Beneath a Darkening Moon

by Keri Arthur

  He glanced at the second woman, and touched her arm. Her flesh was almost blue, her eyes vacant and jaw slack. “Ma'am?” he said softly.

  No response. “Ma'am,” he said, a little louder this time. “We need to ask some questions."

  Vannah came back with another waterproof blanket and wrapped it around the woman's shoulders. There was no reaction.

  Savannah glanced at him. “You want me to prod her telepathically?"

  He hesitated. Technically, he should be the one doing it since such intrusions were in his purview, while they could get her into serious trouble. But they couldn't let this drag on. They had to know what to expect and get up there before Candy finished gorging herself and moved on. And Vannah was obviously a far stronger psychic than he. He nodded.

  Savannah placed her fingers on either side of the woman's cheeks and narrowed her eyes. A whisper of energy teased his mind, and then her thoughts were in his head, a distant echo of the force she used on the woman.

  Ma'am, we need to know many people were in your group.

  He shouldn't be able to hear her. The fact that he could meant this thing between them went far deeper than he'd presumed.

  God, it was so damn frustrating that he just couldn't grab her and talk to her. Really talk to her—get out in the open all she was feeling, all he was feeling. Get the past and future sorted out.

  But there was Candy, and the humans, and somewhere in Ripple Creek a madwoman intent on making them pay for their so-called crimes of the past.

  He had to think about that—ensure they both survived that—before he did anything else.

  The woman came to life, jumping like a terrified rabbit as she stuttered, “Five ... six including Marion, the guide. Please.” She grabbed Savannah's jacket with her free hand, her knuckles so white they gleamed in the gloom. “Please help them. My sister—"

  "We'll go find them,” Savannah said, her voice rock steady, soothing, even though she gave him a hopeless sort of look that made him want to wrap his arms around her and protect her from the madness up ahead. She peeled the woman's grip from her coat and added, “But you need to get into the truck with your friend and lock the door. Do you understand?"

  The woman nodded, but she didn't move. Savannah gently guided her toward the truck and helped her inside.

  "Humans,” Ronan said, anger in his voice as he handed Cade a tranquilizer gun. “Not wolves. It's going to be a blood bath up there."

  "Yes.” No wolf, or group of wolves, for that matter, could have hoped to protect a group of humans against a wolf in bloodlust. And dart guns were going to be next to useless if Candy was still in that frenzy. Still, they had no other option but to go on. The rangers didn't carry proper weapons, and his team hadn't arrived with silver bullets. He raised the small dart gun and checked to make sure it was ready to fire. Two darts. Not nearly enough if this went down badly. He glanced at Vannah as she returned. “Ready?"

  Her face was pale, her green eyes determined. “No. But let's go anyway."

  He smiled. His woman had a lot of courage; there was no doubt about that. “Spread out. That way she can only go for one of us at a time."

  She nodded and headed to the left edge of the trail. He headed down the middle, because it was the most dangerous and he was the only one with any real experience against a wolf in a frenzy. Ronan took the right-hand side.

  They splashed through the wind and the rain, quickly reaching a sweeping bend that arced around to the right. At the end of it, in the middle of the road, amongst the mud and the puddles, lay the bloody, broken bodies of the hiking group. Not whole bodies. Just parts.

  And standing beside them, still consuming the warm flesh, was a cream colored wolf. She didn't even seem to notice them, though she surely would have smelled them, if not heard them. Maybe the need to consume flesh was greater than the need to flee. He'd seen it happen many a time.

  He quickly raised the weapon and fired his two darts. Heard the soft retorts to his left and right as Vannah and Ronan fired their weapons simultaneously. The metal tipped darts hit the large wolf in a small cluster right in the middle of her chest. She howled, a sharp sound of fury and pain, and bared bloodstained canines at them. But she didn't move, and that in itself indicated the frenzy was still under some control. She had done this to these people because she'd wanted to, not because she had to.

  "Candy Jackson, you're under arrest for—"

  Before Vannah had the chance to finish, the cream wolf attacked. Not him, as he'd expected, but Vannah.

  "Watch out,” he warned, and threw the spent weapon at the lunging wolf, hoping to distract her even as he sprang to intercept her. But Vannah was far faster. In the blink of an eye, she'd shifted shape and launched herself at the cream wolf. They hit in mid air with bone-jarring force and tumbled to the ground, snarling and snapping and tearing at each other. Crimson stripes appeared along Vannah's golden hide, and fear and anger surged through him. Cursing softly, he shifted shape and lunged into the fray, snapping at Candy's back legs in an attempt to hamstring her.

  As he and Vannah attacked from the back and the front, Ronan's russet-colored form hit Candy from the side, knocking her off her feet. Vannah pounced, locking her jaws around the cream wolf's exposed neck, a low warning rumbling up her throat.

  Candy stilled instantly. Vannah had her jaws locked around a wolf's most vulnerable spot, and she could so easily rip the other wolf's throat apart. Cade had no idea how she was resisting the temptation, especially given the bloody mess that lay behind them.

  He shifted to human form, as did Ronan. Vannah didn't move or shift shape until the drugs in the darts had taken effect. As she spat the hairs from her mouth, his gaze skated down her body, noting with relief the wounds on her side were little more than scratches.

  "That wasn't a frenzy,” she said eventually, wiping a hand across her mouth but still missing several cream hairs. “Or we wouldn't have downed her so easily."

  He brushed the hairs away from one corner of her lips with a fingertip. “No. She killed these people because she wanted to, because she enjoys the taste of flesh."

  Her gaze flicked to the mess behind them, and her face lost what little color it had left. “God, those poor people.” She hesitated, and there was a catch in her voice as she added, “I can't even see Marion."

  If Marion had spiky black hair and leathery brown skin, then her head and part of her torso were lying in a ditch just off the main path. But she didn't need to know that, didn't need to see it. He touched a hand to her chin and forced her gaze back to him. “Can Ronan handle the clean up? We need to get Candy contained so I can begin questioning her."

  "You won't."

  He frowned. “What do you mean, I won't?"

  "I briefly tried to touch Candy's mind when I was attacking her. She has extremely strong shields. I doubt I'd get through, let alone you."

  "I have to at least try. If I can't, I'll let you loose on her."

  Her grin was wry and at odds with the horror still lingering in her eyes. “Not sure about your use of the word ‘letting'. After all, this is my town, and I have as much right to question her as you do."

  She didn't, but he wasn't going to argue the point when it wasn't really that important.

  He bent down and scooped up Candy's limp form. “Why don't we get this bitch to the safety of a cell, and then we'll worry about who does what."

  * * * *

  To say Candy was unhappy about waking and finding herself confined by three walls and a set of bars would be the understatement of the year, Savannah thought dryly. The pale-skinned woman, her clothes half shredded and covered in mud and blood, paced her prison, occasionally stopping to kick a wall or fling abuse at the monitoring camera. She didn't go anywhere near the cell bars though, mainly because they were coated with silver. Even the simplest of brushes could burn a wolf's skin. Their installation had stopped a run of escapes and cut down on the continuous replacement of ordinary cell bars. But then, ordinary c
ell bars had never been designed with an angry werewolf in mind.

  "How long are you going to let her stew?” she asked, glancing at Cade. He was watching Candy's actions with narrowed eyes, as if every movement told him something new. And maybe they did. This is what he did for a living, after all.

  "Just a few more minutes.” He glanced at her, his navy eyes gleaming with cold amusement. “She hates being confined. It's getting to her."

  She glanced at the monitor. Candy was back to pacing rather than kicking. “Looks like anger to me."

  "It was at first, but she's starting to get fidgety. Look at her eyes. Wide open."

  "But angry rather than scared."

  "For the moment."

  Savannah crossed her arms. “Are we leaving her in that cell to interview her?"

  "Yes. I'm not taking the risk of her being able to call up the blood frenzy at will. Not when there are only the two of us here."

  "And Kel."

  He flashed her a half grin. “Kel can't even make decent coffee."

  "I heard that,” Kel said, walking into the room. “Maybe I should go back to giving you dishwater, Agent Jones."

  Savannah accepted the offered mug of coffee gratefully. The rich aroma had hints of cinnamon and chocolate, meaning Kel had given them the good stuff.

  "My palate greatly appreciates quality coffee,” Cade said, grabbing his cup with a nod of thanks. “It just doesn't get it often."

  "With the attitude you fling about, I'm not surprised.” Kel winked at Savannah as she left the room.

  Cade raised an eyebrow, his expression half-amused. “Is she always sharp-tongued?"

  "You've actually caught her on a good week. She can be quite acidic when she's in a mood."

  "Bet she's great for weeding away the callers who want to waste your time."

  Savannah grinned. “She surely is."

  She glanced at the screen as Candy stopped in front of the monitor and glared at them. It was a God-awful sight, given her face was covered in blood, strings of flesh, and short, dark hairs. Marion's coat had been black, she thought, and clenched her free hand against the desire to go down to that cell and beat the hell out of Candy.

  She took a sip of the aromatic coffee, then leaned forward and placed a finger on the screen. “What do you want to bet that line of bruising is thanks to Denny?"

  "Most likely. It's certainly the most advanced of her bruises.” He hesitated, glancing at her. “Your friend went down fighting."

  "Yes.” She paused and forced away the gory, barely-seen images, even though she knew they'd haunt her dreams for years to come. “So, how are we going to question her? Good cop, bad cop?"

  He rolled his eyes. “That went out with the eighties."

  "They still use it on TV."

  "TV is not real life, you know."

  "Really? Imagine that.” She took another sip, watching as Candy mouthed obscenities at the camera. “Are you going to question her while reading her telepathically?"

  He nodded. “And if that doesn't work, you can have a go at her."

  "And if that doesn't work?"

  He shrugged. “She can rot in the cell until she decides to cooperate."

  "That's not exactly legal."

  "We don't have to be legal. The reservation is not bound to obey all criminal laws."

  A fact she knew. She also knew that it didn't apply to major crimes, like murder. But maybe he was banking on the fact that Candy didn't know that.

  He thrust to his feet. “I think the time is right to question her."

  She pressed the record button so they had a verbal record of what was going on and followed him out the door and down the short corridor to the cells. Candy swung around as they entered.

  "About fucking time,” she spat. “I demand my rights. I want a lawyer."

  Cade leaned against the wall opposite the cell and sipped his coffee. Energy stirred the edges of her mind as he reached out mentally for Candy. “You're getting neither until you answer some questions."

  Candy sneered. “That ain't legal."

  "Actually, it is. This is a reservation. We don't have to strictly abide by human laws."

  "I ain't talking until I get representation."

  "Then you can sit in that cell and rot for all I care.” He paused. “I hope you enjoyed what you did, because it's the last meal you'll be getting for quite a while."

  He pushed away from the wall and began walking to the door. Your turn, he said, as he passed Savannah. You're right. I can't get through her shields.

  It hadn't taken him long to figure that out, but she was more than a little surprised that he'd given in so quickly.

  Not given in, he corrected. Just acknowledging a fact. In all my years of training, I've never struck a shield like hers. He hesitated, and amusement rippled through her mind, as warm as summer rain. Or a mind as strong as yours. I'm lucky you didn't kick my telepathic ass to kingdom come that night, aren't I?

  She wondered if he realized he'd read her mind as easily as if she'd spoken. Wondered if he knew that only someone extremely close to her could ever have done that. Like immediate family. Or the man who was meant to be her mate.

  I was under the impression that was the other reason you'd run that night. She flashed him a mental smile to take the sting from her words.

  He paused with his hand on the doorhandle and turned to look at her. I never intended to run out on you, Vannah, which is why I've spent years looking for you.

  She smiled. Yeah, so you could give me a piece of your mind.

  His smile echoed hers. Yes. And whatever else you feel inclined to take.

  She raised an eyebrow. Careful. I might take that as an admission of feelings.

  And you might be right. He opened the door. You'd better question our suspect. She's just about to blow her top because you're ignoring her.

  Tough. And there's no guarantee I'll do any better than you. Her shields feel as strong as my dad's.

  It's still worth a go. If she tries anything, I'll be just outside the door.

  "Hey, bitch,” Candy said, as Cade walked out and slammed the door behind him. “You going to let him do that?"

  Savannah sipped her coffee and pretended to ignore her. Candy slapped a hand against the cell bars, but quickly ripped it away. Anger had obviously made her forget about the silver. Or was it fear? Certainly there was something that sounded an awful lot like forced bravado in the woman's harsh voice now.

  "Hey,” Candy said, louder this time. “Don't you pretend you can't hear me."

  Savannah finally looked at her. “I'm sorry. Were you talking to me?"

  "Yeah. You gonna let that bastard do this?"

  She paused, as if considering the question while she reached out telepathically to the other wolf. Candy's shields weren't actually shields but something far stranger—a swirling vortex of power that threatened to suck her in and then spit her out. She'd felt the power of it briefly on the trail when she'd had the woman pinned, but this was like comparing a sun-shower to a tornado. And it was just as impossible to pass through. Maybe the frenzy—or the bloodlust, or whatever it had been—had caused the shield to weaken earlier. If that was the case, then she had no choice but to try to achieve a similar weakening.

  Can't do it, she said to Cade. But I think there might be another way to break her down.

  Like what?

  A two pronged attack. She hesitated. The silver bars will hold a wolf in a frenzy, won't it?

  Yeah, but you wouldn't want to get within reaching range. Apprehension swam through his thoughts. What do you intend to do?

  Speed things up a little. We can't afford to be here all day.

  Be careful.

  Natch.

  "You gonna answer or not?” Candy snapped impatiently.

  "That black wolf you tore to pieces?” Savannah kept her voice even, though it was hard when all she wanted to do was grab the bitch's face and knock her lights out. “Her name was Marion, and she was a friend of
mine. So yeah, I think I am going to let him do this to you."

  "Your daddy wouldn't be pleased about you breaking the rules. If he was still around to care, that was."

  Savannah ignored the cold pit of fury forming in her stomach and raised an eyebrow. Her mom and dad were safe, she knew that, but that didn't alter the fact that this woman had gone after them. Pack protection was born into every wolf, and Candy should have known better than to taunt her. “And why would you say something like that?"

  The other woman's smile was smug. Gloating “Because it's the truth, ranger. Because your sister will soon be dead meat, just as your lover will soon be dead meat. And then you'll die, just as horribly as my daddy died."

  Her daddy? Surely Candy couldn't be talking about Jontee ... could she?

  Afraid so, Cade said.

  Annoyance swept through her. Was there ever going to be a time when this man stopped keeping secrets? And when did you intend to tell me this?

  At the meeting called for later this afternoon.

  It wasn't good enough, and they both knew it. She returned her attention to Candy.

  "I never killed Jontee. He did that himself, by doing what he did.” She paused. “And how could you be Jontee's kid? You're too old to have come out of Rosehall."

  "Doesn't mean I can't be his kid."

  "How?"

  Candy raised an eyebrow. “Like I'd be stupid enough to tell you that."

  "Then tell me who set the bomb in my father's diner."

  Malice glittered in the other woman's eyes. “I'm not the ranger, you are. Find out your damn self."

  "I will, don't you worry about that.” She finished the last of her coffee and pushed away from the wall. “So tell me this. Was what you did on the Red Mountain trail a blood frenzy or simply bloodlust?"

  "What does it matter? I'm dead either way."

  Savannah stopped close to the bars, just out of Candy's reach, and smashed the cup against the wall. It broke, a sharp sound that made Candy jump. Shards of china scattered across the floor, the white of them glittering starkly against the dark carpet. She ignored them, concentrating on Candy, still holding the handle and one jagged piece of china in her hand.