Viper (3 page)

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Authors: Patricia A. Rasey

BOOK: Viper
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This time of the year, they lost daylight quickly. And with the promise of oncoming rain, they’d be under pressure to get as much collected as they could before the predicted heavy downpour washed away any evidence. Cara jogged back inside, grabbed a large tarp and some metal poles as an afterthought, then headed back for the Dodge Charger.

Fifteen minutes later, she spotted Hernandez’ dark blue Toyota Camry pulled along the berm of the road. His hip leaning against the fender, Joe crossed his arms over his stocky chest and glared at her. Gravel crunched beneath her tires as Cara pulled up behind him. She exited her car and Joe pushed off the vehicle to meet her halfway.
Yep, he didn’t look too happy.
She smiled, despite his mood.

“Just because you don’t have a life, Brahnam, doesn’t mean you have to look happy about interrupting mine.”

Cara walked around the car and popped the trunk, handing him the spotlights and tripods. “Wow, look at that hair. Didn’t have time to comb it? Looks to me like you just crawled out of bed, Hernandez.”

He raked his free hand through the unruly dark curls, his dark brown eyes turning up in humor. “That’s precisely what I did. Jealous?”

She laughed. As partners, they made a good fit. “Not in the least. I need a man who can last longer than two minutes in the sack.”

“You’re too damn picky, Brahnam. That’s why you don’t have a man to bed.”

Placing a hand over her heart, she said, “You wound me, Hernandez. Now, let’s get to work.”

A black and white pulled up behind her Charger, the LED lights flashing brightly. They were losing daylight quickly. The two deputies she asked for exited the vehicle. With the pending storm working against them, they'd need to hurry. Cool humid air lifted the curls from her neck that had escaped her ponytail. She brushed the loose strands from her face as she told the uniforms to grab the kits and follow them to the posted hiker path through the forest.

The four of them slid down the deep ditch and climbed up the other side, mindful of where they stepped. A small path led deeper into the woods, exactly as the caller described it. Ducking beneath the cover of trees, Cara flipped on her light and followed the trail. She shined the light on the ground, catching several other footprints in the moist earth. They’d have to pour casts of every print, though it wouldn’t likely help. The path was too well traveled to give them anything exclusive. The four of them carefully made their way just to the side of the trail, making sure not to add to the footprints already there.

About three-hundred-or-so-feet in, Cara came to a stop. Her heart sank. The caller hadn’t been bluffing. A small mound of disturbed, fresh dirt lay before them. The head and upper torso were visible in the flashlight, appearing as though someone might have begun digging up the corpse. The victim had the same pale blonde hair as the last two victims, along with her neck being slit nearly from ear to ear. If Cara were of the betting sort, she’d wager that this one had been drained of most of her blood as well and they'd find squat for evidence.

"Another blonde," Joe said, looking at Cara. "You might want to consider dying your hair, Brahnam."

Cara didn't so much as crack a smile, although she knew it had been Joe's attempt at a joke. Lane County had a population of 330,000-plus people, but Pleasant only had a mere 3,600 residents, severely limiting the killer's targets if he continued to hunt in Pleasant for victims. The last two victims had been citizens of the small town. Cara bet this one wouldn't be different.

She tucked an errant curl behind her ear. "Hopefully this piece of shit moves on or he'll run out of women to choose from in Pleasant."

"Well, like I said—"

"Not funny, Joe."

He shook his head as he hunkered down to the shallow grave. The deputies went about setting up battery-powered lights to shine on the victim as a loud crack of lightning flashed across the darkened sky. "Maybe not, but I'd still consider the color change."

"How about we get off me as the subject. We need to hurry it along by the sound of the approaching storm." She looked at the younger deputy. "One of you call the ME?"

"Reeves already did," the smaller of the two deputies replied. "Said the doctor was coming himself. The ME also said to tell you not to disturb a thing until he got here."

"Of course he did." Cara looked above them at the small clearing in the trees, the sky growing darker by the minute. "Then he best hurry or we're not going to have a damn thing to find here."

Just as the words left Cara's lips, and to her own dumb luck, big fat drops fell upon her upturned face. "Son of a bitch," she muttered. "Get the tarp and quick."

Before they had the tarp fully in place, the sky let loose and rain poured into the valley. The deputies quickly finished setting up what little ground cover they could manage and then began to cordon off the scene with yellow crime scene tape. The tarp provided little shelter as water began running down the slopes and washing away some of the dirt and mud from their victim. Cara's hair plastered to her cheeks and water dripped from the tip of her nose.

She looked at Joe. "It couldn't be our luck that this would be just a quick shower, could it?"

"Watch the news, Brahnam? This is supposed to be an all-nighter."

"Shit," she grumbled just as she saw flashlights approaching from the road. The ME and his crew had arrived. "Looks like we're fucked."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

Kane washed the dirt from his hands using a brush to scrub beneath his nails. Mud swirled down the chipped, white ceramic sink to the drains. The last thing he needed was the law stopping by, and he had no doubt they would, and rapidly detect he had been recently digging. What the hell had he been thinking? Kane knew better than to mess with evidence. As much as he hated to admit it, Kaleb had been correct. They didn't need to borrow trouble from the law. And as president of the Sons, he should be looking out for them first and foremost, not worrying if the choice of victims again matched his preferred donor type. But his instincts had proved dead on. Someone wanted to make him sweat and was doing a damn good job at it. 

That someone put a large target on his back.

This latest drainage had his name written all over it. Once the Sheriff’s Office ID'd the vic, they'd be able to tie her to him. It's not like he’d kept their relationship a secret the last few years. Kane had never been one to lay low when it came to women. He hadn't been exclusive to Tab, not when it came to fucking. But she had been his only donor.

And she certainly didn't deserve to be bled dry because of her association to him.

He breathed out a heavy sigh as he held out his freshly cleaned hands before him. His flesh had begun to take on a translucent appearance and his body had a death chill to it. Damn it, losing Tab was going to present an immediate problem … he'd need to find a new donor and soon. His kind couldn’t go long periods of time without nourishment.

The door to the clubhouse restroom swung open, startling him. He had been so wrapped in his thoughts he hadn't detected one of his brothers had been within the same breadth. The fact that he had let his guard down, further aggravated him. Being in the MC, you needed to be aware of your surroundings and keep up your guard at all times. Anything else could get you killed. He threw the dirty nail brush into the sink with a clatter and faced his MC brother, Grayson Gabor.

"Don't you seem in a mood?" Grayson said with a smirk, his bright blue eyes twinkling with humor.

Kane unleashed on him, taking his anger out on someone who probably didn't deserve it. "You forgot how to fucking knock, Gypsy?"

Grayson grinned, not fazed in the least by Kane's outburst. But then again, very little rattled the man. "You afraid I'm going to see that small dick of yours, Viper? Try locking the door."

"Fuck you, Gypsy. I'm not in the mood."

"Talked to Hawk, said you guys found another drainage." He clapped Kane on the shoulder. "Sorry to hear it was Tab."

Kane shrugged. "Tab didn't deserve me, let alone drained. I think whoever is doing this, Gypsy, is looking to take me down."

Grayson’s lips turned down. "That makes it club business. What do you want to do?"

"I say we find him and cut his head off."

"You won't get any argument from me," Kaleb said as he pushed his way past Grayson. "I say we fuck him up and ash the remains."

Kane grumbled as he shouldered past both of them. The bathroom was far too small to be holding a fucking meet-and-greet. "You guys ever think to give a man his privacy?"

Grayson followed him out, a deep chuckle bubbling up from his gut. "You just don't want—"

Kane whirled around on his heel, pointing a finger just inches shy from Grayson's nose. "My dick size is fine, Gypsy—I haven't had a complaint in that department. Not like you."

Grayson grabbed his crotch and gave it a quick tug. "The only complaint I get, Viper, is that it's too damn big."

Kaleb followed up the trio, slapping them both on the back of the head. "This ain't about the size of your dicks, boys. We need to find out who's trying to frame Viper and take them down. We need to call a church meeting. We have to get the word out on the streets—the Sons of Sangue are not happy with these recent bouts of dead bodies and we mean to retaliate. Put the fear of sangue in these fucks. We'll get answers. Someone out there knows something."

Kaleb thrived on this kind of action. So much so that he made stupid mistakes by not thinking things through. They needed a solid plan first, then action.

"I agree," Kane said. "But first I'll need to deal with the Sheriff’s Office. No doubt they'll be heading our way yet tonight. They'll likely want to question us again. For some screwed up reason, they either think we know something or that we are somehow involved. They find out this latest drainage is Tab will only solidify that. We need to find this fuck like yesterday."

"We can thank mother nature for the rain, dude. It's coming down in buckets out there." Kaleb chuckled, shaking his shaggy dark curls. Water droplets sprayed the well-worn, pine flooring. "At least there won't be much evidence left to show you were digging around. The only thing they'll have on you is your tie to Tab. They won't have squat on the club."

"We don't have squat either, dipshit." Kane’s reference hadn't fazed his twin a bit if Kaleb’s smile was an indicator. "Don't you two have something better to do, like hanging somewhere that isn't in my vicinity? I can't even hear myself think with you two so fucking close."

Grayson flopped on the nearest leather chair, kicking his booted feet on the scarred wooden center table. Linking his fingers behind his head, he smiled. "I'm all yours, Viper."

"Lucky me." Kane headed for the cupboard behind the bar. He pulled out a clear shot glass and a bottle of Jack and poured himself a shot of the amber liquid, then downed it. The alcohol warmed him much like ingesting blood would, but without the nutritional factors. His stomach growled and his gums ached. The last thing Kane needed was the law stopping by. He needed to be out trolling for some new blood.

"I figure the pigs will want to speak to all of us eventually, why not get it over with? Right, Hawk?" Grayson looked at Kane's twin who seemed distracted, no longer listening to the two of them.

Kaleb's gaze fell on Grayson. "Come again?"

"What's got you preoccupied?"

"I was just thinking about that hot little blonde detective, the one that questioned us last time. Oh that's right, Viper—you got her partner. What was his name? Hernandez, I think. You never got a look at Detective Brahnam." He whistled. "Maybe she'll come by tonight. Think she might be single?"

Kane glared at his brother, knowing full well who Detective Brahnam was. Kaleb's assessment was dead nuts. Just the thought of her had his groin tightening. "Stay the hell away from her, Hawk. The last thing we need is you chasing the law's skirts."

Kaleb chuckled, holding his palms up. "Whoa, not interested, bro. Not my type. Now you on the other hand … I was just thinking since Tab—"

"Don't even fucking finish it," Kane growled, clenching his jaw. Lord, he needed to feed. He had rarely gone three days without blood, and the fact he was nearing that timeline now, made his mood swing dark. Finding Tab dead meant he'd have to find communion the hard way. "I'm not your charity, Hawk. Besides, I'm not hard up enough to resort to fucking the law … literally."

Kaleb winked as he sat on the sofa across from Grayson. "Whatever you say, Viper."

Kane poured himself another shot and knocked it back. "She's a fucking cop, Hawk. Don't allow your dick to overrule your head."

Grayson turned his nose up and sniffed the air, as though inhaling a fresh-cut vein. "Bet she has some sweet ass blood."

"You too, Gypsy. Keep your fangs to yourself. Besides, you both know the rules: no one feeds on outsiders. You get a donor from the Rave."

The Blood 'n' Rave was started several years back in Florence by a vampire lifestyler, a term used for a wannabe, giving young impressionable kids and misfits of society a place to hang where they wouldn't be judged by their peers. Psychedelics and Ecstasy ran rampant along with neon colors, glow sticks, and industrial dance music. It was a diverse crowd that drew in the curious. The Blood 'n' Rave soon became the “it” place in Florence. It was easy for real vampires to hide among the lifestylers when so many of the hang-arounds dabbled in blood play. There were also those who knew the real thing existed among them. They began wearing tiny blood-filled vials on a leather cord or chain about their necks, signifying them as willing blood donors. A secret society of donors had been created, only the most trusted allowed in, giving vampires a safe anonymous way to feed.

"Yeah … and that gets fucking old, Viper. We haven't seen anything new at the Blood 'n' Rave in months. What if I want new? I'm not like you. I get bored easily."

"Then go fuck to your heart's content, Gypsy, just don't feed off them. Rules are rules."

"Fuck the rules."

Kane clenched his teeth. His tolerance was definitely wearing thin. "The rules aren't negotiable, nor to be blatantly disrespected. You want them changed, then bring it up at the next church meeting. Put it to a vote. Otherwise, you follow them without question or pay the consequences."

"Fuck you," Grayson grumbled as his boots hit the ground and he stood.

Kane knew the man walked a thin line of control. Grayson never was one to be boxed in by a strict set of rules. He marched to the beat of his own drum. If he felt like acting out, he did and worried about the aftereffect later. Where Kaleb could be irresponsible at times, he still stayed within the boundaries of the MC's rules. Some days, Grayson could be downright reckless and left the club mopping up after him, though no one could ever fault his loyalty. Gypsy was always the first one to back you in a fight and the last one left swinging.

Grayson let out a harrumph and headed for the back of the clubhouse about the time a knock came to the door, stilling all sound within. Even though Kane's instinct was to ignore the call, he knew it was best to get the confrontation over with … the sooner the better. He gave Grayson and Kaleb a look of warning, then headed for the door. He knew before opening it that the female detective stood on the other side. He could smell her and, hungry as he was, she smelled damn good. He had to fight to keep his canines from elongating.

The door swung soundlessly inward as he opened it to the caller. "Detective."

Kane saw the brief flash of anxiety in her eyes when her gaze collided with his before she quickly masked it. She squared her shoulders and tried to appear unfazed. It didn't work, his nostrils flared and he could smell fear on her.

"Kind of late for you to be out and about, isn't it?"

"Normally," she answered. "You going to invite me in?"

"That depends on what you want." Kane could think of all sorts of things he'd like her to reply, but he doubted they’d be of the same mind. "Dare I hope you came to party?"

Detective Brahnam rolled her eyes. "Come on, Mister Tepes. You and I both know we don't hang in the same circles, abide by the same rules."

His smile widened. "Touché. So what brings you to the skids, Detective?"

"Official business, I'm afraid." She held up a small note pad. "I have a few questions to ask you and your friends."

"Well, we wouldn't want to stand in the way of an investigation, now would we? Do come in." He stood back, holding the door for her. "Before you get any more soaked."

The detective stepped under the overhang and glanced back at her black Charger as her partner exited the passenger seat, flapping his phone shut as he jogged toward them. Of course she wouldn't have come on her own. Her, he could have easily tolerated; her partner would no doubt try his patience.

Detective Brahnam didn't wait for a second invitation once Detective Hernandez caught up. They both entered the clubhouse. Kane heard Grayson's growl, no doubt disapproving of her partner's presence as well. Kaleb never left his seat, nor did the smile leave his face. He certainly appeared to be the only one enjoying himself.

Kaleb sniffed the air. "Don't you just smell delicious."

Kane heard Detective Brahnam's slight intake of air, but she didn't allow Kaleb's comment to intimidate her. She walked over to him and nudged his crossed legs from the table until his booted feet thudded against the pine flooring. "Care to answer some questions?"

"I'm an open book." Kaleb chuckled, clearly amused. "Ask away."

"Where were you tonight?"

"I was here all night."

"Alone?"

Kaleb glanced at Kane. "No, the three of us haven't moved. We've been here all night, shooting pool and having a few beers." He turned his dark gaze back to her. "Why?"

"I have witnesses that say otherwise." She glanced at her notebook. "You and Kane were seen on your motorcycles out on North Fork Road earlier tonight. What were you two doing out that way?"

"We were enjoying the scenery."

Her facial expression told Kane she didn't believe Kaleb. Hell, he wouldn't have believed him either. "It's a pretty foggy night out there, and with the promise of rain I doubt your business had to do with sightseeing."

Kaleb laid his arms across the back of the sofa he sat on and crossed his booted feet back on the table. "Doesn't matter what you think, Detective. That's my statement." He used a finger to indicate what she should do. "Go ahead, write it down."

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