The Rogue Hunter by Lynsay Sands Page B

to help out. She needed time to lick her wounds and rebuild her self-esteem, because—sadly enough—she'd allowed Tom to take that from her. She, who had been top of her class in high school, and on the dean's list in university. She, who had worked her butt off and earned her law degree and got a much-sought-after job… She had achieved all that on her own, and yet eight months of living with Tom had taken away her sense of achievement, her belief in herself, and left her feeling like an unattractive, useless drudge.
    Sam didn't know how that had come to pass. It wasn't like she could point to a day when he walked up and snatched it from her. It had been a gradual process; one incident after another, one letdown after another. Refrain after refrain, it had built up into an entire song—the "You Ain't Good Enough" blues.
    "And Mortimer's cute," Jo said, drawing her out of her thoughts and making her mouth tighten.
    "So was Tom," she pointed out dryly, and could feel both of her sisters staring at her, suddenly silent. After a moment, they both turned their attention to watching the people around them, and Sam let her breath out on a slow sigh as they let the subject drop. She was grateful for it. She was better on her own for now, Sam thought firmly. She would concentrate on her career, climb her way up the totem pole, and maybe go out dancing at the clubs once in a while with her sisters or friends to let off a little steam.
    "Where are we going?" Mortimer asked when Bricker led him all the way across the sand and right out of the group of par tiers onto a path through the trees.
    "Decker found someone with bite marks," Bricker announced over his shoulder. "At least we think they're bite marks, but we needed a flashlight to see it better. I told him you have a penlight. You do have it, don't you?"
    "Yes, of course." Mortimer reached into his pocket for the small penlight he always carried with him. It had come in handy countless times over the years, and he often wondered that none of the other enforcers bothered to get one. Maybe he'd get Bricker one for Christmas, he thought absently as he followed him into a small clearing where Decker waited with a young blond woman who looked no more than eighteen. Obviously presently being controlled, she stood docilely, her expression blank.
    "We've read her thoughts, but he's blanked them, of course," Decker announced as Mortimer stopped in front of the blond, switched on his penlight, and ran it quickly over her neck until it landed on the bite marks.
    "Of course," he murmured, peering at the marks for a moment before announcing, "They're fresh."
    "How fresh?" Decker asked, crowding up next to him to see the small marks under the penlight's beam for himself.
    "Like minutes-old fresh," Mortimer said dryly. "Our rogue is at the party, or he was."
    Decker frowned. "He might have fed and fled."
    "Would one be enough?" Bricker asked, drawing their questioning glances. "I mean, she's the only one we've found with bite marks. Would that be enough to satisfy him?" His gaze shifted to the girl's face. "She doesn't look overly pale. Do you think he took enough from this one that he'll stop and leave now, or might we be able to catch him in the act?"
    Mortimer shifted the small beam of the penlight to the girl's face, taking in her relatively healthy color, before shining it on her eyes to examine them. "It doesn't look like he took much at all. If he's not supplementing with bagged blood, then he'll definitely have to hit more than this one, if he hasn't already."
    They all turned and glanced back toward the light and laughter.
    "They're like sheep in the field with a wolf among them," Bricker murmured.

Chapter Six
    "I wonder what they're looking for?"
    Sam glanced at Jo with bewilderment when she murmured that comment. "Who?"
    "Bricker and Decker," Jo explained. "They're checking out everyone, almost as if they're looking for someone."
    "Yeah, the easy chick in the group," Sam said