Blood Storm Read online

  Blood Storm

  by

  Deb Sanders

  Copyright 2011 by Deb Sanders

  This book is a work of fiction by the author. Any resemblance to actual events, persons living or dead, is coincidental.

  To Jamie and Michelle

  who began the journey with me

  Chapter One

  Palm fronds spiked black against the desert sky, reflecting in the cool, blue water lapping around the man’s waist. It was his favorite time of day and what better place to spend it than in a beautifully landscaped swimming pool? The sunset spilled brilliant orange, gold and dusky purple across the horizon, swirling them together like oil and water. It wouldn’t be long before night snuffed the light from the heavens.

  The analogy brought a smile to the man’s face.

  He glanced down at the hands gripping his wrists. Fingers clawed and thrashed through the water, splashing droplets against his heated skin. It felt nice. Refreshing. He turned his attention to the urns near the stone walk, admiring the mass of vibrant blooms as muffled screams sent bubbles jettisoning to the surface. Enough of this. With lightning speed, he grabbed and twisted the submerged head. Peering through the ripples, he watched the light in Dr. Robert Merrill’s eyes dim and go out as the sun slipped behind the mountain peaks.

  Beautiful. Just like the diminuendo following a powerful crescendo. He’d given the doc a lovely death. It called for a celebratory toast. Where does Merrill keep the good Scotch?

  “Dad?”

  The man’s head jerked up as his eyes flew to the house. Shit. Is that Kate?

  What the hell was she doing in Las Vegas? She was supposed to be in San Francisco. Merrill said nothing about his daughter visiting.

  “Where are you, Dad?”

  The lights from the living room shone through the window as he pushed the lifeless body away and scrambled from the pool. Damn the luck. She could ruin everything. The man ran toward the garden, ducking behind a wall of Elephant Ear plants as outdoor lighting illuminated the patio.

  The low swish of the sliding door warned of Kate’s impending discovery. He’d hoped the body would remain undetected until morning. She turned a knob on a small retaining wall and a trail of orbs instantly glowed on each step leading down to the pool. His eyes widened as he spied a trail of wet footsteps leading to his hiding spot.

  “Fuck!” It was muttered under his breath but he still tensed, waiting to see if she heard.

  He watched Kate toss long dark hair over one shoulder before pausing at the top of the walk to survey the perimeter. Shapely legs and hips silhouetted through the sheer gathers of a flowing skirt. A familiar swell reminded him how much he was attracted to Robert Merrill’s daughter. How much he wanted to taste her honeyed flesh and drive his throbbing need inside her. Over and over. Until she begged for mercy. Until he choked the pleas from her throat.

  He licked his lips. Dear, sweet, delectable Kate. Oh, yes, experiencing her dying quiver as he spilled his seed inside her would be a dream come true. He fought against the urge to leap from the garden and take her right there, dumping her body in the pool next to her father so they could float together into the afterlife. If there was one.

  Taking a deep breath, he hunkered lower, forcing himself to stay put. Tonight was not about him. He’d already set the stage for Robert’s death to be ruled accidental. It was far too dangerous to alter the plan now.

  Kate began to descend the path, her low heeled sandals clicking on each stone as she approached the pool. The damp prints left by his hasty exit had evaporated a little but were still visible across the smooth concrete. If she saw them . . .

  “Dad?” He saw her eyes widen as she neared the sculpted edge. “Dad!”

  Her voice rose to a shrill scream as Kate jumped into the pool, treading through the waist deep water to where her father floated face down. Turning the lifeless body over, she took one look at his face and froze. It was as if the blood evaporated from her veins. And then he heard it. A low, hoarse wail that rose in intensity until he was sure he’d have to kill her just to stop the God awful sound.

  Nothing worse than a hysterical female. Except she wasn’t hysterical. She was moaning, shaking her head, trying to wade from the pool. Each time she stumbled, she would bob back up and take another step. At last, she stood shivering at the edge, staring at her father’s vacant gaze. Her body heaved with sobs but no sound came out.

  Damn. He respected the hell out of Kate. There was a strength in her not common with women her age. But this was incredible. Glorious. Look at how she’s absorbing the grief like a damn sponge. Shit, if he was capable of feeling such emotion, he’d want to be just like her.

  His legs began to cramp. He was afraid to move, shift his weight, for fear she might hear. Fuckin’ A . . . Kate. Go inside and call the goddamn police, for Chrissakes!

  After what seemed like an hour but was probably only five minutes, she stood up and made her way toward the house. Thank God. He could slip out through the side gate before the cops arrived. The light from the patio illuminated her taut points, protruding from the wet tank top like beacons in the night. Once again, he experienced a surge of desire. This time he groaned. Loud. It didn’t matter. She was already in the house.

  I will have you, Kate. Make no mistake. I don’t know when or where, but one day soon I will have you. And when I do, I intend to fuck the life right out of you.

  Chapter Two

  The blizzard roared like a hell bound demon outside the icy window where Kate Merrill rested her head. She didn’t want to wake up. Didn’t want to acknowledge the urgent warning thrumming inside her head.

  Open your eyes. Stay awake . . . if you want to live.

  Her lids fluttered and closed. Sleep. She needed to sleep. A gust of cold air sliced across her face, prying her eyes open with icy fingers. Edging up on one elbow, Kate winced as the stiff needles of a pine bough brushed against her cheek.

  Her mind imploded with disjointed thoughts, none of which made any sense. Instinct told her something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

  Sucking in a mouth full of frosty air, Kate struggled to control her senses. Everything was spinning, including her stomach. A dull throb near her temple kept pace with her heartbeat. She touched the spot, jerking her hand away when a warm, sticky substance covered her fingers. Blood.

  Alarm shot through her like a misguided bullet. Kate pushed to an upright position, grimacing as her head banged into crumpled metal.

  What the...?

  Bits of glass and metal littered the floor. She shivered again, glancing at snow covered bark through a broken window. A second gust of wind sent a flurry of loose papers scurrying around her feet.

  Shards of horrific images exploded through her mind as she remembered bits and pieces of details. The small Cessna she’d chartered a few hours ago was no longer battling an unsettled atmosphere. It had crashed.

  Kate fought to remain calm, forcing her fingers to unfasten the seatbelt which had jammed during impact. Her composure quickly dissipated as the lock refused to open. Panic knotted her stomach and crept like a silent marauder along each tendon as she tugged on the metal to no avail. Taking a deep breath, she jerked at the clasp a second time. It opened, sending her flying against the forward seat. Her cold hands pushed against the leather back as she tried to stabilize against the gravitational pull. The plane must be nose down. Shifting to one side, Kate winced as a sharp pain pierced her thigh.

  “Damn!” The jagged end of the pine bough had torn her trouser and pierced the skin. A burst of sticky saliva spilled into her mouth.

  She tried to straighten her leg but the movement embedded the branch deeper into her thigh. All she could think about was removing the source of the pain. Kate grabbed the limb with both
hands and gave it a quick yank. Her body convulsed as a searing, white heat shot through her.

  Blood oozed from the wound, staining her pants dark crimson. She pulled back the torn fabric to examine her injury in the fading light, relieved to discover it had missed the main artery. But it still hurt like hell!

  “There must be something around here I can use as a tourniquet.”

  Tiny beads of sweat formed along her brow as she glanced about the cabin. Her gaze settled on a woolen scarf still looped around the handle of her canvas duffle bag. Steeling herself against the pain that seemed to resonate with each heartbeat, she mentally prepared for movement.

  One...two... “Three.”

  A muffled cry spilled from her lips as she scooted to the back of the cockpit. She grabbed the end of the pink scarf and pulled it toward her.

  Her khaki slacks were soaked with warm blood by the time Kate knotted the scarf around her thigh. The term “going into shock” suddenly bore a new meaning.

  Wasn’t she supposed to stay warm to offset the effects? And how in the hell could she manage that in the middle of a blizzard?

  A blast of cold air swept through the cabin as if on cue, serving as an instant stimulant. Kate shivered and tugged her coat tighter. She forced herself to remain calm while she assessed the situation. Her fingers were numb, an indication that frostbite was already damaging her skin.

  Digging into the pockets of her parka, she pulled out insulated gloves and quickly tugged them over her frozen hands. She wiggled her toes, thankful she could still feel them. At least she had the foresight to wear thick socks and boots instead of her usual flip flops.

  Her temple still throbbed from the small gash near her hairline. How long had she been unconscious? Where was the pilot? She shifted her body to face the cockpit.

  “Pete?” Kate inched toward a limp form slumped across the seat in front of her. “Pete. . .are you okay?” She gave his coat a half hearted tug, knowing instinctively he could not respond.

  The pilot’s head fell back at an odd angle to his body. She stared in horror at the mutilated face still bearing slivers of broken windshield. His frozen, glassy eyes seemed to stare right through her. Kate recoiled, her scream severing the blizzard’s howling assault as she tumbled backwards through the door.

  Kate coughed and sputtered as the wet snow gathered on her face. She was on her back, staring up at the mangled carcass of the Cessna. The open door to the cockpit swung back and forth over the plane’s twisted wing, clanging eerily against the metal like a mission bell warning of imminent danger.

  The plane shifted a few inches from where it was wedged between two trees. Kate jerked up, crawling through the snow until she was clear of the wreckage. Panic curdled in the back of her mouth.

  “I’m in trouble.”

  It was a sobering admission. Her only hope of survival hung fifteen feet in the air. She glanced up through a swirling patch of white. The plane was too high for her to reach.

  Struggling to her feet, Kate headed toward a large Ponderosa pine. The low hanging boughs would serve as a make shift shelter until she could come up with a plan. Oblivious to the cold, she sank to the ground and rested her back against the trunk. Her gaze travelled between the wreckage and her leg, where red ice crystals were beginning to form on the fabric. Her strength was fading fast, ebbing like the pounding surf outside her home in northern California.

  I can’t die. There’s too much at stake.

  She fought to stay awake, forcing herself to concentrate on the package concealed in the backpack next to her. The reason she had chartered the plane. She didn’t even know what she was transporting but clearly someone was willing to kill for it.

  I won’t let you down, Dad. I promise.

  A stick. She needed a big stick to use as a crutch if she was going to hike out of the forest. Kate glanced helplessly at the tall trees in every direction. Which way should she go? She exhaled, watching the puff of air turn to frosty vapor.

  “I just need a minute to catch my breath.”

  The pain eased with each snowflake dusting her leg. At least she was out of the wind. She rested her head against the tree and took a deep breath. It was almost peaceful.

  Beyond the umbrella of pine boughs she could see the blizzard’s swirling assault on the small Cessna. The storm seemed to be getting stronger.

  “Time to...go.”

  Her slurred command went unheeded. With a final tremor, Kate sank into a black abyss.

  Chapter Three

  “You’re awake.”

  Kate blinked at the man hovering in the doorway. Where was she? Who was this man and why did she feel like she’d just collided with a freight train?

  Fighting off a wave of dizziness, she searched for something to use as a weapon. Her fingers twitched as she spied a heavy looking lamp on the bedside table. She began to inch closer to the edge of the bed. If she could just reach it before he had a chance to react . . .

  The sheet slipped from her fisted hands. She froze. I’m naked. Her gaze flew to the stranger. He’s half naked. A towel circled his hips, hanging low on his waist. Golden hair spiked against a wide forehead, like he’d just gotten out of the shower. His upper body still glistened with beaded water, accentuating every ripple of his well toned abs.

  Yanking the bedcovers to her neck, Kate battled a deluge of emotions. Fear, shock, embarrassment – and admiration for the hard bodied man in front of her who seemed to have no problem with the intimate surroundings. What had she done? What had they done?

  “Who are you?” she croaked, shrinking as far away from him as possible. “How did I get here?”

  “I rescued you.”

  It was a simple statement but did little to ease her agitation. “You rescued me?”

  The man moved slowly toward the dresser, retrieving his wallet from the top and flipping it open. He held up an official looking badge.

  “I’m a Wilderness First Responder. Sort of like an EMT for remote areas. You’re at my cabin in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.”

  Mountains? Great! Stuck in some God forsaken outpost with Paul Bunyan.

  She swallowed the bile building in her throat. What was she doing in the mountains? Nothing made much sense. “How long have I been here?”

  “Two days.”

  Two days? Panic tightened her chest. “I want my clothes.”

  Silence fell between them like an impenetrable wall. Kate wrapped the blanket around her before attempting to swing her legs to the floor. The movement sent shockwaves of pain racing through her. She groaned and fell back against the pillow.

  “I wouldn’t move if I were you.”

  She shot him a withering look which didn’t appear to faze him.

  “You’re pretty banged up. There’s a laceration on your thigh and a nasty bump to your head. Nothing life threatening but you’re gonna hurt like hell for the next couple of days. That was quite a crash you walked away from.”

  “Crash?”

  She wrecked her car. That must be why she felt bruised. But it still didn’t explain how she’d wound up naked in a strange man’s bed. Granted, he had a body that could qualify for Mr. December on a Chippendale’s calendar but that was beside the point.

  Or was it? He was perhaps the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on. Had she slept with him? And if she had, who could blame her? Her gaze followed the dark shadow spilling across his chest to where it disappeared under the towel. If he moved an inch, his wrap would fall off . . . and from the way the terry cloth was bulging, it would be an impressive sight.

  The man straightened and tugged the towel tighter, a dusky crimson flashing across his cheeks. He quickly excused himself. When he returned a few minutes later, he was dressed in a dark wool shirt and jeans.

  “It’s nice to see you conscious,” he drawled casually. “You had a pretty rough time last night.”

  “How did my car run off the road?”

  He stared at her until she dropped her gaze self consc
iously. Why was he looking at her like that?

  “Do you remember what happened?”

  Kate licked her lips, concealing a wave of nausea that made the room spin. Her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the sheet.

  “I . . . I can’t seem to recall the details.”

  She sank further under the covers. The simple action made her wince in pain. Her head hurt, her body ached and she wanted to go back to sleep. She’d had enough eye candy for one day.

  He eased into the room and sat a black bag on the bedside table before withdrawing a stethoscope. Kate recoiled when he tried to push the sheet aside.

  “I’m just checking your vitals,” he retorted dryly. After warming the shiny, metal orb between his hands, he placed it on her chest.

  “I’m fine,” she muttered indignantly.

  “Be quiet a minute.” He moved the stethoscope around, ordering her to breathe deeply.

  She kept a firm grip on the blanket, forcing him to work beneath the cover. As he listened intently to the air flowing through her lungs, she peeked at his features. He bore a natural ruggedness that suited him. From the bronze tone of his skin, she guessed he worked outside. What did he say he was? Some kind of ranger?

  “Where are my clothes?” she asked again when he sat back, seemingly satisfied with the results.

  “They’re a bit of a mess. You fared better than your outerwear.” He leaned in to check her eyes and ears. “How’s the head?”

  “It’s still attached.”

  An amused grin broke across his chiseled features, sending a strange warmth coursing through her.“I can see that. Are you having any dizziness or nausea?”

  “No,” she lied. “I’m fine.”

  “Good. Then we should exchange names. Mine’s Sam Holden. And you are . . . ?”

  She frowned and dropped her gaze.

  “Do you remember your name?”

  “Of course,” she snapped. “It’s Kate.” Was that her name? It sounded familiar but she couldn’t be sure.