porch, knowing what he had to do next to ensure that she and all the other innocents in Raven’s Cliff would be released from the threat that hung over the town.
He’d done it once before, and his sacrifice had bought the town peace for five long years. Then, just a few months ago the curse had come back and the gods of the sea had risen up and demanded another sacrifice. He’d tried to appease them once already, but he’d been thwarted, and the townspeople had rejoiced at the woman’s safe return.
Just look what that got them, he thought in a flare of righteous indignation. An epidemic. A disease straight from the halls of hell, one that turns men twisted and evil.
As far as he was concerned, there was only one way to abate the curse and bring peace to the town of Raven’s Cliff.
Another Sea Bride would have to be sacrificed.
Chapter Two
Within twenty minutes of Luke and the others carrying the groggy Violent into the Raven’s Cliff Police Department, the briskly efficient officers on duty had gotten the patient secured in a cell and called in the chief of police and the mayor to meet with the CDC team.
After a round of introductions, Luke sent his teammates—clinical specialist May O’Malley, geneticist Bug Dufresne and biochemist Thom Harris—to check on the patients down in the holding cells and back at the clinic, and do something about Rox’s busted-in door.
Then, as Rox started telling the mayor and chief of police about what the CDC team could do that she couldn’t, Luke leaned back and watched them, dropping into detached-observer mode partly so he could avoid thinking about his own reaction to seeing Rox again, and partly because his job was often as much about local politics as it was medicine.
When he’d first left relief work for a coveted job as head of a CDC outbreak response team, he’d discovered that the protocol was pretty consistent whether he was covering an outbreak of hemorrhagic fever in Africa or a cluster of food poisoning from bad burgers in middle America. When he first showed up at an outbreak site, the powers that be always welcomed him with open arms, but as time passed, he invariably discovered local undercurrents that affected his ability to do his job.
As such, he made a point to figure out right away who was who among the players, and what they were likely to think about outside intervention.
In this case, he pegged Captain Patrick Swanson as a straight shooter who would help if asked and stay out of the way otherwise. The chief of police was a barrel- chested no-nonsense guy in his fifties, who came off as the epitome of a career cop who pretty much lived and breathed for his town. He was exactly the sort of guy Luke liked to have on his side.
Consistent with Rox’s warning, Mayor Perry Wells was another story. He was probably the same age as Swanson, but that was where the similarity ended. Even though he’d been rousted out of bed near midnight, the mayor was neatly put together in casual slacks and a designer pullover, and didn’t let his charm—or the perfectly calculated degree of tension on his face—slip for a second. Luke pegged him as a politician’s politician, and figured he’d be one to watch.
“I trust Roxanne implicitly,” the mayor said, turning to Luke. “If she says you’re the best man for the job, then I know we’re in good hands.”
Luke suppressed a grim smile. He knew damn well she hadn’t said anything of the sort—she’d called him “experienced” and “competent,” a description that, although accurate, was probably better than she thought he deserved.
Swanson said nothing, just kept looking from Rox to Luke and back again, as though trying to figure out the source of the obvious tension humming in the air between them, evident in the way she didn’t look at him unless she had to, and the distance that gapped between them in the wide lobby of the police station.
Luke was tempted to tell the police chief not to worry, that it was personal and wouldn’t affect the job. That he’d been a complete bastard to Roxie, saying he loved her and then taking off without an explanation.
Granted, there’d been an explanation once, but its statute of limitations had long since expired. Besides, Luke figured it was better to let her hate him and move on with her life than try to make excuses that would only complicate things further. As a doctor, he knew the clean cut was almost always preferable to lingering pain. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to keep it clean. The moment he’d gotten wind of her call to the CDC, he’d been on the phone mobilizing his team and pulling the strings necessary to get them assigned to Raven’s Cliff despite her having specifically said she didn’t want him.
She might not have wanted him, but from her brief description of the outbreak, he’d known she needed him, so he’d booked the flight and headed for north- coastal, middle-of-nowhere can’t-get-theyah-from-heyah Maine.
He’d told himself it was because he owed her, and because he was the best in the business. But now, standing in the same room with her, all too aware of how her short, light brown hair brushed against her sun-kissed cheeks, and how her soft hazel eyes skimmed over him rather than latching on, he knew he’d made a fatal mistake in coming to Raven’s Cliff.
If he’d really been thinking about her and about what he owed her, he would’ve stayed far away, because the moment she’d turned and looked at him out there in the rain, the moment their eyes had locked again after nearly two years apart, he was right back in that crazy, stirred-up place he’d been in the day he left her.
And damned if he didn’t want to jump back in and make exactly the same mistakes again, even knowing the things that’d come between them two years earlier hadn’t changed one iota. If anything, they’d gotten worse.
“What do you need from us?” Captain Swanson asked, unfolding from the cross-armed position he’d held as he leaned up against the front desk of the police station.
It took an almost physical effort for Luke to pull his attention away from Rox and focus on the case, warning him that he’d better get his head in the game, pronto.
“We’re going to need a place to spread out,” he said, thinking of the wide variety of scenes he and Rox had worked together before. “Someplace where we can safely restrain the violent patients, preferably with a couple of levels of security.” He paused, then turned to Rox. “You know the sort of place we need. Any suggestions?”
There was a long pause before she said, “There’s an abandoned monastery on the edge of town that’ll suit. It’s got several wings we can segregate, the rooms
have sturdy, lockable doors and there’s plenty of space for the lab equipment. The place is in the middle of the forest outside of town, and there’s a high fence surrounding the entire property.”
“Sounds perfect.” And it did sound perfect, but he could hear the reluctance in her tone, warning him that it wasn’t as simple as that. “What’s the bad news?”
She grimaced. “Depending on who you listen to, either the people who’ve lived there over the years have all been overly imaginative, or the place is haunted.” She lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “Either way, it gives me the creeps.”
Frankly, Luke was starting to think the whole town was creepy, from its pea-soup fog banks and the burned-out lighthouse he’d glimpsed from the road, to the haunted monastery and the sickness that turned normal people into monsters.
But he’d long ago learned that beneath differences in politics,
