Houston, Texas:

As Karl Markham slowly walked toward the booth, he noted that the restaurant was small and decorated with a wide assortment of what some interior designer would probably have called New Age Art Deco. In the corner, a man was strumming out songs on his guitar about love, war, and finding a voice in the sea of faces. He passed the booth, sticking the adhesive side of his dime-sized listening device to the underside of the table as he went by. He continued on to the bathroom without pause.

A few minutes later, Karl was sliding into another of the quaint restaurant booths and picked up the menu the waitress had placed on the table in front of him. He scanned the unappetizing menu, then idly looked out the window, watching the people strolling along the brightly lighted streets. Most were enjoying the break from the suffocating heat of the day. A late afternoon shower followed by a cold front had cooled things down. The evening was filled with couples and people hoping to hook up. He was here for an entirely different reason.

“What would you like to drink?” the waitress asked, pausing by his table.

“Water, no ice, and the steak,” he ordered.

The waitress wrinkled her nose. “The new chef just added that to the menu. How do you want it cooked?” she asked.

“Rare. I’ll take the potato fully loaded and Ranch on the side for my salad,” he requested, handing her the menu.

He sat back when she moved to the table behind him and listened as four women ordered. Three of them ordered salad while the fourth one mumbled something he couldn’t quite catch. Reaching into his jacket, he increased the volume of the earbud in his right ear so he could better hear the conversation.

“So, what do you think Avery is up to? She’s been all secretive and super-focused lately,” Maria Garcia asked.

“She went to Cosmos’ warehouse in Calais. She said she was taking a vacation,” Trudy Wilson chuckled.

“A vacation! Avery? Does she even know what one is?” Maria exclaimed in surprise.

“She does when it involves a huge-ass alien that has been trying to get her number for the last six months,” Rose Caine dryly replied.

“You shouldn’t talk about that stuff here,” the fourth woman, the one he hadn’t recognized, muttered in a barely audible voice.

“Amelia’s right. Someone might hear us,” Rose replied.

“So, who thinks the Cowboys have a chance at winning this coming Sunday?” Trudy said.

Karl looked up when the waitress came with his glass of water.

Over the next two hours, he listened to three out of the four women talk about everything from football to world politics while he ate his dinner. The fourth one didn’t speak unless she was asked a direct question and usually responded with a shrug, nod, or the minimum amount of words. He finished his meal and paid for it, delaying until the women finally stood up to leave. He watched the fourth woman as she walked away. He couldn’t see her face. She wore a large hat pulled down low and an oversized black coat.

A sense of unease ran through him when he saw her deliberately drop something on the floor. She glanced around the room as she brought her booted foot down onto the silver disk. He winced when his earbud loudly screeched in his ear.

Her gaze locked on his face for a brief moment before she turned and hurried after the other women. He pulled the earpiece from his ear and slid it into his pocket, then he rose from his seat and walked over to the silver disk. He stooped and picked up the broken remains of the listening device.

Wrapping his fingers around the device, he hurriedly threaded his way between the tables and out of the restaurant. He looked both ways, and clenched his fist when he couldn’t see where the women had gone. He needed more information—especially about the woman called Amelia.

Karl turned and started walking back toward his car. The back of his neck tingled, and he stepped into the shadowed doorway of a closed store. He scanned the area.

He was sure he was being followed. That was almost funny. It wasn’t often that the predator became the prey. The feeling passed after several minutes. He saw nothing out of the ordinary in the crowd.

He was about to step back out when he saw the darkly clothed woman from the restaurant standing across the street. She was staring intensely in his direction, trying to see into the shadows where he had disappeared. He smiled. This one was smart.

A large, noisy group passed his doorway, and Karl matched their pace, blending in with the crowd. At the corner, he parted ways with the happy party and headed for his car. It was parked several blocks away.

Ten minutes later he merged into traffic. The leads had come full circle back to Cosmos Raines Industries. They were the link to the alien Karl had captured.

His work for Keiser was finished, but who could let something like this go? The research doctor had her chance to experiment on the alien, and now Dr. Margaret Rockman and a handful of men hired to safeguard the project were dead. It was Raines who had interfered. To find his missing alien, it was only logical to follow those who knew where he was—and these women appeared to have that information.

Karl was pulling into the circular entrance of the hotel he was staying in when his cell phone vibrated. He reached down and pulled it out of his pocket. A quick glance at the screen identified the caller.

“Yes?” he asked in a terse voice.

“The men I hired to bring in the alien’s girlfriend are dead. There are police all over the building,” Weston Wright answered.

“And the alien?” he demanded.

“I heard an old woman telling one of the police officers that Banks’ had an unusual man with her,” Weston replied.

“And you don’t know where they are now. Where are you now?” Karl asked his half-brother.

“Still in Portland,” Weston replied.

Karl thought for a moment. “My flight gets in at nine tomorrow morning. Pick me up at the airport,” he ordered.

“Do you know where she might be going?” Weston asked.

“Yes. I’ll tell you tomorrow,” he replied before he ended the call.

Several minutes later, his car was valeted and Karl was in his penthouse room, standing in front of the windows that overlooked Houston’s downtown. In the distance, he could see the glowing dark red sign on CRI ‘s corporate high rise.

His thoughts returned to Addie Banks. It had taken Weston three days to locate her due to the seized records. She had only been working at Keiser for a few days as a custodian. She was single, deaf, and working her way through school. There was nothing to indicate that she was cooperating with CRI, the police, or the government. She had just been in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and had seen too much.

Karl looked down at the cell phone in his hand. Pressing a series of numbers, he waited until the call was answered by an airline agent and he ordered a plane ticket to Portland for the next morning. Once the ticket had been purchased, he made another call.

“Digs,” the deep male voice said.

“I need equipment,” Karl curtly replied.

“Account,” Digs said.

“KM185,” Karl answered.

“What do you need, sir?” Digs asked, his tone suddenly cautious.

Karl smirked. Money and power could buy anything—but fear gave a man the edge he needed for complete control.

He calmly gave his order, knowing it would be delivered to his half-brother by the time he arrived. Digs repeated the list of weapons that Karl had requested along with a delivery time. Once his purchase was completed, Karl slid his cell phone back into his pocket.

Turning away from the window, he pulled the chair out from the desk, sat down, opened his laptop, and logged in. In minutes, he was scanning the encrypted files of the CIA database, searching for all the information he could find about Avery Lennox and Amelia. A heated curse slipped from his lips when he was alerted that the files he’d been trying to access had triggered a location search. He quickly abandoned his research, closing down the laptop. A thoughtful frown creased his brow. It appeared that CRI was hiding more than just aliens.

“What else is there that you don’t want the rest of the world to know about?” he mulled, swiveling in his chair to stare at CRI’s high rise.

Seaside, Oregon

The gas pump clicked off, and Karl replaced the hose, glancing up as Weston walked toward him with a grin on his face. The three boys that Weston had been talking to looked excited. Each boy was dressed in dark gear and was carrying a backpack. Karl could see different colored splatters on their clothing.

“What’s that about?” Karl asked.

“I recruited some extra help to create a diversion. They are going to shoot up the house and draw Merrick away. I told them we had a friend staying there and wanted to play a practical joke on him,” Weston said, opening the passenger door.

“And they believed you?” Karl asked.

“Are you kidding? All I had to do was wave a hundred dollar bill and promise another one when they were finished and those boys were willing to do anything I asked,” Weston gloated.

Karl tightened his mouth in annoyance. “This could complicate matters. I told you I didn’t want to bring anyone else in on this,” he said, opening his door and sliding into the driver’s seat.

Weston followed him in, and shut his door. “I’ve seen what that alien can do more than you have. Shoot the kids if they get in your way, but I’m not taking any chances. I’ll give you a word of advice. If you get a clear shot to kill the bastard—take it. He isn’t some fucking moron that will shit his pants if he knows you are hunting him. This guy will relish the battle and not stop until he has either won or is dead,” he replied.

Karl started the car. “Oh, I understand exactly who and what kind of predator he is, little brother. I also know exactly where I’m going to mount his body when I’m done playing with him,” he responded.

Weston didn’t respond. Karl knew his brother. Weston was weak. He would rather hide behind someone else than risk his own neck. Weston also knew that Karl wouldn’t hesitate to leave him behind if it was necessary.

Weston had been right in his assessment of the alien. That was what fascinated him the most. He relished the opportunity to pit his own wits and cunning against someone he considered almost his equal.

A half hour later, Karl turned onto the long road that led to the Banks’ cottage. The house was situated between the ocean on the west and a lake on the east. He slowed down as they passed the neighbor’s house on the corner. The shutters over the windows were closed, and the driveway was littered with leaves. It seemed no one was staying there at the moment. Karl parked in front.

“See if you can find evidence of anyone at the Banks’ cottage,” he ordered.

Weston picked up a pair of binoculars from between the seats and rolled down his window. Karl scanned the area in front of him, picking out places where he could set up. A moment later, Weston lowered the binoculars to his lap and rolled the window back up.

“It’s her car,” Weston replied.

“I’ll circle around, and we’ll park near the house at the end of the road. When did you tell those boys to come?” he asked.

Karl listened as Weston outlined his plan. The boys would shoot their paintball guns and draw Merrick out. Karl would then shoot the alien with a tranquilizer while Weston went inside and had fun with Addie Banks. Then they would enact Karl’s plan to take her with them, and leave the alien there with a map showing where to find Addie—or what remained of her by the time Weston was done with her. Karl knew from the tests performed on the alien that the man had an advanced sense of smell and would recognize what had occurred while he was unconscious.

Weston wasn’t excited about any part of the plan except his time with Addie. Karl had always liked a challenge more than his half-brother, and there was nothing like the rush of hunting a hurting, desperate creature that knew it was about to die. Karl wasn’t stupid, though. He realized that the alien was a very dangerous beast unlike anything or anyone he had ever hunted before. Because of that, he would take extra precautions to ensure that he had the advantage. The hunt would be in a setting that he controlled.