She wanted to kiss him. Let him make the terror go away.

He brushed his fingers along her cheek. Murmured her name. He wanted it, too. All she had to do was tilt her head, close her eyes, relinquish control.

But bitter words about her being imperfect echoed in her head. She couldn’t lose control again. Control was all she had. The only way to protect herself. The only way she’d survive.

She couldn’t risk getting hurt once more.

And this man had the power to do it, because he made her feel again. Made her want things that she’d learned long ago were impossible.

Force of the Falcon
Rita Herron

For my grandmother, who taught me to love stories…

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Award-winning author Rita Herron wrote her first book when she was twelve, but didn’t think real people grew up to be writers. Now she writes so she doesn’t have to get a real job. A former kindergarten teacher and workshop leader, she traded her storytelling for romance, and writes romantic comedies and romantic suspense. She lives in Georgia with her own romance hero and three kids. She loves to hear from readers, so please write her at P.O. Box 921225, Norcross, GA 30092-1225, or visit her Web site at www.ritaherron.com.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Brack Falcon—His only love was his falcons—until he met Sonya Silverstein and her little girl. Now he must protect them or die trying….

Sonya Silverstein—When a twisted psycho tries to kill her, she must put her life in the hands of Brack Falcon. But can she trust him with her heart?

Katie Silverstein—She may be physically handicapped, but will her sixth sense help her survive a killer?

Stan Silverstein—Sonya’s ex blames her for their daughter’s physical handicap. But what is he hiding?

Sheriff Cohen—He railroaded Brack’s father into jail twenty years ago for a crime he didn’t commit. Is he going to do the same thing to Brack?

The Talon Terror—This villain kills women and animals with his birdlike talons. Is he animal, man or both?

Jameson Viago—The artist who draws the cartoon character The Talon Terror. Is he imitating the character in real life to boost his comic-book sales?

Emerson Godfrey—An expert from the government who is researching diseased animals. Is he going to destroy Brack’s beloved falcons?

Darrien Tripp—A reporter for an occult magazine called The Tween Zone. Has he really seen supernatural creatures?

Dr. Aaron Waverman—He wants Sonya for himself. How far will he go to win her?

Dr. Phil Priestly—The local veterinarian tends to birds of prey and has been attacked himself. Has his work with animals turned him into one?

Jerry Elmsworth—Katie doesn’t like Jerry, the veterinarian’s assistant. Is she right when she senses that he is untrustworthy?

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Chapter One

“Mommy, save me!” The childlike cry whispered through the eaves of the old farmhouse and echoed off the walls, terrifying and insistent.

Sonya Silverstein jerked awake and sat up, a shiver rippling through her as if the icy fingers of a ghost had touched her neck.

Had Katie cried out for help?

She clutched the sheets and listened for her daughter’s voice, for the sound of her small crutches clacking on the wooden floor, but an eerie silence seeped through the cold, dark room instead, and fear gripped her.

Something was wrong. Sonya felt it deep in her bones.

Her heart pounding, she slid from the bed, pushed open the bedroom door and searched the murky gray den for her little girl.

The dying embers of the fire they’d had going earlier glowed. A wild animal howled in the distance. A tree limb scraped the ice-crusted glass, and the shutter flapped against the weathered boards encasing the window.

Wind, vicious and blustery, tore through the dark room, hurling dead leaves across the plank flooring through the open door. Her breath caught.

She had locked the door when she’d gone to bed.

Had an intruder broken in while she’d been sleeping?

Panic seized her. Dear God, Katie had to be there. She had to be all right. Katie was everything to her. She was all that mattered.

She’d moved here to Tin City to raise Katie, to give her a safe life. To take solace in the small mountain town and heal from the pain her ex-husband had caused them.

But the house she’d rented was practically in the wilderness. What if Katie had gone outside hunting for the kitty? Or what if a madman had broken in and kidnapped her?

The door to her little girl’s room was cracked open, and she pushed it, praying she’d find Katie snuggled in bed with Mr. Buttons, her favorite teddy, and their kitten, Snowball. But Mr. Buttons lay on the floor, and she didn’t see the baby cat. The covers were tousled, and the bed was empty.

“Katie!” She searched beneath the bed, then yanked open the closet. But Katie wasn’t inside. Frantic, she screamed her name again and checked the bathroom. Katie’s Hello Kitty cup. Her damp toothbrush. Her fluffy bedroom slippers.

But no Katie!

Sonya whirled around, scanning the room for Katie’s small crutches.

They were gone.

Terror streaked through Sonya as she ran back into the den and grabbed her coat, her hat and a flashlight, then jammed on her snow boots and darted outside.

The bitterly cold Colorado wind clawed at her face as she searched the porch, then the snowpacked ground below, for her daughter or her footprints.

Snow whirled in a blinding haze, covering any tracks that might have lingered. A sob welled in Sonya’s throat as she scanned the thick, snowcapped woods surrounding the farmhouse. The rigid cliffs and peaks climbed toward the heavens like stone boulders. While she’d thought they’d offer a perfect place for her to hide, a sanctuary, now they looked ominous, threatening.

Katie was out there somewhere all alone. No telling what dangers lay waiting in the dense patches of firs and aspens. Katie was so small. She’d never survive the elements or be able to fight off an attacker.

“Katie!” A scream tore from deep in her throat, but got lost in the howling wind.

“Save me, Mommy!”

The whisper of her daughter’s plea reverberated through the chilling tension. Whether Katie had cried out for real or not, Sonya didn’t know. But she heard her daughter’s silent plea for help anyway.

She ran into the woods, blindly searching. She had to find her. She couldn’t lose Kate. Not now.

Not ever.

FRESH BLOOD dotted the powdery white snow, the scent of death floating in the whistling wind of the forest surrounding Falcon Ridge. Brack Falcon knotted his hands around the flashlight as rage rippled through him. A loud screeching sound had awakened him and brought him outside. And now, out here, he’d heard it again and found fresh blood. He hadn’t yet found the source of the blood this time, but he instinctively recognized the pattern.

Another one of the precious creatures of the forest had been attacked. He had discovered several dead birds of prey already this week. Most had been viciously slaughtered and mauled, their talons ripped off, their blood drained as if some creature had virtually sucked the life from them.

What kind of animal would do such a thing? Or could it be a man?

Stories of the ghosts and legends that thrived in Tin City haunted him. The dead that lingered. Miners trapped below the town, screeching in terror, haunting the very place where they’d died—the underground tunnels and caves that had been built as escape routes back in the 1800s.

And now a revival of the tales of wild animals that attacked without provocation. Stories of hybrid and mutant creatures, half human, half animal. With the bizarre attacks on the falcons this week, the fables had risen from the depths of the past, creating panic and hysteria.

All the more reason for the citizens to once again look at the Falcon men with suspicion.

Brack followed the blood-dotted snow, trekking farther into the bowels of the towering aspens and fir trees. The bitterness he’d lived with since he was six years old and his father had been falsely accused of murder ate at his insides. Granted, he and his two brothers, Rex and Deke, had finally helped exonerate his father, and his parents were now reunited, but twenty years of hating the people in the town who’d shunned the boys and their mother had stolen a part of Brack’s soul.

A part that was lost forever.

And now his brothers were back at Falcon Ridge, and had decided to settle in Tin City and relocate their private detective agency to Colorado, back at the old homestead. They’d built offices in the basement and had installed high-tech security and state of the art computer systems. Deke and his new wife, Elsie, had bought one of the historical houses in town and were renovating it, while Rex and his wife, Hailey, had built a beautiful Victorian on her parents’ property.

Brack had moved in to Falcon Ridge. Alone.

But the cries, anger and pain from his childhood still echoed in the stone structure as if twenty years had never passed, as if he were that little boy again watching his father being dragged away to jail.

He’d listened to his mother’s sobs at night, had seen the anger and helplessness in his brothers, and he’d virtually shut down. Had learned to suppress any emotion.

Never get close to anyone and you’ll never hurt like that again.

And he hadn’t.

Instead, he’d pulled away from people and befriended the birds. And over the years, he’d honed his natural instincts with the falcons, instincts he’d inherited from his father and his grandfather before that, until he had such a deep connection with the animals of the forest that they communicated in their own silent language.

The crackle of twigs being severed in the wind jarred him from his reverie. A branch snapped off, and layers of snow and ice pelted him. Above, he heard the flapping of a falcon’s wingspan stirring the frigid air, then the faint, heartwrenching cry of a bird in pain.

He picked up his pace, knowing it was too late to save the creature, but hating for it to die alone. Seconds later, fury welled inside him as he studied the mauled remains. Its body had been ripped apart as if killed by one of its own kind. Blood streaked the muddy white ground. Feathers were scattered across crimson patches of ice, and the eagle’s head lay against a stone.

Dammit. The head had been severed.

Rage shot through him, primal and raw, all-consuming.

When he found what or who was doing this, he’d kill it.

Then another cry of terror floated from the distance. It was so faint he had to strain to hear it.

This cry was human.

A chill shot through him, and he took off running.

AN ODD SCREECH rippled through the air, sending a chill through Sonya. What kind of animal made a sound like that? Nothing she’d ever heard before.

The wind was so strong she had to fight to keep from being knocked against the trees. The snow was almost ankle-deep on her—what would it be like for Katie?

Each footstep she took intensified her fears. Katie must be freezing. Terrified. What if she’d fallen and gotten hurt? What if she slipped off one of the ridges? What if a man had her, and he hadn’t brought her into the forest?

No, Katie had to be out here. Sonya hadn’t heard a car engine. She grabbed a vine and pulled herself along, shining the flashlight across the snowpacked ground, pushing through bramble and broken limbs. The white haze of swirling snow blurred her vision, and she swiped at her eyes, willing them to focus.

Up above, she saw a faint flash. The color red.

Katie’s red pajamas?

Her pulse raced. “Katie!” She began to run, slogging through the thick weight of the downfall. Cold bit at her cheeks and nose, and her limbs felt heavy. Wet sludge squished beneath her boots, and twigs and dead leaves crackled.

She spotted the red again, just a quick flash, then the outline of a small form. An animal? A deer, maybe?

No, her daughter hobbling on her crutches, her frail body swaying as she struggled against the elements.

Sonya screamed Katie’s name again and launched into a jog. A limb shattered, then crashed to the ground. Ice and snow rained down on her. Sonya jumped over the limb and pushed forward. Another splintered and slammed into her arm. She threw it aside and tore through some fallen branches, desperate to get to her little girl.

Suddenly Katie went down. Her small body disappeared, lost in the blizzard. Panic ripped through Sonya. Where was Katie? The heavy snow could bury her alive within minutes.

Swiping at tears, she sprinted faster, searching, praying, turning to scan the area where she’d seen Katie a moment earlier. Finally she spotted one crutch sticking up from the ground. Her heart throbbed as she closed the distance.

Katie was lying in the thick snow and ice, trying to battle her way up against the ferocious wind, but it pulled her down as if it were quicksand.

Oh God, her poor baby.

Sonya’s paramedic training kicked in. She had to hurry and get Katie warm before hypothermia set in.

Her breath puffed out in clouds of white as she jogged to her. Katie looked up, her eyes full of terror. “Mommy!”

“Shh, Mommy’s got you.” Sonya leaned forward to scoop Katie into her arms, but a loud, horrifying animal-like cry splintered the air. Katie screamed, and Sonya’s lungs tightened as something slammed into her back. She pitched forward, clawed at the air, anything to break her fall, but ice and snow pelted her face and stung her hands as she collapsed.

“Mommy!”

Something sharp clawed at her back through her coat. Sonya sent Katie a panicked look, but waved to her daughter. “Run, Katie! Run! Find shelter!”

Katie’s cheeks ballooned with exertion as she grabbed the crutch from the ground and dragged herself up to stand.

The animal tore at Sonya again, viciously assaulting her, shredding her jacket and ripping through her flannel gown.

Sonya grabbed a broken limb and swung it backward, trying to fend off her attacker long enough for Katie to escape.

“Mommy!” Katie cried.

“Get out of here, Katie! Run now!”

Katie’s chin wobbled and tears streaked her cheeks, but she began to hobble through the woods, pushing her crutches through the snow.

Pain shot through Sonya as the animal’s talons bit into her skin. She tried to roll over and fight, clawing at the ice and snow, but the screech echoed off the mountain, and her head swam as the animal ripped into her flesh.

The stench of death assaulted her. Then she tasted blood, and terror seized her. She was going to die tonight at the hands of this creature.

Then who would take care of Katie?

AN ANIMAL’S vicious attack cry split the air, and Brack froze, listening, focusing on his senses to lead him. The sound was vile, primitive, inhuman. Had it come from the same creature who had mauled the eagle?

Was it attacking again?

He shined the flashlight on the ground and headed in the direction of the noise, the snow swirling in a thick fog in front of him.

The sickening screech erupted again, and he pivoted, zeroing in on the rustle of the trees and movement to his right. He still smelled the blood of the eagle, but the scent of fear and death teased his nostrils, too.

A human’s fear.

Anger sizzled through his veins. His beloved birds weren’t assaulting humans, were they? No, there had to be another explanation.

He glanced up and oddly, through the haze, saw a falcon circling above. Following the falcon was not a question, but his only option. He trusted the bird implicitly. Wind whistled through the bowing branches as he pushed his way through a thicket of pines and hiked toward the caves buried in the mountain. The falcon moved ahead another seventy-five feet, then stopped and flapped his wings, diving downward as if to warn Brack of impending danger.

Brack darted through the fir trees, branches tearing at his jacket sleeve, his heart racing. Seconds later, he spotted blood dotting the milky-white snow. A woman lay on the snow-carpeted ground facedown, the back of her coat and gown ripped to shreds, blood streaking her pale skin. Her hands were outstretched as if she were reaching for something, the delicate skin red and bloody from defense wounds.

His heart lurched to a stop. She was lying so still…

Was he too late? Was she already dead?

Chapter Two

Brack scanned the woods for the woman’s attacker, but the swish of trees and slight tremor of the earth below his feet told him that he had frightened off the creature. He slowly knelt to check the woman’s pulse, pushed her long, curly hair aside, then pressed two fingers to her neck. Her skin still felt warm, and a slight pulse throbbed in her throat. Thank God.

But he had to get her help. She was bleeding and would die if he didn’t hurry.

He reached inside his pocket to call 911, but his cell phone showed no service. Damn. Knowing he had to get her out of the elements, he gently eased her to her side, carefully bracing her against his arm to support her. Her face was covered in snow, her complexion ashen, her cheeks dotted with ice crystals and chafed red from the cold. He brushed away the flakes and gently rubbed his thumb over her cheek. She slowly opened her eyes and whimpered, then tried to pull away.

“Shh, I’m not going to hurt you.” He lowered his voice to a soothing pitch, the same tone he’d perfected with the falcons.

Her eyes widened in terror, and she moaned and pushed at him. “No, get away!”

“My name is Brack Falcon,” he murmured. “I live at Falcon Ridge. I’m going to carry you out of here. You’re bleeding.”

“No…”

Why the hell was she fighting him? Women had been afraid of him before, due to his large size and his affinity for wild animals. But she needed him. “Listen, Miss, you need a doctor.”

She gripped his arm with bloody hands. “No, g-got to find K-Katie first.”

His breath puffed out in a white cloud. “What?”

“My little girl,” she moaned. “She’s out here…I have to find her.”

A child. That explained why she was trudging into the blizzard at night.

“I can’t leave you. Whatever attacked you might come back.” Or you might bleed to death, he added silently. And she was much too young and beautiful to die.

“He might get Katie!” she cried. “Please, she’s only four…she’s so little, and she’s all alone, and she can’t walk very well…”

Brack’s gut clenched. A four-year-old lost in the woods with something attacking humans close by. He didn’t want the picture in his head, but the image flashed there anyway, sending fear through him.

Their gazes locked, and something shifted inside him. Some emotion he didn’t want to identify. He had connected with the woman on some instinctual level.

“Please find her,” the woman pleaded.

Brack searched his brain for another option. She felt so small and vulnerable in his arms, and she was hurting. Yet she was more concerned for her daughter than her own safety. If he carried her back to Falcon Ridge, by the time he returned, the creature might have hurt the little girl. Or she’d be so lost he might not find her in this weather.

He had to go after the kid.

His chest tightened as he jerked off his coat and wrapped it gently around the woman, then lifted her and moved her beneath an overhang. The jutting cliff would protect her from the new falling snow and somewhat from the bitter wind. But he had to hurry.

She clutched his hand again and squeezed it. “Please go now. You have to save her.”

She stared at him. In her eyes, he saw terror, and the realization that she might not make it, but that she didn’t care. She’d sacrifice her life to save her daughter’s. In fact, she’d probably been attacked doing just that.

Emotions swelled in his throat, but he pushed them aside. He didn’t have time for them.

He had to find Katie and bring her back to her mother. Then he had to make sure they both survived.

SONYA FELT her little girl’s fear as if it were a physical part of herself and tried to stay alert.

But her head swam, and the world danced in a haze in front of her eyes. She was bleeding, felt so weak, her body was throbbing…

Her head lolled backward…she could hardly keep her eyes open.

No, don’t go to sleep. Don’t pass out.

She had to hang on. She had to be awake if that man found Katie. What had he said his name was?

She forced her eyes open, but she was completely disoriented. She could no longer see two feet in front of her. Panic gripped her, and she tried to move, to get up, but nausea rose in her throat, and she swayed and collapsed back against the ridge. Pain throbbed relentlessly through her back and arms. But she refused to give in to it. She had to stay calm.

The man would be back. He’d promised. He knew where he’d left her.

Brack Falcon. He said he lived nearby. She’d heard rumors in town about the men at Falcon Ridge. They were strange. Dangerous. They lived in the wild like animals.

But he had spoken so softly to her and had promised to find Katie.

Wind ripped through her coat and tossed debris through the air, the throbbing in her body intensifying as the minutes dragged on. Panic gnawed at her again.

Katie. Dear God, had the creature gotten her? Had Katie stumbled and fallen in the snow? What if she stepped off a ridge or embankment and was hurt? What if Brack Falcon couldn’t find her?

She curled up inside his coat, a sob wrenching from deep in her soul as her little girl’s face flashed in her mind. Katie, with the big brown eyes. Katie, who liked Cheerios and peanut butter cookies. And strawberry shampoo and bubble baths and picking wildflowers in the yard.

Katie with the guileless smile and the determination to overcome her handicap. Katie, who never complained about being left out or struggling to walk, all the things other kids took for granted.

Katie, with no father.

Or rather, one who hadn’t wanted her.

The agony of Stan’s betrayal and parting words felt like a heavy weight slamming into her every time she thought about it. He had wanted a baby, but with Stan, everything had to be perfect.

Katie wasn’t. At least not in Stan’s eyes. And neither was Sonya because she carried a genetic disorder that had caused Katie’s physical problems.

She’d been heartbroken at his cruel comments, but most of all she hated him for abandoning Katie.

Katie might have a physical handicap, but she was perfect in Sonya’s eyes. The most precious child that had ever existed.

She had the heart and soul of an angel.

Pain and fatigue clawed at Sonya, tempting her into unconsciousness. She closed her eyes, a tear leaking out and freezing on her cheek.

Sonya could live without a man in her life. She never wanted that kind of heartache again.

But she’d die if anything happened to her daughter.

WHERE IN the hell was the kid?

Brack stooped to search for footprints, indentations in the icy ground, anything to help him find the child.

Ahead, twigs and debris swirled through the snowy haze, and the sound of a cry floated toward him. It was her. The little girl. He sensed her presence nearby just as he sensed the injured animals in the woods when they needed him.

He was part animal himself, he’d been told enough times. He connected with them on a deep level, much more than humans.

But the woman’s pleas had torn through his defenses. He could still see her wide-set green eyes staring up at him in terror.

His pulse kicked up as he scanned the horizon. It was so damn dark. She might be wandering aimlessly in the forest. She might have fallen and hurt herself. She might be hiding from wild animals.

He closed his eyes, forced his mind to siphon through the fear and zero in on his instincts. What would a little girl do if she was lost or scared?

Find a place to hide? Maybe in a cave or one of the old mines if she stumbled upon one.

The soft swish of a falcon’s wingspan cutting through the air sliced through the noise of the violent wind, and he glanced up and saw the falcon again. Soaring lower than normal. Heading to the east.

Again, he followed it, and the flashlight beam caught a small scrap of red fabric that had snagged on a broken branch. The little girl’s, maybe?

He picked up his pace, then started yelling her name. “Katie! Katie! Where are you, honey?”

His voice floated through the wind and echoed off the mountain. Could she hear him?

Seconds later, he spotted a group of branches piled at the mouth of a cave, and a pair of small crutches was lying near the entrance.

Her mother’s pleas taunted him. Please find her. She can’t walk very well….

He paused, listened. A small cry echoed from within the stone walls. The little girl was inside.

Relief whooshed through him.

He slowly inched forward, knowing she was probably frightened and that he might scare her.

“Katie?” He ducked inside the opening, scanning the gray interior, listening for sounds of her breathing. How far back was she? “Katie?”

He paused, allowing a second for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and then eased another step forward. “Katie, your mommy sent me to get you.”

A small whimper. Almost indiscernible. Still, it chilled his insides.

He glanced to the left, shined the flashlight across the interior.

“Katie, my name is Brack, honey. Your mommy’s worried about you.”

“Mommy?”

The tiny voice made his heart squeeze. She was huddled into a ball, her arms cradling a small animal close to her chest, her chest heaving with sobs. In between her gulps, the soft meow of a kitten drifted toward him.

“Yes, honey. Your mommy.” He squatted down, putting himself more at her eye level, then lowered his voice. “She wants me to bring you back to her.”

A hiccup, then she nodded, her chin still resting against her knees. “Is my mommy aw wight?”

God help him, he didn’t know. But he had to lie. “She is now, but we need to get her to a doctor.”

“It’s all my fauwt,” she cried. “My fauwt that m-monster gots her.”

“Shh, it’s all right.” He reached his hand toward her. “Come on, we have to go now, honey, before the storm gets worse.”

Her eyes were so luminous with fear that she reminded him of a small bird trapped by a predator. “Can you stand up, honey?”

She sucked in a breath that rattled with fear and then clutched the wall with one hand. But she kept the other one wrapped around the kitten.

“What’s your kitty’s name?”

“Snowball…” Her voice broke, brittle, like ice cracking in the wind. “That’s why I runs outside. To finds him.” She wobbled forward, her thin legs buckling, and he caught her. “I needs my crutches.”

“We’ll get them.” He scooped her up into his arms, letting her carry the kitten between them. God, he wished he had a blanket or something to shield her from the cold. She buried her head against his neck, shivering, but she didn’t complain as he dashed outside the cave. He stopped only long enough to grab her crutches, then tucked them under his arm and rushed through the woods back to her mother.

He just prayed the woman was still alive when they reached her.

Chapter Three

Brack dashed through the woods, battling the wind, well aware of the tiny child in his arms who had placed her trust in his hands. He couldn’t let her down.

But what if they were too late to save her mother? Did Katie have a father at home waiting for her? If so, why had the man let his wife go out into the approaching storm to search for the child alone? Where the hell was he now?

And who would take care of Katie if the woman didn’t make it?

His own memories of losing his father erupted from his past to haunt him. Even though his father hadn’t died when he’d been carted off to jail, Brack had felt as if he had. Once he had been incarcerated, his father had cut off all communication with his boys. As an adult, Brack realized that his father had done so to protect his sons, but at six, he hadn’t understood. Instead, he’d felt as if he’d been abandoned.

He cut through the patches of broken limbs and trees, grateful the falcon had led the way to Katie. Her body jerked with the cold, so he cradled her closer, using his own heat to keep her warm.

“We’re almost there, lamb chop,” he murmured.

She nodded against his chest, and his lungs tightened at her brave little face. Finally, he made it to the overhang where he’d left her mother. The woman was so still that panic squeezed the air from his lungs. She lay curled on her side, her knees hunched upward, her head buried in her arms. He quickly knelt and checked for a pulse again. Tension coiled in his muscles when he didn’t feel one, but he shifted his fingers slightly to the left. Yes, he found it. Her pulse was weak and thready, but she had one.

He eased Katie down beside her mother.

Katie tugged at the coat sleeve. “Mommy!” Katie cried. “Mommy, wake up!”

He tipped the little girl’s chin up so she’d look into his eyes. “Honey, I need for you to climb on my back and wrap your arms around my neck. I’ll carry you piggyback, then I can lift your mommy, too. Can you do that for me?”

She bobbed her head up and down, then bit down on her lip. “But what about Snowball?”

Hell, he could no more leave the kitten than he could the woman and child.

He tucked the kitten into the pocket of his coat. “There, now he’s safe and warm.”

Katie smiled at him then, so trusting, that he could have sworn a moonbeam bounced through the dark storm and lit her face like an angel.

He gestured to his back. “Now, hop aboard.” He crouched to the ground so she could wrap her arms around his neck. He grabbed her hands to secure them, and she tried to wrap her legs around his waist, but they dangled as if she didn’t have the strength. His throat convulsed, but he patted her hands. “Good girl.”

She pressed her face against his back away from the wind. He tucked Katie’s crutches below one arm pit, then scooped her mother into his arms and strode back toward Falcon Ridge.

SONYA STIRRED from the depths of unconsciousness and cold. She had to live, wake up, find Katie. Make sure her little girl was safe.

But she was so cold. So tired. Her limbs felt like dead weights and pain throbbed through her. Sleep offered a reprieve, and the darkness pulled her into its abyss. She gave in to it, but then she was trapped in a minefield where light had been obliterated by cave-like walls and where strange mythical creatures stalked the night.

Terror splintered through the fog, and she forced her eyes open. She had to escape the tunnel of darkness, find the light. Then she was being jostled, moved. Somewhere in the haze, Katie’s small voice soothed her.

Finally, she felt herself being lowered onto something soft. Warm. A blanket being tucked around her. Then another. And a fire nearby. The crackle of wood. The hiss of the flames. So cozy. She sank back into sleep, craving the peace it offered.

“Mommy, mommy, you gots to wakes up!”

Katie’s tiny, terrified voice shattered her rest. Sonya forced herself to blink through the fog of pain and cold, but the details of what had happened were fuzzy.

Where was Katie? She couldn’t see her, had lost her in the blizzard. No, that creature had attacked her, and she’d warned Katie to run.

A husky, deep voice followed. “The paramedics are on their way.” A brush of her hair, and she looked up to see a man’s face peering over her. Dark, scruffy hair. Black eyes. A wide-set jaw. He looked dangerous and unkempt, wild like the mystical animal creatures she’d been dreaming about.

Was he the bizarre creature that had attacked her in the woods?

No…he had saved her. And Katie was clinging to his back, her small hands clutching his neck in a choke hold as if she couldn’t let go.

The man…he’d found Katie for her… Brack Falcon…

“You’re at my place now, at Falcon Ridge,” he said in a deep voice. “The paramedics are on their way.”

She tried to nod but wasn’t sure she had actually moved her head. “Katie?” she croaked.

He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “She’s fine. I found her hiding in a cave nearby.” He swung her daughter from his back as if he’d been handling her all his life, and Sonya swallowed back tears. He was huge, had powerful muscles and the biggest, widest hands she’d ever seen on a man, but he gently cradled his arms under Katie’s weak legs and placed her beside Sonya as if Katie were a delicate china doll that might break if handled too roughly. Then he wrapped a thick blanket around Katie.

Katie’s father had never held her like that.

Fresh tears filled her eyes as Katie snuggled into her.

“Mommy, I was s-so scared,” Katie whispered. “I…thought you was gonna leabe me.” Her voice caught, and she buried her head into Sonya’s neck.

Pain shot through Sonya’s battered arm as she slid it below Katie’s back to hug her. “No, baby, Mommy would never, ever leave you.” She brushed Katie’s shoulder-length hair from her damp cheek, then rubbed small circles on Katie’s back to soothe her. “Do you hear me, sweetie? Mommy will always be here for you.”

But fatigue and blood loss had drained all the life from her, and she felt herself slipping back into the darkness again.

“Is there anyone I can call?” Brack asked, drawing her back to reality as if he, too, thought she might be fading off for good. “Your husband? Katie’s father?”

Sonya shook her head. “No, no husband…. No one.”

Worry flickered in the man’s black eyes. He was so serious, somber…maybe she wasn’t going to make it.

“Call Miss Margaret,” she choked out. “She babysits Katie while I work.”

He cuddled the blanket around Katie, wrapping them up together. “This Miss Margaret—how do I reach her?”

“The paramedics…friends of mine.” Her voice broke off, weak. “They’ll know.”

“No, Mommy.” Katie tugged at her face. “Don’t leabe me!”

“Not leaving…” Sonya whispered. “Just have to sleep.”

Katie tightened her arms around Sonya’s neck and squeezed so hard Sonya coughed for air, but she cradled her daughter tighter, unable to release her for fear she would slip away forever.

Then Katie would be all alone with no one to love her.

THE MINUTES DRAGGED by while Brack waited on the ambulance.

He didn’t like the fact that the woman had drifted into unconsciousness. No telling how much blood she had lost. What if the attack had damaged internal organs?

Twenty minutes passed. Still no ambulance.

He had to check her wounds. He coaxed her to roll over to her side, and he carefully cut away the remainder of her flannel gown, leaving the blanket secure around her legs. Then he leaned close to study her wounds. Sharp claw marks remained where something had ripped away the flesh on her hands and back. Dirt, dead skin, leaves, and mangled tissue were matted together in an ugly maze. The wounds were deep, but not to the bone, so hopefully her internal organs weren’t injured. But she needed stitches, antibiotics and pain-killers. And the area had to be cleaned.

He rushed to the bathroom, grabbed the first aid kit he kept on hand, then cleaned the worst of the dirt and debris from her back. She moaned and he winced, hating to hurt her but knowing it had to be done.

In all the years he and his brothers had been rescuing birds of prey, he had seen vicious attacks by animals. But he’d never seen anything so awful as the tender skin on the beautiful woman—desecrated, clawed at as if her attacker wanted to literally taste her blood.

If a bird had done this, it was supersized. Maybe injured. Or what if it was diseased? Was it possible that his beloved creatures had contracted some kind of strange illness that caused them to attack humans?

Finally, a siren squealed outside, and the paramedics punched the gargoyle doorbell, causing a resounding lion’s roar to moan throughout the house. Katie jerked her head up, startled.

He forced a small smile. “I’ve got a crazy doorbell, don’t I?”

She nodded, a tiny smile lifting the corner of her mouth as if they shared a secret. Then she dropped her head back down against her mother’s.

He hurried to let the rescue workers in and quickly explained what had happened. The woman’s name was Sonya Silverstein. Apparently she worked with them as a paramedic. She and Katie had just moved into the old farmhouse just a mile away from Falcon Ridge. He could see the rambling wooden structure from the top of the ridge.

Katie climbed into his lap while the paramedics checked Sonya’s vitals and started an IV, placed a temporary dressing on her wounds, moved her to a gurney and transported her to the ambulance.

“Check the little girl, too,” Brack said. Although she appeared to be okay, he didn’t know how long she’d been out in the snow or how weak her health was. “And Sonya said to call Miss Margaret.”

A big barrel-chested guy who introduced himself as Van Richards nodded, then reached for Katie. “We’ll call her on the way. Come on, peewee, you can ride in the truck with your mama.”

“But whats about Snowball?” Katie asked.

“Snowball will be happier staying at my house where it’s warm tonight,” Brack said in a low voice. “We can take him back to your house in the morning.”

She scrunched her mouth in thought, but seemed to accept his offer.

Van nudged her arm. “We need to go, Katie.”

Katie glanced up at Brack with those mesmerizing eyes, eyes full of terror. “Will you comes with us, Mister?”

“Brack,” he said softly.

Van shot him a skeptical look that bordered on distrust, as if he suspected that Brack might have attacked Sonya. “There’s not room.”

Katie wrinkled up her nose. “I can squish over.”

Brack silently cursed. All his life, he and his brothers had endured those condemning looks. They’d been dubbed murderer’s sons. And then there was their strange affinity for the wild.

It was the very reason he hated this town. He still wasn’t sure he’d stay.

To hell with these guys. He didn’t have to prove himself to them or anyone else in this godforsaken place. He’d done all he could tonight. He’d saved the woman and kid. Now he could walk away.

Katie tugged at his hand, her chin quivering. “Pwease, Mr. Bwack,” Katie pleaded.

Really, how could he refuse the poor little girl? He wanted to know more about the creature that had attacked the woman, anyway.

The younger guy, Joey Bates, climbed in the driver’s seat while Van settled Katie into the back.

“I’ll drive my SUV to the hospital and meet you there, sweetie, okay?”

She nodded, then pasted on a brave smile and huddled into the blanket beside her mother. Sonya was breathing steadily, but anxiety still tugged at Brack. He waved to Katie as the door shut behind them, then crawled into his Land Rover and cranked the engine. The wind beat at the windows, fresh snow swirling in a fog. More questions hammered through his head as he maneuvered the vehicle down the mountain toward town.

Didn’t Sonya have any family to call? Where was her husband?

If he was alive, if they were divorced, did he ever see Katie?

If so, why wouldn’t she have wanted him to call the man now? She’d need help with Katie while she healed.

They’re not your problem, he silently reminded himself. Don’t get involved.

But he had to find out exactly what had attacked Sonya. Was it one of his birds of prey or was it another kind of creature—a human one who not only killed animals but now had attacked an innocent woman?

BRACK PACED the hospital waiting room, sipping the stale, cold coffee from the vending machine as he waited on the doctors to check Katie and Sonya. A half hour later, one of the nurses finally appeared; he almost accosted her with questions, but at the last moment held himself in check.

“Sir, were you the man who found the Silverstein woman and child?”

He glanced at her name tag. Amy. She was youngish, maybe early thirties, blond hair, a kind smile. “Yes. Brack Falcon. How are they?”

“They’re both going to be fine. They treated Sonya’s injuries and have settled her into a room now. Her little girl is in there with her.” She paused, studying him, her eyes narrowed. “We’ve called the babysitter, Margaret Mallady,” she continued. “She said she’d be here as soon as possible to pick up Katie.”

“Good.” He could breathe now. Go home.

“Did you see the attack on Ms. Silverstein, Mr. Falcon?”

He shook his head. “No, I heard her screaming and found her on the ground.”

A frown creased her forehead. “What were they doing outside in the blizzard?”

“The little girl snuck out looking for her kitten.”

“That sounds like Katie.” The woman’s round cheeks ballooned out as she shook her head. “Poor Sonya. She’s had her hands full. She didn’t need this.”

He frowned, wanting to ask what she meant but warning himself not to.

Don’t get involved, and you won’t get hurt.

He was a loner. A man who needed no one. A man who didn’t want anyone needing him.

“Doctor Waverman called the sheriff,” Amy said. “To report the attacks.”

Sheriff Cohen. Dammit. He was the last person in town Brack wanted to see. He hated the man for railroading his father into jail twenty years ago. And he’d tried to run Rex out of town when he’d first arrived, and he’d interfered with their investigation.

“Oh, there he is now.” She rushed forward to greet the sheriff, then gestured toward Brack. Sheriff Cohen’s jowls shook as he gave Brack a once-over. His look said it all. Why had the Falcon boys returned to Falcon Ridge—to cause trouble?

Cohen shifted, then jerked his pants up with his stubby thumbs and stalked toward Brack. “So, you’re the other Falcon?”

Brack nodded. “Sheriff.”

“You found the Silverstein woman?”

“Yes.”

His bushy eyebrows climbed his forehead. “Mind telling me what you were doing out in the woods?”

“You know my family rescues injured birds. Lately there have been several attacks on the animals. I heard a loud screeching sound, and was out checking on them.”

“You were searching for wounded birds?” Suspicion laced the sheriff’s gruff voice.

“Yes. Then I heard a scream and found the woman on the ground. She’d been attacked. But she told me to look for her little girl.” He forced a steely calm to his voice although the memory of having to leave the woman alone haunted him. “I found Katie hiding in a cave, then carried them both to my house and phoned the paramedics.” He finished matter-of-factly, glaring at the sheriff, willing him to defy his statement.

“You know what attacked the woman?” Cohen asked.

Brack shook his head. “I didn’t see the actual attack.”

A doctor appeared through a set of double doors, then introduced himself to Brack and the sheriff. “Is Ms. Silverstein awake yet?” Sheriff Cohen asked. “I’d like to get her statement.”

Dr. Waverman shook his head. “She’s pretty heavily sedated, but we can go in for just a moment. Her daughter is with her.”

“Tell me about her injuries,” Sheriff Cohen ordered.

Dr. Waverman winced, then described the claw marks on Sonya’s back and hands. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. The marks look like talons but some of them are so large…”

“Damn birds,” Sheriff Cohen said. “This is you and your brothers’ fault,” he snapped. “We never had trouble with birds attacking people before, not till you moved back and started providing a refuge for them. Are you breeding some special kind that feeds on humans?”

Brack’s blood ran cold at the man’s accusations. “That’s ridiculous. If the birds are attacking people, they must be sick.”

“Then they need to be destroyed,” Sheriff Cohen said.

Brack’s jaw tightened, his control teetering on the edge. What kind of ignorant moron was Cohen? “What they need is medical treatment.”

“Gentlemen, why don’t we see what Sonya has to say before we do anything rash,” Dr. Waverman suggested.

Brack and the sheriff exchanged silent, menacing looks, but followed quietly. The scent of antiseptic and medicines pervaded the halls; the beep of hospital machinery and rattling of medicine carts and gurneys added a layer of charged tension.

Brack’s gut clenched when he stepped inside. Sonya lay against the stark white sheets, her dark curly hair spread across the pillow, her face pale in sleep. Long dark lashes curled against ivory skin dotted with the faintest row of freckles. Her lips were a natural ruby color, her chin slightly pointed, her face heart-shaped. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her before, but she was stunning, like a real-life Sleeping Beauty. The childish story taunted him—if he kissed her, would she wake up and be healed?

Ridiculous.

His gaze landed on her bandaged hands and anger churned through him. A primitive surge of protective instincts swelled in his chest, as well.

The sheriff walked over and stared at Katie with a scowl. She looked impossibly small and fragile huddled in the chair beside her mother’s hospital bed. Someone, probably the nurse, had helped her into fresh dry pajamas and socks, and had thought to give her a pad of paper and some crayons. She was drawing intently, her pug nose scrunched in concentration.

“Katie, did you see the animal that attacked your mother?” Sheriff Cohen asked.

So much for tact.

Katie slowly tipped her face upward, but she cowered into the chair away from the hulking sheriff.

Brack strode forward and knelt beside her chair. She automatically reached for his hand, and he slid it around her trembling shoulder. “It’s all right, honey. We just need to know what happened to your mommy.”

“It was one of those hawks, wasn’t it?” Cohen asked. “They’ve been attacking each other, and tonight they attacked your mother, isn’t that right?”

Katie’s lower lip quivered. “I d-don’t k-know what it was.”

“What do you mean, honey?” Brack asked softly.

“It wooked wike a giant bird,” she whispered, “but it w-was a monster.”

Brack gritted his teeth, then glanced at the picture she’d drawn. Although it was crude, a four-year-old’s handiwork, the definite shape of a winged creature filled the page. Maybe a large eagle or hawk. Black and brown, with long, sharp talons.

Except this bird had the head of a human.

HE LIFTED his talons in front of him, smiling at the torn flesh and blood lingering on the sharp edges. Tonight the animal inside him had emerged from the gray emptiness of the night, called to life by the scent of blood and fear.

First the eagle that he had ripped apart with his talons. Then the little girl’s terrorized cry. The scent of her small body. Then the smell of a woman’s.

Oh, but she had tasted sweet.

Her blood had only whetted his appetite for the hungers of the flesh. For her body. Her heart. Her soul.

She had been the first human.

But not the last.

The animals had served him well in the beginning. But as he fed the beast within him, the need for more sustenance grew.

From now on, the birds would be his appetizer.

Then he’d feast on a human’s blood and let the two mingle together.

Chapter Four

Brack stared at the drawing of the winged monster, and his gut clenched. Katie was only a child, was tiny herself, and she’d been terrified—had she imagined the half bird-half man? Or could it really exist? Some kind of mutant…

No, it was impossible. He practically lived in those woods, knew the mountains. If such a creature existed, he would have seen it.

There are places to hide, a voice whispered inside his head. The old mines and tunnels. The dark edges of the forest…

The rumors about the epidemic of typhoid fever that had once destroyed half the town rose from the depths of his subconscious. The bodies had been burned, buried in a tunnel underground, the old mine blasted shut, hoping to contain the germs of the dead. He’d always wondered if somehow the ashes of those who’d died might filter into the land or water and rise to haunt them.

“Katie—” Sheriff Cohen leaned over, beefy hands on his knees “—was that what you saw, or are you getting the birds mixed up with this man here?” He pointed to Brack. “Are you sure he didn’t attack your mother?”

Katie’s eyes widened to saucer size, and Brack cursed silently. How dare Cohen suggest that he had attacked Sonya? The son of a…

Cold rage poured through him, but he stood ramrod straight, his pulse pounding as he waited on Katie’s response. He didn’t know what he’d do if she decided she should fear him, but the thought disturbed him more than he wanted to admit.

Sonya’s eyelashes fluttered, then she opened her eyes and stared at him. Her eyes were the most unusual green he’d ever seen, somewhere between the lush green of the Colorado mountainside in spring and the dark, rich color of emeralds. And they were as bewitching as an animal’s eyes in total darkness.

Again, he felt a deep connection, although a wariness flickered in her pain-filled expression, and he realized she had heard Cohen’s accusations. Her skeptical gaze tore at him.

Hell, he didn’t care. He was what he was, and he wouldn’t change for anybody.

Katie clutched the sketchpad to her side with one hand and slid her other one around his own. “No, Mr. Bwack, he saves us. And the birds…they brings him to me.”

Brack frowned. Did she have some kind of sixth sense when it came to animals as he did?

Whatever the reason, her gesture of unquestioning trust tugged at emotions long buried in his chest.

Emotions he didn’t want to feel for her or her mother.

Emotions that whispered that maybe he didn’t really want to be alone. That as much as he’d hardened himself to thinking that he could live without a woman in his life, he was wrong.

That Sonya Silverstein might fill some part of his soul that had been lost a long time ago.

He immediately jerked his gaze from hers, his instincts warning him to walk away. He could not forget who he was. Could not get involved with Sonya and lose himself in the process.

He had to discover the truth about these bizarre attacks and take care of the birds. Nothing else mattered.

He wouldn’t let it.

EVERY BONE AND MUSCLE in Sonya’s body ached, but she dragged herself from the effects of the medication and pain, and opened her eyes. Her daughter was frightened and needed her.

The scent of alcohol and hospital odors permeated the air. The rustle of the sheets as she twisted them in her fingers rattled over the blur of voices. Through the fog of drugs, Sheriff Cohen’s accusations registered. She noticed the angry glint in Brack Falcon’s powerful jaw as he’d clenched it. He could be formidable when crossed. Maybe even dangerous.

But her frail little daughter slid her small hand into his large one in blind trust.

The sight made her heart twist. Was Katie right to trust this stranger?

He had been in the woods when she was attacked. She’d heard the rumors about the Falcon men. Had been forewarned by some of the older women in town to stay away from them.

Could he have attacked her, then come back to rescue her to make himself look like a hero to the town?

His dark eyes shifted over her, and unease clawed at her chest. He didn’t strike her as the type of man to want a hero’s welcome or attention. Yet what did she know about him?

She’d certainly been wrong about her former husband.

But something had definitely transpired between her and Brack Falcon back in the woods, some moment of intense fear that had connected them. That, and another emotion she couldn’t pinpoint at the moment.

Old insecurities and distrust from her marriage taunted her.

She couldn’t trust any man. Especially where her daughter was concerned.

Yet Katie, in her innocence, seemed to like him.

On the other hand, Katie exhibited a wariness toward the other man, who looked like the sheriff, as if she immediately saw him as an enemy. Or maybe she just didn’t like him belittling her new friend.

Whatever the reason, it was her job to protect Katie, not Brack Falcon’s. She and Katie were a team and she couldn’t allow anyone into their lives. Couldn’t chance either of them growing too attached and getting hurt.

The sheriff turned to her then, as if he’d just noticed she was awake. “Ms. Silverstein, you’re awake now?”

She nodded, although when she tried to speak her lips felt as if they were glued together.

“I’m Sheriff Cohen. Maybe you can clear this up. Did this man attack you in the woods?”

Brack Falcon’s dark eyes pierced straight to her soul, and her stomach fluttered. Katie huddled closer to Brack, and Sonya wet her lips, the realization that her daughter was clinging to Brack sending a shiver of trepidation through her.

Yet hadn’t she wanted to cling to him in the woods herself when she’d been terrified? Hadn’t she begged him for help and felt comforted in his strong arms when he’d carried her and Katie to safety?

“No,” she managed to whisper.

“Then what was it?” Sheriff Cohen asked.

Sonya searched her memory for details, for some way to explain, but she’d only glimpsed the shadow of a creature. She’d been too busy trying to fend off the attack.

“I’m not sure,” she said in a strained voice. “Some kind of animal, maybe.”

Cohen jammed his lips together. “I’m calling in someone from the state,” he said. “They’ll track down those damn birds and destroy them.” He turned to Brack. “And if I find out that you and your brothers are raising some mutant attack birds or that you’re responsible for these vicious attacks, I’ll lock you up for attempted murder.”

He turned back to Sonya. “If I were you, Ms. Silverstein, I’d stay away from this man, and keep your daughter away from him, too.”

“I tolds you it was a m-monster,” Katie cried. “He wooked wike that picture!”

Sheriff Cohen’s laugh boomeranged through the room as he cut his eyes over Katie, then Sonya. “Honey, that creature is part animal, part man, just like the Falcon men. They don’t belong in this town.” He fisted his hands on his hips. “Now heed my warning, or I have a feeling next time you won’t be so lucky.”

Sonya clutched the sheet between her fingers again, the sheriff’s cold tone sending a shiver through her. Brack stiffened and started to release Katie’s hand, but she gripped him tighter as she watched Sheriff Cohen stalk from the room.

Brack cleared his throat, his voice gruff when he spoke. “I’ll leave if you want, Sonya.”

The way his deep voice rumbled out her name made a tingle travel down her spine. His stiff posture suggested that he would understand if she said yes. That he was aware of his bad reputation.

Yet her daughter was smitten with Brack and afraid of the sheriff. Fatigue clawed at her again. She couldn’t keep her eyes open. And she didn’t want Katie to be alone while she waited on Margaret to arrive.

Still, Brack was big and tough, so intense that he exuded power. And with power came danger.

She should tell him to leave. She and Katie didn’t need anyone but each other.

But Katie had been through so much already tonight. And she looked so small and vulnerable beside him….

“Please stay with Katie until Ms. Margie gets here,” she whispered.

He shifted on the balls of his feet, looking uncomfortable for a moment. Then he gave a curt nod.

Uneasiness speared through her. She didn’t want to trust him, didn’t want him in her life.

And if she was wrong about him and he hurt her daughter in any way, she’d help the sheriff run him out of town and not think twice about it.

BRACK GRIMACED as Sonya slipped back into sleep. Dammit, she was in pain. And it bothered him on a level he didn’t want to explore. Cohen’s intimidation tactics disturbed him even more. Not because he was afraid of the man, but because Cohen had tried to scare the kid with them.

He might not want a family, but he wasn’t a monster, either. And he sure as hell didn’t make it a practice to go around terrifying children.

Katie clung to his hand, and he glanced down to see her yawn. The poor little girl had been through hell tonight and needed some rest. And that babysitter might not be able to drive through the storm for a while.

Dammit. He needed to get going. Itched to hike into the woods and hunt down the creature who’d attacked Sonya. But he’d promised Sonya he wouldn’t leave Katie alone.

Katie’s head lolled to the side against the chair arm, and he scooped her up, wrapped the blanket around her, then sat down and cradled her in his lap. Katie snuggled into his chest and fell asleep instantly. She was so teeny she barely weighed anything at all. So frail that the urge to protect her and slay all her demons hit him.

But he didn’t need any complications right now. He wasn’t Katie’s father and refused to get involved with her or Sonya.

Sonya whimpered then and rolled to her side, her dark hair falling across her bruised cheek, and he fought his baser instincts. Then, hell, he lost and brushed her hair from her cheek, trying to soothe her. She moaned and jerked her eyes open as if she’d been in the throes of a nightmare, and their gazes locked. She had been reliving the attack—he saw the terror in her expression.

Then she looked down at her daughter curled against him, and her expression softened. “Thank you for being so kind to Katie tonight,” she whispered.

“How could anyone not be kind to her?” he asked gruffly.

Pain tightened her features. “The kids…they tease her, can be mean.” Her voice broke. “And others…they don’t understand.”

His jaw went rigid, his body taut as tension vibrated between them. It was none of his business, but he had to ask. “Where’s her father?”

A long second passed, and a chill swept through the room, as if a ghost had passed through. “He’s not a part of our lives,” she said quietly.

He wanted to ask more but bit back the temptation, and Sonya clamped her lips together as if she’d already said too much.

Better they left it that way. He didn’t need to know personal information. Only that something had attacked her tonight, and he’d find out what it was.

Still, as she stared at him, the sadness in her eyes tore at him.

Her husband must have abandoned her and Katie. Bastard.

His gaze fell to her lips. They were so ripe and pink he wondered what they would feel like under his mouth. Would she taste as sweet as she looked?

Suddenly he wanted to soothe away her pain. Make her smile and forget about the man who’d hurt her.

But he barely knew her, or Katie. He didn’t belong in their lives and could not replace the jerk who’d forsaken them.

Hell, his own family had been torn apart when he was small so it was natural that he’d feel compassion for her and her child. After all, he wasn’t a monster.

But he wasn’t a man who wanted a relationship with a woman now, either.

Tomorrow Sonya would go home. And he would return to Falcon Ridge. He’d hunt down her attacker, take care of his birds, and keep Cohen away from them.

And he’d live alone, just as he always intended.

SONYA SLEPT fitfully, waking every so often to search the darkness for her daughter. The nurse had called Margaret again to see what was keeping her. Margaret’s husband had to clear the entrance to their drive before they could maneuver into town to get Katie, but she was finally on the way.

Brack had dozed off himself, but his body was so big he looked uncomfortable sleeping in the chair. Dark beard stubble dotted his wide, strong jaw and his scraggly, shoulder-length hair brushed his collar, looking unkempt. He looked rugged and wild, as if he belonged out in the woods with the animals.

Yet with his head tilted sideways, his arm curved protectively around Katie, he also looked vulnerable. Tears pushed at the backs of her eyelids again, her chest hurting from the pressure. But she blinked back the moisture. The pain and medication were making her sappy. Making her read things that weren’t there.

Brack Falcon was not a vulnerable man.

But God knows, she’d been terrified when she’d been attacked. More so for Katie than for herself, but still…the memory of that creature tearing into her flesh would haunt her forever. If Brack hadn’t come along when he did, she might have died. And so might have her daughter.

Would Stan raise Katie if something happened to her?

A tremor rippled through her. Would he eventually accept her disability and love her unconditionally?

If not, would her mother want Katie?

Sonya choked back more tears at the thought of the chasm between her and her mother. Evelyn Simpson didn’t even know she had a grandchild….

Not that that was entirely her mother’s fault. No, her own stubborn pride and guilt had kept her from turning to her mother after the divorce.

And from confiding about her handicapped baby.

Her mother’s bitter warnings about Stan whispered in her ears. Evelyn had never liked him. She’d tried to convince Sonya that Stan was selfish, that underneath his charm lay the heart of a manipulative man who wanted to control every aspect of his life, including his wife and child.

A man who hated imperfections.

God, if she’d only listened to her mother…

But then she wouldn’t have her daughter. And she couldn’t imagine not having Katie in her life.

But in light of the attack tonight, she should rethink her silence. Katie would love Evelyn, and her mother…she sensed her mother would accept Katie and her limitations.

Brack shifted slightly, and she tensed as he opened his eyes and stared into hers.

“Are you all right?” he asked in a voice husky with sleep.

She nodded, well aware of how intimate the small, dark room seemed. His breathing rattled in the silence that followed, as if he, too, felt the sexual tension between them.

“Do you need something?” he said in a low voice. “Pain medication?”

She shook her head, her emotions ping-ponging in her chest. Why did his soft, husky tone make her want to cling to him?

And why did the thought of doing so terrify her?

The door squeaked open, and Margaret and her husband came in. Sonya sighed in relief, knowing she needed a reality check and for Brack Falcon to leave. He was taking up too much of the room. His scent, his body, seemed to fill it.

Margaret worried her bottom lip when she saw Brack in the room and maintained her distance from him, as if he might bite. Sonya explained about the attack, and Margaret gasped, then hugged her arms around herself.

“I’ve heard about the ghosts that haunt the town,” Margaret said, “and I knew wild animals lived in the woods, but this is awful.”

Her husband frowned, looking worried, then scooped Katie into his arms, and they left, both dismissing Brack’s offer of assistance.

A muscle twitched in his jaw as he stood and worked the kinks from his long legs. “I’ll go now.”

Sonya inhaled, wondering if she should have assured Margaret that Brack was safe. But she couldn’t. “Thank you, Brack. For everything.”

Anger glinted in his eyes. “No problem.”

Sonya told herself it didn’t matter what he thought of her. She didn’t intend to apologize for her friends wanting to protect her daughter. It was better he leave now. Hopefully, they wouldn’t have to cross paths again.

Because she had no intention of getting involved with him or any other man.

HIS HUNGER was mounting, growing more incessant, the need to feed more often throbbing within him.

He wanted to taste Sonya again. She had been so delicious the first time that he craved more. But he had to bide his time.

When he saw her, and he would see her, she must never know how he felt about her.

He would befriend her. Earn her trust. Become her confidant.

And hide his dark side.

Until then, he had to find prey elsewhere.

He dipped his talon in blood, drew out a white sheet of paper, and began to write.

Some animals mate only once

You are mine now, Sonya.

You wear my markings

and will for life.

Laughter and lust sang through his bloodstream as he drew a heart on the page with the blood. He wouldn’t give her the note just yet. But one day he would.

Instead, he’d leave her a small present. A token to assure her that he hadn’t forgotten her.

His animal instincts alive, he set off into the woods, eyes piercing the darkness, senses alert for the weak.

First the hunt.

Then the kill.

Then he would spread the blood of his victim on her door so she would know he hadn’t deserted her. That he was coming back.

And that soon she would be his.

Chapter Five

Brack stalked outside, battling irritation at the wary look Sonya’s babysitter had given him. Sonya had looked relieved to have him leave, as well.

Hell, what did he care?

He had a job to do, and he’d damn well do it. Someone or something was hurting the birds he loved, and he intended to put a stop to it.

He phoned Deke and Rex and filled them in while he drove back to the house. A half hour later, he met his brothers in the library to strategize.

“Sheriff Cohen thinks we’re raising mutant attack birds up here,” Brack said.

Deke gave a belly laugh and Rex cursed. “Sheriff Cohen is a moron.”

Brack’s sentiments exactly. “He’s determined to pin these attacks on us, and to run us out of town.”

“We’re not scared kids anymore.” Rex sipped his coffee. “And he’s not running us or our families out of town again.”

“I’d like to see him run out of office,” Deke muttered.

Brack and Rex said amen to that comment.

“He threatened to bring someone in from the state agencies to check out the birds, but I don’t trust him,” Brack explained. “I think we should call in our own wildlife biologist, someone who can help us figure out what the hell’s going on. If it’s up to Cohen, he’ll destroy the falcons and burn down Falcon Ridge.”

“Over my dead body,” Rex snapped.

“We’ll get to the bottom of it first, get the animal rights activists on board if we have to,” Deke assured him. “You were in the woods, Brack? What do you think happened to the woman?”

The memory of Sonya’s terrified eyes haunted him. “I don’t know. I heard a horrific attack cry that sounded half human, half animal. And you’ve both seen the injured falcons. Something is literally ripping out their talons and mauling them to death.”

“I’ve never seen birds prey on each other like this, or on humans,” Rex said. “We should have the remains of the mutilated birds tested.”

“I’ll talk to the vet, Doctor Priestly,” Brack said. “In fact, I’ve been wondering how this predator catches the birds. We all know that’s next to impossible with a healthy raptor.”

“Which means he may injure them in some other way first,” Deke said.

“We haven’t found bullet wounds in them, though,” Brack said.

“Maybe he’s poisoning them somehow,” Rex said. “Tainting their food source with something to make them ill. I’ll get the EPA out here right away.”

Brack hissed, “And I’ll have Doctor Priestly run tests, look at tox screens.”

“You said the little girl claimed a monster bird attacked her mother?” Deke asked.

Brack nodded.

The three men exchanged skeptical but worried looks. “There were talon marks on Sonya’s back.” Her wounds had looked odd, sadistic like an animal, but humans could be sadistic, as well. Often, psychopaths began their criminal activities by killing pets and other animals as children. Then their violence escalated. Perhaps that was the case here.

“Is the woman going to be all right?” Rex asked.

Brack nodded. “She’ll heal, she seems tough. By the way, they’re our neighbors. She and her daughter just moved in to that old farmhouse down the hill.”

“The one built over the land that’s supposedly possessed?” Rex asked.

Brack nodded. He didn’t know if Sonya had known about the rumor when she’d bought the farmhouse or not. But bad things had happened there before. A murder years ago. Another questionable death in the woods last year. Some said the land was tainted, that it held evil itself because of the miners who’d died and been buried below ground.

“Maybe Elsie and Allison can stop by and see her,” Deke suggested.

Brack nodded, remembering how difficult Elsie’s life had been. Her father had kidnapped her from her mother when she was four, then abandoned her in an orphanage for unwed mothers when she was thirteen. She’d been abused and traumatized and had only recently reconnected with her mother—all thanks to Deke. Then Deke had married her, and now they planned to open a center for troubled teens in town.

“Hailey will probably want to go, too,” Rex said. “She’s joined this group in town where they deliver a basket of goodies to new residents.”

Brack shook his head at his brothers. They were turning damn domestic on him.

But he felt for his brother’s wife, Hailey. Hell, how could he not? Their lives had been intertwined since they were kids when his father had been accused of killing her parents. Hailey had witnessed the bloodbath the town called the Hatchet Murders when she was little, but she’d repressed the memory until she’d returned to Tin City. At the time, Rex had been trying to prove their father innocent of the crimes. Then someone had tried to kill Hailey to keep her from remembering, and Rex and Hailey had been thrown together.

Brack was happy for his brothers, but he had no intention of giving up his freedom for a woman. No, he’d almost made that mistake two years ago in Arizona when he’d mixed business with pleasure.

Erica Evans had poleaxed him when she’d come looking for a bodyguard for her and her child. He’d fallen hard for her, had even considered asking her to marry him.

Then she’d hauled it back to her husband.

In the end, she’d claimed he was too dark and brooding for her. Said he didn’t know how to socialize. Hell, she was right. He’d prefer a hike in the woods alone to a party any day.

But the thing that disturbed him most was her final dig—she claimed that he scared her kid.

Sonya Silverstein’s beautiful face flashed into his mind, then her little girl’s, and the mental wheels in his brain rolled like a freight train barreling ahead. But he refused to board that train again.

“I’m going into the woods now, see what I can find,” Brack said. He strode from the room, needing to be alone.

Needing to blend into the woods with the animals and forget that Sonya’s green eyes had momentarily made him want to bury himself in her and forget his vow of solitude.

NIGHTMARES of the attack tormented Sonya. Katie’s terrified screams echoed in her head. Her own followed.

She jerked awake and stared at the clock, her body tense. The nightmare was over. Katie was safe. And she was in the hospital.

The clock read 6:00 p.m. She desperately wanted to go home.

She could not spend another hour in this room. The smells, sounds…they were a part of her job. Yet in the back of her mind, other memories stood out. The night she’d given birth to her daughter. The problems with the delivery. The horrifying realization that something was wrong.

The incubator where they’d placed her premature newborn. She’d been born six weeks early, and weighed only three pounds. She had struggled for days with her breathing. And then the tests…

Hours of endless waiting. Days of not knowing. Stan’s denial.

Then his withdrawal.

As if only the perfect in society deserved love.

She’d fought against hating him then. Not for herself but for the infant who needed him. And last night she’d come so close to losing her baby again….

She had to go home. Tuck Katie into bed, touch her and know that they were both still alive.

She beeped the nurses’ station and begged the RN to persuade the doctor to release her. Katie needed her tonight, and she needed to be with her in their own house.

Even though she was beginning to wonder if the house was haunted. Had it had been built on tainted land as rumors in Tin City claimed? Land where evil bled through the ground and rose to leak a sinister danger in the walls.

Dr. Waverman, a physician she had worked with more than once when she’d worked the ER rotations, stepped into the room. He was midthirties, had sandy brown hair, hazel eyes, and had displayed more than a passing interest in her since she’d accepted a job with Tin City’s only rescue squad unit.

And although he seemed nice, she hadn’t felt any sexual sparks or interest in return.

Maybe she had cut herself off from men because she was afraid. Her parents’ marriage had failed. Hers had ended bitterly.

Everyone she loved deserted her.

She’d even convinced herself that she was past feeling anything for any man.

Then why had she felt a connection with Brack Falcon? Why had her skin tingled and her body felt drawn to him?

Because he saved your life.

It was only natural.

“Sonya.” Dr. Waverman looked up from her chart. “I think you need to rest at least twenty-four hours before going home. You lost a lot of blood.”

“I’m fine, Doctor Waverman. I can’t sleep here, especially since I would have to leave Katie all night.”

“Sonya, 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 her each night. In the darkness, she thought she’d heard a ghost whispering in the eaves of the wooden boards, and she imagined the dead that had gone before her walking underground and sending tremors through the earth that shook the walls and made the pictures on her nightstand rattle.

She shivered, and slipped off the hospital gown, wondering if she was going crazy. All this talk of ghosts in Tin City, and now of a mutant bird-man… Heaven help her. She had to have imagined the ghost sounds. And Katie had to have imagined the monster.

If her husband had any inclination to sue for custody and he caught wind that she suspected her house might be haunted, he’d have a good case to take her daughter from her.

But Stan wouldn’t do such a thing. He didn’t want her or Katie.

She swallowed back the hurt, then winced at the soreness in her limbs as she pulled on the sweats the nurse had brought her. Thankfully, the ER kept a stash of extra clothes in case of emergencies. At least the shapeless clothes were loose, warm and nonabrasive against her bandaged arms and back.

A knock sounded at the door just as she pulled on socks. “Come in.”

The door squeaked open, and Dr. Waverman poked his head in. Behind him, Brack Falcon appeared. Surprise made her chest flutter. He’d pulled his hair back into a ponytail with a leather thong, and his bronzed cheeks looked chafed from the wind. Beneath the hospital lights, the dark beard stubble grazing his jaw stood out, making him look impossibly formidable and rough, as if he might have been out fighting wild animals in the wilderness.

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