Nyght's Eve (15 page)

“Eve...they’re gone.”

She shook her head in a jerky movement, then
looked back over toward the dogs. “We’ve been on rescues like this before. People
who breed dogs or keep them for dog fighting don’t care for them properly,
because they simply don’t care. They aren’t living, breathing animals to them.
They only represent the money they can make the bastards who do this kind of
thing. Dogs are resilient animals. They might be injured, but we still have to
check to see if we can save them.”

“Looks like these are bait dogs, boss,” Russ
said, his voice rough with emotion.

Before Dare could asked, Evie explained,
“Bait dogs are used to test the skill and aggressiveness of other fighting
dogs. Sometimes the owners will chain a bait dog up or confine them and let the
other dogs attack them.”

Evie tried to keep her voice calm and steady
even though all she wanted to do was scream out in horror at what she was
seeing. Every time she came across a situation like this it broke her
heart...literally smashed it to fucking pieces. To witness such cruelty to
animals who simply wanted to be loved and cared for was beyond reprehensible.

It was evil.

She was aware of Dare beside her as she
checked the first two dogs. When she realized they weren’t breathing, she laid
her hand on their necks and hoped they were finally at peace. From the various
scars and wounds over their bodies, she knew they were right when they had
guessed the dogs had been used for baiting. She let the tears fall, feeling no
shame to mourn the loss of the animals. No, the shame belonged to the man that
had put the dogs out there and left them to die. She blinked rapidly to clear
her eyes so she could continue to do what needed to be done. As she approached
the third dog, her heart began to pound as she heard a low growl off to her
right.

“Eve, stop!” Dare hissed. “Back away,
slowly.”

Evie ignored him and turned her head to see a
fawn colored boxer was struggling to get to his feet. The poor dog was covered
with mud and other filth, and she could see the wounds all over its body. He
was severely malnourished, but he growled again as he limped to stand between
them and the small dog Evie had been moving to check next.

“Oh, you poor baby. It’s okay, I’m not going
to hurt you.” Evie ignored the growls as she poured some water into one of the
bowls and pushed it closer to the dog. She poured some kibble in another bowl
and the boxer’s body quivered as he scented it. She pushed it forward, moving
closer despite Dare’s restraining hand on her shoulder.

“It’s okay. This is what I do, remember?” She
reaching up to touch Dare’s hand, but she refused to look away from the dog
even though she made sure not to make direct eye contact with it.

“This is crazy,” Dare whispered harshly.
“That dog is feral.”

“No. He’s hurt and starving. Even though he’s
in pain, he’s still trying to protect that little pit bull behind him. Take a
step back and don’t crowd them,” she commanded, then lowered her voice to a
croon as she pushed the bowl closer. Evie’s eyes stung with new tears as the
dog’s little nub of a tail wagged once, then twice...as if he were unsure
whether to be happy or not. She saw the heavy chain was attached to a thick,
leather collar around his neck and it was digging into his skin from the weight
of it.

She started moving closer and heard Dare
shift behind her, drawing the dog’s attention. “Stop,” she ordered. “Don’t move
or back away. You’re scaring him.”

“I’m scaring him? God damn it, Eve, he’s
growling at you.”

Evie kept moving slowly, letting the dog see
her. He looked away from Dare back toward her, and after a moment seemed to
decide she wasn’t a threat. He stopped growling and lowered his head to start eating
the food. As soon as he did, Evie removed the leather collar from his neck.
When she got it loose, she dropped it on the ground and was disgusted by the
sound the heavy chain made as it hit the dirt.

“Jesus...”

She heard Dare’s whispered oath, but focused
on stroking the dog’s head, trying not to touch any of the bite marks that
marred his body. She whispered soothingly and saw his tail start to wag again. The
boxer inched forward slowly, leaning into her side. That simply act of trust
broke her heart. She sat down on the ground, and the dog collapsed with a small
whine as he rested his head on her leg. “Russ?”

“Yeah, boss?”

“Move around to this side and go check the
little one,” she said softly.
 

“Got it. I found two others alive so far. One
was gone.”

Dare heard the others arrive as they went to
work freeing the two dogs Russ had already checked, but he never took his
attention off of Evie and the injured animal that had all but crawled onto her
lap. Watching her form the connection with that poor, abused dog had been like
witnessing a miracle.

 
She
glanced up as he squatted down next to her. The boxer looked up and weakly
growled at Dare. Unafraid now, Dare used the techniques he learned while
working at the rescue center and let the dog scent him before gently resting
his hand on the dog’s head.

“I heard stories. People at the center told
me where some of the dogs had come from, but you can’t know...can’t even fathom
the fucking horror of this until you see it with your own eyes.”

“It’s amazing how much love they have to give
even after coming from a place like this. It’s why we fight so hard to give
them a place to heal and try to find them a good home. They deserve to be
happy. We need to move him to one of the carrying crates, but I think his leg is
infected.”

Dare nodded, but stayed where he was for a
very more seconds, stroking the dog’s head, being cautious not to touch the
soft, floppy ears that were riddled with bite marks. He leaned forward and
carefully lifted the boxer into his arms using a blanket Evie had in her
backpack, then he paused as the dog turned his head to stare at him. Dare
didn’t know what to think, and knew if he hurt the dog it might react on
instinct and attack. Instead, the dog sniffed at him, then tentatively licked
his cheek. Dare felt his eyes sting as he slowly stood, cradling the dog like
it were a baby.

Evie rushed over and grabbed one of the
carriers the others had brought to the site, and with her help, they got the
boxer inside. The dog stared at them with dark eyes glazed with pain, then his
eyes closed and he seemed to relax.

“That’s four,” Tim said as he walked over to
join them. His own eyes were red with unshed tears as he cleared his throat.
“Should we start getting them back to the van?”

“Yes,” Evie said, reaching out and put her
arm around the other man’s shoulders. “Let’s get them home.”

Eugene and Tim picked up one of the crates as
Russ carried another. They headed back to the van as Dare looked back at the
bodies still on the ground. His hands clenched into fists at the sheer waste of
life. He wanted to get them free of the chains, to bury them far away from this
terrible place. With that in mind he turned away, then froze as a man came out
of the woods pointing a shotgun at Evie and Claudette who were positioned by
the last crate.

“Hey, you stupid cunts! What the hell do you
think you’re doing? Gimme back my dogs!”

Incensed, Evie glared at the man as she knelt
by the crate, sheilding the dog from view. “Tenne Conroy, you deserve to be in
prison for what you’ve done!”

Dare didn’t even stop to think. Before the
man could turn to point the shotgun at him, Dare was on him. He jerked the end
of the gun up just as the man fired a shot, the loud sound reverberating in the
air. Dare jerked the gun out of the man’s hand, then slammed his fist in the
fucker’s face once, twice, then a third time just for the pleasure of watching
blood spurt out of the man’s nose.

“You broke my nose!”

“That’s not all I’m going to break,” Dare
snarled as he hit Conroy again, making the other man fall onto his back. Not
giving him an inch, Dare jerked him back to his feet and grabbed hold of
Conroy’s throat in a brutal grip. Conroy wasn’t a small man by any means, but
pure rage gave Dare the strength to lift Conroy off his feet so the man was
gasping for air.

“You sorry sack of shit,” Dare snarled, and
with the flick of his wrist he sent the man flying to the ground where his body
slammed up against one of the metal poles they had rescued the dogs from.
Conroy gasped for air and flopped onto his stomach, trying to crawl away. Dare
pressed a foot down onto his back, and leaned down to wrap the chain around
Conroy’s neck.

“Stay where you are, you dumb fucking redneck.
Make one move, I dare you. Just give me a fucking reason to beat the fucking shit
out of you!” His voice lowered into a deadly snarl as he said, “I should leave
you chained up to rot out here, just like you did to these poor animals.”
Conroy gasped in alarm, his face turning a bright red as Dare pulled the chain
tighter.

“Dare!”

Dare heard Evie’s voice as if it were coming
from the end of a long tunnel. He wanted to kill Conroy. To pound him into
bloody dust. He wanted to seek retribution for all those bodies littering the
clearing, but not while Evie was there to witness it.

“Take the crate back to the van,” Dare said,
his voice deadly calm.

“Dare, please—”

“The son of a bitch fucking fired at you!”
Dare rounded on her and knew his eyes were as feral as the dog’s was when they
had first found him. “You might have been in charge of the rescue, but he’s mine.”

Evie’s chin lifted. “I was just going to say
leave something for the sheriff when you’re done here.”

Dare simply stared at her for a long minute.
Hell, he wanted to laugh, but couldn’t find the strength to push back his anger
enough to do so. “Fine. Go back to the van. I’ll wait for the sheriff.”

“I’m already here,” Sheriff Storm Wyatt said
as he walked into the clearing. Storm and Hammer had served in the same unit
while they had been in the Rangers, and Dare had always liked the other man. Like
his name, Storm was intense. A quiet man that could be deadly when pushed far
enough, he had the dark coloring that spoke to his half Native American
heritage. The sheriff let out a sigh. “Hell, Nyght. Did you kill him?”

“Not yet. He killed those dogs, Storm.”

“Did not!” Conroy squeaked out. “There were
alive when I left them!”

Storm’s obsidian eyes took in the scene at a
glance and Dare saw his jaw tighten in anger, which was never a good sign for
anyone on the receiving end. When he looked back, Dare could see the barely
veiled fury burning in those dark depths. “Evie, why don’t you and your crew
head back to the rescue center. You take care of those animals while we take
care of things here. I’ve got men coming in to help. Dare and I can...talk to
Conroy while we wait.”

Dare stared down at the man cowering at his
feet, then let out a curse as he sensed Evie walk up to his side. He turned his
head to look over at her, then blinked in surprise as she held something out to
him.

“It’s a wet wipe. You have his blood on your
hand. I wouldn’t want you to catch something nasty from him.”

This time he did laugh. “You sure are
something, princess.”

“Damn right I am.” She reached out and gently
touched his arm. “Thank you.”

Dare nodded. “I’ll see you when I get home.”

Home.

Why did that word have such a nice ring to
it?

Chapter Nine

“How is he?”

Evie turned as Dare walked into the clinic
and had to fight the urge to throw herself into his arms. It had been a long
night, and in the few hours they had been back at the clinic everyone had been
working hard to treat the four surviving dogs that had been rescued. Taking
Dare by the hand, she walked him through the clinic, knowing exactly who he was
asking about without him telling her. When they got to the back room, she
walked him over to a row of large cages where all the dogs they rescued were resting
and came to a stop in front of where the boxer was sleeping peacefully.

Dare gripped the bars of the cage so hard his
knuckles went white. “Is he...?”

“He’s going to be fine,” she said, touching
one of his hands until he relaxed his grip. “All four of the dogs were severely
malnourished and treated for ticks and fleas, and there is some concern about
infection for some of the bite wounds, but Beck says they have a good chance of
making a full recovery. Nibbles was in the worse shape because he’s so young,
and we are giving Wesley and Buttercup a strong dose of antibiotics that we
hope will work.”

“Who?”

“Wesley and Buttercup are the two dogs Russ
and the others rescued, and Nibbles is the little guy this one was protecting,”
Evie said with a smile as she nodded toward the sleeping boxer. “We wanted to
wait for you to name him.”

Dare glanced over at the cage. He’d been on
the verge of declining to name the pup, but a name immediately popped into his
head. “Hero,” he said softly. “His name should be Hero.”