New Species 06 Wrath (2 page)

Chapter One

“You aren’t really going to eat that, are you?” Lauren curled her lip, staring with horrified fascination at what sat on her friend’s plate. “It looks like someone slaughtered a salad with all that green and red.”

Her best friend, Amanda, laughed. “It’s the latest diet trend. It looks like hell but I’m supposed to lose twenty pounds a month if I eat this every day.”

Lauren pushed a stray lock of blonde hair behind one ear. “I’d lose that much too if I had to try to choke that crap down. I wouldn’t eat.” She sighed. “I know all about diets and I think I’ve tried them all. Trust me, that isn’t going to work. The only way I can lose a few pounds is by downing water and exercising until I can’t breathe.”

“You only need to drop thirty pounds.” Amanda pouted. “I need to lose twice that much. This spinach salad and hot sauce thing is supposed to work. I want to have a shape again.”

“You and I both have that already.” Lauren winked. “Round is a shape. Look, I am tired of being unhappy because my butt doesn’t fit into the same jeans I wore when I was fourteen and I’ve got love handles. I enjoy eating and detest starving. It sucks being hungry all the time. Those diets just made me miserable, hungry, and depressed.” She pointed at the burger on her plate and used her other hand to push it closer to her friend. “Take a bite. You know you really want to. Eat a fry. Live a little and save yourself from misery. You’ll enjoy my food way more than yours.”

“I haven’t had anyone ask me out in two months, Lauren. Two whole months. You’ve got big boobs, the long hair, and pretty blue eyes going for you. And you’re short. You are cute to men even with the excess weight.”

“Yeah. Men are just breaking down my door.” She snorted. “I just must not be home when they do it. No one is still there when I get off work. They have to be skilled carpenters too because they are amazing at fixing any damage they did to get in.”

“That one man asked you out last week and he was cute.”

“Cute? He reminded me of a puppet with his frizzy red hair and the unibrow.”

“At least you got asked out by someone.” Amanda sighed. “I’d love a puppet type myself. You could have so taken him home to keep. I bet he’s into cuddling.”

Lauren shook her head in disgust. “Imagine doing someone who reminded you of a childhood cartoon. Give me a break. I didn’t want to keep him or take him home. He was kind of weird besides. He has a real freaky thing going on with his mother. She called me five times to tell me her son was a nice man I should date. I was afraid they’d invite me to dinner and it would be located next to some remote house on a hill that stood beside a creepy motel.”

“Funny.” Amanda hesitated before she popped a French fry into her mouth. “He was cute though, in that movie. Too bad he was a knife-wielding murderer. I mean, come on. Stab the naked girl in the shower or try to do her?” She rolled her eyes. “What a waste.”

“I worry about you,” Lauren commented, smiling to soften her words.

Brown eyes twinkled with amusement. “I wouldn’t mind a psycho if he was into stabbing me in a sexy way with a big body part.”

“You’re sick.” Lauren laughed. “You—”

Her phone rang. She groaned and reached for her purse under her chair. One glance at her caller ID made her wince. “Lauren here. What’s up, Mel?”

Lauren listened to her boss and closed her eyes. “Tonight? Why can’t someone else—” She paused. “But I’m in the middle of dinner with my friend. I can’t possibly—” She shut up and gritted her teeth. “But can’t you go instead because—” She was getting angry. “Fine. Right. I’ll go. Fine. Bye.” She hung up. Lauren shoved her phone back inside her purse and stood, giving her friend a regretful look. “I have to go.”

“Seriously?” Amanda’s smile faded. “Now? What did your bitch boss want?”

Lauren slapped a ten-dollar bill on the table and grabbed her coat off the back of the chair. “It seems one of the agents had an emergency. I have to show a building in the Industrial Park area right away. Some big fish is out there wanting to see it tonight. She told me it’s so important that I’m fired if I don’t go. She can’t meet him because of her plans. I guess mine don’t mean squat. God, I hate that witch.”

“Damn. Well, go. Maybe you’ll sell it and we can take a trip somewhere nice, on you. I’ve always wanted to go to Jamaica.”

“Yeah. With my luck he’s just some guy who was bored, with nothing to do on a Friday night, and decided to spin my wheels. I’ll call you tomorrow. Are we still on for seeing a movie?”

“Yeah. Good luck. Break a real estate sign.” Amanda ate another fry.

“Cute.” Lauren waved and headed toward her car.

* * * * *

Lauren glanced at her GPS navigator for the fifth time ten minutes later and cursed as she looked around at the empty streets. She had a bad feeling about showing a property after hours. The Industrial Park was virtually abandoned since most businesses had closed for the night or were just warehouses. She was a single woman going to meet a strange man in an unfamiliar area at night. She took a turn when the computerized voice ordered her to.

An expensive red sports car was parked in the otherwise empty parking lot when Lauren stopped her car next to it. She hesitated before climbing out. Every bit of common sense told her to flee. It screamed “bad idea” but she’d lose her job if she didn’t get her ass inside there and show the thing. Her fingers gripped her keys and her thumb hit the door-lock button.

The building was a huge one-story, similar to dozens of others on the block and the old business sign declared it had been some shipping company she wasn’t familiar with. Her high heels clicked loudly on the pavement as she approached the double doors. The key box sat on the ground, open. She bit her lip.

Only realtors had the combination to open them to get the keys but someone had obviously given it to Mr. Herbert. It made her dislike her coworker even more. The jerk who was supposed to show the property had obviously betrayed the seller’s trust. It was a huge no-no. They used the same combination on all the properties they represented, including homes that people still lived in. If Mr. Herbert was a pervert or a thief, he now had access to a lot of properties. She silently swore to have a talk with their boss about it.

The doors were unlocked when she tested them and one side easily opened. It wasn’t a mystery anymore where the prospective client had gone. He hadn’t waited until she arrived to go on a tour but had already entered the warehouse. She stepped inside, glanced around the barren reception area, and cleared her throat.

“Hello?” she called loudly. She peered at a dim corridor. “Mr. Herbert?”

She stepped into the darkness and turned her head to search for the light switch. The outside lights in the parking area didn’t extend far into this section of the building. Relief was instant when she found it and she could see the room. Mr. Herbert wasn’t there but the double doors to the hallway leading to what appeared to be offices were wide open.

“Mr. Herbert?” She yelled the man’s name louder.

No response.

“Damn. I don’t like this,” she whispered.

It went against the grain to meet a stranger in an empty building. She wasn’t stupid. Mr. Herbert could be a rapist or a killer. It was her job to meet clients and lead them through empty properties.
The commission on this baby though…

That prospect propelled her closer to the dark hallway to hunt for another panel of switches. The lights in the hallway flickered and stayed on when she found it. Her gaze traveled the long length of open office doors on both sides and it seemed to end at the warehouse part of the building, judging by the massive double doors.
Where the hell is this guy?

“Mr. Herbert?”

She stepped into the hallway with dread pitting her stomach. One by one she paused in open doorways and searched the empty dark offices with a sweeping glance. The feeling of something being wrong only intensified. She’d have turned tail and fled if she wasn’t desperate to make the sale.

Lauren reached the end of the hallway without finding the guy. She wanted to go home, didn’t want to be there, and that inner voice urged her to return to her car. The lights hadn’t been on which made her wonder why the buyer would willingly wander around in the dark.
Who would do that? Isn’t it basic instinct to turn on lights?
There was no way she wanted to walk around the eerie building blind.

She stared at the massive metal double doors and her heart raced. Her rent was due, she had a car payment, and less than two grand to her name. She’d be in deep shit if she didn’t make money in the next few weeks. Homeless hadn’t been her goal when she’d put herself through school. The buyer was somewhere—he’d unlocked the door and the sports car had to be his.

What if he had tripped? He could be hurt and the lights might have a timer on them.
She glanced up at the lighted beams and knew she’d freak out big-time if she were suddenly left in the dark if they turned off.

“Too many horror movies. This is what you get for watching them.” She reached for one of the door handles, paused, and noticed her hand trembled. “You’ll totally feel like shit if this man had a heart attack and he’s lying in there dying while you’re being a chickenshit.”

The pep talk helped.

Lauren straightened her shoulders and gripped the cold metal handle. It twisted easily and she shoved hard. The door opened to reveal pitch blackness and cooler air. A shiver ran down her spine as she paused there.

“Mr. Herbert?” She lowered her voice to mutter, “Answer me. You better have had a heart attack or something to explain why you’re scaring the shit out of me by not answering. God knows I’m about to have one.”

Her gaze paused on the light switch inside the warehouse section and she moved fast for it. She’d do a quick walk-through to see if the client was there but afterward she’d split.

She had almost reached it when total darkness closed in around her and the door slammed loudly at her back. She gasped and froze. Her eyes widened but she couldn’t see a thing. Goose bumps pricked her skin and she hoped she wouldn’t seriously have a heart attack.

Calm down!
She forced herself to take a breath.
The doors are probably weighted to close. Turn on the lights! Damn Amanda and her talk of serial killers.

She found the wall with her franticly seeking hands, brushed her fingertips along the smooth surface, and finally touched the switches. She flipped them on and prayed they’d work. A slight hum startled her but the room brightened as the lights flickered a few times rapidly but stayed on.
Oh, thank God!

She turned her head to stare at the vast warehouse. It had to be fifty feet in height from the concrete floor to the metal ceiling beams. The previous owner had left big metal containers inside that blocked her view of large sections but she could see parts of the back wall to judge that it had to be a good six hundred feet long and probably five hundred feet wide. Lauren frowned as she looked at the four rusted hunks of junk—shipping containers similar to the ones she’d seen leaving the harbor on cargo ships.

Why didn’t the owner remove them? It looks bad for a sale.
She really wasn’t familiar with the property. It was Brent Thort’s listing. She briefly wondered what Brent’s big emergency had been that made him duck out on Mr. Herbert. If the potential buyer asked about those containers she wouldn’t have an answer.

Is the owner going to have them removed under the contract or is the building selling as is with those massive babies? Damn.
Lauren gripped her purse, ready to call her boss to ask, if she ever found the elusive buyer.

“Mr. Herbert!” She yelled for all she was worth.

Movement made her gasp. The man who stepped out from behind the container wore all black. Lauren’s heart hammered and she stiffened. Fear didn’t inch up her spine. It jolted lightning-quick from her heels to her brain.

He was dressed wrong to drive the fancy sports car outside. He definitely didn’t look like a Mr. Herbert. He was a big man and reminded her of a mix between a ninja, with the all-black clothing, and a soldier, with the bulky bulletproof vest. Black material encased everything on the man except his tan throat and head. Spiked black hair also gave her the impression that he was military but the dark sunglasses didn’t fit with the look. She couldn’t see his eyes at all.

He slowly stalked toward her, closing the distance while she stood there frozen. It gave her time to take in more details of the stranger. He had wide shoulders and his shirt stretched tightly over thick, bulky biceps. Her fear notched higher. That screamed “ex-convict” to her. She had a neighbor with arms nearly that size and he’d told her lifting weights had been the only thing to alleviate boredom while he’d served nine years for armed robbery.

Lauren swallowed hard. Her neighbor scared the crap out of her but this guy was ten times worse. Her gaze lowered to his black boots and she openly stared at them since her legs still refused to work. Definitely military. Her cousin was in the Marines and she’d seen him polish his boots a few months before while visiting an aunt. The kickass chunky boots were almost exactly the same as the ones she’d seen.