How on earth could that be?
Dylan brought her hand up to the nape of her neck, bewildered by what she was seeing. Her fingers ran over the smooth skin at the top of her spine, where she knew she bore a tiny crimson birthmark…exactly like the one she was looking at on the screen.
With a steady, cold gaze fixed on the mouth of the cave, Rio jabbed the button on the C-4 detonator. There was a quiet beep as the remote device engaged, barely a half-second pause before the plastic explosives packed into the rock went off. The blast was loud and deep, a tremor that rumbled like thunder in the surrounding night-dark forest. Thick yellow dust and pulverized sandstone shot out of the passageway, tapering off as the walls of the cave’s entry closed in, sealing the chamber and its secrets tight within.
Rio watched from the ground below, knowing that he should have been inside—would have been, if not for his own weakness and the intrusion by the female earlier that day.
It had taken a great deal of his strength to climb down from the mountain as dusk fell. Determination had carried him most of the way; self-directed rage had kept him focused and clearheaded as he took up his position below the cave and triggered the detonator.
As the smoke and debris dissipated on the breeze, Rio cocked his head. His acute hearing picked up movement in the woods. Not animal, but human—the brisk, two-legged stride of a hiker straggling alone past dark.
Rio’s fangs stretched at the thought of easy prey. His vision sharpened on instinct, his pupils narrowing as he pivoted his head to pan the area.
There—coming down a ridge just south of him. A lean human male with a camper’s pack slung onto his back tromped through the thicket, his short blond hair glowing like a beacon against the darkness. Rio watched the hiker casually skid and jog down a leafy incline to the trimmed path below. In another few minutes, he would be walking right past the very spot where Rio stood.
He was too depleted to hunt, but everything Breed in him was on full alert, ready and waiting for the chance to spring.
To feed, as he so desperately needed to do.
The human strode nearer, unaware of the predator watching him from the cover of the trees. He didn’t see the strike coming, not until Rio launched himself out of hiding in one great leap. The human screamed then—a sound of sheer terror. He flailed and struggled, all for nothing.
Rio worked quickly, throwing the young man to the ground and pinning him prone under the bulk of his large backpack. He bit down on the bared column of the human’s neck, and filled his mouth with the sudden, hot spill of fresh blood. The nourishment was immediate, sending renewed strength into muscle and bone and mind.
Rio drank what he needed from his Host and no more. A sweep of his tongue sealed the wound; a sweep of his hand over the human’s sweat-soaked brow erased all memory of the attack.
“Go,” he told him.
The man got up, and soon the flaxen head and bulky pack disappeared into the night.
Rio glanced up at the crescent moon overhead, feeling the hard pound of his pulse as his body absorbed the gift of the human’s blood.
He needed this strength, because his night’s hunting had only just begun.
Rio tipped his head back and dragged the night air through his teeth and fangs, deep into his lungs. His Breed senses sharpened, searching for the scent of his true quarry. She had been on this path hours ago, tearing out of the woods in fear. As well she should fear him. The flame-haired beauty had no idea of the secret she’d stumbled upon in that cave. Nor of the beast she’d roused in the process.
Rio’s mouth curved into a smile as he sifted through the olfactory stew of the woodland air, finally registering the scent he sought. He breathed in the trace, lingering fragrance of her. Her trail was hours-old and fading fast in the humid night wind, but Rio would know her anywhere.
He would find her.
No matter how far she’d run.
CHAPTER
Five
A s the topper to a day that had started out weird and gotten even weirder, Dylan probably shouldn’t have been surprised to find an e-mail from Coleman Hogg waiting for her when she fired up her computer after dinner that night in Prague. She’d submitted her story and a few pictures from the mountain cave once she’d arrived at the hotel around noon, not expecting to hear anything from her boss until she got home in a couple more days.
But he was interested in what she’d found on the mountain outside Jicín—so interested, in fact, he had taken it upon himself to hire a freelance photographer in Prague to go back with Dylan and get a few more shots for the piece.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Dylan grumbled as she scanned the message from her boss.