Viper (Sons of Sangue)

by Patricia A. Rasey

  “You got some fucked-up desire to go to battle with the locals, Hawk?” Kane faced his twin full on, fists on hips. “If this one follows the last two cases, the sheriff's office has already been tipped off. It’s not likely they’ll be far behind. We get rid of the body and they’ll be all over us. We fought too hard to co-exist. We keep trouble outside the limits; they turn a blind eye when it comes to us and our activities. We get rid of this body and that tenuous truce will end.”

  Kaleb indicated the dirt mound with the tip of his chin. “So what the hell are you doing? Doesn’t look like you’re waiting for the cops to me.”

  He turned his back on Kaleb, knelt before the body and ignored his twin. He didn’t need to answer to anyone, leastwise Kaleb. Although he knew his twin was correct, that he shouldn’t be disturbing the evidence, he had to see if this victim followed the previous profiles. As he brushed more dirt away from the face, he revealed matted, long ash-blonde hair, red lipstick smudged across a pale white cheek, neck slit ear to ear.

  Son of a bitch. Lightning lit the sky, eerily illuminating the face he had just uncovered, followed by a crack of thunder. Kane hardened his jaw, hearing Kaleb’s answering whistle. Not only was she the same description as the last two victims, she was Kane’s current—scratch that, he’d now be needing to find a new one—blood donor.

  This shit just got personal.

  * * *

  “Detective Brahnam?” Dispatcher Reeves poked his head into her office.

  Cara glanced up from the file she perused. The dispatcher’s brown hair appeared lightly streaked with blond in the fluorescent lighting as it fell over his darker brows, making him look even younger than his twenty-two years, fresh out of the academy and new to their force. He had an enthusiasm for the job that Cara could appreciate.

  “We got an anonymous call again. Phone number traces back to a cell, just like last time. Looks like we might have another dumped body.”

  Her breath caught. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. Not another murder. They still had to figure out what the hell had happened to the last two victims. Throat slit, that part they understood. But nearly every ounce of blood had been drained from both women, that part they didn’t. Both bodies showed very few signs of postmortem lividity, the settling of the remaining blood to the lower regions of the body. There hadn’t been much blood left to settle. No rope burns could be found to indicate if the bodies had been hung upside down and bled out. In theory, if the throat had been sliced, the body then moved and dumped, a small amount of blood would still remain in the body, more than had been left it both victims combined. The medical examiner had said, “It’s the damnedest thing.”

  Cara had her own theories, but she didn’t dare voice them. They’d undoubtedly take her away in a straight jacket. Ten years ago she had been a witness to something … a nightmare she had put at the back of her mind, one that she tried to explain away as a figment of an overactive teenage imagination. After all, vampires weren’t real. She had even tried to convince herself that the man at the center of those nightmares didn’t exist either. But ten years later, she came back to Pleasant, accepted a job as detective with the Lane County Sheriff's Office after serving six years with the city PD in Eugene, and ran smack dab into the enigma. Kane hadn’t aged, only appeared more menacing if truth be told. Cara kept her distance for personal and professional reasons. Lane County's Sheriff's Office knew the Sons of Sangue's clubhouse, of which Kane was the President, was located within city limits. Well before her time on the force, the Sheriff’s Office had an unwritten agreement with them: keep any and all violence out of town and the S.O. would look the other way. After all, no one with half a brain would go up against an OMC without knowing there would be backlash. This kept the town of Pleasant, for the most part, violence free.

  Until now.

  Cara slapped the file closed, stood and grasped her light jacket from the coat tree. “Whereabouts?”

  “North Fork Road. Just before you get to Bender Landing County Park."

  “You trace the call?”

  “GPS on the cell says Main Street near Tom’s Deli.”

  “Send two deputies out there. See if they can find a witness to anyone making a call from that area. Tell them if they find the cell, not to touch it, but secure it until a tech comes. We need to print it. Damn it,” she cursed, jamming her arms into her jacket sleeves. “Anyone else know about this yet?”

  “Only you, Detective.”

  “Call the sheriff, let him know we have another possible homicide.”

  Cara headed for the door, Dispatcher Reeves backing out, his eyes beaming with excitement. She knew he couldn’t wait until he could hit the streets as a deputy. Jeff Reeves had already finished the required courses, but with the current state of the economy, there had been no room on the force for new hires for deputies. Lane County's Sheriff’s Office operated on too few deputies as it was. The last round of layoffs had nearly crippled the office.

  “You want me to call Hernandez?”

  Cara nodded, not hiding her answering grimace. Joe wasn’t going to be happy. “Looks like we’re going to have to cut my partner’s downtime short.”

  Joe had left the S.O. two hours prior, hoping to catch some alone time with his wife since the kids were at his mother’s for the day. She’d no doubt catch shit for interrupting his sex life and remind Cara of her lack thereof. But she didn’t have time for relationships. Besides, in her experience, sex was highly overrated anyway.

  “Tell him to meet me out there. I’ll grab the spotlights. It’ll be black as sin by the time I make the drive. Have two deputies meet us. I’ll need to get as much collected as possible. A storm is supposed to hit the area at any moment.”

  Reeves trotted off to do her bidding. He’d make a good deputy someday. For now, the kid had to bide his time until the economic crunch took an upswing. Cara walked to the back of the office, grabbed two of the large spotlights along with tripods, and exited through the rear of the building. As she pushed the remote, the lights on her car blinked twice and the trunk popped open. Cara quickly checked to see if the collection kits were well-stocked, then added the lights and tripods, slamming the lid down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  "Well, like I said—"

  "Not funny, Joe."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Chapter 2

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

  That someone put a large target on his back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  "What's got you preoccupied?"

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

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