Pack, my wolf murmured before I could shush her. Help them.
We weren’t pack. We were simply team mates.
Still, when I glanced back as I followed Jasmine out the door, my belly warmed at the sight of Ryder pocketing my offering. Worst-case scenario, at least one team mate would have a way out of his cell tonight.
Chapter 31
The rest of the day passed in a blur of shackling politeness. Although I hadn’t been able to speak to any of my team mates, my illicit cell phone vibrated repeatedly in my pocket. And when I begged for a bathroom break, I discovered I’d been added to a walkie-talkie-enabled group chat.
Lupe: Report in.
Ryder: Barracks room fifteen is a dump. I’ll manage.
Tank: I’m your neighbor in fourteen.
Butch: My room has no number. Turn left from the dining room, take the first right, then walk to the end of the hall.
Tank: Athena?
A pause, then:
Lupe: My lock has been repositioned so I can’t be penned in. Yours?
Butch: No lock.
Ryder: Got a lock...and lock picks. Thanks, A-bear!
Tank: No picks here. My roommates say they’re locked in every night.
After another pause, he’d added:
Tank: Are you there, Athena?
Ryder: Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to your ugly mug. Maybe she wants some of my sugar instead. After all, A-bear gave me a present.
Tank: Ryder.
Lupe: Enough. Athena, are you able to receive messages?
That text had come through only ten minutes ago. I touched the screen to pull up the keyboard...then Jasmine tapped on the bathroom door.
“Everything okay in there?”
I wasn’t locked up...yet. But I certainly wasn’t free to travel wherever I wanted. Rowan was taking no chances.
“Fine.” I flushed, using the second of stolen leeway to tap out the tiniest reply imaginable.
Athena: Here.
Then I left the privacy of the bathroom and followed Jasmine down yet another hall.
I’D THOUGHT SHE PLANNED to return me to my no-longer-prison. But we didn’t travel downstairs. Instead, we journeyed up.
Up from quality to luxury. At the top of the stairs, a door opened into a space that could have been called a room...if you were used to the scale of mansions.
Dark windows promised that night had fallen while I was stuck inside. Rowan lounged on a black leather sofa, smoking robe half open and shot glass cradled in one hand.
“You can go, Jasmine.” The alpha waved dismissal and air movement promised his sister had obeyed him. I didn’t take my eyes off his face, however. My wolf was completely and instantly alert.
Leave, she demanded. Predator, she added.
As if I wasn’t aware of Rowan’s eyes glowing hungrily in the near darkness. Still, I shook my head and took a single step inside.
Because I wasn’t yet ready to burn the bridge Rowan represented. Despite the vibrating cell phone in my pocket, I couldn’t afford to. Not when Harper’s school was within McCallister territory. Not when the Samhain Shifters would disband by the middle of the week.
Instead, I evaded. “Maybe this can wait until tomorrow? I’m tired.”
“My bedroom is around the corner.” Rowan was standing now, his scent of hungry wolf enfolding me. He advanced and I took a step backward, my spine coming to rest against the closed door.
“You’re frightened.”
“I’m not.”
His finger rose, nearly but not quite touching my unprotected throat. “Your pulse beats like a bird battering itself against a window pane.”
I shivered and he smiled. The door knob turned easily in my hand.
His teeth glinted as his lips widened. “No, you’re not locked in. Not now. Although I have locked wolves away for much longer than your short training session. Weeks. Months. One I forgot about. No one fed him. He died and we gnawed on his bones.”
Rowan’s wolf was so close to the surface, I could see its shadow beneath his cheekbones. This wasn’t normal behavior. Not even for a power-hungry alpha.
“What do you want?” I demanded.
“A signature on a contract. Two years will be plenty. I tire of playthings quickly. Then, when your sister graduates, you’re free to go.”
A contract? From the little I knew about the fae, that sounded far more like their MO than like a werewolf’s.
Surreptitiously, I hunted in my pocket for the stolen salt shaker. It had spilled out a teaspoon of granules and I pinched some up between thumb and forefinger....
Flinging the salt at Rowan’s throat, I waited for him to sizzle or at least retreat away from me. Instead, he advanced another step until our fronts touched.
His voice quaked with humor. “You’re fighting me off with pocket lint?”
I shook my head. Rowan wasn’t fae. He was just a wolf toying with my future as if I was a junebug on a string.
The phone hung heavy in my pocket. I could follow Rowan to his bedroom, take pictures for Marina, hope they were enough to get me out of this mess....
Or I could deny Rowan and hope a solution arose in the next two days. Well, make that one day and a half.
“I”—I swallowed—“I have to think about it.”
For half a second, I thought Rowan would stop me. He reached forward and my gut clenched around a wolf who wanted to shift and bite our way to freedom....
“By all means,” Rowan said. Instead of stopping me, his hand tapped the door above my head and pushed it open. “Until tomorrow. I await your pleasure.”
I FLED DOWN THE STAIRS, unable to slow my descent even though Rowan didn’t appear to be following. The ground floor was silent. The route to the basement, I knew from the day’s endless tour, was right around the bend.
Meanwhile, the front door beckoned. I could leave, collect my sister, take her somewhere far away from Rowan and Marina. Nick wouldn’t try very hard to find us, not when he had the rest of the Samhain Shifters to deal with. And while Harper would hate being on the lam, dodging strange alphas, she trusted me. She’d go and she’d behave.
She’d behave. I hated that. Didn’t want to squash the small hint of independence and playfulness Harper had recently grown into.
So I pulled out my phone and checked the group chat. They’d discussed the job more since I’d sent my one-word answer—it appeared the node really had moved into Rowan’s territory. Ryder mentioned strange behavior from his guides that sounded an awful lot like the cat-chasers outside my apartment. Tank had left me an opening to insert my experience with Marina but hadn’t shared what wasn’t his to share.
Then:
Ryder: Could there be fae present now?
Lupe: Unlikely. I was in South America last Samhain, but Rogers reported an easy night in this zone. More likely a Sleeper has been working on this pack all year. Did you notice the basement is just under twelve months old?
Tank: I did.
A pause, then:
Butch: Turning in.
Ryder: Ditto.
Lupe: Good night, everyone.
Tank: Athena?
Ten minutes later:
Tank: Athena?
That message had been sent nine minutes ago. And, even as I started to type, the phone vibrated again.
Tank: Athena?
As I read, my feet carried me down the hall away from both obvious options. Not toward the basement or the front door, but past the banquet hall then curving left.
Because something had been niggling at me ever since Butch didn’t show up at dinner. His astonishing facility with swords and his knowledge of the fae’s aversion to metal. His refusal to share his deepest secret. The gloves he wore the entire time he was ferrying me around then took off when we got to camp.
At camp, the doors were simple wooden latches. We’d eaten finger food with no need for utensils. The only metal was the grilling supplies Tank had handled.
Lupe was so certain the
re couldn’t be fae here, but the available data added up to one obvious conclusion. Butch isn’t a werewolf, I typed. He’s one of the fae. Or at least a Sleeper. I’m in his room. If you get this, I need help.
I left the message on the screen but didn’t tap the arrow to send it. Instead, I eased open the door of Butch’s bedroom, unsurprised to find that he’d merited an abode with windows, curtains, a desk, a bed.
The shape beneath the covers appeared to be sleeping, but I held my breath anyway. Eased inside, using a hint of my wolf’s ability in order to make my footfalls as silent as if we were in the forest hunting game.
Butch was facing the wall, everything but his head covered by a quilt embroidered with vines, birds, and flowers. Quite a contrast to the faded, grubby coverlet I’d been granted. Of course, a fae would have been able to manipulate Rowan’s pack into giving him the best.
In one hand, my thumb hovered above the send arrow on my cell phone. My other hand gripped the salt shaker, ready for a repeat of the same test Rowan had just passed.
But I didn’t have time to throw any salt around. Because Butch rolled over, the scent of sun-sweetened peaches rising in waves off him.
Or, rather, off her. Because this wasn’t Butch. This was Marina.
“Little wolf. I wondered how long it would take you to guess.”
Chapter 32
My thumb fell onto the touchscreen. I didn’t toss the salt, however. Instead, I inched backwards, buying time for Tank to come to my assistance. “You aren’t Butch.” I shook my head, trying to make sense of inconsistencies. “That’s not possible. I saw both of you at the same time.”
“At Harper’s school?” Marina swung her legs out from under the covers. Despite having ostensibly been sleeping, her pajamas were uncreased and perfect. Silk and unisex, they would have looked as good on Butch as they did on her.
“Yes,” I agreed.
The odor of peaches intensified. “Appearances can be deceiving.”
As she spoke, the phone vibrated in my hand. I didn’t glance down, but Marina’s gaze flew to it anyway. Her eyes narrowed. “I told them to remove all of your electronics. Give me that.”
If she wanted my phone, I wasn’t handing it over. So much for a pleasant conversation. I straightened my shoulders, readying the salt shaker. “No.”
And now I heard a soft but solid thud below me. Had Ryder found time to pick his lock and open Tank’s door already? Were team mates other than Tank even awake to assist us? Or was Marina drawing Rowan’s wolves toward us using the McCallister pack bond?
“Why did you want me in Rowan’s bedroom?” I asked, trying to buy another minute. I had to trust that the sound in the basement pointed to pending assistance. Or, if it didn’t, that Tank would find a way to overtake whoever was coming our way. “I’m guessing there’s nothing here to steal.”
Marina licked her lips, the gesture unconscious. As if she could taste the power of McCallister pack bonds. “Of course there’s something here to steal. So much of it.”
As she spoke, her hand lashed out like a snake, latching onto my shoulder. I had no idea how she’d gotten so close. One minute ago, she’d been on the other side of the room. The next, she had me in a superhuman grip.
Pain and surprise opened my fingers. The salt shaker struck the floor with a dull clatter. My cell phone landed six inches away.
I’d thought I was the one stalling, but Marina had been hunting this entire time. And she’d won.
Now I had no weapons beyond my wolf. My wolf and my hope that team mates could arrive before it was too late to save me.
I drew my inner beast upwards...
...then stopped as Tank’s voice emerged from the open door.
“BUTCH. DROP HER.”
If I’d thought my wolf was close to the surface, Tank’s was ten times closer. His voice rasped out halfway to a lupine growl. Despite being in the clutches of the fae, my shoulders relaxed away from my ears.
“Athena appears addled,” Marina/Butch answered. It was disconcerting, hearing a masculine voice emerge from this person I knew was a woman. Even more disconcerting not to smell a lie in the words.
But I was addled. Addled by the fae’s grip. By the fact that when I tried to speak, Marina’s hand clenched down so hard my teeth bit into my tongue.
“Like the time I borrowed your car?” Tank’s voice was wry and I could almost hear his head shake dismissively. Was that how he remembered the night of our first kiss? Me being addled? I winced.
Marina took in my reaction and her teeth bared in a smile. “Yes. Exactly like that.”
The scents in the room sharpened one second before Tank bit out: “Wrong answer.” So I was ready. Ready to slam my free elbow into Marina’s midsection, to use my full weight to drag myself out of her grip....
Lupe’s voice whipped across the room, proving Tank hadn’t arrived solo. “Rune Pelletier, freeze!”
The command would have worked on most werewolves. But, of course, Marina wasn’t a werewolf. In fact, she laughed as if we were playing straight into her hands.
She laughed...and dropped her disguise. Or so I assumed from Ryder’s ten-syllable string of expletives. Tank kept his response simple: “You’re not Butch.”
Marina’s voice was now female. “You mean I’m not Rune Pelletier. Thank you for the true name. I’ll use it wisely.”
So names were powerful for the fae? Names...like my sister’s, which Marina had known from the first time I spoke to her.
Harper’s safety pulled at me like a magnet, but the immediate issue was Marina. I crouched at her feet, forgotten for the moment. Dismissed as a pawn no longer useful on a crowded chessboard.
My glance skimmed around the room, hunting a better weapon. Finding none, I snatched up the salt shaker and unscrewed the top.
That was plan B, though. Instead of tossing granules at Marina, I followed Lupe’s lead and dredged up a full name.
After all, Harper had called her history teacher Ms. Rothschild. It was at least worth a shot.
“Marina Rothschild, tell us where Butch is,” I demanded.
A peach-scented foot came down on my fingers as she laughed.
“YOU THINK I’D HAND over my true name? Amateur hour.” Marina’s words were light, but her heel ground into my bones. “That was an impersonation, little wolf. If you’d paid any attention to your sister, you would have realized I wasn’t her teacher. Too bad you don’t listen to her prattle.”
Harper didn’t prattle. But, yeah, sometimes she exploded into words that flowed over and around me. The fact I’d failed as a guardian stung as much as Marina’s foot crushing my hand.
I tried to cling to what was important, but I couldn’t. Couldn’t hold tight to faith that I was a proper guardian to my sister. Couldn’t hold onto the salt shaker either. Instead, it spun away from both of us, my final weapon lost.
My final weapon...but I had three allies behind me. I heard the faintest shuffling of werewolf footfalls, then silence as the sharp tip of a blade landed in front of my nose. “I wouldn’t,” Marina murmured. Not to me. To my allies.
And they didn’t. There was nothing but silence from the others as Marina toyed with her prey—me.
“For a wolf, you’re surprisingly blind,” she mused, tilting my chin up with her sword. I’d hoped the weapon was an illusion, but she must have had a real sword hidden away in her pajamas. Because even though she used the flat of the blade, the metal was cold and unyielding against my skin.
“Didn’t you wonder how Rowan assembled a harem?” she continued. “Didn’t you wonder how his pack became so skewed?”
“I thought that’s just how alphas were,” I admitted, fingers fumbling for the shaker while I strove to keep my chin steady. The salt was almost within reach. Almost....
I grasped at the glass container and it scooted an inch in the wrong direction. Away from me, away from Marina too.
“They were a little off from the start,” Marina agreed, seeming not to n
otice the salt shaker as I fumbled for it a second time. Her sword relaxed away from me as she spoke. “That gave me a toehold. It was simple, really. Find the cracks and push into them. Once the harem formed, it became simpler yet.”
The sword should have been my sole concern, but Lupe had provided words of wisdom during our short swordsmanship lesson. “Focus on your offense. If you play defensively, you’re sunk.”
So I eyed the salt shaker rather than the sharp blade now an inch away from me. The lid was off the former. Maybe....
I strained my shoulder reaching for it. But my fingers made contact. I couldn’t grab hold, not at this distance. But I could push it. And as the glass cylinder swirled toward a darkened corner, the contents spewed out.
“An outcast sub-pack,” Marina continued. “Their bonds taste so very good....”
Her smugness faded into a hiss. A few grains had touched her foot, an accident so minor I barely saw the salt strike.
Marina’s reaction wasn’t minor. She jumped backward as if the salt was a live wire. Her face contorted, for the first time looking something other than beautiful. Her sword was no longer at my throat.
And I scooped up salt with aching fingers. Reared back to fling the mound of granules at Marina...only to be slapped into stillness by Rowan’s voice.
“Stop.”
My arm wouldn’t move but my head could. Could turn to face the doorway, where my three team mates were now outnumbered by dozens of McCallister wolves.
I say wolves because their eyes glowed hungry. But they were human, most of them. Human and ready to take my team mates down.
Human and ready to defend Marina. After all, she’d tapped into their pack bonds as she’d so smugly revealed.
I had allies also. But we were outmanned and inside enemy territory.
Still, Lupe, it turned out, was the more dominant alpha of the two. Her rebuttal vibrated through my bones as she countered Rowan. “Athena, what you do next is your own decision.”
Moon Glamour Page 16
