A chill slid down her spine. Not a dog or a wolf or anything else she’d ever seen in her life. This thing had the face of a lion, the ears of a dog and the horns of a goat. And, holy hell, it was wearing clothing. Dressed…like a man.
She shook her head, closed her eyes and opened them again, sure what she’d seen was a figment of her imagination. And that’s when she noticed that what the animals or things—she didn’t know what to call them—were feasting on wasn’t a carcass, but a human body.
In that instant, she was back in that empty lot, the hard, cold earth pressing into her back, the two powerful men tearing at her clothing as she screamed in futility and tried to get away. Sickness pooled in her stomach as she saw herself there on the ground with no one to help her.
Before she knew what she was doing, she jerked the car into neutral, pushed the door open and jumped screaming from the driver’s seat, arms waving wildly in an attempt to get the animals to leave the person alone.
Four sets of glowing green eyes turned her way as she ran at them. Four low growls echoed in her ears. It wasn’t until she was nearly on top of them that common sense finally kicked in and she realized she was in deep shit.
She skidded to a halt and froze.
The closest rose to his feet, and she saw, with vivid clarity, that he did indeed have the body of a man. Only he was huge. Easily seven feet tall and close to three hundred pounds, with crimson blood trailing down his face to drip onto his chest. The other three, equally large, rose quickly at his back and joined ranks behind him.
“Get back in your car, human. This does not concern you.”
Holy crap, it talked.
Cemented in place, all Casey could do was stare wide-eyed at something that couldn’t possibly be real. She glanced down at the man behind them, covered in blood, as the contents of her stomach lurched up her throat. “Oh, God. What—what happened here?”
The creature who’d spoken stopped midstep toward her. He sniffed, long and hard, as if trying to draw her into his lungs. His eyes widened, and something like shock, or maybe recognition—if you could call it that—raced across his catlike face before he turned and spoke in garbled words to the three at his back.
They all stared at her in wonder and then, in a puff of smoke, disintegrated into thin air.
Casey gave her head a swift shake. Smacked her hand against her forehead. Told herself what she’d just seen couldn’t possibly be real. Good Lord, she needed to stop purchasing those vampire romances for her grandmother’s store.
When the man on the ground moaned, Casey glanced down sharply. No matter what had happened, there was definitely a man hurt in front of her.
Head still spinning, she rushed to him, dropped to her knees and stared down at his face. The Greek god. From the club. The one who’d swept out of there with that blonde woman in his arms like a knight in shining armor. He was hurt bad. Cut and bruised and bloody over nearly every part of his body. For a moment, Casey didn’t know what to do. Then he tried to move, and her brain kicked into gear.
“No, don’t get up. Oh, God. I’m going to call for help. You’re—” She forced back the bile. “What happened to you?”
“No…help,” he croaked in a deeply accented voice. “Rest. Just…need…rest.”
The man was delirious. He needed a hospital and a gallon of blood and doctors who knew what to do to help him. Good God, were those bites on his arms? It looked as though his flesh had been gnawed clear to the bone.
She tried to keep him still, but even hurt as he was, he was too strong for her. He pushed up so he was sitting. His head lolled around like it might just fall off his body.
“Please,” he rasped. “Just…get me out of here before they come back.”
At those words, Casey looked up and around. There was no wind, no crickets chirping or cars moving on the street beyond. No other people either. The woman he’d left the club with had vanished. There was only silence. An eerie, strange silence completely at odds with the normal night sounds of Silver Hills, Oregon.
Since he was already rising to his feet, she helped him by slipping an arm around his back and draping one of his over her shoulder. By some grace of God they made it to her car, though she wasn’t entirely sure how. As he dropped into the passenger seat like a ton of dead weight, Meatloaf pumped out of the stereo, singing about what he’d do for love. Casey grunted as she lifted the man’s legs inside the car and shut the door after him.
Nausea continued to pool in her stomach as she hustled around to the driver’s side, but she stopped at her open door and momentarily thought of the blonde again.
She glanced over the asphalt to the empty lot beyond and the copse of trees that turned to forest past that. Where the hell was she? Casey considered looking for her, but the man moaned once more, the sound pulling at her attention.
“Please,” he croaked out. “Hurry. They’ll be back.”