The Rogue Hunter

"That was my boss, Mr. Babcock, on the phone."



Mortimer nodded at this announcement from Sam as she reached him. He'd suspected as much. "Is he contacting the girl's parents?"



"Yes. He's probably calling them right now," she answered, and then blurted, "But he asked me to stay here and keep an eye on"-Sam hesitated, her gaze sliding to Constable Mack, before she simply said-"things until he or the Latimers can get here. And I agreed."



"Of course," Mortimer murmured, not at all surprised.



"If you're staying," Constable Mack piped up, "I could call the Dominion for you and see if they can find you a room for the night. It's the hotel here in Minden. It's on Main Street."



"Oh, thank you," Sam said, offering him a wide, surprised smile for his helpfulness. Apparently it was the last thing she'd expected after the completely unhelpful behavior of his sergeant. Mortimer doubted she'd be so surprised if she knew the role she'd played in the fantasy the man had enjoyed moments ago. He was just bending a scowl on the officer for his "helpfulness" when Sam said, "But Mr. Babcock asked me to stay at the Latimers', in one of the guest cottages."



Mortimer was just relaxing over the fact that there was no need for the man's helpfulness when she added, "But I'll probably need a ride out to the Latimers' after we get this report business done, if you wouldn't mind."



That brought the scowl right back to Mortimer's mouth. "You don't need a ride. I'm here. I'll drive you."



"Oh." Sam glanced at him uncertainly. "I thought you'd want to head back to the cottage right away rather than wait around. That way you wouldn't be on the road too late."



Mortimer was silent for a minute as he considered the matter. The fact was, under different circumstances he might very well have felt he had to leave her and return to Decker and Bricker and their hunt. But this disappearance bothered him. While the abandoned state of the house with the uneaten sandwich, the still-playing music, and the open door convinced Sam that foul play was involved, the fact that there was no sign at all of struggle was what bothered him. It might seem unusual to Sam and other mortals, but it was something he'd seen many times while working cases involving rogue immortals. His kind could slip into a mortal's mind and walk them out the door with no muss, no fuss, and little effort at all.



The problem was that up to this point they'd thought their rogue was just running around biting locals. A no-no, but as long as he or she wasn't doing lasting harm, they would have merely found out the who, what, and why of it all and then passed the individual over to the Council to deal with. Nobody had really thought they had a mad dog on their hands or someone dangerous.



This was not something they liked to admit to their mortal friends or even the younger of their kind, but the fact was, sometimes older immortals grew weary of cold, bagged blood and longed for the "good old days" of the hunt. In such cases they had been known to sneak about and eat "off the hoof." Once caught, they usually agreed to stop and went back to bagged blood, or they were invited to move to Europe, where the practice of eating "off the hoof" was more acceptable. That was what Mortimer had expected to find here; a lonely old immortal, bored with eating bagged blood, and seeking out the intimacy of biting mortals.



But Cathy Latimer's disappearance changed all that. The lack of any sign of a struggle suggested an immortal was involved, and if their rogue was behind this, the girl wouldn't have been taken away for a good purpose. Mortimer feared Cathy's bloodless body probably now lay somewhere in the woods awaiting discovery by mortals, and that would not be a good thing for his kind. Most of Mortimer's family had been wiped out by vampire hunters during the hysteria after the release of Stoker's damned book. Finding a young girl drained of her lifeblood, but with no wounds but fang marks, might lead to the same hysteria and see more of his kind hunted down and killed. It was the kind of thing he'd become a hunter to prevent. Cathy Latimer had to be found. If she was alive and he had misread all this, then good, but if she was dead at the hands of an immortal as he feared, then her body would have to be burned or otherwise destroyed.



He needed to talk to Decker and Bricker about this, but Mortimer suspected he was going to be staying in the area and helping Sam with her search. Or hindering it if necessary.



"Can you find your way back to Magnetawan on your own?" Sam asked, dragging him from his thoughts.



"Of course I can find my way back," he said with irritation.



"I'm sure there'll be no problem with my driving you out to the Latimers' after we finish with the report," Constable Mack said helpfully. "If worse came to worst and Belmont had a problem with it, my shift is done in an hour and I could take you on my own time."



Mortimer found himself glaring at the young man again. He'd just bet the fellow wouldn't mind taking her on his own time, but he wasn't going to get the chance.



"I'll take her out," he said firmly. "Now let's get to those reports."



It took much longer than Mortimer had expected to fill out the reports, mostly, he suspected, because young Mack was taking as much time about it as he could just to keep Sam there as long as possible. He probably hoped Mortimer would get tired of the long delay and head back to Magnetawan, leaving him free to drive Sam out to the Latimers'. Mortimer knew his suspicions were right when, halfway through the process, Constable Mack apologized for the time it was taking and again assured him he'd be happy to drive Sam out to the Latimers' if Mortimer wished to leave.



Mortimer's response was a snort that brought confusion to Sam's face and understanding to Constable Mack's. Apparently realizing that he wasn't going to be left alone with her, the constable stopped dragging his feet and hurried the process along.



While Sam was busy signing papers, Mortimer excused himself and stepped outside to call Decker. It was nearly nine o'clock and still light out, but it was the gray light of dusk. He wasn't surprised, however, when the phone was answered. The men were probably waiting to hear back from him, he thought as he recognized Decker's voice.



"Is Bricker nearby?" Mortimer asked at once, not bothering with a hello.



"Yes, do you want to talk to him?" Decker asked, sounding surprised.



"No. Yes, but to both of you at once," Mortimer explained. "Call Bricker into the room if he isn't there and then put me on speakerphone."



"He's here," Decker said, and then a click sounded and he asked, "Can you hear me?"



"Yeah," Mortimer assured him.



"Hey Mort. How's it hangin'? Are you getting any or is Sam playing hard to get?" Bricker teased, letting him know he was there.



"Bricker?" he said grimly.



"Yeah?" the younger man asked, his smile evident in his tone of voice.



"I will remember this and repay you accordingly when you finally meet your life mate," he said silkily.



"I think you've pissed him off, Bricker," Decker said with amusement.



Mortimer just shook his head and launched into a quick rundown of what he and Sam had found at the Latimer cottage.



A prolonged silence followed when he finished, and then Decker said, "You're thinking it's our rogue and that he's gone beyond just biting now."



"What?" Bricker said, sounding surprised over the phone. "How do you figure that? I mean, yeah, the cottage being in tip-top condition and the food left out and door open might suggest an immortal's involvement, but the Latimer cottage is in Minden, a good two hours from us here in Magnetawan. Are you two thinking we have more than one rogue, or what?"



Mortimer frowned. This issue hadn't occurred to him. Two hours was quite a distance for the rogue to go. It made for a large feeding ground. Perhaps he'd been influenced by a wish to stay with Sam and built a whole scenario that was-



"The bite marks weren't just spotted here in Magnetawan," Decker said, interrupting his thoughts. "There were reports in Huntsville, Bracebridge, and Gravenhurst. Minden isn't that far away."



Mortimer's eyebrows rose at this news. "I didn't know the bites had been spotted anywhere but Magnetawan."



Decker gave a dry laugh. "Then Uncle Lucian's slipping. But then he's a little distracted by wedding plans and Leigh at the moment and not as efficient as usual."



A smile curved Mortimer's lips at the mention of the head of the Council and Leigh, his life mate. Mortimer and Bricker had been there when Lucian had first encountered the woman. Neither of them had any idea then that the two would end up life mates. Of course, she'd been unconscious at the time. On the second occasion that they'd seen them together, however... Mortimer's smile widened at the memory. He'd never seen Lucian act as he had around Leigh. It had been easy to tell they were meant for each other.



"Uncle Lucian couriered the full report when he realized he hadn't given it to you and Bricker. It arrived today," Decker added.



"I see," Mortimer murmured slowly. "Are they still thinking one rogue or a group of them now?"



"One," Decker responded. "The reports of bite sightings are far enough apart in both time and distance that they think it's one. And whoever it is obviously isn't surviving off biting mortals alone unless there are a hell of a lot that aren't noticed or reported."



"Or that just go missing and aren't recognized as one of his victims," Mortimer said quietly.



"Yeah," Decker muttered, sounding unhappy.



Mortimer considered what he'd just learned and then said, "It might help us out to contact Bastien and have him make the boys at the Argeneau Blood Bank send us a list of anyone they deliver blood to up here. It will give us a short list of immortals in the area that we can question. Our rogue may be one of them."



"Good thinking," Decker said. "I'll call Bastien about ABB as soon as I get off here. Do you want Bricker and me to come down there to help with the search for this Latimer girl?"



Mortimer frowned as he considered the situation, and then said, "No. This looks like a rogue's involved, but may not be. Until I have a little more evidence one way or the other I'd rather not pull you two off our original grid search or the area. You two keep on with that, and Sam and I will look for Cathy."



"Okay," Decker agreed.



"Yo, hey Mort?" Bricker said just as Mortimer opened his mouth to say good-bye.



"Yeah?" he asked warily.



"What about clothes and blood and stuff? You want us to bring you supplies?"



Mortimer hesitated; he hadn't considered that. But it was a two-hour drive and he'd be dragging the two men away from their own search...



"We're kind of headed down that way anyway," Decker announced suddenly, and then explained, "We marked all the reported bite sightings on a map of the area and then found the center. For some reason Bricker thinks that's most likely where the rogue's home base is."



"I saw it on a cop show on television," Bricker said defensively. "Or maybe it was a movie. Anyway, if you work out the center, that's usually where the bad guy lives."



"And where's the center?" Mortimer asked, half amused and half curious. While the idea sounded nuts, it just might work.



"The middle of Cardwell Lake," Decker answered.



"You think he has a home or cottage there?" Mortimer asked.



"Maybe," Decker admitted. "Stranger things have happened. We're going to check that out tonight. We were going to wait for your return, but now we'll probably head right out after I call ABB for that list you suggested. Bricker could throw some clothes and blood together for you while I make the call, and you could meet us at Cardwell Lake. It would cut your trip in half."



"And I could jog next door and see if Sam's sister's can throw some clothes together for her too," Bricker put in.



"Good thinking," he agreed, and then added, "All right, I'll take Sam back to the Latimers' and then meet you two at Cardwell Lake. I'll call your cell when I get there so you can let me know exactly where you are."



"Sounds good," Decker said.



"To me too," Bricker agreed, and then asked, "Is there anything special you want me to pack for you? Something Sam will think is sexy?"



"Bricker," Mortimer growled in warning.



"Oh, you don't have anything sexy, do you," the younger man went on, ignoring him. "I could loan you something."



"Justin," he snapped.



"You'd look good in my black leather pants," Bricker continued blithely, and Mortimer could hear Decker chuckling in the background. "They might be a little tight, but they look best that way anyway, and-Oh hey! I just got this new zebra-striped thong before the trip. It's never been worn; you could-"



Mortimer snapped his cell phone closed, cutting off his annoying partner, but a smile was also tugging on his lips. A zebra-striped thong? Dear God! Although the leather pants might not have gone amiss... he had noticed the way women looked at Bricker when he was wearing his leather pants, and wouldn't have minded Sam looking at him that way.



Sam paced the small front room of the Latimers' guest cottage, and then paused at the window to peer out over the dark landscape. All there was to see was inky blackness. Anything could have been standing cloaked in darkness on the other side of the window and she wouldn't know it. She should have been used to that from her own family's cottage, but this wasn't her family's cottage. This was one of the Latimers' guest cabins, and Sam wasn't terribly comfortable in it. She was very aware that Cathy Latimer had gone missing from the main house not a hundred feet behind the cabin she was in. That knowledge was creeping her out. What if Cathy had been kidnapped? What if whoever had taken her was still around? What if-?



She stopped that train of thought at once, knowing it couldn't lead anywhere good. It didn't stop her wishing that Mortimer would hurry and get back so she was no longer alone. He'd brought her directly here after leaving the OPP station. They'd arrived to find Sergeant Belmont standing around with a couple of his constables, looking officious but not actually doing anything useful.



The man had admitted that the situation appeared fishy and promised that he'd look into the matter. He'd then been reluctant to hand over the keys to the property. Sam had been forced to call her boss, and have him call the Latimers in Europe, to have them call Belmont on his own cell phone, to tell him they wanted her to stay there and he had their permission to give her the keys.



Martin Latimer had then apparently asked to speak to her. Tight-lipped, Belmont had handed over his phone and stomped off to kick at rocks and branches a little distance away. Mr. Latimer had thanked Sam for what she was doing and assured her she was welcome to use anything at the estate while there. In the meantime, he was working on arranging a flight back. He hoped he and his wife, Trisha, would be able to return to Canada the next day and be up at the cottage by evening.



Sam had assured him she'd do what she could until they arrived, but couldn't offer much reassurance to the man. He wouldn't be reassured until his daughter was found safe and sound. The moment the phone call had ended, Sam had approached Belmont and traded the mobile phone for Cathy's keys. At least most of them. He'd kept the key to the house, claiming it was a crime scene and she couldn't enter. The man and his officers had left shortly after.



Once they were gone, Mortimer had joined her on a tour of the three guest cottages on the property, holding her arm to steady her as they traveled the paths in the darkening evening. He'd stayed until she'd decided which cabin to use and then had headed back to Magnetawan. But he was returning. Mortimer was only heading back to get them both a change of clothes and some groceries to last them a day or so, and then he was making the long drive back. Sam had assured him that wasn't necessary and that she'd manage okay without his going to so much trouble, but he'd waved her words away, assured her he'd be back as quickly as he could, and driven off.



Sam had been pacing ever since. She turned now and walked the length of the small room again, her gaze moving absently over the furniture and accessories. It was very nice as guest cottages went, she supposed. At least everything was expensive-looking, but it was also tiny, with two well-appointed but small bedrooms taking up the back of the cottage and this room in front with a kitchenette on one side and a sitting area just big enough to hold a couch and chair on the other. It was also the cottage closest to the lake. By then she'd known Mortimer intended to return, however, and the two bedrooms were really why she'd chosen it.



Not that her sisters expected them to use both rooms, Sam thought dryly as she recalled the phone call she'd made as soon as Garrett Mortimer left. Bricker hadn't yet arrived at the cottage in search of clothes for her, so she'd gotten to break the news of what was happening to them. Both Jo and Alex had been up in arms about her staying until they'd heard the part about Mortimer staying with her. Suddenly they hadn't minded at all. That was when the sly suggestions and innuendo had started. She'd been relieved to end that conversation as well.



Sam paced the room once more, again pausing to peer out into the darkness. There was still nothing for her to see. There was also nothing to eat, and nothing to do in the cottage, and this endless waiting was driving her crazy. The heat wasn't helping. The cottage had been tightly closed up and was terribly warm inside despite the overhead fans being on for the last... Her gaze slid to her watch to see that it had been almost four hours since Garrett Mortimer had left her.



Four hours. She bit her lip and glanced outside again, but there was no sudden flash of headlights on the trees announcing his return. Sam knew she was expecting too much to even hope for that. She probably had another hour wait before she could expect him back, Sam realized and grimaced, unsure she could bear another minute there, let alone sixty.



The sound of a boat engine drew her gaze to the lake, and Sam saw the bow light of a boat cruise slowly into view. She stood still, watching it move by. The light was nearly out of sight before she heard the sound of the water washing up on the beach.



The sound made her think of how cool the lake must be and how lovely it would feel on her overheated skin. She then wondered if Jo and Alex were taking a night swim that very moment. When the sound of the boat engine died in the distance, Sam turned to grab the flashlight, one of the first things she'd looked for after Mortimer had left. She went into the tiny bathroom that ate up a corner of the sitting area and grabbed a beach towel from the rack before flicking on the flashlight and moving back across the room.



Sam paused at the screen door, suddenly nervous about stepping out into the darkness, but then remonstrated with herself over being a coward and shone the light on the ground before stepping outside.



She'd just go for a quick swim. Just a dunk, really, Sam assured herself, enough to cool off, and then she'd return to the cabin to wait for Mortimer. It was better than pacing a rut in the hardwood floor of the cottage.



Sam shone her flashlight over the sloping land between where she stood and the beach. She then shifted the beam to her left and then her right, telling herself as she did that she wasn't really looking for kidnappers or even serial killers lurking behind trees.



It was hard to fool oneself, however, and Sam rolled her eyes at the yellow streak she'd apparently developed as she turned the light forward once more and started cautiously off the porch. The fifty feet to the Latimer dock were the longest Sam had ever traversed. Between her repeated stops to shine the flashlight over the surrounding trees, her own inability to maintain her balance as she glanced nervously around at every tiny rustle of sound, and then the need to pick herself back up off the ground each time she lost that balance and fell, the walk probably took five times as long as it should have.



By the time Sam reached the beach, she was sorely regretting the urge that had brought her out. She was also swearing to herself that she would never again delay heading to the doctor's to have any complaint taken care of. Thanks to her ear infection, she was sure she'd bruised herself in at least three different places and scraped her palms something fierce.



Relief slithered through Sam as she stepped off the path and felt sand underfoot. Some of the lakes were all rock and leeches were a problem, but either this lake was naturally sandy or the Latimers had shipped sand in. Either way, as long as she stayed away from the rocks she could see off to the side and protruding from the water, she should be fine.



After dropping her towel on the ground, Sam took a moment to run her flashlight over the trees behind her one more time. When nothing seemed out of place and no one leaped out at her, she turned out the light. For a moment Sam couldn't see a bloody thing and nearly turned it back on, but then her eyes began to pick up the moonlight reflecting off the lake and she was slowly able to make out more.



Letting out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, Sam set the flashlight on the dark shape that was her towel, and then moved forward to dip one foot into the water. Lovely, she thought, and quickly stripped, removing her shorts and panties first and dropping them onto the towel before reaching for the hem of her T-shirt. That soon joined her shorts, as did the bra that she didn't really need, and Sam turned back to the lake. The water was cool against her heated skin as she walked into it, but not unpleasantly so, and she closed her eyes and sighed as it began to draw the heat from her body. The liquid lapped higher as she continued forward, caressing her calves, her knees, her thighs, her-



A small gasp slid from her lips as the cold water reached her groin and a slight frisson of shock ran through her, but she knew it would pass quickly, and kept going until the water covered her breasts. Leaning back in the water then, Sam let it soak into her hair as she peered up at the stars overhead. She was just noting that there didn't seem to be as many of the twinkling lights here as there were visible in Magnetawan, and wondering why that would be, when the snap of a branch caught her ear.



Stiffening in the water, Sam lifted her head to peer toward shore, eyes widening when she saw a dark figure standing onshore beside her towel. Panic was just starting to course through her when she recognized Mortimer's shape.



"You're back sooner than I expected," she called, relief thick in her voice.



"Decker and Bricker met me halfway to save me some driving," he explained.



Sam's eyebrows rose. In that case, he'd taken much longer than he should have. She supposed he'd stopped to have a coffee with Decker and Bricker, though, before returning. Considering the trouble they'd gone to and the driving they'd saved him, it seemed only right. She didn't comment, however. Her mind was on other matters as it suddenly occurred to her that she was stark naked in the water. A quick glance down assured her that all the important bits were under water. She glanced back to Mortimer and said, "It's hot in the cottage. I thought I'd cool off. I'm glad you're back though; I was getting hungry."



"So am I," Mortimer said, and Sam stilled. The words were husky and carried a suggestive tone that made her eyes sharpen.



Surely he hadn't meant what it sounded like, she thought, and simply gaped as he suddenly tugged his T-shirt off and dropped it on her own pile of clothes. His jeans quickly followed, and then Mortimer walked forward into the water.



Sam's eyes were wide open, but all she could see of his body in the darkness was shadow and more shadow. She couldn't help but think it was a damned shame she'd left her flashlight on shore. In the next moment, these thoughts fled and her heart rate sped up as she realized he was wading straight toward her. Sam had the brief urge to flee for shore, but it was very brief and easily overwhelmed by an even stronger urge to wait and see what would happen. She was distinctly recalling the passion and fervor of those moments outside the restaurant in town, and her body was growing heavy and tingly with anticipation.



Mortimer continued steadily forward until he was a bare few inches away and then stopped abruptly. He then stood silently, perhaps allowing her the time to protest or flee, but when a moment passed and she did neither, he reached out, slid a hand into her wet hair, and drew her forward.



Sam went willingly, sucking in a little gasp of air as their bodies brushed together in the water, and then his mouth was on hers. The kiss started out gentle, almost questing. He was obviously making an effort to go slow, but Sam didn't need slow. Either just the memory of what had happened earlier had wound her up for this, or that earlier passion had never really died, merely been buried under other concerns. The need and yearning and aching want he'd stirred then came roaring back to life almost the moment his lips covered hers. Sam barely managed to remain quiescent in his arms for the first moments of his gentle kisses before her body acted of its own accord. It wrapped itself around him like a wet blanket, legs closing around his hips and arms around his shoulders even as her mouth opened under his.



Mortimer immediately gave up any semblance of questing or gentleness. His tongue slid out to invade, his kiss becoming demanding, and his hands began to move over her, cupping, fondling, and squeezing even as they urged her tighter still against him so that she rubbed against his hardness where it was trapped between them.



Sam groaned into his mouth with pleading. She was sure every last drop of water had been squeezed out from between them and still it wasn't enough. The lake suddenly didn't seem so delightfully cool. It almost seemed they were heating the water with their passion, and then Mortimer tore his mouth away and began to trail kisses downward as the hand at her bottom lifted her up slightly.



Sam let her head fall backward with a groan, offering her throat to him, and he paid it due homage, but it was just a passing pleasure; his mouth soon continued down and he lifted her higher out of the water until he could latch on to one erect nipple. That brought another gasp from her, and she shifted her hands to his head to hold on as he drew the bud into his mouth and laved it lovingly. Her hips were now shifting against his stomach, her legs now caught around him above his hips, and she missed the hardness of his erection between them. Sam had no sooner had the thought than Mortimer's hand dipped down and brushed lightly over the open center of her.



Despite her thoughts of a moment ago, that was too much for Sam. She'd never experienced pleasure this intense. It was as if she were experiencing it in some sort of strange echo chamber. The pleasure seemed to redouble with each touch and caress until it filled her head and body. Crying out, she kicked her legs free and tugged on his head, forcing it away from her breast and upward so that she could reclaim his lips as she slid down his body. Sam kissed him almost desperately then, little mewls of pleading sounding in her throat.



Mortimer kissed her back as she demanded. She was vaguely aware of his moving them toward shore, and when sand brushed against the bottoms of her feet, she instinctively jerked them upward and then wrapped them around his hips again. That was when she felt the shift of muscles under her legs and realized he was walking, but the movement was rubbing his hardness against her core again with each step, and all she could do was moan and arch into the caress as she was bombarded with wave after wave of increasing pleasure.



Apparently Mortimer was affected too because halfway back to shore he changed direction, and after a couple more steps, she felt cold stone against her bottom. Letting her feet drop so that she was standing, Sam glanced around as he again broke their kiss. She saw that he'd taken her only as far as the nearest half-submerged boulder, and something niggled at her mind, but then Mortimer urged her to lean back against the rock and began to lick and suckle at her breasts again.



Moaning, Sam allowed herself to be distracted and slid her hands into his hair to hold on as he was bowed over her like a branch, leaning her back over the boulder. Her hips and legs were trapped against the front of it by his as he concentrated on first one breast and then the other. Each shift of his body made his erection rub against her enticingly, and Sam was gasping and almost whimpering, the fingers of one hand tangled in his hair and the nails of the other no doubt scoring his shoulder as wave after mounting wave of pleasure accosted her.



When he lifted his head and caught her mouth with his, she opened for him and gasped as his tongue thrust in, rasping her own. But she wanted more. She wanted him inside her, thrusting into her like that. Her body was actually aching and weeping for him.



Much to Sam's relief, Mortimer seemed to want it too because he suddenly caught her at the waist and lifted her to sit on the edge of the boulder. She immediately spread her knees for him to step between them and then when he did, kissed him without reservation, thrusting her own tongue inside to wrestle with his. At the same time, her hand moved to his behind to squeeze and urge him forward as her feet rose to push against the submerged front of the rock and shift her lower body forward until his hips were cradled between her open knees.



Mortimer urged her back to lie on the boulder as he kissed her, but then, much to her dismay, he paused. She blinked her eyes open, staring up at the dark shape of his head and-though she couldn't see his face in the darkness-she heard the strain in his voice as he asked, "Are you sure?"



"Are you kidding me?" The words slid out on a disbelieving laugh before she could catch them back, and then she bit her lip. Most men wouldn't have had the strength to give her the option to back out at this stage. She owed it to him to at least consider it seriously, Sam thought, and did just that. The facts were they'd known each other only a couple of days. There had been no promises. This could be a one-time deal, a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am-and-he-disappears thing. She'd never had a fling in her life and had, in fact, only had one lover prior to this. Oh yeah, and they had no protection. She could get a venereal disease, or pregnant, or-



Dear God, what the hell was she thinking? Sam screamed silently as all her excitement of a moment ago began to rapidly wane. She was just trying to figure out a way to tell him that she wasn't so sure after all when she became aware that his hand was moving over her hip in a probing manner that had nothing to do with the heat and passion of a moment ago.



"What?" she asked with bewilderment when he suddenly moved back a bit and bent to look at her hip.



"I'm not sure," Mortimer muttered. "Just a minute. Stay here."



Much to her amazement, he was suddenly gone, splashing through the shallow water to shore. Sitting up on the boulder, Sam stared after him with incredulity as he bent to pick up something.



"What is it?" Sam asked with confusion. She didn't realize he'd grabbed the flashlight until he turned it on and the beam hit her square in the eyes.



"Sorry." Mortimer turned it down along her body and then around to her hip where his attention had been captured. "I just-Oh... That's not good."



Sam blinked rapidly to try to recover her vision and twisted to look where he was shining the flashlight beam. She found herself staring at some sort of dark spot on her hip. She stared at it blankly and then realized there were more than one. She could see at least three fuzzy, dark spots that slowly came into focus.



Sam stared with dawning horror as she realized what they were... and that there were more than three.



"Leeches!" That horrified shriek tore from her throat as she threw herself wildly off the boulder. She hardly even noticed that she'd toppled Mortimer into the water; she was too busy scrambling out of the leech-filled lake and running for the cottage.