Out of the Night (7 page)

"Maybe their bodies were moved to a new location?"

He gave her a sympathetic look. "No, ma'am. We searched everywhere. I'm afraid your father's body isn't on the grounds."

She felt as if she'd been hit. "It doesn't make sense. A body doesn't just disappear."

"That's the hell of it, ma'am. It's like they just walked off."

His words sent a chill over her. The statue in the cage, the chupacabra, the wounds on the dead men's necks, their bodies drained of blood—the handprint. All those images flashed through her mind in a split second, leaving her with the horrifying thought that maybe her father's body had done exactly as the lieutenant so naively suggested.

She'd mentioned vampires earlier to Mac and now thought of them again. The similarity between the chupacabra and the vampire wasn't coincidental, but the exact nature of the connection escaped her. There had been something she'd read once, long ago; forgotten—until now.

She struggled to put it together. What if the chupacabra's attack on her father and the other man somehow turned
them
into vampires? And they, in turn, had killed those nine men? Her mind wrestled with the impossibility of it, but no logical explanation sprang forth to take its place. Then another, more horrifying thought hit her.

The chupacabra had also attacked Mac.

"Ma'am? Are you all right?" Lieutenant Davis's concerned tone barely pierced her awareness.

"I need to go." Lanie started walking down the hallway with hurried steps, not really caring if the lieutenant followed or not. All of her thoughts were focused on what she might find. The doctor had reported that Mac was doing better, she told herself.

She left the residence hallway and turned the corner. Sounds of activity elsewhere in the building were audible now, but she ignored them. By the time she reached the doorway to the medical lab, she was practically running. Not wanting to draw undue attention to herself, she stopped just shy of the door to catch her breath—and then lost it as soon as she walked into the room.

Expecting to see Mac on a stretcher, IVs running electrolytes into his still-weakened body, she instead found the gurney empty and Dr. Sanchez in deep, jovial conversation with another man who stood with his back to Lanie.

He was bared to the waist, and the pure masculine beauty of his back struck Lanie. Only a few angry red scratches marred the tanned skin. Around his neck was a white collar, which Lanie belatedly realized was a bandage.

She moved into the room, amazed. "Mac?"

The man turned, hissing under his breath as if the sudden movement hurt, and a look of confusion crossed his face. Lanie walked up to him, nodding to Dr. Sanchez, who smiled at her before crossing to the far side of the room where he sat at a small table and began writing.

Left alone with Mac, Lanie felt small and feminine before him. Up close, it was hard not to stare. He was barefoot and while he had on camo-patterned pants, they were fastened only partway, leaving an inviting "V" open at the top into which a dark trail of hair disappeared.

His abs, while not washboard, were nevertheless impressive, and rather than the rounded shoulders and sunken chest that one might find on a leaner man, Mac was all straight planes and muscle. His chest had a light covering of the same dark hair she'd spied beneath his navel, and there was nothing about his appearance to suggest he wasn't in the absolute peak of health, except for the scratches across his chest that mirrored the ones she'd seen on his back. Souvenirs from the chupacabra.

Thinking of the creature reminded her why she was there, though with the light of the afternoon sun streaming in through the windows and Mac up and about, Lanie's fears that he might be a vampire seemed suddenly absurd.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, studying his face carefully.

"Fine, uh, Lanie?" Mac's eyes grew round, and he leaned closer to her, studying her face.

His scrutiny made her feel self-conscious, so she scowled at him.

"Holy shit." He laughed. "It IS you. Damn, woman"—he raked his eyes slowly over her from head to toe and back again—"you clean up nice."

She wanted to return the compliment, but found herself too embarrassed to respond. "I can't believe you're up and around so soon. I mean, last night…"

She swallowed as the events from the night before came rushing back. "Thank you," she said softly, looking into his face. "You saved my life." Guilt hit her and she found it hard to hold his gaze, so she let hers fall to the floor. "I should have listened to you and never gone into that cage. If I had…"

"Yes, you should have," he said, his voice gruff. Then she felt the warmth of his finger as he placed it beneath her chin and tilted her head up until their gazes met. He gave her a small smile. "I understand you saved my life last night with that transfusion." The tone of his voice was softer, friendlier. "I'd say that makes us even."

As she stared into the dark depths of his eyes, the room fell away until there was only the two of them. At that moment, she felt closer to him than she had to anyone in a long time, and though she knew it was only momentary, she didn't care.

Mac felt like he was free-falling through darkened skies to an unfamiliar target. The falling didn't bother him, but he was terrified of the landing. He'd been surprised enough to wake up earlier that day to find he was still alive. He'd been further amazed, and bewildered, to discover that he was almost fully recovered. Not even Dr. Sanchez could explain the inhumanly fast healing and had taken up crossing himself every time he came near Mac.

When Sanchez told him that Lanie had killed the creature that attacked him, using his gun, then dragged him back to the lab and proceeded to save his life—he'd been astounded. But nothing could have shocked him more than learning that the
Cover Girl
model who'd just walked into the lab was actually the dowdy little librarian he'd flown down with.

He wouldn't have thought it possible for the woman to clean up so well—but damn, she looked good. Her light brown hair cascaded down about her shoulders in rich, thick waves. It glowed with a healthy sheen that wouldn't have been possible if she colored it. A fitted shirt and well-worn pair of jeans hugged her body, showing off her figure to advantage. Mac was pleased to note that while she was not overweight, neither was she too thin, as so many women tried to be these days. If she wore makeup, it was with subtle application that left one wondering if she really wore any or naturally looked that spectacular. And her eyes, he noted, no longer hidden behind thick glasses, were the color of stonewashed denim.

Oh, yeah, Ms. Lanie Weber was definitely hot, and from her embarrassed blushes and the Utile looks she sneaked at him, he knew the attraction was mutual.

If they'd been anywhere else, under different circumstances, he'd be tempted to see where this mutual attraction might lead, but this was Taribu and her father was dead, as were Burton and nine other men. He had enough problems to contend with; he couldn't let her distract him from what was important.

Realizing that his finger was still under her chin, he dropped his hand and took a step back, needing to put space between them. He turned to the gurney and picked up the shirt Sanchez had brought him. Though he felt her watching him, he didn't look up.

He tucked the tail down the front of his pants and heard Lanie's quick intake of breath. He looked up to see her turning around, belatedly giving him privacy, her cheeks burning a bright pink. Despite his earlier resolve, he gave a silent laugh at her reaction. She could fend off a savage beast without batting an eye, but Mac tucking in his shirt unsettled her. For someone who'd almost died the night before, he was feeling in surprisingly good spirits.

The sound of footsteps had him turning toward the door in time to see a familiar blond, GI Joe-looking man in his mid-thirties walk into the lab.

"Doc, how's our boy doing?"

"By all rights, he should be dead," Sanchez responded from his desk. "But I think he's going to live."

"Damn right he's going to live. It'll take more than some wild creature ripping out his throat to bring
this
guy down."

"Dirk Adams," Mac said, shaking hands with his old friend. "Don't tell me they put
you
in charge. What's the world coming to?"

It'd been a year since Mac had last seen Dirk. They'd first met in boot camp, and Mac had a healthy respect for the man who'd served as a member of his SEAL team a year ago.

"I was looking for an excuse to get here after I heard about Burton's death," Dirk admitted. "When the admiral told me there'd been an accident and he needed a team, I jumped at the chance."

Dirk glanced to the side and Mac remembered his manners.

"Dirk, I'd like to introduce you to Lanie Weber. Lanie, this is Captain Dirk Adams."

Dirk turned to Lanie, and the obvious appreciation and interest in his expression irritated Mac.

"Ms. Weber, a pleasure. I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to meet you earlier." Dirk shook her hand, and Mac felt that he held it a little longer than necessary. Of further annoyance was that Lanie didn't seem to mind. She gave the captain a smile that would have turned any man's head. Mac was beginning to feel like a voyeur, so he cleared his throat and asked, "How's the cleanup going?"

Dirk released Lanie's hand and was suddenly all business. "We're no closer to having any answers," he admitted. "We think the animal that attacked you is the same one that attacked the men—the neck wounds and blood loss are similar. Unfortunately, we can't find the animal Ms. Weber shot. It may have crawled out into the jungle to die. Now that you're both up and about, I was hoping you could tell me exactly what we're looking for."

Mac gave a rueful laugh. "All I remember are sharp claws and teeth. Sorry." The details of the attack were fuzzy to him, so he turned to Lanie, hoping she could fill in the blanks.

She hesitated, and Mac wondered if the memories were too painful for her. She glanced quickly at Dr. Sanchez as he crossed the room to join mem. "It suddenly appeared—out of nowhere. You pushed me aside and it attacked you. I think shining the searchlight in its eyes is what caused it to release you. After that, I only remember firing the gun until it was empty. I thought I killed it and locked it in the cage, but my concern was getting you into the lab, so I didn't take the time to check on it."

"Well, it's not there now," Dirk said. "We looked."

Mac watched Lanie closely. He couldn't help feeling that there was something more she'd left out, or didn't want to share. About to press her on it, Dirk suddenly put his hand to his ear. They all stood silently while Dirk listened. "Roger, on my way."

"Well," he said, addressing their group. "They found the security tape from the night of the attack." He met Mac's eyes. "Want to check it out?"

Mac nodded. If the attack had been recorded, then seeing the tape could answer a lot of questions—namely, who or what killed those men. After Dirk started for the door, Mac felt a light pressure on his arm and saw Lanie's hand there.

"I need to talk to you." She glanced at the other men, now a short distance ahead of them. "In private."