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Taming Jack

As she skidded between the two boarded-up buildings, the first thing Lark saw was a police motorcycle dumped on its side, its engine still rumbling. Two men fought savagely in the illumination of its rotating bubble light, exchanging merciless blows.

Despite the circumstances, Lark's heart leaped. Finally, after more than a week of fruitless
searching, she had found Jack Ramsey.

Then she got a closer look at him. "God, Jack," she muttered, "what the hell have you done
to yourself?"

At least the being that had possessed him hadn't changed that powerful body. He was still the
biggest damn motorcycle cop Lark had ever seen, looking like one of her kinkier fantasies in
those polished knee-high bike boots. Bunching biceps strained at the short sleeves of his uniform shirt as he pounded blow after blow into his opponent. Muscle worked up and down his broad back under the thin blue shirt, and his thighs bunched as he threw his weight into every punch.

But the face under his helmet was thinner than it had been six months ago, and there were deep hollows beneath his high, chiseled cheekbones. The wide mouth under his thick sable mustache was bracketed by lines of bitterness and suffering that hadn't been there before his sister's murder. Looking at him, Lark could almost feel the pain that ate at him.

But it was the cold, feral determination burning in his deep-set black eyes that sent a chill through her. This wasn't the warm, laughing lover she'd hoped to marry. This man was a driven avenger, as willing to destroy himself as those he hunted.

The current target of all that holy rage was just as big and brawny as Ramsey himself, despite the beer gut sagging over the man's huge silver belt buckle.

At first glance, he looked like every redneck thug Lark had ever seen. Tangled, greasy hair tumbled around his bull shoulders, and his snarl revealed missing teeth.

But when Lark met his gaze for an instant in the cycle's strobing light, she realized he was something much, much worse than the crude bruiser he appeared. There was more than malice and
cruelty in those bloodshot eyes. There was evil. An evil so profound and alien that it was no longer quite human.

Like Lark and Ramsey himself, the thug had been possessed. But unlike them, there was nothing
remotely good in whatever it was that had moved into his mind.