At the top, though, I slowed long enough to remove my contacts. I wanted to be fully on my game before I eased open the door.
The entire family should be attending the benefit party. Still, I couldn’t risk anyone noticing as I rifled through their possessions....
The hall was devoid of life. The stairwell where Luke had stood was just as empty.
I shook off the tremor of something dark and bittersweet that coursed through my body. Tiptoed to what I guessed was the master bedroom—one door closer than where the woman had sent me when granting access.
The knob wasn’t locked. I slipped inside, head turned to watch behind me....
And this time, the interrupting voice, although still feminine, was younger. Her words twined in from the balcony along with a tendril of cigarette smoke.
“If you’re looking for Clarence, you’ll have to wait your turn. He hasn’t even paid me yet.”
Chapter 5
The girl was invisible, but her recent work wasn’t. Rumpled blankets. A pillow on the floor. A trail of blood spots leading toward another closed door behind which I noted the roar of running water.
“Nosebleed,” the girl informed me. “He gets them sometimes.”
I jumped. The girl—face young and eyes old—was closer than I’d expected. She’d brought the cigarette in with her, as if she didn’t care whether the real owner of what was clearly the house’s master suite knew she’d been inside.
“Might be a while,” she added, tugging at her top so it covered half an inch more of her bare midriff. Then, changing the subject: “Nice fur.”
Before I could take evasive action, her fingers slid into my pelt. Unlike Luke’s, her touch was neutral. Neither good nor bad. Just—there. Unfamiliar. Like a memory of a past when my entire family had romped together on summer evenings, frolicking in the forms of our wolves.
I stepped backward, away from the girl and the memory. Perhaps I’d search this room later. Still—there were two interior doors. Not just the bathroom but also what I suspected was a walk-in closet.
I eyed the teenager. She’d grown bored with me already. Had fallen backwards onto the bed and snuggled up into the comforter. The glowing tip of her cigarette was half an inch away from flammable sheets.
I felt like an old fogy as I warned her: “You’ll light the bed on fire.”
She grinned. Sucked in another lungful of smoke. Exhaled toward me. “We already did.”
No wonder her eyes were drifting shut now, her legs drawing up toward her torso. Her short skirt hiked up to display rounded buttocks, no underwear in sight.
I sighed. Snagged the cigarette out of her fingers. Dropped it into an empty glass.
Teenagers. Their interlude would have been entirely normal if not for the mention of money. The story might as well have been written in lipstick on the mirror.
On the girl’s part, the impetus was cash. On the young Smythewhite’s—rebellion.
Because Justice’s research had turned up basic information on the family whose house encompassed Bastion’s stolen pelt. They had one son—Clarence. The seventeen-year-old landed good grades, seemed smart, but had been arrested for dumb shit three times in the last year.
Shoplifting, graffiti, then reckless driving. Nobody had been hurt. Each time, his parents had bailed him out and found a lawyer who got the charges knocked down to community service. Each time Clarence had repeated the so-called mistake.
Which meant the teenage Smythewhite was still struggling to win parental attention. No wonder he’d snuck a girl into his parents’ bedroom while Mom and Dad were glad-handing donors downstairs.
Clarence wanted to get caught, and I needed to be in and out before that happened. Striding toward the interior door that didn’t lead to a shower, I yanked open yet another entrance into the unknown.
THIS ONE TURNED OUT to be a full-fledged room rather than the expected closet. Racks of clothes and shoes lined the walls. Spots to sit and change littered the space’s center.
There was a mirror. Cosmetics. A locked jewelry box.
No, not a box. More like a knee-high chest of drawers.
There were no furs though. Unless Bastion’s pelt was stuffed into the jewelry safe—unlikely—it really wasn’t there.
I was tempted to shift and use my wolf nose. But Clarence—the son—would be out of the shower shortly. Despite his penchant for rebellion, he might take offense if he found a four-legged invader in his parents’ domain.
So I left the most likely location behind me. Left the girl sleeping and the boy showering. Stepped out into the hallway...and into Luke’s arms.
“What are you doing here?”
His chest was hard, his voice a growl. Last night, he’d been playful. Tonight, he sounded like a territorial wolf.
I jerked backwards, and my pelt retaliated. I’d wrapped the fur firmly around my neck while preparing for the evening, but somehow it slithered free now to slide down into the space between me and Luke.
Our fingers grazed as we each attempted to grab the plummeting pelt. Luke made the first contact, and his grip was tighter than it had been previously. Pain radiated from my left kneecap all the way down to my toenails.
I must have gasped because Luke eased up instantly. “Honor?” His brows drew together. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. How could I explain that clenching my pelt had hurt me in the process? Especially now when the ghost sensation was turning into a caress?
Fingers slid up and down the soft skin on the inside of the pelt’s thigh...my thigh. They teased, tickled. I closed my eyes against the pleasure. Grabbed my fur out of Luke’s hands so abruptly I made myself flinch this time.
“Excuse me.” I turned blindly away from the heady source of pleasure. “I have to go.”
MY EYES REMAINED SHUT, as if glancing back at Luke would reawaken something too dangerous to mention. My fingers slid across the wall beside me, past one door, on to the next.
My theory here was simple. If the woman downstairs thought I was a bonus prostitute, then the room she’d pointed me toward must have been Clarence’s. A teenager was an unlikely possessor of a woelfin’s pelt. So I tried the third door instead.
Unlocked. Did these people have no concept of security?
Luke, of course, walked in after me. His presence raised hairs along the back of my neck.
“Go away,” I said without turning to face him. This was an office. Books, desk, computer. If a pelt was stashed here, it might be beneath the lap rug on the back of the sofa....
Luke slid in front of me as I headed toward the leather furniture. “Whatever you want from him, you can’t have it.” For a moment, I thought he meant the owner of this room. Then he clarified. “Clarence is mine.”
“Your what?” My question froze Luke long enough so I could sidestep and discover that there was no fur on the sofa. I rattled the handle of the wooden filing cabinet. Locked. But, like the wife’s jewelry case, the pelt was unlikely to be hidden within.
And...Luke hadn’t answered. This time, I hesitated rather than searching further, cocking my head and taking in the man who’d trailed me into someone else’s domain.
Out in the hall, he’d looked like he had every right to be here. Now, Luke shifted from foot to foot like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
I was intrigued. Part of me wanted to soothe his angst the way he’d soothed my ruffled fur. To ease whatever confusion had frozen him in place.
And yet...this was my ticket out of Luke’s presence. So I channeled my twin and tossed out a zinger intended to send my pursuer scurrying for cover.
“Clarence wouldn’t say you were his anything, would he?”
Then, before Luke could answer, I slid past him out the door.
THERE WERE TEN DOORS on this level. Four empty guest rooms. A den. Another office. A home gym.
I spent over an hour flitting between them, aware that Luke was up here also. Watching, waiting. I shrugged off the ha
ir-prickling sensation, knelt to peer underneath yet another bed.
There weren’t even dust bunnies down here. The cleaning crew was impressive.
“...tomorrow?”
I nearly cracked my head as voices passed by in the corridor. First a thread of a whisper from a woman, then a male voice higher pitched than Luke’s baritone. Their words were muffled by the thick wood between us. All I heard was:
“...doesn’t matter.”
Had guests snuck upstairs like Luke and I had? Or perhaps servants were turning down beds for the night?
I was running out of time and I hadn’t seen hide nor hair—pun intended—of Bastion’s pelt This house was far too large to search without further information. If I stayed much longer, I’d be caught in the act of pawing through possessions not my own.
People passed down the hall again, this time in the opposite direction. No voices. Instead, the footsteps were harried and abrupt.
I ignored them, mind rushing through possibilities. Was there a way to bring Bastion inside, to use him as a homing beacon? The task would be tough since my cousin was barely ambulatory. Plus, we didn’t know the family well enough to wrangle an invitation....
My plans were derailed by a blood-curdling scream.
Chapter 6
This time I did hit my head on the desk I’d bent down to hunt beneath, but that wasn’t the source of the sudden, overwhelming pain. Instead, my entire body spasmed as if someone had grabbed both ends of my pelt and twisted, trying to wring it dry.
For one millisecond, I let the agony consume me. Then I pushed the weakness away.
That scream meant someone was in danger. Tears obstructed my vision as I ran flat out toward the circular staircase that led down to the party below.
Because that’s where the scream had originated from. It had been full of horror or fear or pain or maybe all of the above. Something that broke through the ordinary human impulse to stick to inside voices.
The shriek cut off as abruptly as it started. Still, I kept running. She—whoever she was—needed help. I....
“Stop.”
I’d barely made it ten steps when a hand on my arm slung me around so fast I ended up chest to chest with the man who’d spent all night dogging my footsteps. For one split second, I noted the muscles rippling beneath pulled-tight fabric. Noted his scent—rich and woodsy and oh-so-subtly sweet.
Then he pushed me in the opposite direction from the one in which I’d been running. Body-blocked me as I tried to go around him. Dragged me along as easily as if I was a child’s wagon. Slammed the door behind us as we re-entered the guest room.
“Someone’s hurt...” I started.
“From what I heard, I’d say she’s dead.”
His words were so shocking I didn’t protest as I was tossed onto the bed. The mattress bounced beneath me. Luke’s shoes indented the softness as he stood, pushing the lone window up.
“What are you doing?” I rose to my knees, swiping fur from my unruly pelt out of my mouth with one finger.
“Are you on the guest list?” Luke paused long enough to pierce me with eyes that revealed nothing and at the same time knew far too much about me.
“No.” I grabbed the windowsill and clawed myself to standing. Luke wanted us to jump out the window—that much was clear. But—“It’s a long way down.”
He raised one eyebrow and sidestepped the height issue. “The police will be very interested in what you’re doing in the Smythewhite’s private quarters.”
I don’t know why I answered what wasn’t even a question. But I did. “I’m hunting for a physical item. I haven’t found it yet.”
He raised one eyebrow. “And that explanation for your presence won’t look suspicious at all.”
His sarcasm wasn’t appreciated. But Luke had a point, unfortunately.
Still, I pulled away as he started lifting me toward the opening. His hands on my waist were gentle. At the same time they burned like brands.
“No. Stop it. My twin....”
“Twin?”
“Yes.” My tongue wasn’t quite working properly. “Grace.”
“Ah.” His mouth quirked up, his eyes twinkling. “Graceful Grace. I saw her. Definite family resemblance.”
“We look nothing alike....”
A door slammed against a wall, far too close for comfort. A staccato knock from the other side of the hall.
“Who is it?” The question came in a teenaged boy’s pitch-seeking quaver.
“Security. Are you alright in there?”
“I’m busy.”
Would Clarence keep the searchers occupied? No, there were too many. Because more doors banged opened, one across from us and one beside us. We had seconds at best to escape.
Or to make another choice.
I pushed myself up to perch on the windowsill so I could reach Luke’s perfect coiffure. Then I mussed his curls for all I was worth.
“What are you...?”
He got the picture when I ripped open his tuxedo jacket. Left buttons dangling. Went for his fly.
His hand covered mine. “Okay, enough. I don’t put out on the first date. Your turn.”
He grabbed the hem of my dress. Ripped upward so fast I couldn’t push his fingers off me.
“Stop!”
“Gotta make it look believable.”
“No, I mean it....”
A twelve-inch dagger revealed itself at my hip.
I HALF EXPECTED LUKE to examine the weapon, searching for bloodstains. Instead, he flung himself on top of me as the door to the hallway opened. Caught my lips in a mind-altering kiss.
Rose petals and granite. Electricity and honey.
Stars and fireworks exploded, supernova style.
We might never have come up for air if a snort from the doorway hadn’t reminded us both what was at stake.
I peeked around Luke, saw the same woman who’d ushered me up the servant stairwell. Clipboard lady was flanked by two men in black suits. Private security? But she was the one who did the talking.
“I need to see your ID.”
“My ID?” Luke rose to his feet with the grace of a panther. He huffed out hauteur, and I thought he’d forgotten all about me until one heel slipped backwards to nudge against my ankle.
Right. The dagger. My fingers twitched.
“Or your name. So I can check the guest list.” The woman was polite but firm. Luke shrugged and pulled out a wallet, giving me a chance to draw my clothes together like a woman caught making out in her hostess’s private space.
In the process, I nudged my thigh sheath sideways until the dagger was hidden beneath the ripped fabric. If I was lucky, the officials would think the elasticized bands holding it in place were some kind of garter....
I glanced up, caught one of the male security guards’ eyes trained on my exposed flesh.
“Mr. Acosta. I didn’t realize. I’m so sorry to bother you.” The woman in charge was flustered. I peered at her clipboard, caught a crazy number of zeroes in the donation column beside Luke’s surname.
“No harm done. Don’t apologize.” Luke’s charm soothed her. He reached out to touch the woman’s hand, just the tiniest flitting contact before retreating. “You’re doing your job. Is something the matter?”
“There’s been an incident. I’m afraid the party’s over. But you and your date are free to go. We’ll have a valet bring around your car.”
“No need. I parked on the street.” A keychain twirled around Luke’s index finger. He was as smooth as Grace and would be out of here in seconds.
I, on the other hand, had a twin to find.
Chapter 7
Or, rather, we had a twin to find. Because Luke caught my elbow as I eased away from him.
“And the third member of our party?”
I’m not quite sure how it happened. But ten minutes later, Grace, Luke, and I were alone on the sidewalk, released from an investigation that had everyone else cooped up inside telling their stories ov
er and over and over.
We maintained our unity until clipboard lady reentered the double doors between the tall white columns. Then we shattered into three jaggedly uneven parts.
“My car is this way.” Luke’s voice was like warm toffee flowing across me. Unfortunately, Grace wasn’t a fan of the sticky sweet.
“Thanks for the ride offer,” she told Luke rather than following him down the block in the direction he’d indicated. “But we’ve gotta run.”
The shards of ice in her voice made me squint and try to figure out what she was telling me. Two hours ago, we’d been united. What had happened in the interim to tear us apart?
“Our cousin is waiting.” Grace raised her brows and widened her eyes as if she thought I’d forgotten. Then her gaze slid down to land on my ripped and rumpled dress.
My cheeks heated. Did my twin really think I’d been upstairs making out with Luke rather than searching for Bastion’s pelt?
For a split second, I was furious. Then guilt hit me in the form of a long-repressed memory from our shared past.
Ten years ago. A night so dark the milky way was visible. Home alone. The door knob rattling....
I shivered, blocking out the memory and focusing on the present instead.
Grace was right. Bastion needed to be soothed, and my pelt wasn’t up to the task at the moment. Which meant I needed to shift and run, just like she’d hinted. We were wasting time standing here at the curb.
Headlights caught my eye. A taxi—a speedy exit.
I leapt toward the vehicle, arms waving. It screeched to a halt, and I hesitated. This might be the last time I saw Luke....
Grace jerked the door open. Pushed me inside without time for farewells.
“Don’t let down the pack,” she hissed. Again hung in the air between us, no need for it to be spoken aloud.
Moon Stalked Page 3
