New Species 05 Brawn (5 page)

The urge to ask her if he could touch her side again, minus
her shirt, to feel her soft skin struck him, but he resisted it. It would be
inappropriate, he knew. He held his tongue.

“I should go to bed.” She let go of his hair and slid her
hands down his chest next to it. “Yeah. I should.”

“I’ll escort you to your door to make sure you don’t trip.
You’re a little unsteady on your feet.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

She stepped back and he released her hips. She wobbled a
little but turned of her own accord and walked toward the archway. He followed
closely and worried when she climbed the stairs. She didn’t fall though and
made it all the way to her room. She paused, peered at him over her shoulder
and stared into his eyes.

“Good night, Brawn. Sweet dreams.”

He nodded, refused to admit that when he had dreams, they
were unpleasant memories of his past captivity. He didn’t want to tell her
about the nightmares that sometimes woke him in the middle of the night. He’d
be in a cold sweat, sure that being freed had just been wishful thinking.

She closed the door but he waited, listening to her move
around her room, in case she passed out. The whisper of her clothes being
removed reached his keen hearing and he closed his eyes, trying to think about
something else. He was more than curious about what she’d look like bare. The
bed took her weight and he still remained until her breathing slowed to assure
him she had fallen asleep.

He blew out a deep breath, opened his eyes and returned
downstairs to turn off the music and make certain the lower floor was secure.
He felt out of place in Becca’s home, away from his people, living in the out
world with humans.

Chapter Three

Becca woke with a start, confused at first about where she
was, before memory surfaced. She winced, remembered most of her drunken
discussion with her houseguest and promised to apologize to Brawn first thing
in the morning. She glanced at her nightstand clock and took note it was nearing
three in the morning. The reason she had jerked awake sounded again.

She frowned, listening to the persistent barking from
Boomer, her neighbor’s beloved pooch. It wasn’t normal for the little dog to be
noisy, especially in the middle of the night. She shoved off the covers to get
out of bed. She crossed the room, gripped the curtain and pulled it back a few
inches to stare over the wall that separated her property from the one behind
it.

She could see Mel and Tina’s house from the second floor of
her bedroom and frowned at the sight that met her sleepy gaze. The house was
lit up brightly, every room illuminated and that wasn’t normal either. They
were in their late forties, worked nine-to-five jobs during the week and she
usually only saw a few lights on at any given time. It was highly doubtful
they’d throw a huge party mid-week, if ever.

Boomer barked rapidly, a shriek came from him and it grew
eerily silent. Becca’s heart dropped and she spun, rushed for her closet and
jerked it open. Her fingers traced the upper shelf, found the drawstring, silky
material and dragged it down. She rushed to her window with Bradley’s beloved
opera glasses and lifted them to her eyes as she pulled back the curtain with
her elbow. A quick manipulation of the glasses brought her neighbor’s house
into sharp focus.

At first she didn’t see anything unusual. Mel and Tina
didn’t have curtains or blinds on the back of their house. The houses were too
far apart for them to ever worry about needing them. All the house lots were
large so people who lived in the neighborhood naturally had privacy, unless
someone directed binoculars their way.

The living room was empty. She moved the glasses until the
kitchen came into view, still not spotting any movement. She moved on to the
family room where Tina sat in a chair. The woman’s platinum-blonde hair was
hard to miss, as was her frantically shaking head and the sight of something
silver over her lower face.

“What the hell?” Becca was confused by what she saw over the
other woman’s face and then it sank in. “Oh my God!” Someone had covered her
neighbor’s mouth with duct tape. She needed to call 9-1-1. They were being
robbed!

As she started to turn away to lung for the phone, someone
large, dressed in black, stepped into the room with Tina. Though his back was
to her, she knew it was a man by his size. His hand lifted. A slight popping
sound reached her ears right as Tina jerked backward in the chair.

“Oh fuck,” Becca hissed. Tina’s face was destroyed. Blood,
gore and a misshapen mass with platinum blonde hair was all that remained. The
burglar had murdered her neighbor, shot her in the face.

Becca spun, threw the opera glasses aside and ran for her
bedside table. Her leg hit the bed and she nearly fell in the dark room but
found the phone on her bedside table. Silence met her ear instead of a dial
tone when she yanked the receiver up. She was afraid to turn on a light, didn’t
want to risk the burglar being alerted if he happened to look out into the
backyard when it came on. She tapped the cradle. The damn thing was dead.

Don’t panic and think! My cell phone
! She’d left her
purse downstairs somewhere near the front door. She eased open the drawer
first, her fingers searched and found cold metal and she grabbed the gun. It
felt heavy in her hand but she’d be damned if she let that asshole get away
with killing Mel too. She could still be alive and might not have but a few
minutes for the cops to arrive.

She stumbled for the door, hit the wall next to it and
yanked it open. Becca ignored the hallway light switch, knowing the burglar
would see the lights come on if he were looking out those curtainless windows
toward her yard. A sob tore from her throat.

She tried to hold it together as she rushed down the dark
hallway, misjudged the table and slammed into it. Becca cursed softly and
gripped her knee. She hopped a few steps and clutched the gun tighter to avoid
dropping the damn thing.

Motion made her gasp as a dark shape moved ahead of her. She
opened her mouth to scream but remembered Brawn was in her house. The dark
shadow stood in front of his room. Relief hit her big-time as she limped
closer.

“I just saw my neighbor being murdered,” she whispered.
“Don’t turn on the lights. The guy might see them and take off. I’m calling the
police.”

“Are you sure?”

“He shot her in the face.” Becca gulped in air and felt hot
tears streaming down her face. “Didn’t you hear that sound of…” She made a
sobbing sound. “She’s dead. Her face was mush and there was blood. My cell
phone is in my purse downstairs. The phone line is down in my bedroom. I don’t
want the guy to get away.” She edged around him toward the stairs.

A pair of hands suddenly gripped her upper arms. “The phone
line is down?”

“Yes.”

He growled.

“Let me go. I have to get my cell phone and be careful, I have
my gun. That asshole isn’t going to get away if I have to shoot the fucker to
keep him there for the cops to arrest.”

“How many men did you see?”

“One. Let go. I have to call the police and get over there
before the guy gets away.”

“Don’t you think it’s alarming that your lines are down and
your neighbor was just murdered?” His voice was soft. “Stay here. I have a cell
phone in my room. Do not move.”

She leaned against the wall, realized her emotions were
scrambled from sleep and shock and it probably wasn’t a bright idea to go climb
the wall to face a burglar with a gun. As long as he didn’t realize someone had
seen him, he’d take his time stealing from the house and she hadn’t seen Mel.
She’d have been with Tina or she was already dead.

“Okay.”

His hands released her and he backed into his room. She
stood there gripping the gun, trying to pull herself together. She wiped at
tears, calmed enough to realize she was still a little drunk and Brawn was
right. Calling the police was paramount. Brawn’s soft voice soothed her frayed
nerves as he approached her. His dark shape halted inches from her.

“Send the police and help,” he ordered then the faint light
of his cell phone died as he closed it.

“I contacted my people and they will have help to us soon.”

“Give me your phone. We need to dial 9-1-1.”

“They are doing it now. They are sending us help.”

“We don’t need help. You need to give me the phone. The
police need to get to Tina’s house. Mel is there and she might still be alive.
Give me the cell phone. He can’t get away with this. They need to catch him and
I’m still a little drunk. I want to go over there to blow the bastard to hell
the way he did Tina but I’d probably go to prison for killing him while
inebriated. I can’t believe this is happ—”

“Be quiet,” Brawn suddenly hissed softly.

“I know I—”

A hand clamped over her mouth and he spun her around, just
yanking her body tightly against his. One of his arms looped around her waist
and his breath fanned her ear. His long hair tickled her arm.

“Someone is downstairs,” he whispered.

Terror slammed into her…but it might be her father. Maybe
he’d heard Boomer bark or the sound of the gun going off. Boomer never barked
at night and while the gunshot had sounded faint, unlike anything she’d ever
heard, her dad was an expert with weapons. He’d know how all of them sounded
when fired and would have identified it instantly.

He’d check on her first and come armed, since he slept with
weapons in his nightstand drawer. Hell, he’d put the gun in Becca’s in case
anyone ever broke in the house. It was always loaded, the safety off, ready to
fire. She wanted to tell Brawn who it could be but his hand over her mouth
prevented that.

Becca jumped when a noise came from below, a weird one that
she’d never heard before and she had no idea what would cause it. It was kind
of a soft motor sound and then there was a squishy sound, not a good one. Her
father would have pounded up the stairs, searching for her. He would be worried
sick and come after her like a charging bull to protect her.

Her heart hammered harder when it sank it that it wasn’t her
father down there making the noises. Brawn’s hand over her mouth tightened and
so did his arm around her waist. Her toes left the floor as he hoisted her
higher up his tall body, backing them both inside his room.

“Don’t make a sound,” he breathed.

Becca kept her lips tightly sealed when the hand released
her mouth. He used it to very quietly close the bedroom door and twisted the
lock. He moved then, spun fast enough to make her dizzy and lifted her even
higher as her legs brushed the side of his bed when he maneuvered them into the
small bathroom.

“I smell four males inside your house.” He kept his voice
low so that only she would hear him. “I smell blood too but I think it’s from
an animal. I want you to sit on the floor in the corner and be very quiet. Do
not make a sound. Do you understand me? Nod if you do. Do not speak or shoot me
by accident.” He paused, one hand wrapped around hers and he tore the gun from
her fingers. “I’ll keep this. You are still inebriated.”

She nodded, not sure how he knew that but couldn’t protest.

He eased her down his body and metal clinked when he set the
gun down. Both his hands clutched at her, twisted her to face him, before he
let go to grip the top of her head. He gently pushed, urging her to get down.

Her hands brushed hot, naked chest when she used his body to
steady her trembling one. Adrenaline and the alcohol still in her system made
her movements unsteady. She lowered, her hands sliding on his skin until she
hit the cotton of his sweats and she realized that in any other circumstances
this would probably be indecent as she crouched before him until her face was
even with his groin.

Her back brushed the walls, it made her realize he’d
cornered her near the sink and wall rack for towels. He released her scalp as
he backed away. She lifted her chin and barely detected his dark shadow move
until he reached the doorway where faint light from the main house’s
floodlights, which her father always kept on, made him easier to see,
illuminated somewhat even through the closed bedroom curtains in his room.

She crouched there, realized her nightshirt was wadded at
her waist and her bare legs were exposed. If a light was on Brawn would be able
to see her underwear and it was an undignified position with her legs spread
apart. She didn’t move though, afraid she’d fall over or make a sound. Help was
coming and Brawn was close. She wasn’t alone.

New Species had amazing hearing and night vision. Her father
had told her that once. The other thing he’d told her was that they had
bloodhound scent capability. That’s what he called it. He said most of them
could smell things that others couldn’t. Brawn had said he’d smelled four men
inside her house.

How does he know they are male?
She bit her lip to
prevent her from whispering the question to him. He had said he’d also smelled
animal blood.
Boomer.
He’d made that horrible sound before the barking
had halted.
Does he smell Boomer’s blood?
That thought sobered her a
lot.

She kept her gaze locked on the shadowy form of Brawn while
he bent over, grabbed something from under his bed and backed into the
bathroom. He remained there, as if he guarded her and it made her feel better
until a creaking noise reached her ears. She knew it was the third step from
the top. It always made that sound when stepped on and that meant someone was
coming up the stairs.

Nothing made sense. Why would the man who killed Tina be
inside her house? Brawn said he’d smelled four. If he said it, it was probably true.
The man who’d killed Tina couldn’t have broken into her house that fast, which
meant there were at least five of them. It might be a burglary ring targeting
the neighborhood. She wanted to warn Brawn but feared making a sound.