The beast that had attacked the roadhouse sprawled on the only flat stretch of ground next to the cold, rushing river. In the darkness it was difficult to say exactly what it was even now.
Bowman’s wolf sight had shown him fur, with enormous bearlike paws, but there was definitely something snakelike about its body, and that might be the stump of a wing. Bowman hadn’t seen any wings when he’d been fighting it at the roadhouse, but he’d been busy, there hadn’t been much light, and a stumpy wing didn’t mean the monster could fly.
Bowman put his hand on Kenzie’s head, drawing comfort from her presence. She always came to his side. Always.
The crashing and banging behind them meant Gil was coming down. His lantern flashed, showing that the wing stump had some feathering on it. Gil stopped, breathing hard, next to Bowman.
“Damn.” The man shone the flashlight around, its thick beam cutting the darkness. “That is one ugly, stinking mo fo. You sure it’s dead?”
“Looks dead. Smells dead.” Bowman nudged the hairy paw with his bare foot. “Yep. Dead.”
“What the hell is it?”
“I don’t know,” Bowman said. He didn’t like not knowing. All kinds of dangerous shit happened from not knowing.
“Did you kill it?” Gil asked. “When you hit it with the truck, I mean. Injure it beyond recovery?”
“I don’t think so.” Bowman remembered the beast crashing into the windshield, and the truck’s roof coming down on him. “It ran off, but it wasn’t that hurt. Something else happened.”
“The truck’s driver maybe,” Gil said. “Or whoever hired him. Its work was done, so they finished it off?”
Bowman shook his head. “Why bother to create, or find and trap, a huge, terrifying creature only to kill it? I’d doctor its injuries and keep it to fight another day.”
“Yeah, me too,” Gil said. “I’d love to know what it is and what killed it, though. I’d call my local medical examiner, but I think the guy would have a coronary if he came out here and saw this.”
“We need to study it,” Bowman said. “Find out everything we can. If not a human coroner, how about a veterinarian?”
“Hmm.” Gil pursed his lips. “You know one with a strong stomach?”
“I have one in mind,” Bowman said. “Let’s get up the hill, and I’ll give her a call.”
He felt Kenzie move, and looked down to see her glaring up at him. He hid his amusement. He liked that Kenzie grew jealous sometimes, because it meant she wanted him around. Indifference would have been much harder to bear.
Didn’t mean he couldn’t tease her about it, though. Teasing Kenzie was just too damn much fun.
* * *
“Oh my God,” Dr. Pat said. She had her hands over her nose, her eyes watering, as she looked at the body in the narrow canyon.
It was the next morning, the sun was high enough to filter down to the river bottom, and everyone at the site was dressed. Dr. Pat had agreed, when Bowman had called her, to come out and take a look at the dead animal, but said she couldn’t possibly get there until morning. Therefore Kenzie, Bowman, and Gil had spent an uncomfortable night in Gil’s car, pulled up close enough to the ravine so they could watch to see if anyone came for the creature.
At least, Kenzie had been uncomfortable, and now her eyes felt sandy, her muscles aching. Bowman, stretched out in the backseat because of his healing injury, had dropped off into peaceful sleep. Or at least, he’d pretended to.
Bowman hadn’t even suggested that Kenzie go home to a soft bed. She wouldn’t leave him, not when he was still hurt, and he knew it, not even if they summoned Cade or Jamie to reprieve her. And neither of them fully trusted Gil yet. So Kenzie stayed.
She called Ryan before they settled in and told him to stay with Cade, which Ryan had no problem with. He was getting to be of an age when having friends and fun was more important than clinging to his parents. He’d sounded worried though—about them, not himself. Ryan was also old enough to realize that his mom and dad did a dangerous job.
Gil proved to be a good conversationalist as the night lengthened. He was well-read and intelligent, and knew many things. Not from education, he said. He’d never been to college. He just liked to read . . . everything. He wrote a little too, he said modestly. Nothing anyone would know.
He had way too good of an attitude, Kenzie thought. Sitting up all night babysitting an oversized corpse, waiting for the vet or maybe a villain to show up, didn’t faze him. Gil had plenty of topics at the ready to discuss, but he knew when to let Kenzie doze. She awoke in the morning to find him humming a tune in his throat, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He couldn’t have slept much, but he looked refreshed.