bile rose to the back of his throat, and Mike groaned just before bending over and vomiting on the dry ground.

With his hands on his knees, he stared at his feet and wished he could just lie down for a while. Just a little while. That was all he needed.

His horse pushed his nose against his shoulder, and Mike slowly stood, using Sundance’s reins to keep himself steady. If he didn’t, he would fall over, and he doubted he’d be able to get back up again.

“Hey, Sundance,” he cooed in a rough voice as he gently patted the horse’s nose. “We need to get to Dastan’s ranch. I think I need help.”

On weak legs, he made his way to Sundance’s side and nudged his foot into the stirrup. It took him two tries to get on the horse’s back, but he finally made it. Weak and still half sick to his stomach, he nudged the horse in the general direction of Dastan’s ranch.

* * * *

Sarah rushed out to the barn and waved at Dmitry on the roof. He stood and stared down at her.

“Is something wrong?” Dmitry asked in concern.

“Dastan needs your help.”

She stood nervously watching as Dmitry passed his hammer to the ranch man next to him and climbed down the ladder. Dmitry and the hands were almost done with the barn, and it was beginning to look almost as good as new.

Dmitry put his palm at the small of her back and walked with her back to the house. “What’s going on?” he asked in a low voice so as not to arouse concern with the other men.

“We think the sheriff’s in trouble.” When Dmitry gave her a questioning look, she frowned and shook her head. “It’s a long story. But it might be a good idea to cancel the contractors today. I have a feeling things are going to get pretty crazy around here later.”

“That’s not good.”

“Is there somewhere you can send the hands to get them away from here? The last thing we need is for them to see anything.”

Dmitry sighed as he opened the front door and allowed her to precede him inside. “I have a feeling that’s something we may not be able to avoid.”

Sarah turned to face him. “That can’t happen.”

Dmitry gently gripped her upper arms. “If worse comes to worst, we cast a spell to erase their memories.”

“That’s unreliable.”

Dmitry sighed and dropped his hands. “What choice do we have?”

“Would it be so bad if they knew?”

“It’s never good when a mortal knows, Sarah. You know that.” He softly touched his finger to her chin. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll call the contractor and cancel everything for now. You go make us some coffee.”

She nodded and turned to make her way to the kitchen. She frowned toward the messy living room that no one had gotten to yet and waved her hand. Instantly the room returned to normal, at least as normal as possible. Dmitry’s sideways grin made her shrug. “I’m tired of looking at the mess.”

Dmitry snorted. “Just don’t get too crazy. We don’t want to raise suspicion with the hands.”

Sarah rolled her eyes as she headed for the kitchen and the fancy coffeemaker. Part of her wanted to rebel—to just wave her hand and have two cups of coffee ready to go. But she knew in this world, she needed to be more careful.

As quickly as possible, she made a pot of coffee and hit the Brew button. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked to see that Dmitry was still on the phone, then waved her hand, magically conjuring up a fresh cup of coffee while she waited on the pot to finish.

Had Dastan found the sheriff yet? What about Razeen? Thinking that the sheriff was dead didn’t feel right, but at the same time she could definitely tell that something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

She lifted her cup and sipped. The heat of the liquid singed her tongue, and she winced before setting the cup back down on the counter, giving it a few needed seconds to cool.

“All right,” Dmitry said as he strolled into the kitchen. “Everything is taken care of; now start talking. What happened?”

Sarah studied Dmitry, wondering how he could outwardly appear so calm. Deep down she knew he was just as tense as she was, though he didn’t show it. She wished she had such a well-established poker face.

“I saw the sheriff on the hill overlooking the house. When Dastan went to investigate, I realized that Mike’s image wasn’t real. It was residual.”

Dmitry frowned. “You saw his ghost?”

“I hope not, but no. What I think I saw was what sometimes happens when a human is attacked by a succubus.”

Dmitry nodded once and moved to the island. “You’re talking about a projected image as the soul leaves the body.”

“Yes. You know about succubi?”

“Some. So we’re dealing with a succubus
and
Razeen?” Dmitry asked as he pulled one of the stools out and sat down.

“No. I think they’re one and the same. If Razeen killed a succubus at some point, he would have its ability to take souls in order to regenerate quickly. And if he was injured bad enough during the jump off the cliff, then he would need a soul.”

“How the hell did you make the jump to that conclusion?”

“I studied succubi with Keegan. When I saw Mike’s image waver, it reminded me of what we’d learned.”

The coffeepot beeped, indicating the brewing process was finished. Sarah grabbed a cup and filled it with the black liquid before handing it over to Dmitry.

“Thank you,” he said as he took a small sip. “Where did Dastan know to look for him?”

“We heard a gunshot, due east,” Sarah replied as she took her cup and leaned against the counter.

Dmitry frowned. “I didn’t hear anything.”

“It was very low.”

With a nod, Dmitry took another sip. “There’re several guys hammering up on the roof. I’m sure that covered it up. It’s a good thing the roof on the house wasn’t as damaged.”

Sarah nodded in agreement. Sadness tightened her chest, and she looked to Dmitry with worry. “What if he finds the sheriff dead?”

“It’s unlikely he would be alive. In your studies, did you ever hear of any humans surviving?”

“A few, I believe. But with half a soul or less, it’s unlikely he would ever be the same.”

Dmitry reached across the island and covered her hand with his. She turned her palm, entwining her fingers with Dmitry’s. It didn’t feel as though the sheriff was dead, but even if he’d somehow survived the attack, what could they do for him?

* * * *

Dastan worked his way toward the area he thought the gunshot had come from. Using his honed sense of smell, Dastan zeroed in on the smell of a horse. He followed it, his paws hitting the dry ground, pushing him faster across the fields.

He knew the light of day was not the right time to be doing this, but he could cover more ground this way. Get to where he needed to go much quicker.

It didn’t take him long to track down the horse. Dastan came to a halt. His paws continued to slide across the ground a few more inches, and he dug in harder, forcing himself to stop. In the distance, he saw the horse.

Mike sat on the back of it but barely. He wobbled from side to side like a man drunk. Dastan changed to human form and jogged to meet the horse.

“Mike,” he called, then louder as he got closer, “Mike.”

Mike’s head bobbed slightly. He made eye contact with Dastan, but his eyes were glassy and distant. He doubted Mike even knew what he was looking at.

Dastan reached out and grabbed the horse’s neck, then took the reins from Mike’s limp hands.

“Dastan?” Mike murmured.

“Yeah. You okay?” he asked, even though he could tell by looking at him that he wasn’t.

Mike frowned, then nodded. “I, uh, I feel like I’ve had way too much to drink.”

Dastan snorted. “I’ll bet. What happened?”

Mike turned his frown toward Dastan. “I think…I was attacked, but by what I haven’t the damnedest idea.”

Dastan didn’t pressure him, but he did feel a bit of relief to notice that although Mike looked pale, he at least seemed to be coherent.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” Mike asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Mike gave a nod. “Yep. I suppose you could.”

When Mike didn’t say anything more, Dastan twitched his lips in amusement.

“Do you mind if we head back to your place?” Mike asked. “I need to sit on something other than a weaving horse.”

Dastan grinned. It wasn’t the horse that was weaving.

“Yeah. We’re not far, but I think you should tell me what the hell happened.” Dastan began to lead the horse toward the house, all the while watching the area around him for any sign of Razeen. “I heard the gunshot. That’s what got me out here. I thought that maybe you were someone hunting out of season.”

When Mike didn’t say anything, Dastan glanced at him over his shoulder. The sheriff was staring off into space, a confused look on his face. “Mike,” Dastan said firmly.

Mike slowly turned his gaze toward Dastan. “Have you ever seen something you couldn’t explain?”

“Every day of my life.”

“Well, not me.”

“Tell me about it,” Dastan coaxed, hoping Mike would tell him how he’d gotten away.

“Something I thought was a man attacked me, but now…now I’m not sure.”

Dastan pursed his lips before asking. “If not a human, then what was it?”

“A wolf…a demon, if there is such a thing.”

Yep, there was such a thing as demons, but he doubted Mike would want to hear that right now.

“How did you get away?” Dastan asked.

“I shot him.”

Dastan peered back at Mike and couldn’t help but notice the blank, empty look in his eyes. Razeen had gotten at least part of Mike’s soul. The question was, what did they do now? How did they help him? Could they even help him?

This was out of Dastan’s realm of expertise. He didn’t know anything about succubi. Hell, he’d never even met one. They tended to keep to themselves, mostly traveling the human side of the dimension.

Damn Razeen! How the hell had he trapped a succubus in the first place?

The house appeared up ahead, and Dastan quickened his pace. Maybe Sarah would know what to do for Mike.

Sarah spotted Dastan out the kitchen window and rushed to the door. “They’re back.”

Dmitry gently pushed her aside and opened the door. Mike leaned heavily on Dastan as they made their way into the kitchen.

“He survived?” Sarah asked as she stared in awe at the sheriff.

Mike dropped into one of the kitchen chairs with a tired groan. He looked like hell. His hair was a mess from what looked like running his fingers through it. Whiskers covered his cheeks, and pieces of grass and twigs clung to his clothes. It appeared as though he’d done more than a little rolling around on the ground.

“Get him something to drink, Sarah,” Dastan said.

“A beer would be great,” Mike murmured. “I need alcohol.”

Sarah snickered. “Not this early, Sheriff. How about water?”

Mike licked his dry lips. “Water’s good.”

Sarah poured him some cold water from the jug in the fridge, then handed it to him. He reached out with trembling fingers and took the glass. Sarah felt so bad for him. The attack must’ve really shaken him up. He glanced up at her, and she couldn’t stop the gasp from slipping past her lips. His eyes.

He began to turn away, but Sarah gripped his chin and forced him to turn back to her.

“I guess I look a mess, huh?” Mike said, his voice slurring slightly.

She let go of his chin and raised her gaze to Dastan. “His eyes aren’t brown anymore. They’re gold.”

Dastan frowned. “I noticed that too.”

“I have gold eyes?” Mike asked, only really appearing to be half interested. “Huh.”

She ushered Dastan into the living area. Dmitry remained behind, talking to Mike.

“Razeen got some of his life force or soul,” Sarah said.

“He seems almost drunk. Is he going to be okay?”

Sarah sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know. That will probably wear off. My guess is that most of it is shock. The weakness is from the loss of life force.”

“What happens when both of those wear off?”