Last Hope Read online

  LAST HOPE

  Moira Rogers

  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Last Hope

  Moira Rogers

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  870 Market St, Suite 1201

  San Francisco CA 94102-2907

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © January 2009 by Moira Rogers

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 978-1-59632-862-4

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Crystal Esau

  Cover Artist: Marci Gass

  www.loose-id.com

  Chapter One

  Kiara Avery sighed and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she climbed out of the ambulance. “Jesus, look at the door.” Bloody handprints marred the beige surface as well as the handle. Someone had obviously scrambled to get inside, probably to call for help.

  “Freakin’ bloodbath, Avery.” Bobby Sanchez jumped down from the driver’s seat and jerked his head toward the edge of the brick building and the row of hedges rounding it. Pools and smears of blood covered the concrete walk and disappeared into the grass. The moon hung, round and high, in the sky, and Kiara could just make out a pair of jeans-clad legs behind the shrubs.

  Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, and she shivered in the chilly night air. “I hate ride-alongs,” she whispered, then hefted her emergency bag. “Let’s get a move on.”

  The scene was worse than she’d expected. The legs were connected to what had probably been a large man, but most of him was covered by a blanket. Most of him. Someone — or something — had torn him apart with terrifying ferocity. Sanchez had to step around a hand that lay a few feet from the rest of the arm, and Kiara followed him as he strode toward the small huddle of cops clustered several yards from the body.

  A girl huddled on the ground next to them, a rough blanket wrapped around her body. Judging from the torn clothing scattering the ground, she was naked.

  She didn’t look dangerous. She looked young, with a sweet, round face and dazed blue eyes. The harsh streetlight next to the building washed out the color of her hair, but Kiara could see streaks of blood in it, darkening the light auburn strands. She didn’t look capable of the carnage they’d seen, but it was clear from the nervous way the cops watched her that no one was entirely sure if she was a victim or a suspect.

  Kiara ignored the men and knelt on the grass, stripping off her glove. She laid a bare hand on the girl’s cheek, and waves of fear and rage tingled through her, followed by a sense of shock that left her numb. She had to will her tongue to move as she glanced at the men beside her. “How long ago was she attacked?”

  One of the officers shook his head. “The call came in just after eight, but we still don’t know what happened.”

  Kiara did. The stunned terror radiating from the young woman was something she’d felt before, from countless victims of violent crime. “He tried to hurt her,” she said flatly. “She fought back.”

  Another cop, a burly man with wavy blond hair, snorted. “Yeah, looks like self-defense to me. Guy’s in about fifteen pieces.”

  Kiara looked up at him. Her defenses were down, and his emotions rushed in, filling her with revulsion. He was disgusted, full of hate. Scared. “She fought back, Officer Douglas,” she said again. “The only way she knew how.”

  He stared at her for a second, then turned away with a sneer. “Fucking freaks.”

  Sanchez stepped up to the man, his anger scraping at her already raw nerves. “What did you say?”

  “Bobby.” She shot him a quelling look. “What do the witnesses say happened?” When her question was met with silence, she glanced back up. “There were witnesses, right?”

  The officers remained silent, which was answer enough. If there hadn’t been, the girl would be in handcuffs already.

  Kiara took a deep breath and turned to Sanchez. “Can you get the backboard and gurney? We have to take her in.”

  The first officer made a noise of protest as her partner jogged toward the ambulance. “We still have to get a statement.”

  “Get it at the hospital.” She ignored the cop’s stuttered protest and concentrated on checking the girl’s vital signs.

  The girl finally moved, her gaze fixing on Kiara. She shuddered and tightened the blanket around her shoulders, pulling away from Kiara’s hands. “I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’m fine. And my boyfriend will be here in a few minutes.”

  Kiara pulled the stethoscope from her ears. “You’ve been through a bad time. You should let us take you in, get yourself checked out.”

  “I need a shower.” Her ragged voice dropped to a whisper, so soft Kiara could barely hear it. “I smell like him.”

  “I know.” She laid her hand on the girl’s face again, concentrating on calming her. “My name is Kiara. What’s yours?”

  Her empathy did the trick, soothing the prickles of energy inside the girl. She closed her large, shocked-looking eyes. When she opened them again, her gaze was much calmer. “Claire. My name is Claire.”

  “Claire.” Kiara smiled as Sanchez came back with the board. “Are you sure we can’t talk you into going to the hospital? You could be hurt and not even feel it because of the adrenaline and shock.”

  Claire’s head jerked around, her gaze fixed on some point past Sanchez in the direction of the parking lot. Relief flowed out of her so strongly Kiara was surprised everyone couldn’t feel it. “I need to talk to my boyfriend first. It would be bad if he came here and found my blood but couldn’t find me.”

  Kiara glanced back and saw a brown-haired man spring off a motorcycle and hurry toward them. He didn’t slow until he reached them, his worn boots slipping a little on the slick grass. “Claire? Baby…” His nostrils flared as he scooped her into his arms. “Where is he?”

  Officer Douglas scowled at them. “You’re standing on part of him.”

  The man snarled at the cop, who immediately backed off. “He’s lucky you didn’t leave him for me, baby,” he whispered, stroking his thumb over Claire’s jaw. “Did he hurt you?”

  “This doctor thinks I should go to the hospital.” As Kiara watched, Claire’s eyes drifted shut. “Her name is…is…”

  “I’m a nurse,” she corrected gently, holding out a hand. “Kiara.”

  He shook it briefly. “Lars. Does she really need to go?”

  “Yes, she really does. Can you convince her?”

  He pulled the girl closer. “She’ll go. Can I come with her?”

  Kiara found herself choked by another rolling wave of emotion, so Sanchez answered. “You can ride in the back. Come on.” He hoisted the board under his arm and helped Kiara to her feet. “Can you carry her?”

  Lars was already rising to his feet, his girlfriend cradled in his arms. “I’ve got her.”


  Claire tucked her face against his neck. “You are such a bossy ass.”

  Sanchez shot Kiara a grin. “I think she’ll be all right, Avery.”

  She half smiled as she tugged open the doors at the back of the ambulance. “You’re probably right.” She hopped in and beckoned to Lars. “Bring her on in, and we’ll get going.”

  He did, and she soothed Claire again as they laid her out on the collapsible gurney. “You’re going to be fine,” she whispered, letting her certainty flow over to the younger woman. “Fine.”

  The tense set of Claire’s shoulders eased a little, but she clutched her boyfriend’s hand tightly. “They think it was my fault. Am I going to be arrested?”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Claire. No one is arresting you.”

  “Hell, no,” Sanchez chimed in from the driver’s seat. “They have witnesses who saw the guy attack you. He got what was coming to him.”

  “I didn’t mean to kill him.” She squeezed her eyes shut and made a low noise. “I think he was one of them. One of the guys who’s been on the news. He said the freaks were going to get what they deserved. And he knocked me into the wall, and I just lost it.”

  “Shh.” She knew exactly who Claire meant. Anyone who had turned on a television in the past month had seen the videos and letters played endlessly on the news, videos promising a bright future for humans free from the monsters. Humanity’s Last Hope. Kiara fought to control her shudder. “I know you only wanted to stop him.”

  “Did I?” The low, menacing tone of Claire’s voice was echoed by the sudden shift in the emotions in the back of the vehicle. “Maybe. Except I want to stop his friends too. I could smell them on him. I could find them…”

  Lars’s hand tightened around hers. “Don’t worry about that right now.” The look on his face was easy to read. Leave that up to me.

  Claire snarled her displeasure, and the emotions in the back of the ambulance ratcheted up another notch. “I will kick your ass if you try to stop me.”

  Kiara had to stifle a growl as the two shifters fought a silent war for dominance. She attempted to distract Claire as she started an IV. “What breed are you? I had a roommate in college who was a jaguar.”

  “I’m a coyote.” Claire’s gaze was still locked with Lars’s, but her voice had gone from angry to oddly warm. “He’s a territorial jackass.”

  Kiara smiled. “But you love him anyway, right?”

  It was Lars who answered. “Damn right.” He kept his fingers wrapped around Claire’s even as he watched Kiara closely. “Don’t hurt her. She’s been hurt enough.”

  “I’m already done.” She reached for the piece of medical tape she’d already torn off the roll and smoothed it down over the port, securing it. “No sweat.”

  “No sweat,” Claire echoed, finally meeting Kiara’s eyes. “You’re not going to medicate me, are you? I don’t want to be out of it.”

  She shook her head. “IV access is standard for emergent cases. We might have to give you fluids or medications in the ER. But I see no reason for you to be sedated.”

  “Good.” Claire closed her eyes. “Are the police…? Are they going to come to the hospital to talk to me?”

  Kiara bit her lip. “Yes.”

  “You’re sure there were witnesses?”

  “I’m positive.”

  “Okay. Okay.” For the first time since they’d gotten Claire into the ambulance, the heavy press of emotions eased. A few seconds later, Claire’s fingers closed around Kiara’s wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. “Watch out for the blond cop. He was talking about you when he knew you couldn’t hear anymore. He reeked of fear. Fear and hate.”

  She swallowed. “I know.” It wasn’t just Douglas. She’d tasted the jagged tang of the other officers’ emotions, as well. Mostly, they’d been scared and disgusted by the carnage. But she’d felt an undercurrent of loathing too. “Some of them hate people like us.”

  Lars studied her, his gaze sharp. “Us?”

  “Empath.” She reached for several packages of gauze and focused her attention on Claire’s scrapes. She winced a little but sat mostly still as Kiara carefully examined her split lip and the cut on her arm.

  Kiara worked quickly, answering the occasional question from Sanchez as he radioed in to the emergency department. Claire made the fourth victim of the HLH she’d seen in the past three weeks, either in the ER or during her paramedic ride-alongs. Perhaps it would all stop now that one of the attackers had been killed. Maybe…

  She shook herself and tamped down the fear that welled inside her. If anything, the hate group responsible would retaliate, wanting vengeance. Up until now, the police department’s priorities hadn’t seemed to include stopping them. Why would that change?

  Kiara glanced at the blood she’d tracked into the ambulance. It covered the soles of her shoes and had soaked into her pants where she’d knelt in the grass next to Claire. It reminded her that more than assault had happened tonight. Someone had died.

  Why, indeed?

  Chapter Two

  Adrian almost didn’t answer his phone when it rang, the high-pitched noise cutting through the sound from the television. He had his first meal of the day in front of him, and he’d earned it after spending the last twelve hours chasing down dead-end leads.

  And it’s probably Katie’s parents again. He understood his newest clients were impatient as hell. He probably would be too if he had a daughter who’d ended up in the hospital after a violent mugging. A neighbor had stumbled across sweet little Kathleen Murphy in the hallway outside her tiny one-bedroom apartment, bloodied and beaten, with a Bible verse spray-painted across her door. Just like Travis Simons. Just like Emerson Jacobs.

  A submissive shape-shifter, a psychic, and a witch. Three supernaturals in as many weeks, all beaten to within an inch of their lives, but all left alive to tell about the terror of the attacks.

  The ringer on his phone sounded again, and Adrian dropped his fork with a sigh. A quick glance at the caller ID made him glad he had. It wasn’t the Murphys on the phone, demanding updates, but one of his contacts on the police force. Adrian flipped open the phone and held it to his ear. “Torres here. What’s up?”

  “Hey, Adrian. It’s Collins.” The man’s voice was hushed, nervous. “Just thought you might be interested to hear about a call we had tonight.”

  His stomach sank, and he pushed away his food, no longer hungry. “Another one?”

  “Yeah. Assault, with a DB.”

  Dead body. “Shit.” Adrian rose and swiped his keys from the table. “So they’re escalating?”

  “Hardly.” Collins snorted. “Guy apparently started roughing a girl up outside the campus library, and she turned the tables on him. Ripped him to pieces, and that isn’t a figure of speech.”

  “Shit.” He snatched his jacket and headed for the door. “Shifter, I take it? What type? Did you catch a name?” Most of the weaker shape-shifter women had been careful not to go out alone after dark since Emerson’s attack, which meant the idiots had probably stumbled across one of the relatively rare dominant females in town.

  “One witness said wolf, another said coyote.” Adrian could hear Collins shuffling papers. “The only name I got was ‘Franklin,’ but EMS came and picked her up. Took her to the county hospital. Thought you might want to know because they found a can of red spray paint on the guy. Or…in him. Whatever. The guys who were there said it was awful.”

  “Franklin.” Adrian locked his door as he tried to figure out why that name sounded familiar. “Franklin… Did you see her? Or get a description?” Please don’t be a redhead.

  “Nah, man, I just came on. Someone you know?”

  “I think I know her boyfriend. He could make the situation…ugly. Let’s just hope I’m wrong.” The idea of trying to run an investigation under the radar with Lars Nilsson storming around in a protective, vindictive rage was enough to completely ruin his already shitty week. “Thanks for the heads-up, Collins. I’m on my way ov
er to County now. If you hear anything else, let me know.”

  “Yeah. Hey,” he added quickly. “The guy’s at County too. Should still be in the morgue. I’m not sure if they’re going to get an ID off him, but you could take a peek. Just don’t go on a full stomach.”

  “She tore him up that bad, huh?”

  Collins sighed. “Worse, is what I heard. Some of the guys were ready to cuff the girl and haul her in, but there were too many witness statements corroborating self-defense.”

  Adrian could only imagine. If the police in this town were sympathetic to shape-shifters, he’d still be wearing a badge. “Jesus. Does she need a lawyer?”

  “Nah, I don’t think so. A couple of the guys who were on scene kept the spray paint and some other evidence from disappearing. She should be all right.”

  “Okay. Keep me in the loop. I’ll give you a call later tonight.” Adrian snapped his phone shut and shoved it into his pocket just as he reached his truck.

  If the girl in the hospital was Lars’s new girlfriend, they were all in a hell of a lot of trouble. An attack on someone like that would ratchet up the tension in a way the previous three attacks hadn’t. Emerson Jacobs was a submissive wolf who stayed away from other shape-shifters for the most part. And, as far as he knew, the psychics and witches didn’t have an organized structure.

  Attacking a female shifter would have been bad enough. Attacking the girlfriend of the most dominant and aggressive coyote in town was likely to start an all-out war.

  Stop borrowing trouble. Maybe it’ not her. Could have been a wolf or someone from out of town. Could have been anyone.

  It didn’t really matter, though. He acknowledged the truth of the situation as he pulled his truck out onto the highway and headed for the bridge that crossed the river into Mystic Ridge. A female shifter had been attacked, and the male shifters wouldn’t care who she was or to whom she belonged. They’d look at their girlfriends and wives, at their friends and family. They’d wonder who would be next.