Force of the Falcon

He brushed his fingers along her cheek. Murmured her name. He wanted it, too. All she had to do was tilt her head, close her eyes, relinquish control.

But bitter words about her being imperfect echoed in her head. She couldn’t lose control again. Control was all she had. The only way to protect herself. The only way she’d survive.

She couldn’t risk getting hurt once more.

And this man had the power to do it, because he made her feel again. Made her want things that she’d learned long ago were impossible.

Force of the Falcon

Rita Herron

MILLS & BOON

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For my grandmother, who taught me to love stories…

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Award-winning author Rita Herron wrote her first book when she was twelve, but didn’t think real people grew up to be writers. Now she writes so she doesn’t have to get a real job. A former kindergarten teacher and workshop leader, she traded her storytelling for romance, and writes romantic comedies and romantic suspense. She lives in Georgia with her own romance hero and three kids. She loves to hear from readers, so please write her at P.O. Box 921225, Norcross, GA 30092-1225, or visit her Web site at www.ritaherron.com.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Brack Falcon—His only love was his falcons—until he met Sonya Silverstein and her little girl. Now he must protect them or die trying….

Sonya Silverstein—When a twisted psycho tries to kill her, she must put her life in the hands of Brack Falcon. But can she trust him with her heart?

Katie Silverstein—She may be physically handicapped, but will her sixth sense help her survive a killer?

Stan Silverstein—Sonya’s ex blames her for their daughter’s physical handicap. But what is he hiding?

Sheriff Cohen—He railroaded Brack’s father into jail twenty years ago for a crime he didn’t commit. Is he going to do the same thing to Brack?

The Talon Terror—This villain kills women and animals with his birdlike talons. Is he animal, man or both?

Jameson Viago—The artist who draws the cartoon character The Talon Terror. Is he imitating the character in real life to boost his comic-book sales?

Emerson Godfrey—An expert from the government who is researching diseased animals. Is he going to destroy Brack’s beloved falcons?

Darrien Tripp—A reporter for an occult magazine called The Tween Zone. Has he really seen supernatural creatures?

Dr. Aaron Waverman—He wants Sonya for himself. How far will he go to win her?

Dr. Phil Priestly—The local veterinarian tends to birds of prey and has been attacked himself. Has his work with animals turned him into one?

Jerry Elmsworth—Katie doesn’t like Jerry, the veterinarian’s assistant. Is she right when she senses that he is untrustworthy?

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Chapter One

“Mommy, save me!” The childlike cry whispered through the eaves of the old farmhouse and echoed off the walls, terrifying and insistent.

Sonya Silverstein jerked awake and sat up, a shiver rippling through her as if the icy fingers of a ghost had touched her neck.

Had Katie cried out for help?

She clutched the sheets and listened for her daughter’s voice, for the sound of her small crutches clacking on the wooden floor, but an eerie silence seeped through the cold, dark room instead, and fear gripped her.

Something was wrong. Sonya felt it deep in her bones.

Her heart pounding, she slid from the bed, pushed open the bedroom door and searched the murky gray den for her little girl.

The dying embers of the fire they’d had going earlier glowed. A wild animal howled in the distance. A tree limb scraped the ice-crusted glass, and the shutter flapped against the weathered boards encasing the window.

Wind, vicious and blustery, tore through the dark room, hurling dead leaves across the plank flooring through the open door. Her breath caught.

She had locked the door when she’d gone to bed.

Had an intruder broken in while she’d been sleeping?

Panic seized her. Dear God, Katie had to be there. She had to be all right. Katie was everything to her. She was all that mattered.

She’d moved here to Tin City to raise Katie, to give her a safe life. To take solace in the small mountain town and heal from the pain her ex-husband had caused them.

But the house she’d rented was practically in the wilderness. What if Katie had gone outside hunting for the kitty? Or what if a madman had broken in and kidnapped her?

The door to her little girl’s room was cracked open, and she pushed it, praying she’d find Katie snuggled in bed with Mr. Buttons, her favorite teddy, and their kitten, Snowball. But Mr. Buttons lay on the floor, and she didn’t see the baby cat. The covers were tousled, and the bed was empty.

“Katie!” She searched beneath the bed, then yanked open the closet. But Katie wasn’t inside. Frantic, she screamed her name again and checked the bathroom. Katie’s Hello Kitty cup. Her damp toothbrush. Her fluffy bedroom slippers.

But no Katie!

Sonya whirled around, scanning the room for Katie’s small crutches.

They were gone.

Terror streaked through Sonya as she ran back into the den and grabbed her coat, her hat and a flashlight, then jammed on her snow boots and darted outside.

The bitterly cold Colorado wind clawed at her face as she searched the porch, then the snowpacked ground below, for her daughter or her footprints.

Snow whirled in a blinding haze, covering any tracks that might have lingered. A sob welled in Sonya’s throat as she scanned the thick, snowcapped woods surrounding the farmhouse. The rigid cliffs and peaks climbed toward the heavens like stone boulders. While she’d thought they’d offer a perfect place for her to hide, a sanctuary, now they looked ominous, threatening.

Katie was out there somewhere all alone. No telling what dangers lay waiting in the dense patches of firs and aspens. Katie was so small. She’d never survive the elements or be able to fight off an attacker.

“Katie!” A scream tore from deep in her throat, but got lost in the howling wind.

“Save me, Mommy!”

The whisper of her daughter’s plea reverberated through the chilling tension. Whether Katie had cried out for real or not, Sonya didn’t know. But she heard her daughter’s silent plea for help anyway.

She ran into the woods, blindly searching. She had to find her. She couldn’t lose Kate. Not now.

Not ever.

FRESH BLOOD dotted the powdery white snow, the scent of death floating in the whistling wind of the forest surrounding Falcon Ridge. Brack Falcon knotted his hands around the flashlight as rage rippled through him. A loud screeching sound had awakened him and brought him outside. And now, out here, he’d heard it again and found fresh blood. He hadn’t yet found the source of the blood this time, but he instinctively recognized the pattern.

Another one of the precious creatures of the forest had been attacked. He had discovered several dead birds of prey already this week. Most had been viciously slaughtered and mauled, their talons ripped off, their blood drained as if some creature had virtually sucked the life from them.

What kind of animal would do such a thing? Or could it be a man?

Stories of the ghosts and legends that thrived in Tin City haunted him. The dead that lingered. Miners trapped below the town, screeching in terror, haunting the very place where they’d died—the underground tunnels and caves that had been built as escape routes back in the 1800s.

And now a revival of the tales of wild animals that attacked without provocation. Stories of hybrid and mutant creatures, half human, half animal. With the bizarre attacks on the falcons this week, the fables had risen from the depths of the past, creating panic and hysteria.

All the more reason for the citizens to once again look at the Falcon men with suspicion.

Brack followed the blood-dotted snow, trekking farther into the bowels of the towering aspens and fir trees. The bitterness he’d lived with since he was six years old and his father had been falsely accused of murder ate at his insides. Granted, he and his two brothers, Rex and Deke, had finally helped exonerate his father, and his parents were now reunited, but twenty years of hating the people in the town who’d shunned the boys and their mother had stolen a part of Brack’s soul.

A part that was lost forever.

And now his brothers were back at Falcon Ridge, and had decided to settle in Tin City and relocate their private detective agency to Colorado, back at the old homestead. They’d built offices in the basement and had installed high-tech security and state of the art computer systems. Deke and his new wife, Elsie, had bought one of the historical houses in town and were renovating it, while Rex and his wife, Hailey, had built a beautiful Victorian on her parents’ property.

Brack had moved in to Falcon Ridge. Alone.

But the cries, anger and pain from his childhood still echoed in the stone structure as if twenty years had never passed, as if he were that little boy again watching his father being dragged away to jail.

He’d listened to his mother’s sobs at night, had seen the anger and helplessness in his brothers, and he’d virtually shut down. Had learned to suppress any emotion.

Never get close to anyone and you’ll never hurt like that again.

And he hadn’t.

Instead, he’d pulled away from people and befriended the birds. And over the years, he’d honed his natural instincts with the falcons, instincts he’d inherited from his father and his grandfather before that, until he had such a deep connection with the animals of the forest that they communicated in their own silent language.

The crackle of twigs being severed in the wind jarred him from his reverie. A branch snapped off, and layers of snow and ice pelted him. Above, he heard the flapping of a falcon’s wingspan stirring the frigid air, then the faint, heartwrenching cry of a bird in pain.

He picked up his pace, knowing it was too late to save the creature, but hating for it to die alone. Seconds later, fury welled inside him as he studied the mauled remains. Its body had been ripped apart as if killed by one of its own kind. Blood streaked the muddy white ground. Feathers were scattered across crimson patches of ice, and the eagle’s head lay against a stone.

Dammit. The head had been severed.

Rage shot through him, primal and raw, all-consuming.

When he found what or who was doing this, he’d kill it.

Then another cry of terror floated from the distance. It was so faint he had to strain to hear it.

This cry was human.

A chill shot through him, and he took off running.

AN ODD SCREECH rippled through the air, sending a chill through Sonya. What kind of animal made a sound like that? Nothing she’d ever heard before.

The wind was so strong she had to fight to keep from being knocked against the trees. The snow was almost ankle-deep on her—what would it be like for Katie?

Each footstep she took intensified her fears. Katie must be freezing. Terrified. What if she’d fallen and gotten hurt? What if she slipped off one of the ridges? What if a man had her, and he hadn’t brought her into the forest?

No, Katie had to be out here. Sonya hadn’t heard a car engine. She grabbed a vine and pulled herself along, shining the flashlight across the snowpacked ground, pushing through bramble and broken limbs. The white haze of swirling snow blurred her vision, and she swiped at her eyes, willing them to focus.

Up above, she saw a faint flash. The color red.

Katie’s red pajamas?

Her pulse raced. “Katie!” She began to run, slogging through the thick weight of the downfall. Cold bit at her cheeks and nose, and her limbs felt heavy. Wet sludge squished beneath her boots, and twigs and dead leaves crackled.

She spotted the red again, just a quick flash, then the outline of a small form. An animal? A deer, maybe?

No, her daughter hobbling on her crutches, her frail body swaying as she struggled against the elements.

Sonya screamed Katie’s name again and launched into a jog. A limb shattered, then crashed to the ground. Ice and snow rained down on her. Sonya jumped over the limb and pushed forward. Another splintered and slammed into her arm. She threw it aside and tore through some fallen branches, desperate to get to her little girl.

Suddenly Katie went down. Her small body disappeared, lost in the blizzard. Panic ripped through Sonya. Where was Katie? The heavy snow could bury her alive within minutes.

Swiping at tears, she sprinted faster, searching, praying, turning to scan the area where she’d seen Katie a moment earlier. Finally she spotted one crutch sticking up from the ground. Her heart throbbed as she closed the distance.

Katie was lying in the thick snow and ice, trying to battle her way up against the ferocious wind, but it pulled her down as if it were quicksand.

Oh God, her poor baby.

Sonya’s paramedic training kicked in. She had to hurry and get Katie warm before hypothermia set in.

Her breath puffed out in clouds of white as she jogged to her. Katie looked up, her eyes full of terror. “Mommy!”

“Shh, Mommy’s got you.” Sonya leaned forward to scoop Katie into her arms, but a loud, horrifying animal-like cry splintered the air. Katie screamed, and Sonya’s lungs tightened as something slammed into her back. She pitched forward, clawed at the air, anything to break her fall, but ice and snow pelted her face and stung her hands as she collapsed.

“Mommy!”

Something sharp clawed at her back through her coat. Sonya sent Katie a panicked look, but waved to her daughter. “Run, Katie! Run! Find shelter!”

Katie’s cheeks ballooned with exertion as she grabbed the crutch from the ground and dragged herself up to stand.

The animal tore at Sonya again, viciously assaulting her, shredding her jacket and ripping through her flannel gown.

Sonya grabbed a broken limb and swung it backward, trying to fend off her attacker long enough for Katie to escape.

“Mommy!” Katie cried.

“Get out of here, Katie! Run now!”

Katie’s chin wobbled and tears streaked her cheeks, but she began to hobble through the woods, pushing her crutches through the snow.

Pain shot through Sonya as the animal’s talons bit into her skin. She tried to roll over and fight, clawing at the ice and snow, but the screech echoed off the mountain, and her head swam as the animal ripped into her flesh.

The stench of death assaulted her. Then she tasted blood, and terror seized her. She was going to die tonight at the hands of this creature.

Then who would take care of Katie?

AN ANIMAL’S vicious attack cry split the air, and Brack froze, listening, focusing on his senses to lead him. The sound was vile, primitive, inhuman. Had it come from the same creature who had mauled the eagle?

Was it attacking again?

He shined the flashlight on the ground and headed in the direction of the noise, the snow swirling in a thick fog in front of him.

The sickening screech erupted again, and he pivoted, zeroing in on the rustle of the trees and movement to his right. He still smelled the blood of the eagle, but the scent of fear and death teased his nostrils, too.

A human’s fear.

Anger sizzled through his veins. His beloved birds weren’t assaulting humans, were they? No, there had to be another explanation.

He glanced up and oddly, through the haze, saw a falcon circling above. Following the falcon was not a question, but his only option. He trusted the bird implicitly. Wind whistled through the bowing branches as he pushed his way through a thicket of pines and hiked toward the caves buried in the mountain. The falcon moved ahead another seventy-five feet, then stopped and flapped his wings, diving downward as if to warn Brack of impending danger.

Brack darted through the fir trees, branches tearing at his jacket sleeve, his heart racing. Seconds later, he spotted blood dotting the milky-white snow. A woman lay on the snow-carpeted ground facedown, the back of her coat and gown ripped to shreds, blood streaking her pale skin. Her hands were outstretched as if she were reaching for something, the delicate skin red and bloody from defense wounds.

His heart lurched to a stop. She was lying so still…

Was he too late? Was she already dead?

Chapter Two

Brack scanned the woods for the woman’s attacker, but the swish of trees and slight tremor of the earth below his feet told him that he had frightened off the creature. He slowly knelt to check the woman’s pulse, pushed her long, curly hair aside, then pressed two fingers to her neck. Her skin still felt warm, and a slight pulse throbbed in her throat. Thank God.

But he had to get her help. She was bleeding and would die if he didn’t hurry.

He reached inside his pocket to call 911, but his cell phone showed no service. Damn. Knowing he had to get her out of the elements, he gently eased her to her side, carefully bracing her against his arm to support her. Her face was covered in snow, her complexion ashen, her cheeks dotted with ice crystals and chafed red from the cold. He brushed away the flakes and gently rubbed his thumb over her cheek. She slowly opened her eyes and whimpered, then tried to pull away.

“Shh, I’m not going to hurt you.” He lowered his voice to a soothing pitch, the same tone he’d perfected with the falcons.

Her eyes widened in terror, and she moaned and pushed at him. “No, get away!”

“My name is Brack Falcon,” he murmured. “I live at Falcon Ridge. I’m going to carry you out of here. You’re bleeding.”

“No…”

Why the hell was she fighting him? Women had been afraid of him before, due to his large size and his affinity for wild animals. But she needed him. “Listen, Miss, you need a doctor.”

She gripped his arm with bloody hands. “No, g-got to find K-Katie first.”

His breath puffed out in a white cloud. “What?”

“My little girl,” she moaned. “She’s out here…I have to find her.”

A child. That explained why she was trudging into the blizzard at night.

“I can’t leave you. Whatever attacked you might come back.” Or you might bleed to death, he added silently. And she was much too young and beautiful to die.

“He might get Katie!” she cried. “Please, she’s only four…she’s so little, and she’s all alone, and she can’t walk very well…”

Brack’s gut clenched. A four-year-old lost in the woods with something attacking humans close by. He didn’t want the picture in his head, but the image flashed there anyway, sending fear through him.

Their gazes locked, and something shifted inside him. Some emotion he didn’t want to identify. He had connected with the woman on some instinctual level.

“Please find her,” the woman pleaded.

Brack searched his brain for another option. She felt so small and vulnerable in his arms, and she was hurting. Yet she was more concerned for her daughter than her own safety. If he carried her back to Falcon Ridge, by the time he returned, the creature might have hurt the little girl. Or she’d be so lost he might not find her in this weather.

He had to go after the kid.

His chest tightened as he jerked off his coat and wrapped it gently around the woman, then lifted her and moved her beneath an overhang. The jutting cliff would protect her from the new falling snow and somewhat from the bitter wind. But he had to hurry.

She clutched his hand again and squeezed it. “Please go now. You have to save her.”

She stared at him. In her eyes, he saw terror, and the realization that she might not make it, but that she didn’t care. She’d sacrifice her life to save her daughter’s. In fact, she’d probably been attacked doing just that.

Emotions swelled in his throat, but he pushed them aside. He didn’t have time for them.

He had to find Katie and bring her back to her mother. Then he had to make sure they both survived.

SONYA FELT her little girl’s fear as if it were a physical part of herself and tried to stay alert.

But her head swam, and the world danced in a haze in front of her eyes. She was bleeding, felt so weak, her body was throbbing…

Her head lolled backward…she could hardly keep her eyes open.

No, don’t go to sleep. Don’t pass out.

She had to hang on. She had to be awake if that man found Katie. What had he said his name was?

She forced her eyes open, but she was completely disoriented. She could no longer see two feet in front of her. Panic gripped her, and she tried to move, to get up, but nausea rose in her throat, and she swayed and collapsed back against the ridge. Pain throbbed relentlessly through her back and arms. But she refused to give in to it. She had to stay calm.

The man would be back. He’d promised. He knew where he’d left her.

Brack Falcon. He said he lived nearby. She’d heard rumors in town about the men at Falcon Ridge. They were strange. Dangerous. They lived in the wild like animals.

But he had spoken so softly to her and had promised to find Katie.

Wind ripped through her coat and tossed debris through the air, the throbbing in her body intensifying as the minutes dragged on. Panic gnawed at her again.

Katie. Dear God, had the creature gotten her? Had Katie stumbled and fallen in the snow? What if she stepped off a ridge or embankment and was hurt? What if Brack Falcon couldn’t find her?

She curled up inside his coat, a sob wrenching from deep in her soul as her little girl’s face flashed in her mind. Katie, with the big brown eyes. Katie, who liked Cheerios and peanut butter cookies. And strawberry shampoo and bubble baths and picking wildflowers in the yard.

Katie with the guileless smile and the determination to overcome her handicap. Katie, who never complained about being left out or struggling to walk, all the things other kids took for granted.

Katie, with no father.

Or rather, one who hadn’t wanted her.

The agony of Stan’s betrayal and parting words felt like a heavy weight slamming into her every time she thought about it. He had wanted a baby, but with Stan, everything had to be perfect.

Katie wasn’t. At least not in Stan’s eyes. And neither was Sonya because she carried a genetic disorder that had caused Katie’s physical problems.