Page 32 of Bengal's Heart (Breeds 14)

Her teeth snapped together at the thought of love. She had never allowed herself to think of Cabal in terms of love. She had deliberately forced herself to never think in those terms. Unconsciously though, perhaps she had thought in those terms anyway. After all, she knew how mated couples loved, she had seen it, envied it over the years.

What had made her think that simply mating her would make Cabal love her?

Because she loved him?

She shook her head and turned around to stalk back to the parking lot. As she neared the pavement, her gaze was caught by the car pulling into the entrance to the park and the curly red hair of the man driving.

She almost smiled.

She had left a message on the reporter’s cell phone as she left the hotel earlier, though she hadn’t expected him to show up rather than calling her back.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” A quiet smile crossed Myron’s freckled face as he opened the car door and stepped out of the car. “I heard you were in town before you called. Heard you were being shadowed by some Bengal with an attitude too.”

“News travels fast.” Cassa shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket as a capricious wind tugged at her hair and whipped it across her face. “Is the Bengal why you haven’t checked out the rumor?”

She had expected to hear from Myron earlier. She hadn’t called before now because she knew his wife, Patricia, could be a jealous little shrew. She liked Patricia, but she didn’t want to be the cause of yet another fight that Myron had to deal with because she had called.

“The Bengal might have had something to do with it.” A rueful grin tugged at his lips as he pulled his denim jacket closer and gazed around the park rather than meeting her eyes. “This place has been getting a lot of attention lately. Ever since Banks’s disappearance, you can count on seeing at least a couple of Breeds a week here. Not to mention the government types that have made an appearance.”

“Government types?” Cassa tilted her head to the side as she stared back at him, noting the somber sadness in his pale blue eyes.

Myron shrugged at the question. “There was a government agent roaming around a few days before your Bengal showed up. Just after he arrived, a team of Coyotes showed up. I didn’t know Banks was that damned popular. Personally, I think the world is a better place without him.”

Cassa watched him in surprise. “What did you know about Banks that no one’s telling me?”

Myron snorted at that. “Plenty. You don’t live here, Cass. I’ve tried to tell you about small towns and you never want to listen.”

Myron had always said they were a law unto themselves, and that it was that simple. That they band together to protect themselves or fight the enemy. They were independent and head-strong.

“So what are the good citizens of Glen Ferris banding together to hide?”

He shook his head before plowing his large hands through the shaggy, fiery curls that covered his head.

“Banks was a bastard.” He breathed out roughly. “He and his buddies got together around here about once a year. Brandenmore and Engalls and a bunch of others. They liked to hunt.” A shadow passed across his expression for a brief second.

“I’ve heard they liked to hunt two-legged prey more often than four-legged,” she guessed. “Banks was rumored to be a part of a group of men that hunted Breeds.”

Myron’s nostrils flared as a cold breeze whipped around the lot.

“A lot of Breeds were hunted in a lot of places,” he snapped out. “Not just here.”

He knew more than he was telling, Cassa could feel it. She knew Myron. They’d worked together before her marriage, and after Douglas’s death, it had been Myron who helped her through the first bitter months of realization. She knew him as well as she could know anyone.

“What’s going on, Myron?” She pushed her hair back from her face, her gaze turning to the entrance of the park, where several cars pulled out and another pulled in.

; “You should go home, Cassa.”

She was getting really tired of being told to go home.

“Rather than what?” she asked quietly. “I’m here to find out what happened to Banks, not to turn tail and run because no one wants to talk.”

“There’s no fucking story,” Myron bit out angrily. “Banks was a crazy bastard that liked to drink. He’s probably drifting in the current of that damned river somewhere and just has yet to surface. Give the fucker time, he’ll show up.”

The wealth of hatred in Myron’s tone had Cassa staring back at him, more than surprised now. She was shocked at the fury that brightened his gaze and flushed his face.

“He was mayor here for eight years,” she said quietly. “Voted in and supposedly loved by all the citizens of the county. Then he just disappears and the sheriff can’t get so much as a dozen citizens together to search for him.”