Force of the Falcon. Rita Herron
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please call me Aaron. And it won’t hurt Katie to spend a night with Margaret.” He paused, giving her a concerned look. “It’s healthy for children and parents to spend time apart. You need, you deserve, to have a life. Even if it is to rest.”
“But—”
“You don’t want Katie to suffer from separation anxiety when she starts school, do you?”
The thought of Katie attending school, of facing the kids who might tease her, sent a shudder through her. Granted, she had enrolled Katie in a small preschool program, but that was different. Only three hours at a time, two days a week.
Besides, she didn’t need a parenting lecture right now. She would worry about separation anxiety when the time came. When Katie was ready.
When she was ready.
Not when some man ordered her to do so.
No, she’d never allow another male to make her decisions for her.
“Please, Aaron.” Sonya detested the wobble in her voice, but maybe at home she could stop having nightmares, feel safe, forget the trauma of the past night and day.
“All right, I’ll prepare the paperwork.” He moved closer, reached up and brushed his hand down her arm. “Just promise me you will rest, that if you need help with Katie, you’ll ask Margaret to watch her.”
“We’ll be fine,” Sonya said, willing strength into her voice. “I’ve been on my own with my daughter for four years, Aaron. I can manage.”
A flare of sexual interest sparked in his eyes. “You don’t have to do everything alone,” he said softly.
Sonya bit down on her lip. She wished she could reciprocate Aaron’s attentions, but anything more than friendship was impossible. She wasn’t ready for a personal entanglement with anyone.
Not Aaron or the mysterious falconer who’d saved her life. The one who’d heated her blood with his dark, brooding eyes and his gruff exterior.
She simply wanted to be at home where she and Katie could be together, safe, hidden away from the monsters in the woods.
And the ones who looked like men—the ones who could hurt her just the same.
A MURKY GRAY SKY hung heavy with clouds as Brack hiked through the dense woods. Winter echoed in the shrill sound of the wind whistling through the mountain of trees. Animals skittered and scurried, scrounging for food. A vulture soared above, obviously zeroing in on the carcass of a dead animal for his next meal.
Brack veered to the right, tracking its movements.
Normally, the forest offered him solace, a place to purge his physical energy and frustration with a run or hike. A place to find inner peace, the strength he needed to sustain his goals, to serve his only friends, the birds of prey, and live as God had intended him to—alone and free in the wild.
But turmoil tightened his every movement today, his senses honed for dissension in the animal kingdom.
Had something in the environment poisoned the animals? Maybe the smaller ones that the falcons preyed on? Were some of the birds sick, diseased, carrying an affliction that caused them to attack at random? Or was a human among them, ripping at their flesh and using them as an excuse for his vicious attacks?
The idea of mutants—half animal, half human—was another possibility he couldn’t ignore, although the idea seemed far-fetched. But the ghost legends and tales of the miners trapped below the city were infamous. And random deaths over the years created suspicions, and had never been explained. Like the death in the woods behind the old farmhouse Sonya had bought.
He hiked a few more feet, then paused near Vulture’s Point. His stomach churned when he spotted two juvenile hawks slaughtered near the west end of the ridge. The vulture had honed in on them for dinner.
He’d have to find food from another source tonight. Brack stooped, yanked on gloves, then gathered their remains into boxes he had brought with him in his pack.
He’d send them to the vet for analysis. The blizzard dwindled into a light snow as he trekked back toward Falcon Ridge, but the roaring wind continued to shake the trees and howl incessantly, biting at his cheeks.
A half hour later, he packed the boxes in the trunk of his SUV and drove down the mountain to the vet. Dr. Phil Priestly, the town veterinarian, studied the animals with dismay. The vet was in his midforties, intelligent and had done an internship at Cornell University at its Veterinary School of Medicine. He had also been attacked by violent wild dogs once and had a special interest in animal behavior. His assistant, a young guy named Elmsworth, watched him from the lab.
“I’ll look them over, take some samples and blood, and see what we can find.” He frowned and pulled at his chin. “You say the woman had talon marks on her back?”
“Yes. Thankfully her heavy coat offered some protection, but the attack was pretty vicious. My brother is calling a wildlife biologist and the EPA to help us look into this matter. If the water or vegetation is contaminated, it could affect other creatures in the forest.”
And eventually might trickle into the town’s water source and affect humans. A danger Brack didn’t want to face.
The vet nodded. “I’ll run full tox screens and let you know what I find.”
“Good. We need to solve this mystery ourselves before Cohen stirs up so much panic, the town goes on a wild bird hunt and destroys the wildlife.”
He thanked Priestly, then climbed into his SUV and cranked the engine. He wondered what the doctors had determined about Sonya, if they’d discovered anything on the blood or hair fibers on her skin.
He punched in the hospital’s number. It took a minute but the receptionist finally patched him through to Sonya’s doctor.
“It’s Brack Falcon, Doctor Waverman. I’m calling to check on Sonya Silverstein.”
“She’s fine. I’m preparing the paperwork for her release now.” He paused. “Although I wish she’d stay the night. She’s weak and needs rest, but she insists she wants to go home and be with her daughter.”
The mother bear protecting her cub.
“What did you find on those tests? Anything unusual?”
“I can’t discuss her medical records with you, Mr. Falcon.”
“I’m not asking about personal information. But if I’m going to find out what attacked her, I need to know if you discovered anything unusual. I’ll check with the CSI lab if I need to.”
Waverman muttered something beneath his breath. “There was something odd,” Waverman admitted in a low voice. “I haven’t told Sonya yet, but mixed with her blood, I found traces of another human’s blood. What’s even weirder, there were also traces of animal blood on her skin.”
Brack’s blood ran cold. “The blood of a bird?”
“That I don’t know yet. We’ll have to wait on more tests to verify the source.”
Damn, Cohen would have a fit.
An image of Sonya wounded and bleeding, lying in that snow the night before, flashed back, and Brack pressed the accelerator.
If Sonya’s attacker was part animal and part man, then they were dealing with a mutant creature of some sort.
But if it was human, the sicko might be afraid she would recognize him. Which meant that he might come after her again.
And she might still be in danger.
Chapter Six
The hint of danger tapped at Sonya’s nerves as the minutes ticked by. Alarm niggled at her at the thought of returning to her house. Even before the attack, the house had begun to creak and groan, the eerie sounds sending pinpoints of fear through