Killer's Prey Read online

  Her circles were bringing her closer to the woods, and she decided to ride along the tree line, letting Daisy open up to a gallop on the long straightaway and level ground. Then they could head back in.

  She still wasn’t used to a full gallop and felt unsteady in her seat. Worse, her boots still had snow frozen on them, and her feet slipped the stirrups from time to time. She was just about to rein in Daisy and take a slow walk back to the barn when a figure jumped out right in front of them.

  Daisy reared. Nora slipped backward off the saddle. Her head hit hard and she saw stars just before everything went black.

  * * *

  A foul mood had settled over Jake as he stood over the dead cattle. “Damn!” he swore to Al.

  Al didn’t answer, but his expression was grim enough for both of them. Two cows put down because someone had baited a trap with poison, probably to catch wolves or coyotes, and somehow the cows had ingested some of it. Maybe from the meltwater. Regardless, they’d spent all that time searching to find the problem, and once they’d realized what had probably happened, there was no alternative.

  They’d wrapped the bait for now in a poncho, but were going to have to go right back out and clean it up, along with the dead cattle, which were now probably almost as toxic as the bait. If he was right, he knew that poison. It was supposed to be illegal except in authorized livestock collars, but some still used it anyway, and it could get into the water. Once there, his whole herd would be at risk. They’d moved the remainder to a different pasture, but now he had his whole ranch to protect. Hell, he had hundreds of square miles to protect.

  “I gotta call the sheriff,” Jake said. “Then we get a drum to put that poison in and we’re going to have to get those cows removed fast, before something moves in to eat them.”

  “Okay.”

  “Today.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  He was still moving in a black cloud of rage, wondering if his dogs had eaten any of that crap. They’d driven the rest of the herd away from the sick animals and were standing guard, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t eaten some of that bait. Hell, how could it not have tempted them?

  “Dammit!” he swore. “I’m gonna have someone’s hide over this.” But even as he railed, he figured it was going to be next to impossible to find out who had done it. Bait was a lot harder to follow than traps. It could have come from anywhere. Hell, it might not even have been bait, but some animal that had died after eating the poison two days away. He swore again, wishing the USDA had never allowed the return of the poisoned-filled collars for livestock. Killing coyotes wasn’t worth this price.

  It was a hellacious death. Just thinking about it made him grind his teeth. Hours of convulsions, vomiting, confusion... Oh, he wanted someone to pay.

  Leaving Al to keep watch over the carcasses so that no scavenger ate the poisoned flesh and carried it even farther, he mounted up to head back and make the call. He took the dogs with him to confine them to the barn until he could get the vet to check them.

  But every single thought of his ranch, his cattle and his dogs flew from his head as they rounded the barn and saw Daisy, saddled and riderless, standing outside the corral, reins on the ground.

  Those reins gave him a cold chill. All his horses were trained to stay put when the reins were dropped, but Daisy still showed a faint lather. She’d been ridden hard. Maybe had fled. And where was Nora?

  He slid out of his own saddle, shooed the dogs into the barn, where they started yapping about being confined, and went running into the house, shouting Nora’s name.

  Rosa answered from upstairs. “She was at the corral.”

  “How long ago?”

  Rosa shook her head. “Twenty minutes. Half hour?”

  “Did you see her saddle Daisy and ride out?”

  The way Rosa clapped her hand to her mouth told him all he needed to know.

  “Dammit, I told her not to go out!”

  Rosa dropped her hand, still looking pale. “Just to the corral, Jake. The girl isn’t a prisoner.”

  “No. But she’s missing and Daisy is outside. Call the sheriff. Now.”

  Rosa nodded and went to use the bedroom phone.

  “Emergency,” Jake shouted after her.

  He grabbed his belt and holster out of his office, and his shotgun out of the locked cabinet. Then he grabbed a flare gun and a couple of flares.

  Rosa had come back downstairs. “Jake?”

  He turned to her. “I’m going to hunt for Nora. Al is out keeping a watch on the cows. Somebody poisoned them.”

  Rosa gasped. “¡Madre de Dios!” She didn’t lapse often into Spanish, but she was upset now. “Yeah, boss.”

  “First Nora,” he said. “You watch and tell the sheriff which way I go, okay? Al can handle the poison problem until we find Nora.”

  Rosa nodded. “Nora first. Find her, Jake. Please.” He hated to leave Daisy saddled and lathered, but had no choice. He put her in the corral so she could keep moving without getting chilled.

  He set out, following the clear path of hoof prints in the snow.

  He prayed harder than he’d ever prayed in his life that he’d find her unhurt, that she had just taken a spill.

  Except Daisy wasn’t the kind of horse to run off when that happened. Something had scared her.

  Dread settled in his heart like icy lead.

  * * *

  “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

  Nora knew that voice. Terror filled her until she thought her heart would burst from the panic. She didn’t want to open her eyes, didn’t want to see that face again.

  She could feel that she was tied to something, her arms behind her, sitting on the cold ground. A tree trunk. God, all those self-defense lessons were useless now. She had to find away to get loose.

  “Your breathing changed,” her nemesis said. “I know you’re awake. How nice to see you again, Nora. How nice that you’re healthy again. It will make my job even more pleasant.”

  At that her eyes snapped open. “Your job?”

  “My avocation, really.” He was holding a large knife, and he ran the edge of it against his leather-covered thumb. “This takes skill, you know. I apparently wasn’t skilled enough the first time. And let me tell you right now, if you try to scream or raise your voice, I’m going to shove a rag so far down your throat you’ll have trouble breathing.”

  She gasped, feeling her head swim, trying to think of something, anything she could do. Thoughts raced frantically but settled nowhere. Panic ruled. Calm, she told herself. Find some calm. Panic wouldn’t help. But panic refused to listen.

  “It would be such a shame not to be able to hear your cries, but I guess it would be best to gag you anyway. I’d hate for someone to hear your screams.”

  She didn’t answer, but forced herself to stare into the face from her nightmares. He was oddly handsome for a man with so much evil and cruelty in his heart. He should have looked like a troll.

  She found her voice with difficulty. “You don’t need to do this. Let me go and I’ll tell the police it wasn’t you.”

  “Then they’ll just believe you’re trying to protect me again.” He shook his head. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

  He was enjoying the anticipation, she realized. Her stomach rolled sickeningly even as she tried to figure out how to keep him enjoying these moments before he started cutting her again. There had to be some way.

  Ego? She wasn’t sure she knew exactly what made him preen. He didn’t like defiance, so she squashed any thought of arguing. No, she had to find a better way.

  Her heart fluttered like a bird that desperately wanted to escape, and her thoughts still remained fractured, only fragments of sense making their way through the din of terror. Think!

  Finally she hesitantly spoke the only thing she could think of, hoping to sound out what would get to him.

  “You’re very strong.”

  That was it. She saw it on his face. Some
how that was the key. Now she had to figure out how to use it.

  * * *

  The circles Nora had made riding Daisy around were clear enough still that Jake barely had to follow them. Then she had ridden along the tree line. He followed her path, listening with every ounce of hearing he possessed. Right now there was nothing but the sound of the horse’s deep breath and snorts, the jingle of the harness. Not another sound.

  Then he found it, the spot where Nora had been thrown. Daisy’s footprints all of sudden became deeper, as if she had reared, and there was no mistaking the imprint of Nora’s body on the thin layer of snow, nor the broadening of Daisy’s stride as she suddenly turned back toward the corral.

  It had happened here. He looked into the woods and felt his heart sink. No snow to speak of under those trees, and frozen ground didn’t yield to feet. Tracking would be difficult, if not impossible.

  But he had to try.

  He dismounted and dropped the reins, knowing his mount would stay put unless frightened, and if frightened he wanted the gelding to get away.

  He pulled the shotgun from his holster and the flare gun from one saddlebag, stuffing it into one of his pockets. Into another he shoved a couple of handfuls of shells.

  In the distance Jake saw the first patrol vehicle arriving, lights flashing, no siren.

  Help was coming. The only question was whether they’d find Nora in time.

  * * *

  “Yes,” the beast said, “I’m very strong. And you’re going to make me even more powerful.”

  Nora felt a moment of confusion. What did he mean? It made no sense. “How do I do that?”

  “You give me strength with each of your cries. With your pain. With your death. If you had just died the first time, I would have had power beyond imagining.”

  Oh, God, she had fallen in with someone who was not only cruel and evil, but crazy, as well. She forced herself to drag in a couple of deep breaths. What had one of her professors said? The crazy aren’t illogical at all. Their logic is just based on a different reality.

  Well, this was one reality she couldn’t imagine, and fear wasn’t helping her clarity of thought. Or maybe the blow to her head had dazed her. Fighting against every desire to just give in to a primal scream of terror, she ransacked her memory, trying to find a clue. Gain strength from her suffering and death?

  She had heard or read that somewhere. Some kind of magical belief. Maybe even a ritual one in some cultures. But how exactly was it supposed to work?

  How did this guy think it worked?

  Not knowing, she finally just asked, her voice cracking. “How does that work?”

  He settled back a bit, still fingering the knife, as if deciding how much he wanted to say. How much he wanted to brag. She hoped he wanted to brag a whole lot.

  Behind the tree, she was working her wrists, seeking to free them from what felt like nylon rope. Her hands were growing numb from the cold. Soon they’d be useless.

  Time. She had to buy time.

  “Your essence,” he said, “combines with mine.”

  “My essence?”

  “Energy.” He said the word as if speaking to a child who couldn’t understand. “But mostly, the power of life and death I have over you enhances my strength. Soon no one will be able to stop me.”

  Her head had begun to pound, not helping her think at all. So somehow the power he held to kill her empowered him? The thinking was so foreign to her that she had trouble understanding how he could believe that. Then another thought popped out.

  “It makes you godlike.”

  He smiled. She didn’t like that smile at all. “Exactly.”

  Elaborate, she thought desperately. “Tell me more. I’d like to understand why this is happening to me.”

  “You don’t need to understand.”

  Panic speared her once again. Any moment... She had to delay him again. It felt as if the binding on one of her wrists was stretching. Time had become everything. Seconds, minutes, whatever she had left, she had to draw them out.

  “But...” She hesitated. “Maybe if I understand how this...strengthens you, you’ll get even stronger.”

  He almost froze, struck by the thought. “Stronger because you understand? I don’t...” He trailed off, then began fingering the knife again. “Perhaps,” he said finally.

  She pulled hard with one arm. Was the rope slipping farther down her hand? “Think of it as a ritual,” she said desperately. “Rituals make more energy because they have meaning. There’s meaning in my death only if I understand it.”

  He lowered his head a moment, studying the knife.

  She waited, holding her breath, tugging at her bonds. Let him bite. Please, God, let him believe me.

  * * *

  Jake was as close to losing his mind as he’d ever gotten. Terror for Nora filled him, and he struggled to keep it in check so he wouldn’t miss any important clues as he ventured into the woods. He prayed they were still here, that she hadn’t been carried away in a vehicle. He prayed he’d find her, because it suddenly seemed that without her life would be meaningless. Pointless. He didn’t even care about his herd anymore. All he cared about was Nora.

  The forest was quiet and it muffled sound, making it harder to hear if someone was around, but also covering his own movement. Blessing or curse, he didn’t know at that point.

  He could see where Nora had been dragged across the ground for a short distance by the disturbed needles and occasional leaves, but then the guy must have picked her up. The drag marks disappeared.

  So he looked higher, for bent and broken branches, for trampled undergrowth. The trail grew fainter, it seemed, but he kept looking, moving slowly when he wanted to run, because running would do absolutely no good. None.

  This creep, he thought, holding the shotgun, wasn’t going to get another chance to hurt anyone. Ever. Today was going to be his last day, if Jake had anything to say about it. The blackness filling his heart would have frightened him under other circumstances.

  But right now all he could feel in his heart were terror and rage. And murder.

  Then he heard it: a voice.

  * * *

  “A ritual would be good,” the beast said. He apparently liked the idea. “I should plan one.”

  “Yes,” Nora agreed. “From everything I’ve read, there has to be an order, a meaning. And to work it has to be done just right.” God, it was hard to squeeze out words when she was breathless with a galloping heart. She managed anyway and tugged harder at the bonds.

  If she could just get her hands free, get to her feet fast enough... The thought of being able to move faster than he could, fast enough to evade that knife, caused a wave of despair to wash over her. This was it. She could do nothing to prevent a rerun of the nightmare.

  But then she forced her spine to stiffen. No matter what, she would not go meekly. Meekness was, for now, keeping him in check, but when the time came he was going to get the fight of his life.

  Then she realized her hand was nearly free.

  * * *

  Making as little noise as possible, Jake moved toward the voice. A man, but he thought he could hear a woman, too. Nora.

  His step quickened, and he lifted the shotgun, already cocked, to the ready. God, he hoped she wouldn’t be in the way.

  He hoped she was still okay. He couldn’t bear the thought of another scar on her, another wound, or the pain it would cause her.

  Not now. Focus on getting the guy, whatever it took. Nothing else. Just get him.

  An eternity seemed to pass before he caught sight of them through the trees. She was seated at the base of a lodgepole pine, appeared to be tied up. The guy was sitting cross-legged on the ground, facing her, holding a wicked-looking hunting knife.

  Too close. He might catch Nora with the spray from his load. He edged around, trying to get a better angle, allowing himself a moment of relief when he saw that Nora had not yet been attacked. In fact, she was talking to the guy.


  God, she was brave.

  Then, in an instant, the entire picture changed.

  Nora leaped to her feet with amazing speed and jumped toward the man. The guy sitting on the ground tried to scramble up. Jake stepped out, yelling, “Nora, run!”

  Thank God, she reacted fast and switched directions on a dime.

  Langdon got to his feet just before Nora escaped the line of fire. Instinctively he turned toward Jake, and just as instinctively, Jake shot him, getting him in the chest.

  But that was not the end. It seldom was, despite the movies. The guy grinned and stepped toward him. “You can’t kill me.” He started coming toward Jake, knife ready. Jake shot again. The guy didn’t fall.

  Being a rancher and not on duty, he wasn’t carrying a riot gun, but a double barrel that needed reloading. His mind raced as he tried to decide whether to move in on the guy, or if he had time to reload.

  Then, astonishingly, Nora leaped into the fray, jumping at the guy from behind. She mounted his back, wrapping her arms tightly around his throat.

  He swung around wildly with the knife but couldn’t reach her. And now it didn’t matter if Jake could reload or not. He’d shoot Nora. No choice but to move in.

  And move in he did. He ran forward, keeping the knife in his peripheral vision, watching the guy’s eyes.

  Langdon might have thought he was invincible, but he was beginning to look panicked. Nora was not only strangling him, but she was also kicking the backs of his legs with her pointed-toe cowboy boots.

  Moving in on the side away from the knife, Jake managed to take a swing at the guy’s head. He was bleeding badly and couldn’t keep this up much longer. Or so Jake hoped.

  A shout of rage escaped Langdon, but it was followed by a gurgle. Jake pounded him again, this time right on the chest wound.

  The knife fell. A second later it was followed by Langdon as he collapsed to his knees.

  “Get off him,” Jake shouted, and shoved two more shells into his shotgun as fast as he could. Nora pushed away, but as she did so, Langdon fell face-first.

  “Stay away, Nora,” Jake ordered.

  She backed up.

  Walking over, Jake prodded the guy with the barrel of his gun, rolling him over. He could see the man’s gaze dimming at last.