Beneath a Darkening Moon

by Keri Arthur

  But what about René? Where was he?

  She swept her gaze around the clearing and found him on the ground, as naked as Cade and trussed up so tightly his fingers and toes were white from lack of blood.

  Her gaze went back to the two women. They were talking, but the wind snatched their words and flung them away before she could make out what they were saying. She shifted around until she was downwind and the words carried to her.

  "Trust a man to take the fun out of things.” Anni's voice was contemptuous, cold. She glanced at Candy and waved a hand towards René. “My dear, he's all yours."

  Even before she'd finished speaking, the golden shifting haze shimmered over Candy's naked form, moving her from human to wolf. Then she was snarling and leaping, through the air, arrowing straight toward the helpless René.

  Savannah didn't pause to think. She just grabbed the gun from the waist of her pants and fired that one precious silver bullet. Her shot was on target, hitting Candy in the middle and flinging her backwards as blood and fur sprayed. Her deep-seated, hungry growling became a sharp sound of pain, but even that was cut off as she hit the ground. She wasn't dead—the twitching in her limbs and her soft whimpering attested to that—but if she didn't get help, she soon would be. Very few wolves could survive a silver bullet for long.

  Savannah shifted the barrel and centered it on Anni—and discovered that Anni was also armed. Only her weapon was aimed at Cade.

  "Drop it,” she warned softly. “Or I'll shoot his fucking dick off."

  Something hit Savannah's shields—a furious rapping that had a definite male feel. Cade. She lowered a shield and let him in.

  Don't you dare drop that weapon. His mind voice was furious, and yet it was tinged with fear—for her. She intends to kill us anyway, and dropping that weapon only makes her job easier.

  If I don't drop it, she'll follow through with her threat. She held up one hand and let the weapon slide around her finger. And I am not unprotected without the gun. Anni just thinks I am.

  And if you do drop it, what's to stop her from shooting me anyway? She wants us to pay with pain, Vannah, and that sure as hell would be one painful way to go.

  He was right in that respect. Anni was just as likely to shoot as not.

  "Drop it,” Anni warned softly. “Or I will fire."

  "You'll fire anyway,” she said. To Cade, she added, Shield René. I wouldn't put it past her to try and use him to attack me.

  Will do. Just be careful she doesn't try to attack you telepathically.

  The vicious grin that stretched Anni's thin lips suggested that Cade's guess about being shot regardless of whether or not Savannah gave up her gun had been correct.

  "Maybe I will shoot,” Anni said, “and maybe I won't. Either way, you have no choice."

  "There's always a choice, Jina."

  She didn't react to the use of her real name. Knowing Anni's warped way of thinking, she probably gained a whole lot of satisfaction about them knowing who she really was.

  "Like you and that bastard over there gave Jontee a choice?"

  "Jontee had a choice. He could have walked away from Rosehall or given up Nelle if she was the force behind the murders."

  "He believed in Rosehall. In what it stood for."

  "And what did it really stand for?” She carefully shifted her grip so that she was once again holding the gun at the ready. “It was all a lie. A big fat lie designed to do nothing more than gather fresh fodder for the next blood letting."

  "Rosehall was an ideal. It was a celebration of life and love and freedom."

  "And death. Don't forget the celebration of death."

  "That was never part of the original idea."

  Hadn't it been? After everything she'd read, she had to wonder.

  "Jontee was never free, Jina. Not then, and not now. Especially now that you've ensured his infamy lives on. Ensured he can't rest in peace."

  "The only thing I'm ensuring is that he can finally rest, knowing that the very people who caused his downfall will finally join him in hell. Now drop the damn weapon."

  She didn't drop it. She squeezed the trigger and fired, aiming for Jina's hand rather than the safer option of a body shot. The gun's retort echoed across the brief silence, followed quickly by Jina's yelp as the bullet tore through her hand. Blood, bone, and weapon flew. Jina's face contorted with pain and fury as the shimmer of shapechanging swept over her body. In wolf form, she launched herself across the fire, teeth bared and the bloody need to rend and tear gleaming in her eyes.

  Savannah braced and aimed the gun, but before she could fire, another shot rang out. Jina flopped to the ground, blood and God knows what else leaking out from the gaping hole in her head.

  Anton rose from behind the boulders across the clearing and gave her a grim smile. “That's one less murderer for the courts to worry about."

  Trista came out of the shadows, and a second later, so did Ronan. She met his gaze, saw the relief there, and gave him a smile before she looked at Cade. The relief in the navy blue depths of his eyes echoed right through her. Tension slithered from her limbs, leaving her suddenly weak and shaky. They were all right. All of the people she cared about were all right.

  And in the end, it had been almost too easy to stop Jina's mad plot for revenge. Something she certainly hadn't expected.

  She wiped the sweat from her brow, clicked the safety back on the gun and shoved it away.

  "I think Candy's still alive,” she said.

  Anton nodded. “We'll take care of her, since I'm sure you'll want to take care of the boss.” A grin touched his lips as he glanced at Ronan. “Which leaves René to you."

  "I always get the best jobs,” Ronan muttered.

  She walked over to Cade and lightly touched his cheek. “As if I'd let her shoot you anywhere, let alone something as vital to our future as your cock."

  He grinned. “So I'm only loved for my skills in the sack?"

  "Well, at this stage, I'm not sure what more there is.” She kissed him softly and sweetly, but with all the relief and love that was welling inside her. Emotions she could feel in the warm glow of his thoughts, and in the caress of his lips. When she finally pulled away, she added, “I guess it's up to you to show me what else there is."

  "Hard thing to do when I'm tied up,” he said wryly.

  "Ah. Well, I guess I'd better untie you then."

  "It would be a good start."

  She grinned and walked around the stump. His wrists were rubbed raw, and the tight rope was blood-soaked. “You've made a mess back here,” she said, getting out her knife.

  "Well, I was hardly going to stand back and calmly watch you walk into a trap now, was I?"

  "I can defend myself.” The first strand of ropes snapped away. Two more to go. She frowned in concentration, trying to avoid cutting his bloody flesh along with the rope.

  "I know. I just didn't want you to have to defend yourself. A wolf likes to protect his own."

  Another strand gone. “You know, Neva and I swore long ago never to fall for alphas. We decided your lot was far too much trouble."

  "And how old were you when you decided this?” Amusement touched his voice.

  "Five."

  "A very wise age,” he commented, the amusement deeper this time.

  The last strand fell away. He stepped away from the post, rubbing his wrists as she shoved the knife back in its sheath. Then she met his gaze, and she realized that the amusement in his voice didn't touch his face. That his eyes were, in fact, curiously blank.

  Anni had him. Controlled him. From the grave.

  Her stomach bottomed out, but before she could react, his fist smashed into her face and she was flying backwards. Her yelp of surprise drowned in the haze of pain and the rush of blood. She hit the ground with a grunt, the gun at her back digging into her spine, almost paralyzing her with agony. Then he was on her, his weight pinning her body and her arms, his fists pummeling her hard and fast, until all she could feel
was pain and all she could see was the man she loved battering her. Killing her.

  And suddenly Neva was there, in her mind, frantically wanting to know what was happening, what was going on.

  She ignored her sister, and screamed both verbally and mentally, “Cade! It's me, Vannah!” But there was no response from him. His mind was locked with Anni's vicious last wishes, and he wasn't hearing anything else.

  As she twisted from side to side, desperately trying to avoid his blows, she dropped her shields and arrowed into his mind—only to rebound off a shield similar to Candy's. Anni had protected her handiwork, which meant she had never intended to shoot her or Cade. She'd planned all along to let them destroy each other.

  The blows kept coming and blackness washed though her, threatening to sweep her into unconsciousness, and ultimately, death. From a distance she heard Ronan shout. The pummeling stopped, and there was a click and several shots. Then she heard a cry of pain. Female. Trista.

  God help her, she had to stop him, before he killed everyone. And there was only one way to do it.

  She reached out to Neva, forming a link with her for her sister's talents and strength, dragging on them hard and fast. Then she flung it all—every bit of pain, hurt, fear and love she felt—straight at him. The force seemed to explode into the air, and it crashed through the barriers in his mind as easily as a hurricane tore through trees, shattering not only the barrier but any hold Anni had on his mind. Awareness surged briefly between them, along with dawning horror. Then Cade was torn from her body and flung backwards.

  The effort left her drained and weak. She didn't hear him land, didn't see him land. She simply let the blackness take her to a place where there was no pain.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Savannah glanced away from the mirror as Neva waddled into the small hospital room, and she couldn't help grinning. “Sis, you're looking fatter every time I see you."

  Neva grimaced as she tossed a bag on a nearby chair and eased herself onto the end of the bed. “That's because I am fatter. I swear I'm having triplets, even if the doc insists there are only two fatties inside."

  Savannah grinned. “Doctors and machines are not infallible. Triplets or even quads are always a remote possibility."

  "Bite your tongue. Two mini Duncans are more than enough to contend with.” Her smile faded a little. “Have you heard from Cade yet?"

  Savannah sighed and looked back at the mirror. Her reflection wasn't a pretty sight—rainbow-colored bruises, a swollen, cut nose, a fat lip and cut chin. Her torso had fared little better, and right now she looked and felt like a punching bag. In fact, she'd seen punching bags that actually looked better than she did right now. But while she might be bruised, nothing had been broken. Even in the midst of a nightmare, Cade had somehow managed to have some control over his punches—enough to merely batter rather than break.

  "No.” she said eventually. “I haven't."

  "You want me to go find him and drag him here by the scruff of his neck?"

  Savannah grinned. “I'd love to see you try. But no, I don't."

  "Damn it, he should be here with you!"

  "I can understand why he isn't."

  Neva harumphed. “If he tries to leave town, he'll have a posse on his tail."

  Her grin grew. “He won't leave."

  "You're sure of that?"

  "Yes."

  "Then tell me why the hell he isn't here begging for your forgiveness and running after your every need?"

  "Because he doesn't need my forgiveness, and because he's well aware that I'm more than capable of taking care of myself."

  "That doesn't excuse him for not coming to visit you."

  Well, no, it didn't. But he had been here, for every single moment of the ten hours she'd been out of it. And while she wasn't entirely sure why he hadn't come back to visit her in the two days since then, she trusted what they had between them enough to know he wasn't going anywhere. He was just walking away from the sight of all the damage he'd done rather than walking away from her.

  "I'm going to talk to him now.” She finished putting her hair into a ponytail, wincing a little as pain slithered through bruised muscles.

  "You shouldn't even be out of bed yet."

  "God, have you and Ronan taken nagging pills or what? He's currently down the hall, harassing the nurses, trying to get them to make me stay."

  Neva grinned. “I know. I passed him on the way up here."

  "Then why didn't you tell him not to waste his breath?"

  "Because it's his breath to waste and because that pretty blonde nurse was down there. She's rather keen on him, you know."

  "No, I didn't, and nor should you."

  Neva chuckled softly. “What's the good of a psychic talent if you can't put it to use occasionally? Ronan's too good a catch to keep playing the lone wolf."

  Savannah wagged a finger at her. “Don't play matchmaking games. He'll sense it and get pissed off."

  "You're no fun,” Neva muttered, the twinkle in her eyes suggesting the idea was neither gone nor forgotten. She levered herself off the bed. “You want a ride anywhere?"

  "No. I need to stretch aching muscles."

  "And here I thought the doc had ordered you to rest."

  He had. And she would, once she was with Cade. “If you keep nagging me, I'll suggest to Duncan he take you back to the mansion and make you rest."

  "Tart.” Neva waddled to her and lightly touched a hand to Savannah's cheek. “Let me know how things go."

  "I will."

  Once Neva had left, she walked over to the bed and opened the bag. Loose pants, a sweater and flip-flops. Not the most attractive outfit, but it was at least comfortable. And she doubted Cade would be too worried about what she was wearing.

  She dressed and left the hospital—and a happy Ronan shamelessly flirting with the blonde nurse.

  The day was one of those crisp autumn ones with lots of sunshine, and yet there was a touch of winter chill in the soft breeze. She paused on the bottom step and breathed deeply, clearing her lungs of the stale hospital air. Then she turned and walked to her lodge.

  By the time she'd reached the bottom of the steep driveway, she was sweating and aching and calling herself all sorts of names for not accepting Neva's offer of a ride. The beating had sapped her strength more than she'd realized, and the driveway might as well be Mount Everest, for all the hope she had of climbing it right now.

  But before she could call for help, Cade appeared, walking down the driveway towards her. She didn't move, just enjoyed the sight of him—enjoyed the play of sun across his lightly-tanned arms, the way his thigh muscles moved under his jeans, even the easy way he walked. But most of all, she enjoyed the way his navy gaze met hers, held hers, as if she were something so precious he feared to look away in case she disappeared.

  "Need a hand?” he said, as he stopped in front of her.

  She smiled. “Yeah. Overestimated my strength, I'm afraid."

  "You should have called."

  "I wanted to walk."

  "And now you're regretting it."

  "And now I'm regretting it,” she agreed.

  A smile touched his lips, and he carefully picked her up and carried her back up the hill. She sighed in contentment and rested her head against his shoulder, listening to the soothing, steady beat of his heart.

  She could have stayed there forever, listening to that beat.

  "Been fixing a few things up,” he said, as they approached the lodge.

  Her gaze skirted across the old building. At first glance, there didn't appear to be much difference than when she'd last seen it. Then she noticed that the front steps had been repaired, and the skeleton of a new roof had appeared over the damaged wing.

  "So you have.” She met his gaze. “You didn't have to."

  "Yes, I did.” He walked through the open front door, up the stairs and along the hall with the roof still intact. The air was fresh, filled with the sharpness of new paint. Not all t
he walls were painted, but most were at least patched. “But not for the reasons you think."

  She raised her eyebrows as he walked into one of the end rooms. The old sofa they'd used the first time they'd made love had been dragged in here, and a fire had been started. He'd been expecting her. He placed her on the sofa and squatted in front of her.

  She touched a hand to his cheek and slid it down his lips. He kissed each finger as she asked, “And what might those reasons be?"

  "This isn't an apology,” he said, waving a hand at the freshly painted walls around them.

  She knew that already, but she still asked the question, simply because he wanted her to ask it. “Then what is it?"

  "A promise. A commitment.” He touched a hand to her cheek, his fingers warm and gentle against her skin. “What I did to you is a nightmare that will haunt the worst of my nights, but I won't let it destroy me, and I won't let it destroy us. I may not know you as well as I should, but I do love you, Savannah, and I want to live the rest of my life with you."

  The emotions, so raw and deep, in his eyes had tears touching hers. “Good, because I sure as hell wasn't going to let you go anywhere anyway."

  He grinned, and leaned forward, gently kissing the unswollen section of her mouth. “Had the posse ready to go, huh?"

  "Neva did. I told her we wouldn't need it.” She ran her fingers through the silky length of his brown hair and slid them around the back of his neck. “You knew I was okay. That's why you weren't at the hospital."

  His grin became wry. “Actually, I wasn't at the hospital because your dad threatened to do me serious bodily harm if I didn't leave you alone and give you time to recover and think."

  "I am going to kill my father."