Shadow's Moon

by Jami Gray

  She forced her body to roll out of range of his possible retaliation then struggled to her feet. The majority of her weight rested on her left leg as her right took its sweet time to relearn how to hold her weight. It didn’t matter. Her attacker swayed on his knees. His left arm was braced against the ground while his right hung uselessly at his side dripping blood.

  She limped over until she stood directly in front of him. It wasn’t a smart move, but there was a chance he was about to keel over as his heart tried to pump blood through his smashed artery. But she couldn’t be certain. Most shifters who encountered such damage could heal it. They’d just endure some woozy moments. Problem was, if he was anything like the wolves she’d been dealing with lately, he may not make it. Before he checked out, she needed some damn answers.

  He lifted his head, his eyes trying to focus on her.

  She sighed and considered crouching down but her right leg was still bitching. She told it to shut the hell up and awkwardly knelt down. “Where’s Zeke, asswipe?”

  Dull incomprehension stared back at her.

  She grabbed his square chin and held him steady. “Where. Is. Zeke?”

  He mumbled something, but she couldn’t make it out then his eyes slid close.

  She shook his jaw. “Wake up, Sleeping Ugly, and focus here.” She pulled the dominant card and shoved the command at him.

  His eyes flickered open and she didn’t need her wolf’s sudden wariness to know something had just gone horribly wrong. The dull gaze was replaced by a gut-chilling Feral glow and his lips pulled back, revealing too sharp teeth.

  She barely jerked back in time to avoid having a chunk of her face torn off as he lunged forward. When he went to put his weight on his hands, his mangled arm collapsed beneath him, slowing him down.

  She scrambled back, trying to get to her feet. Her wolf didn’t give her a chance to choose but ripped through her, shifting her form. Her change was so fast, she was still reeling from the shock, even as her wolf surged forward and took control.

  She flung the remnants of her clothes clear. There was no waiting for her attacker to regain his feet. Instead, she laid her ears flat and used the muscles in her four legs to clear the space between them. He might have worn human skin, but only the animal remained. He scrambled to his hands and feet, moving on all fours with a disturbing grace.

  They circled each other, the werewolf and the man-wolf.

  He lunged.

  She dodged.

  His weight slammed into her haunches instead of her side like he had intended. When he stumbled, off balance from the misjudged hit, she surged forward and sank her teeth deep into his unprotected throat. His blood filled her mouth and savage satisfaction rose. He was prey. He was dead.

  A deep growl rumbled in her chest as breath rattled in his. He began to panic. His wild hits rained along her spine and shoulders, but she clamped her teeth tighter and yanked her head to the side. Warm blood splattered across her muzzle. Her prey stopped fighting and slowly collapsed in front of her. She dropped the metallic-tasting meat and took a cautious step back. Then another, never taking her gaze from the crumpled form in front of her.

  She backed away and when the night’s sounds returned to normal, relaxed her ears before dropping into a sitting position. With the immediate threat removed, she felt a familiar presence tugging along that bright connection. Mate. Worry. Inquiry.

  She wagged her tail and shared her satisfaction of a job well done, a challenge accepted and won. Then her human was there, soothing the ruffled fur of her mate and gently blocking their shared connection. She let her eyes drift closed as Xander’s quiet thankfulness and acceptance ran over her like gentle fingers stroking through her fur. She huffed out a sigh. They were safe, so she relinquished control to Xander.

  The change was much, much slower and a hell of lot more painful this time. When she was done, she lay on the ground naked and panting. She could still feel Warrick’s concern and did her best to keep him calm. She forced her worries about Zeke to the back of her mind, where Warrick wouldn’t see it. There was nothing he could do and she just needed a few minutes to get a grip on what the hell was going on.

  Warrick would’ve never known what had happened if her wolf hadn’t decided to reach down that thrice-damned bond and pull on his power. Since shifting on the fly wasn’t one of her usual talents, she had no doubt that little feat was all him. Hell, she didn’t even know she could do that. A small smile escaped. It could come in handy though.

  Then her muscles contorted, protesting her recent changes and her smile turned into a grimace. Unfortunately, the aftermath left something to be desired.

  She rolled to her back, feeling the cold from the ground seep along her spine. She breathed through her protesting muscle cramps and assorted aches and pains, keeping her gaze on the moon playing peekaboo with the windswept trees. When the cramps slowed to a dull throb, she turned to her side and carefully pushed her body into a sitting position. The world around her took a quick, stomach-curdling dip before leveling off.

  In front of her, face down in a pool of blood, lay her attacker. The wind reached out with chilly fingers and her skin erupted in goose bumps. Not wanting to chance a face plant, she slowly crawled forward. Somewhere around her had to be what was left of her clothes, right? Thinking back to the fight, she knew they had to be close. Carefully turning her head, she scanned the surrounding trees until she spotted the pitiful remains of fabric.

  Damn it. Please, gods, let her phone be all right. Adjusting her direction as the wind picked up, bringing with it the smell of impending rain, she stopped, brought up short by a scent. She raised her head, drawing the air in through her nose. It made her ribs ache, but she ignored the discomfort. Maybe she had been hit harder than she thought because this scent couldn’t be here. It didn’t make sense.

  She stretched her neck as she followed the faint traces. It was so light. She closed her eyes as she held onto the elusive trail. Where was it coming from? It took her a minute but she caught it and tracked it down.

  She opened her eyes to find her nose scant inches from her attacker’s body. His jacket covered shoulder to be exact. She leaned in, until her face skimmed the material. There, under the musky not-quite-right smell, lay the unique blend of citrus and cloves.

  Shocked, she sat up, her mind whirling. What the hell was going on? This scent shouldn’t be here. Scents were like fingerprints, each one belonging to a specific person. This one belonged to one wolf—Sebastian Riner, Motoki Pack’s Third.

  Chapter Nineteen

  By the time Xander found her phone, buried under a mixture of material scraps, wet leaves, and bits of wood and dirt, the damp chill had sunk bone deep. She hunched her back and cradled the electronic device protectively while soft rain slid down her back. As the phone flickered to life, her finger hesitated over the screen.

  Calling Warrick was out. What could she tell him? She had no idea where Zeke was and as for Sebastian? Other than the faint traces of scent, there was no direct evidence he had anything to do with Zeke’s disappearance. Not to mention the whole motive question. Despite her personal feelings, her mind struggled with tying Sebastian to this mess.

  She stared down at the screen, shivers wracking her hands. Warrick had enough on his plate. Whatever happened in his office earlier left him badly shaken. Which was why when they were out running earlier, she deliberately stifled her questions, wanting to give him a much needed break from whatever it was that left his fur ruffled.

  She could call Ryuu. She shook her head. Nope, no calling Ryuu. Not only was Sebastian one of his closest friends, but the same reasons applied. No concrete evidence and no logical explanation.

  Which left her with…who?

  The muscle in her hip cramped, and she shifted her weight, which brought the battered body back into the line of her sight. She narrowed her eyes as she considered someone who might be able to see more than she could.

  It took her three times to get her nu
mb fingers to hit the right buttons.

  “McCord.”

  “Raine, it’s Xander. I need your help.”

  “Where are you?” Concern lent Raine’s voice a sharp edge.

  “Just pass the Terwilliger Curves. Um—” Xander clenched her teeth to block another violent shiver before continuing. “—I’m about a mile and half down on Dowlings Road.”

  She heard Raine mutter the directions to someone else. “How bad are you hurt?” There was a dull thud of a car door closing, then an engine revving.

  “Not hurt,” Xander got out through chattering teeth. “Just freezing my ass off. Do you think you could bring me some clothes?”

  There was a pause. “Wow, I’m impressed. I never thought Vidis would be one to indulge in roadside sex.”

  Despite the grim circumstances, Raine’s wry comment made Xander smile. “Jealous?”

  “Nah, I prefer the kitchen floor. It’s warmer.”

  Xander choked on a laugh then groaned as her ribs protested. “Warrick’s in a meeting, I think.”

  “You are hurt.” Raine hadn’t missed the pain-filled sound. Her voice was wiped clean of any teasing. “We’re about ten minutes out. Do I need to call Vidis?”

  “I’m fine,” Xander reassured her. “A little bruised and battered, but fine. And don’t call Warrick. I need you to check something out first.”

  Another pause. “Does this have to do with our earlier conversation?”

  Xander studied the scene before her. Did it? “Maybe,” she answered slowly. “I’m not sure.”

  “Okay, hang tight. We’ll be there in a few.” The line went dead.

  “Yeah, not going anywhere,” Xander whispered. She huddled under the relative shelter of the huge trunk and waited.

  Warrick stood in his office, his back to the room, listening to the voices arguing behind him on the speakerphone. Half of his mind tracked the conversation of his alphas as they discussed the pros and cons of allowing the mavericks to establish their own pack. He sighed. Things were going exactly as he had suspected. No one wanted to give up territory, nor was anyone very happy about adding another pack to the Northwest. If he pushed this, he was in for a hell of a fight.

  Problem was, he wasn’t sure he wanted the fight. Dmitri may be his only surviving family, but a part of Warrick wished his brother had stayed dead and gone. Dmitri’s presence was a complication Warrick didn’t want, or need, right now. Not to mention the dark tendrils of unsupported suspicion starting to twist around the emotional storm his brother had left behind.

  He wished he could blame his uneasiness on their shared history, and maybe that was some of it. But it was hard not to listen as that coldly logical voice pointed out how Dmitri’s appearance, just as Warrick faced an unknown threat, was too coincidental. He couldn’t decide if the voice was a result of his own personal feelings or a warning. He continued to stare blindly out the night-shrouded window.

  “Vidis,” a deep voice called his attention back to the conversation continuing behind him. “How well do you know this Dan Vicks?”

  Warrick turned his head and glared at the phone. “Considering I just met him today, that seems an asinine question, Mike.”

  Strained patience and a sigh echoed down the line as the other voices fell quiet, listening. “Is it? A maverick you don’t know, who wants land and power in your territory, approached you. I’d be an irresponsible wolf if I didn’t point out to my alpha that something doesn’t smell right here.”

  “Besides,” chimed in another voice, “these are mavericks, Vidis. These wolves couldn’t cut it in a normal pack. They’re unable to submit to an established alpha. What makes them think they’ll be able to bare their throats to you now?”

  “The fact that they’ve made an effort to submit a legitimate request,” Warrick said, “indicates their willingness to try. We can do no less than give their request fair consideration.” Disgruntled rumbles erupted over the phone. “Gentlemen.” Warrick kept his tone level, even as the urge to snarl rose. “I’m not asking for a decision tonight. I’m asking that you consider the request then send me your valid concerns as soon as you can.”

  There was no ignoring the whip of command in his tone. One by one, the men on the phone murmured their reluctant agreement and rang off.

  Mike Bradley, alpha of the Kenai Pack, stayed on the line. He waited until everyone else had hung up before saying, “Vidis, I don’t like this.”

  Warrick stepped back from the window and made his way to his desk. “Which part, Mike?” He dropped into his chair and stared at the phone. “Being asked to give up land or the fact that we’re considering giving a bunch of renegade wolves their entree into pack politics?”

  “Both,” Mike answered. “I know if you decide to do this, the land will come from me or Philippe.”

  “It’s not like Alaska or Alberta are lacking land,” Warrick observed dryly.

  Mike’s answer was an inelegant snort. “That’s not my biggest worry. My gut syas there’s something more to this than protection from human detection.”

  “Mine, too,” Warrick admitted. “Until I can find out what that is, we’ll follow through on the petition process.”

  “Politics as a stalling measure,” Mike said. “Nice.”

  Warrick’s smile felt grim. “Their choice to come play with the big dogs. Now let’s see if they can hold their own.”

  “Well then, as long as you know what you’re doing,” Mike said. “I’ll send you my two cents in the next few days then.” He rang off.

  Warrick sat at his desk, rubbing his temples in a futile attempt to erase the ache behind his eyes. He hoped Mike’s faith in him wasn’t displaced. His path wasn’t as clear as he’d like. In fact—

  Xander.

  His thoughts were abruptly cut off as a whip of lightning streaked across his soul. Xander was in trouble. He didn’t hesitate, but opened himself to their bond. There was as sharp snap as she pulled on his abilities. He breathed through it, his fists clenching on the desk, giving what he could. His wolf surged to the surface and raced down their connection, only to find a breathless silence.

  He concentrated on dragging air into his lungs and shoving it back out. His wolf paced back and forth, like a dog on a leash. Together, man and wolf waited. Warrick refused to let his dread gain the upper hand. Xander was a warrior and she would let him know if this was something she couldn’t handle. Wouldn’t she? He shoved the question back, focusing on his wolf.

  He had no idea how long it was before savage satisfaction of a battle won, joy of being with their mate, and a tendril of gratitude for respecting their independence broke through, calming man and wolf. This time, Warrick reached out to Xander, needing to know what was happening. He was met by her gentle rebuff. He could sense she was okay, but handling something. He retreated.

  He wanted answers and if he couldn’t get them from her, he’d go around her. He picked up the phone and dialed. On the other end, the phone rang once then went to voice mail. “You’ve reached Ryuu Kern. Please leave a message.”

  “Call me,” Warrick growled then slammed the phone down. What the hell was going on?

  Xander jerked awake at the sound of gravel under tires. A swath of light cut across the trees and left her blinking. She got to her feet like an old woman, muscles protesting every movement, and used the tree trunk behind her for balance. The slam of car doors was followed by the sound of her name being called.

  “Here,” she answered, her voice rough.

  Moments later, Raine stepped out of the night, her silver gaze taking a quick inventory of Xander and the sprawled form between them. She half turned and called back, “Gavin, stay put for a second.” Then she continued forward and stepped around the body. She held out a bundle of clothes to Xander. “Here. Put these on before that blue becomes a permanent addition to your skin tone.”

  Xander grinned and grabbed the clothes.

  Raine winced. “And don’t do that.”

  “Do what?�
� Xander dragged on the oversized sweatshirt that must belong to Gavin since it fit her like a dress and carried his scent.

  “Smile like that.”

  Puzzled, she lifted her head as she finished pulling up the stretchy workout pants, her body shuddering with pleasure as the material provided much needed warmth. “Huh?”

  With one finger, Raine made a circular motion near her mouth in response.

  Xander reached up and felt her face. Dried blood crusted her skin.

  “It looks like some kind of gruesome facial,” Raine muttered.

  Xander dropped her head to hide her smile. Funny how such a small thing unsettled the unshakable Raine. Xander fiddled with the tie on the pants until she was sure her humor was under control. “Thanks for the clothes.”

  Raine knelt by the dead body, her arms resting on her knees. “No problem.” She studied the corpse. “What happened?”

  Gavin stepped clear of the trees. “I turned off the lights on your bike.”

  “Thanks.” Xander dropped her phone into her pocket and gathered the shredded remains of her clothes. She had turned the phone off after Warrick’s second attempt to reach her. She had no idea what to say to him. She tried sending reassurance down their bond, but if the answering wave of male frustration was any indication, it wasn’t enough.

  She picked her way over to Raine. “The truck belongs to Zeke.”

  “Zeke’s the one who was looking into things about the chat room, right?” Raine asked.

  “Yep. He was supposed to meet me at Montage, but never showed. Ryuu called, looking for him and we got worried.”

  “So you decided to see if you could track him?” Gavin held out a hand for the bundle she held.

  She handed him the pathetic ball of cloth and watched as he stuffed it into a plastic bag. The man must have been a Boy Scout to be that prepared, unless…She shot a speculative look at Raine’s bent head, wondering again about the strength of the connection she shared with Gavin. “Someone ran his truck off the road. And I found this one,” she motioned to the body, “hanging around.”