Inseparable

Inseparable Book 2, Chapter 6: Nosy Little Wench

Nash

I had quietly slipped away from the scene after putting in an anonymous call to the authorities about the mutilated body. I had been very careful not to leave any evidence of my presence on the trail or around the scene.

Back in my jeep, I downed a bottle of room-temperature water and pulled out my cell phone. A rather grumpy and sleepy sounding Josiah answered. “This had better be good.”

“It’s not good,” I snapped in reply. “There’s been another death. And man, I was right there, not even a quarter mile from the spot.”

“So, can you confirm? Is it just an out-of-control bear?”

I pictured the gruesome scene in my mind. “No man, I don’t think so. There is no bear sign coming in or out. It tore that kid apart in a matter of minutes, and it was long gone before I could get there.”

“S.hit,” Josiah swore softly on the other end. I heard a soft feminine voice in the background asking him what was the matter.

“I’m not sure that I’m the right man for this investigation, Josiah,” I said earnestly, leaning my head back against the headrest. “Whatever this thing is, it seems like it's faster, stronger, and a hell of a lot meaner than I am. It looked like someone had unleashed pure rage on that trail. The guy's head was ripped clean off the body.”

Josiah groaned. “There’s no way they will be able to keep this one out of the news.”

“No kidding.” I agreed. Even if they stuck with the bear story, a decapitation was just too juicy for the media to ignore.

“I don’t expect you to take this thing down,” Josiah said seriously. “I mean, you are a good fighter, Nash. One of the best, in fact. Hell, you’ve taken me down in hand-to-hand combat. But we’ve got no idea what exactly you are dealing with there. I just need you to keep gathering intel.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. How many more college kids were going to get ripped to shreds while I was “gathering intel” on this monster? “I’ll keep digging, Josiah.” I cut the call, but in my mind, I already knew that if I got eyes on the killer, I would have to take it down. No matter who, or what it was. I would protect Josiah and his shifter community as much as I could, but I couldn’t just leave this thing to continue to hunt innocent people.

Who knew when it would strike again? Previously, all the victims had been male, whether that because of preference or opportunity, who knew? But this time the victim was a woman.

What if, next time, it was Daphne?

I don’t know why that thought popped into my head. I had just met the girl, I didn’t even know her. She was just a pretty face passing through. But the thought came anyway, and with it a terrible scene played out in my mind, her beautiful body disemboweled and dismembered, her head rolling away from her body, lifeless, frightened blue eyes staring up at me, her expression forever frozen in confusion and terror.

The vision was so shocking that I felt sweat pop out along my forehead and upper lip. The urge to rush back to the Bleakley House and check on her was so overwhelming that my hand was already reaching for the ignition. It took a force of will to bring my hands back to the steering wheel and grip it tight.

Daphne was fine. She was safe inside my room. This thing, whatever it was, kept to the woods. It attacked near wild areas. It had not yet entered any building to find its victims. As long as Daphne stayed away from the forest, she would be just fine.

And besides, she wasn’t my responsibility. She wasn’t my anything. I couldn’t even really say she was my roommate, because I wasn’t even a student at the university.

I continued to prowl around the campus, but I knew that I wouldn’t find anything else. I couldn’t explain my certainty, but I felt positive that this demon was done for the night. The other attacks had been spaced out, but I noted the frequency was increasing. The first and second attacks were a month apart, then the third attack happened three weeks later. Now, it had only been two and a half weeks.

Why was it happening more frequently? Was the freak simply getting bolder? Was something aggravating him, fueling his rage? What could possibly be the motive for such senseless brutality?

I wasn’t an investigator. Gathering evidence wasn’t really my forte. My specialty was guarding and protecting, providing security…a building, a person, an object. Generally, I guarded against human threats. Although the humanity of certain aggressors was definitely questionable, I had never dealt with another species altogether.

Who was I supposed to protect now? The entire student body and faculty? The entire town that surrounded the campus?

Daphne.

Again her name and her sweet, guileless face popped into my mind.

What the hell?

Just as dawn started to break over the mountains to the east, I headed back to Bleakley House. It seemed simple and unassuming, just another moldy old house on a tree-lined street. I parked my jeep a good distance from the lot and approached on foot from the rear. I saw the yellow glow of a light from the window of my room.

It was early. Was Daphne already awake? Or had she fallen asleep with the light on?

I circled the house and climbed the back stairs, which were only supposed to be used as an emergency fire escape. However, they were quieter and more secure than approaching through the front of the house. I had already rigged the handle so that I could jimmy it open easily and silently from the outside. I stepped inside on the second story, at the opposite end of the hall from my room.

When I opened the door, I found Daphne sitting at her desk, still in her pajamas. They weren’t designed to be sexy. In fact, the dark blue set looked like the kind an old man would wear, with long sleeves and exaggerated lapels, and long silky pants down to her ankles. But she still looked like a goddess, with her long hair finally swaying loose down her slender back.

“You're awake,” I said, stating the obvious. “Good, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Why did this girl stir up so many feelings in my gut? Why did I have to fight the urge to sweep across the room and pull her out of that chair and into my arms? Why did the thought of anything bad happening to her make me feel physically ill? I forced myself to retreat to the bed, and let my head hang for a moment to try and clear that dizzying sensation.

I decided to tell her about the attack. I should have waited, let the police do their part, and then let her find out through the news or a safety bulletin, just like everyone else. But she needed to know now, she needed to know that it wasn’t safe for her to go out in the woods. She was the athletic type. I bet she used those trails around the town on a regular basis to take walks or maybe jog.

And then, I had to touch her. No, I didn’t want to touch her. I had to touch her. I couldn’t explain it, even to myself. I needed to feel her, even if it was for the briefest moment, and the most casual touch. I put my hand on her shoulder, like I was trying to reassure her. But really, I was reassuring myself… of what, and why, I had no idea.

What the hell was wrong with me? It was like I was possessed and obsessed, all at the same time. I kept my hand in a safe, neutral spot, but I could feel her warmth seeping through the silky sleeve of her pajamas, into my fingers. Her body seemed unnaturally hot, but maybe my hand was just unusually cold. I felt something else too, something I couldn’t put a word to. It was like pure liquid comfort, flowing from her body into mine.

To her credit, she didn’t flinch or move away, but maybe she should have. She was alone in a room with a strange man. She shouldn’t trust me. She shouldn’t trust anyone.

Hell, I didn’t even trust myself at that moment. I pulled my hand away and crossed the room again to put distance between us. I needed a shower. A long, cold shower.

This was a mistake. I should request a different room. But just the idea of some other man being in the same space with her, watching her sleep, breathing the same air made me feel angry and restless. It had to be me.

I just had to control myself. I pulled out my bag and unzipped it, pulling out clean clothes to put on after my shower. I stared down at the Bowie knife I kept hidden in the socks. The knife had been custom-made for me by a buddy who didn’t make it back from his second tour. Normally, I kept it on my body, but it was a little too large and conspicuous to wear around the campus.

Someone had been in the bag, and someone had touched the knife. I always placed it within the sheath with the blade facing right. It had been turned around, so that the whole leather case was facing left. Although anyone could have come into the unlocked room during my absence, I knew it had to be her.

Daphne had gone through my bag.

Nosy little wench. What could she have been looking for? Drugs? Money?

But I guessed she hadn’t dug all the way to the bottom of the bag to find the handgun that was wrapped up in an old hand towel, nor had she checked under the mattress to find the one that was taped under the bed. If she had, I doubted she would be sitting there as calmly as she was now. She was dutifully pouring over her books like a good little girl.

Only, she wasn’t as good as she seemed, if she had gone through my bag. I should be furious about the fact that her hands had been on my things, but I wasn’t. I was already imagining her hands on other things of mine.

I had to get out of that room, and fast.