He remained motionless, staring with apparent fascination. As she struggled, he laughed a horrible, grating rumble. And his eyesglowed. Pure gold. Just like the creature’s that held her. Then he peeled his lips back to reveal his teeth. The canines were crazy long, and sharp.
The hot breath lowered from her face to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Something warm and wet licked her skin, pushing the neck of her jacket and scrubs away.
She shuddered, clawing at the arm holding her as her mind slipped its gears and froze, numb with terror.
A deep, wet sniff, followed by piercing pain as her skin was penetrated.
Jessie’s mouth opened against flesh, and she made a grab with her teeth, pinching skin.
The hand barely flinched.
Her eyes rolled to the man standing before them. He pulled a long, skinny object from his jacket pocket.
A hypodermic needle.
Her life spun further into the realm of the surreal. The man stepped in close as the thing holding her chewed on her shoulder with obscene slurping sounds. He shoved the needle into her.
Then pushed the plunger.
What the hell did he just put into her? Her vision blurred, and as she fought to stay conscious, her limbs grew heavy.
Jessie’s world descended into blackness.
* * *
The last thirty minutes were the hardest.
The auction had been a long drive. Zach had left early in the morning to get there in time. It was a crappy way to spend his weekend—the sales themselves were stressful as hell, but a necessary evil. Saving horses was his passion, the thing that made his life worthwhile.
With his iTunes blasting away, Zach’s fingers tapped on the wheel. Now that he was on his way back home, his mind drifted. He had lots to think about. Like whether he should call Jessie Balais.
Whether, not when. Because Jessie Balais could do a lot better than a courier driver. She’d seemed interested at the hospital. It was entirely possible, however, that she’d changed her mind.
Not that he’d be a courier forever. He’d registered his delivery service. He needed to pay off the repairs to the old cube van before he launched his business properly. Taking a short-term contract with the courier made good financial sense.
Jessie no doubt made more in a week than he did in two months. It didn’t bother him, but it might bother her. It was good to think about those things before venturing boldly forth.
He turned up the drive to the farm. His headlights reflected off the trees on each side of the dirt road. Eighty acres was small by Manitoba standards, but it was home.
Zach stopped in front of the corrals, then put the rig into reverse. He craned his neck and squinted into the truck mirror. He’d been maneuvering trailers since he was tall enough to reach the pedals. Expertly correcting the wheels, he backed the livestock trailer the last few feet to the fence panels. The yard’s overhead floodlights barely lit his path.
He’d anticipated getting home much earlier. Two hours to get loaded had to be a new record. If he’d been alone, it would have been done much faster. He’d had too much damned help. With horses, more people did not always make the job easier.
The ruckus from the trailer resumed the second Zach braked. His passenger had been largely quiet while in motion. Now she was determined to raise the dead.
As his British mother would say,Bloody hell.It was as close as she ever got to profanity and used only in extreme circumstances. Like when a cow stepped on her foot.
Zach deemed it suitable for hooves crashing into the sides of his trailer. Fortunately, it was sturdy steel, but her kicks vibrated through the entire rig. He slid from behind the driver’s seat. As he walked the trailer’s length, she squealed.
Memories ofJurassic Park’s velociraptor incident flashed through his brain. That had been a night scene too, come to think of it. And it hadn’t gone particularly well for the humans.
A large shaggy form emerged from the darkness, waving a plumed tail.
“Hey, Spike.” Zach bent to pet his dog. As a rescue, Spike’s past was obscure, as was his heritage. The best guess was a giant livestock guardian breed with a smattering of collie. Enough to give him a hellhound bark, sufficient size to keep the coyotes at bay, and a distinct sense of the appropriate order in which everything living should reside.
“Everything still in one piece, I take it?” Zach asked the dog, and Spike wagged his tail in response.
When hooves crashed again against the trailer’s side, Spike took a cautious step away.
