“I’d better let you go. You don’t want to miss football,” she told him. Pierre operated on a pretty strict schedule. Drinks with colleagues on Mondays, dinner at his favourite sushi restaurant on Tuesdays. Jazz night at the club on Wednesdays. Thursday evenings meant football practice with friends. Although Luna was legally American, an almost entire lifetime of living in Europe had resulted in her using mostly British and European terminology since most of the boarders at her school came from the UK. Hell, French had become her first language and she couldn’t speak English without an accent, something Michael still loved to tease her about. He also liked to rip her when she said football instead of soccer, trousers instead of pants, jam instead of jelly. All of which was true though; she really was more European than American.
And how on earth can you call it football when you ran with the ball in your bloody hands?
“Yeah, I was just getting ready to leave. Be safe, ma petite, and remember to call me tomorrow. I miss you already.”
“Miss you, too.”
Hanging up, Luna continued to sit on the bed for a moment, the corners of the suitcase digging into her side slightly. Something about Pierre always calmed her, as if his voice could make her forget anything negative and just concentrate on the honey-sweetness of his tone. But she couldn’t stay sitting on her bed like a child, dwelling on the past.
She had to face the present.
With a deep breath, Luna forced herself to her feet and towel-dried her hair before running a brush through it. She slipped on her favourite tennis shoes and headed downstairs. Hopefully Chase would be gone, and she could try and relax before everything got too crazy.
As her foot touched the last step, her brother’s voice drifted softly from the direction of the kitchen.
“Sure ... yeah ... usual place ... I’m still waiting for my crown. Yeah, yeah, I am taking it seriously ... no way. He can tuck his tail between his legs and piss off before I neuter the bastard.” Stepping through the doorway, Michael turned in her direction, a frown pulling on his face. He hurried his call. “Gotta go, Mike. I’ll catch you later.” A smile stretched across his face. “Hey, sis.”
Luna rose her chin at the phone in his hand. “Who was that?”
Michael shrugged, throwing the phone down on the counter. “Just a friend. Need to meet him and a few others in a while but I thought I’d make us dinner before I head out. Whatever they gave you on the plane can’t be classed as food.” A deliberate lightness to his tone told her he was trying to hide something.
A crease formed between Luna’s brow as she marched further into the kitchen. Like with the rest of the house, the walls were washed in cream but needed redoing. “What kind of things?” she pressed, matching her tone with his. “Want some help with dinner?”
“Just business stuff and yep, you can make the salad. Double up on the onions for me please,” he told her, gesturing to the ingredients that already sat on the counter.
Without saying anything, Luna set about washing and dicing, working alongside her brother as he prepared thick steaks with salt and pepper.
Whenever Michael and her parents had visited her in Paris, they’d always cooked in silence; it was a familiarity that Luna desperately needed in that moment. That little piece of knowledge that some things don’t change, and the need to press him on the phone conversation faded.
For a second, she could imagine they stood in her little apartment in the heart of the city, preparing a new dish she’d teased about poisoning. It almost made her forget why she was there.
Almost.
Once cooked and the table prepared, Luna sat down, feeling less of an imposter in her own family’s home. Her face scrunched up in disgust as she watched her brother chew on the bloodiest steak she’d ever seen. “Urgh. You realise the rest of that cow is still mooing somewhere?”
Wiping the trace of blood still on his lip with his thumb then licking it clean, Michael laughed softly and cut off another chunk. “What can I say, I’m the big bad wolf. I like it rare.”
Luna speared some spinach and sautéed onion with her fork. “There’s rare and then there’s still alive,” she told him, trying to ignore the sight of the bloody steak oozing on the plate opposite her own. Where was a menu to use as a barrier when you needed it?
They ate silently for a few minutes before the question she’d been dreading popped out of her mouth. “When do we see the sheriff?”
The silence dragged on for what felt like hours to Luna before Michael finally swallowed his meat. He sat his fork down and reached for his glass. He took a deep breath but didn’t meet her eyes. “We’ve got a meeting with Briggs in the morning. I’m not sure what he wants to talk about, but it’s probably to confirm when we can collect the bodies. If that’s the case, we can have the funeral on Tuesday. That gives you a few days before you go home,” he told her, his voice flat. He took a long swallow and placed the glass down. Picking up his fork, Michael stabbed another hunk of bloody meat and stuffed it in his mouth.
I’ve not been here for a day and already he’s trying to get rid of me, Luna thought, trying to push down the bubble of disappointment and rejection. She concentrated on chewing her own meat that resembled nothing to his. No pink bits for her, thanks. And certainly no responding to her brother’s statement. It was a path she’d trod before; if past conversations were to go by, then the message was clear. She was here to say goodbye and that was it. No unnecessary lingering where she wasn’t welcome.
Adult or child, it didn’t matter. Typical. Just bloody typical of this so-called family. Frustration clogged her throat and it took her a few minutes to swallow it back down, along with the tears burning the back of her eyes. I will not cry in front of him.
As she scooped up a forkful of sweetcorn, Luna shook her head. “I just don’t understand what happened. I mean, Dad was always such a good driver,” Luna remarked. “Remember that time outside Carcassonne when that other car almost hit us? It was Dad’s skill behind the wheel that saved us. It’s unbelievable something got him here, a place he’d known all his life.”
Michael shrugged. “Perhaps a deer ran out in the road. We get a lot of them here, especially in these woods.”
She didn’t miss the lack of conviction in his tone. “But -”
“Luna.” Her eyes automatically rose to her brother’s face at the sound of steel in his voice. Something swirled in his cornflower blue eyes, an emotion she’d never seen before. “Stop it. You’re going to drive yourself crazy with what-ifs and all that shit. Dad’s gone. Mom’s gone. It was an accident. Nothing you can say will change that. Let it go.”
Luna opened her mouth but before the words formulating on the tip of her tongue could escape, there was a rap on the door. Her brow furrowed as she glanced from her brother towards the hallway. “Is that Chase? Did he forget something?”
Lines dug between Michael’s eyes as he set his cutlery down and inhaled deeply. “Nope. Chase just walks in whenever he likes. Must be someone else.”
Inhaling deeply, the creases in his forehead deepened. Rising to his feet, he strode out of the kitchen, his face etched with confusion. Luna pushed her chair back with a squeal and followed after him, curiosity snaking through her.
When she finally made it down the hallway, the front door was already opened. Michael remained still, his knuckles turning white as his fingers gripped the edge of the door.
Bewilderment replaced the curiosity. “Michael, what’s the matter?” She followed his eyes down.
And screamed.
Four
The screams only lasted for a minute until Michael nudged her to stop. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s not that bad,” he told her, but a flatness lingered within his voice and betrayed his words.
It did nothing to stop Luna’s heart from fluttering within her throat like a trapped butterfly yearning for release.
Blood lay splattered across the porch, the vivid scarlet a grisly glare on the weathered wood. Just in front of the
door lay the severed leg of an animal, the bone cracked and jagged, as blood continued to ooze from the wound. Strangely, a small pile of white pebbles sat next to it, with others trailing down the stairs. Trying to stop her steak from joining the bloody offering, Luna covered her mouth with her hand and prayed the rest of the poor creature wasn’t nearby. “Michael, what is that? A dog’s paw?”
Michael shook his head. “Not a dog. Wolf,” he told her, his voice strained and his eyes never leaving the leg.
Luna’s heart suddenly stopped fluttering and shot straight to her throat. “There are wolves here?” she asked, hating the panicked sound to her voice. No one had ever mentioned wolves to her before.
Another thing Mum and Dad kept from me.
Like a home. A family.
Nodding, he turned his eyes in her direction, his jaw clenched. “There’s a small pack in our woods. They don’t do us any harm so they’re free to run here. Just don’t go hiking at night and you’ll be fine.”
Luna turned away so she didn’t have to look at the severed leg. Nausea rolled through her. “Who on earth would want to leave that on your porch?”
Michael grabbed her upper arm and pulled her inside the house before shutting the sight away completely. “I haven’t got a goddamn idea. I’m gonna call Chase to see what he can tell me about it,” he said, his voice a touch harsher than necessary.
“You think Chase put it there? I thought he was your friend,” Luna replied, the revulsion in her voice turning to confusion as she allowed him to lead her back to the kitchen. Anything to get away from ... that. Her brow remained on permanent furrow whilst Michael grabbed his phone.
“No, I don’t think Chase had anything to do with it, but he might be able to tell me who did.” Without waiting for her to ask another question Michael held the phone to his ear. “Chase, get your ass down here. Someone’s left a wolf’s leg on my damn porch.” A second later he rolled his eyes. “No, I’m kidding. I thought I’d make a funny with you. Yes, I’m damn serious. Get over here now.” Michael lowered his voice and turned his back to Luna. “It smells like one of ours.”
Luna’s eyes narrowed at the whispered words. There’s something he’s not telling me, Luna told herself. Thankfully her heart had made its way back down to her chest now. When her brother turned around and faced her, she continued to frown at him. “He’s on his way,” he told her, tucking the phone into the back pocket of his jeans.
Twenty minutes of strained silence stretched around the kitchen as Luna cleared up, their appetites gone. Michael remained in their father’s study until she heard the distant sound of tires over gravel. She’d made it to the staircase when Michael opened the front door and found Chase bent down, examining the gory mess on the porch. The denim material stretched around muscular thighs.
What the hell is he sniffing the damn thing for? Luna asked herself, watching him inhale the air around the severed leg.
He glanced upwards, meeting Michael’s eyes. “It’s definitely a wolf’s leg,” he remarked.
“No shit, Sherlock. We can all rest easy now that mystery has been solved,” Michael retorted, rolling his eyes. “What can you tell me?”
Chase lowered his head. A sense of unease rippled through Luna at the way he stared at the leg. Those dark brown eyes scrutinized the limb as if searching for clues, yet he refused to touch it. A million questions burned over his face, but Luna couldn’t tell what they were. Was he a vet or something in his spare time? Surely neither of them would have the time to do that whilst running the garage? Perhaps he was a hunter; this was America after all. Was hunting legal in Virginia? Chase inhaled once more. “Fresh cut. An hour or two at the most I’d say. Don’t think an instrument was used, looks more like it was ripped off by hand.”
“Who on earth has the strength to rip off ha wolf’s leg by hand?” Luna interrupted, her tone incredulous. She folded her arms across her chest. Chase finally looked up at her.
“Get in the house,” he told her, his eyes darkening and his tone holding the bite of command.
Who the hell does he think he is telling me what to do? Luna shook her head, straightened her back, and narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t going anywhere he told her. “Someone butchered this poor creature and left part of its body on my parent’s porch. It’s disgusting and cruel. I want to know who did it and why.”
Chase’s dark eyes flickered to Michael. “I think it’s Mary, but I can’t be sure,” he told him. Despite the level calmness in his voice, there was an undercurrent of something dangerous there.
Luna watched her brother’s golden face drain of colour. “Head into the woods and see if you can track anything.” The direct order was an echo of the same authority present in their father’s tone when he was alive. She’d heard it directed at her far too many times before. Chase immediately got to his feet and ran towards the trees, disappearing into the thick camouflage within seconds.
OK, a hunter was a possibility.
Michael faced Luna, his face seemingly pleasant, but she recognised the tick in his lower jaw. It was a mirror of their father’s when he was stressed over something. “Go inside.” When she shook her head, he continued. “Go make us some coffee or tea. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Luna narrowed her eyes. “You’re not my father. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
Michael rose his hand, palm outstretched, and inhaled deeply. “Just ... please, sis. Go inside.”
A scowl painted Luna’s features, but she turned and headed back into the kitchen, leaving her brother with the grisly mess and whatever secrets he clutched to his chest. Rummaging through the cupboards, she finally located the mugs and pulled three out whilst berating her brother and his annoying friend at the same time. This wasn’t the Dark Ages when women took orders from the menfolk, where women would faint at the mere sight of blood. Hell, women deal with more blood in a year than most men in their entire lives, she told herself.
So why on earth had she done what Michael asked? As she picked up the coffee, her hand paused. No answer came to mind. Urgh.
She poured steaming dark liquid into two of the cups, making Michael’s the way he liked it, strong with cream and sugar. The bitter waft of coffee swirled up her nostrils. Since she didn’t know how Chase took his, he could damn well drink it the way she made it. Black and strong and enough to keep a bear awake all winter.
Whilst Luna liked the smell of coffee, she hated the taste. She needed tea. Where on earth would tea be in a house mostly of coffee drinkers? It took a few minutes, finally locating the small box of Earl Grey hidden in the pantry.
A small smile spread across her face as she held it in her hand. She’d brought the tea as a Christmas gift for her mother when they’d all met up in Paris for the holidays.
As the kettle boiled, Luna wished that hadn’t been the last time she’d seen her parents. The trips had grown fewer over the last few years since she’d become an adult, the expense travelling to Europe every year rising. No matter how many times she’d offered to fly out to them, every time they’d said no. They preferred coming to her, so they claimed.
With the tea made, Luna sat at the table, her hands wrapped around her mug and breathed in the comforting scent of bergamot.
Michael reappeared after what seemed like a lifetime, his face solemn and his eyes troubled. Watching him silently stride to the other side of the kitchen and pick up his own mug, Luna realised she’d never seen him so serious before. She found the thought oddly disturbing.
Eventually, Michael sunk into his seat opposite her and stared down at the contents of his mug. “The leg belongs to a wolf of ours. She’s one of the gentlest of the pack. I’m heading out to see if I can find the rest of her.” His voice was steady but flat. Worry creased lines in his brow and his blue eyes darkened with determination.
He knows there’s no chance of her being alive. Luna set her cup down. “Why are there wolves in the woods? Aren’t they dangerous?”
Michael shook
his head, the lines softening slightly. “Wolves aren’t as bad as everyone makes them out to be. Yeah, they can be dangerous, but only when provoked. They’ve been on this land for centuries, right back to when our first ancestors came here. They were running here even when we were babies. We don’t hurt them or run them off. We love them.” His eyes flicked upwards, bold with anger. “And as long as they’re on my land, I will protect them.”
My land. Not ours.
Luna was taken aback at the resolve and passion that blazed within his voice. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard the same level of emotion from him for anything else, not even any of his many ex-girlfriends.
“Listen,” Michael began, his eyes boring into hers. “I’ve got to go now, and I won’t be back until late. I want you to stay here. Don’t go out into the woods at all. Chase is going to stay with you.”
A surge of annoyance bubbled up again. “Quoi? Michael, you’re my brother and I love you, but I’m twenty-seven. I don’t need your friend to babysit me. Why would you need him to stay here?” Shoulders sagging, she leaned back and fixed him with a glare.
An exasperated sigh shot from his lips. “I don’t care how old you are, Luna, you’re staying indoors until I get back and that’s final. I’ve lost my parents and one of my pack in less than a week. I don’t want anything happening to you now.” Pushing away from the table, Michael grabbed his keys from the counter and a pocketknife from a drawer. Luna raised an eyebrow but didn’t say a word. “I’ll be back later. I’ve got my phone if you need me.” Without saying anything or waiting for an answer, he strode out of the house, the door banging loud enough to hear from the kitchen.
House of Wolves (Silver Moon Series Book 1) Page 3
