by Jane Jamison
“Have you?” challenged Paul.
“Yes, I have.”
“And what did it look like?”
“It looked kind of like a dog only more skeletal and without fur. It has these ridges or spine things running down its back.” She hated how she’d sounded. “Not it. My mother. I think I saw my mother’s eyes turn red, too.” She did her best to recall all the details, but her mother had been hidden in the alley’s shadows.
“Are you sure what you saw wasn’t a dog? Or maybe a coyote?”
She wanted to hurl curses at Wick yet there was a softening, a questioning on his face that gave her hope that he was finally beginning to believe her. “I know what I saw. It—my mother—wasn’t a dog or a coyote.” She narrowed her eyes. “Or even a wolf.” She wasn’t sure why she’d added the last part.
“And your mother has been changed into one of them?” Paul frowned, yet she could see his determination weaken as he started to believe her.
“Yes. Damn it. I saw her change. I saw her transform from a woman into that creature.”
Chapter Four
“Okay,” said Paul. “Let’s assume what you’re telling us is the truth.”
If Tasha gritted her teeth any harder, she’d break one. “It is the truth. Either you believe me or you don’t.”
“We’re not saying we don’t,” added Wick. “It’s just that we’ve never seen one. Especially around Forever.” He glanced at Paul. “Still, we’ve heard stories…”
“Which is why I doubt”—Paul lifted his hands defensively—“that it’s real. If anyone would’ve seen one, especially around these parts, it’s us. Some myths really are only myths.”
“Yeah, but stranger things have happened.” Shane seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts as though trying to solve a problem. A frown worried his brow. “She’s right. We don’t know everything, and I doubt we’ve seen everything.”
“We have when it comes to Forever,” asserted Paul.
“My mother was bitten and changed overseas, not here.”
“Not in Forever, huh?” Shane shot a look at the others. “That makes a difference, right? We don’t know what might exist in other countries.”
“I don’t get it. You act like you three are experts on the shape-shifters. Are you? Because if you’re not, then you can’t say for a fact that chupacabras don’t exist. I know for a fact that they do. I saw my mother change.”
“Again, she has a point,” added Shane. “We’ve seen a lot, but we haven’t seen everything. Not by a long shot, I’ll bet. Besides, if she says she saw her mother change, then I believe her. What would be the point of her making this shit up?”
“True enough.” Paul crossed his arms, a look of consideration coming to his face. “So you’re out hunting for your mother every night. But how do you know she’s here? And how do you think you’re going to catch a chupacabra? To catch her? What are you planning on doing? Running over her with the ATV? Shooting her in the ass then taking her back to the camper and tucking into your bed? Or do you think you can just whistle and expect her to come to you?”
“Damn it, Paul, don’t be an asshole,” warned Wick.
She was on her feet, clenching her hands. “My mother is a notable scientist. She was doing research when she was bitten. When I met with her and she told me what had happened, she gave me a tracking device and told me to recover her body if she was killed.”
“Why didn’t she stay with you in the first place?” asked Paul. “Why doesn’t she come to you now that you’re here?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she’s trying to keep me safe. She told me she was going to somewhere around Forever. I don’t know everything that’s going on, but I know enough to believe what my mother said. There are people after her. I saw them. I don’t know if they want her technology, or if they want her because of what she now is. All I know is that I have to find her before they do. Before it really is her dead body I find. Look, if you don’t want to help me, then just say so.”
“Take it easy, darlin’,” cooed Shane. “This is a lot to take in.”
She’d had it with them. Her hopes of them helping her were gone.
“Darlin’, give us some time to let this sink in,” asked Shane. “To come up with a plan.”
She studied Shane. Of the three of them, he seemed ready to believe her.
“Yeah, sugar,” added Paul.
She didn’t need them. After all, she’d started on the mission by herself, and she’d end it by herself. “You know what? Fuck you. I don’t need your help, and I don’t want it.”
“Don’t go being like that, sugar.” Paul stood, ready to take her into her arms. “You know we’ll help you, but we don’t want to jump into this thing half-cocked. Do you know anything about the people who are after her?”
She backed away, unwilling to be touched. “No. But it has to be for one reason or the other. Either they’re after some kind of new technology she’s devised, or they want her for what she’s become.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time people have tried to capture a”—Wick stalled, suddenly watching his words—“a special kind of animal.”
She whirled around and headed for the door. They came after her, as she knew they would, but she turned to confront them. “Back the hell off. I’ll get my camper and be off your land as soon as I can.”
“Baby, come on. Let’s talk.”
“Don’t call me baby.” She looked back once more then slammed the door in the faces. To make matters worse, she had to fight the tears stinging her eyes as she hurried across the yard toward her camper.
* * * *
As he had done so often that day, Shane looked out the window and checked once again. “Well, at least she hasn’t moved yet.” To his relief, the camper was still in the same place.
“Hopefully, she changed her mind. Let’s let her cool off a bit before we approach her again.” Paul flipped open the barrel of the gun, checked to see that it was empty, then flipped it shut. As a rule, werewolves didn’t like guns and usually didn’t own them, but Paul was the exception. Not that Shane understood it, but his brother like to go target shooting.
They hadn’t spoken much since Tasha had left. Shane wasn’t happy about the silence between them, but he knew it wouldn’t last long. Sooner or later, they’d have to talk about what she’d told them. He guessed now was as good a time as any.
“So? What do you think about what she told us?” asked Shane.
“Her mother is a chupacabra.” Wick chuckled as he plopped the Horseman magazine he’d been reading back on the coffee table. “I don’t know about you two, but that’s was one hell of a story. Strangest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Does that mean you don’t believe her?” Shane intended to ease into the truth. Until now, he’d never mentioned what he’d seen. Until now, until after Tasha had described her mother, he’d believed something entirely different.
“I’m not saying that. But, damn it, we’ve lived here all of our lives, and I’ve never seen anything like what she’s talking about. According to what I’ve found online, a chupacabra is a doglike creature that has spines jutting out along his back. The thing has red eyes and has no fur. That’s exactly how Tasha described it. Even stranger, it’s supposed to suck the blood from all of its prey. Kind of like a vampire dog.”
At least Paul had done a little research. Which, to Shane’s thinking, meant he, too, had accepted Tasha’s story. “Just because we haven’t seen one, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”
“Yeah, it kind of does.” Wick put his boots on top of the coffee table. He let out a breath. “Or at least, it used to.”
“A lot of people would say that about werewolves. They’ve never seen one, so they don’t believe they exist. We know better than anyone that there are a lot of things in this world that remained hidden. That doesn’t mean they aren’t real.”
Both his brothers stopped what they were doing and coolly regarded him. But he’d gone too far to tur
n back now.
Paul’s eyes narrowed. “We believe her. But why do I get the feeling you’re trying to tell us something more?”
“Yeah, Paul’s dead-on. You’re hiding something. Just spit it out.”
Shane stuck his hands in his pockets and wished he’d told his brothers a long time ago. But after that night when he’d almost run headlong into the animal, he’d talked himself into believing it had been a coyote. A mean-looking one, but he’d barely gotten a look at the animal before it had vanished into the bushes. Plus, he’d drunk a shitload of tequila before he’d shifted and gone for the run. Then, as time passed, he’d simply forgotten about it. Until now.
He ground his teeth, reconsidered, then blurted out the truth. “I’ve think I’ve seen one.” Red eyes. No fur. “Yeah. I’ve seen a chupacabra.”
“That’s bullshit,” challenged Paul. “Or is that your way of cozying up to Tasha?”
“Sorry, man, but I’m telling you the truth.”
“When did you see it?” asked Wick. “Are you telling us you’ve seen her mother?”
He shook his head, almost wishing he could’ve said yes. “No. It’s been a couple years, and at the time I wasn’t sure what I’d seen. But since we’ve been talking about chupacabras, I realize now that what I saw was one of them.”
“This happened two years ago and you’re just now telling us? That doesn’t make any sense.”
He could tell Paul was ticked off. That, perhaps, he was even hurt that Shane had kept a secret. “I was drunk and out running when I ran into the damn thing. It was a small animal, but strong as hell. Damn thing knocked me off my paws. Plus, it was dark, and the thing moved super-fast. I was still trying to figure out what had happened by the time it had already gone. We’re fast, but that animal was a hell of a lot faster than a werewolf. Later, I figured it had to have been a strange-looking coyote.”
Wick leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. “And now you think it was one of these things?” Wick stood and paced to the other side of the room. “This is fucked up, man. Damn it. Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”
“You screwed up. Why didn’t you say something back then?” asked Paul. “And why didn’t you say something in front of Tasha?”
Why hadn’t he? Yet Shane didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know. Like I said before, I chalked it up to my being drunk. At least, until now.”
The sound of horse’s neigh—too close to be coming from the barn—interrupted their conversation. Along with his brothers, Shane went to the window and looked out. “Shit. Is she serious?”
Wick chuckled. “I’d say she’s as serious as a heart attack.”
Tasha had led one of the horses out of the barn. “Why is she taking one of our horses? Why not take her ATV?” He jerked back from the window as she turned to look at the house.
“Maybe she thinks she’ll have better luck if she doesn’t have the sound of an engine scaring her mother off. Or maybe she’s trying to sneak out and thinks we’ll hear the motor turning over.”
Shane figured Paul was right. But whatever her reason, she was heading out on her own. No doubt, she was going after her mother.
He stepped away from the window and began taking off his clothes, getting ready to shift. As the transformation swept over him, the pain coming as it always did as his bones broke and reformed, he asked his brothers, “Are we following her or not?”
His question, however, was not needed. They’d already begun changing. More questions filtered through his half-wolf, half-human mind.
Can we keep up with her? And if they could, and she found her mother, what then?
* * * *
Tasha wasn’t sure that the men would see her taking a horse as “borrowing” it, but she’d had no other choice. If they heard her leave on the ATV, she was certain they would come after her. After saddling the horse—thank goodness for summer camp and riding lessons—then it leading out of the barn, she’d swung herself into the saddle, then looked to the house. If she was lucky, they wouldn’t come out to the barn. And even if they did, she could give the horse a good heel and get away before they could stop her. Even if they tried to follow her, she’d have a head start on them. They wouldn’t be able to track her in the dark and off the well-traveled paths. At least, she hoped they wouldn’t.
Or did she? Even now, as she leaned over the horse and urged it forward into the darkness, she wished she had the men beside her. If anyone could help her find her mother, it was them.
Locating her mother was proving harder than she’d ever thought it would be. The tracking device was useful, but every time she thought she’d found her mother, her mother would take off. The tracking blimp would move quickly across the screen.
Each time she went out, hoping she’d find her mother alive and well, she always ended up disappointed. At this point, she had to wonder if she should simply give up. Or wait until the awful day when she had to retrieve her mother’s dead body. Yet she couldn’t give up. As estranged as she and her mother were, she still cared for her. She still longed for a relationship.
If only I didn’t care.
“Where are you, Mother?” She glanced at the tracker, showing her mother in the nearby vicinity, then looked around her. How close was she? How accurate was the device? Yet, even without the tracker, she could feel in her bones that her mother was close by.
Was her mother hiding from her? Or did her mother not know her while she was in her animal body? Did the animal she became retain a sense of humanity? Even if she found her mother, would she have to use the gun to bring her to bay? Or would her attempts to locate her mother once again turn out to be futile?
She’d been riding for at least an hour when, suddenly, the horse reared up on its hind legs and kicked its front legs out, whinnying a terrified sound. A dark form streaked across the path in front of her. Tasha held on to the saddle horn, gripping it as tightly as possible to stay on top of the animal. The horse reared up again a second time, but this time Tasha was prepared.
“Whoa. Whoa there.”
The horse continued to dance, its ears flicking back and forth, trying to pick up the sound of an attacker. Tasha leaned over and patted the animal’s neck as she scanned the area. The moon was only half full, giving partial light.
“Easy, boy. Whatever it was is gone now.” Damn it. What if it was my mother?
Although she hadn’t gotten a good glimpse of what had dashed out in front of them, she sensed it was her mother. She was so close, yet so far.
She’d just gotten the horse to settle down when the animal reared yet again. Once more, the dark form raced across their path. The frightened horse, its nerves already jangled, rose up on his back legs for a third time. Tasha lost her grip. She let out a cry as she tumbled backward off the horse.
She hit the ground hard, the air knocked from her. For a moment, she lay there looking up at the night sky and wondering what had happened. The horse pranced nearby, jerking its head up and down several times as it snorted its fear. Then, without warning, the horse spun around and dashed down the path.
Tasha hurried to get on her feet and called out to the animal, but it was too late. The horse was long gone.
Shit. What the hell am I going to do now?
Gone was her ride. And, perhaps even worse, gone was her gun. She was alone and defenseless. Having hoped the horse could help her find their way back to the ranch house, she realized she had no sense of which direction to go.
“Damn it all to hell. I shouldn’t ever have taken that horse. At least the ATV wouldn’t have run off and left me.”
A low growl had her turning slowly around. Fear swept its way through her.
The animal stood at the edge of the path, half hidden by the brush. Red eyes glared at her. A long muzzle sported sharp fangs. As it stepped out onto the path, she had no doubt about what it was.
A chupacabra.
But was this her mother?
The beast crept slowly toward her, its head lowere
d as it crouched, ready to spring at her. The long furless tail dipped between its legs.
“Mom? Is that you?” she whispered. If it were her mother, would her mother still know her? And if it weren’t her mother, how would she defend herself?
Again, she wished that the men had come with her. If only her temper hadn’t gotten the best of her, maybe she could’ve convinced them that her story was real. But the time for that had passed.
She wasn’t sure what to do. Should she crouch lower to appear less threatening? Or should she make herself taller to appear more imposing?
Just as she was about to crouch and pray she was doing the right thing, the chupacabra snarled, its glowing red gaze shifting to a position over her shoulder. Tasha glanced behind her to find two men with rifles standing at the edge of the brushes. The moon was behind them, shadowing their faces.
Hoping she was right, hoping the chupacabra was indeed her mother, she put her body directly between the men and the animal. “Leave her alone,” she demanded.
“Kill her, too.” The man’s voice was gravelly and devoid of any emotion.
The chill of real fear stiffened her. Her mind screamed to get out of the way. She was risking her life for an animal that might not even be her mother. Yet she stayed where she was.
The darkness obscured their movements, but she sensed that they’d lifted the rifles to their shoulders, ready to fire. The animal behind her growled, but she didn’t turn. If the animal attacked her while her back was turned, then so be it. But she had to have faith that the beast was, in fact, her mother.
“Leave her alone. Leave us alone.” Yet she had no power, no real means to keep them from hurting them.
The men’s heads tilted to the side as though they were getting ready to aim their weapons. She closed her eyes, ready to accept her fate.
“Run, Mother. Run,” she whispered. She closed her eyes, unwilling to know the exact moment they fired. She got ready to feel the pain of the bullets slashing through her body.
Growls, more than any one animal could make, ripped into her. She jolted as though the growls had physically torn her apart. Were there other chupacabras? Was there a pack of them?
