“She what?”
“Simon…before she got away from him, he—”
Glen didn’t like where this was going. He felt coldness spread through his body. He didn’t want to hear the next part.
“He slept with her.”
It was worse than he thought. He felt sickened.
“She came home,” Jason continued in a strained voice. He was about to break again. “She smelled of him. His scent—”
“I know,” Glen answered. “I know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Shit.”
Glass crunched as Jason turned and walked back toward him. “We need to figure out a plan.”
“I agree.”
Jason sighed. Glen could see he was struggling to keep calm. It wasn’t an easy task. He kicked over a broken piece of a chair and let out a frustrated growl.
“We have to find Rose,” Glen said. “As soon as possible.”
“She won’t come to me. I hurt her. I was angry with her.”
“Oh, Jason, no,” Glen groaned. He felt a surge of anger at Jason, but he let it go.
“Yes,” Jason said. “She won’t want to come back, not for a long time.”
“She’ll talk to me,” Glen said. “But we have to find her first.”
“Try Cheyenne. She’d go there.”
“Yeah,” Glen agreed. He glanced around the room. The telephone lay a few feet from him, broken. The cord was severed from the wall. “Better use the other phone.” He looked up at Jason. “I left my cell at the PRDI.”
“Bedroom,” Jason said, not looking at him. His attention was focused on the ugly urine stain on the couch and floor.
Glen nodded and headed down the hall. He pushed open the bedroom door. The room was undisturbed, but Simon’s scent lingered. Glen didn’t like it and he glanced around nervously. The phone was by the bed. The answering machine light flashed.
“Jason,” he called down the hall. “There’s a message on the machine.” It wasn’t his message, he knew. He hadn’t left one.
Jason appeared a few minutes later. He paused in the doorway.
“Check it.” His voice sounded strange.
Glen moved forward and hit the button. They listened to Rose’s recorded voice. When the machine finished, there was a long beep and a click as the tape stopped.
“The PRDI,” Jason said. “Why would she go there?”
Glen glanced over at him. The fierce look on Jason’s face had softened with Rose’s admission. “It would be the last place you would look for her.”
Jason jerked his head around, eyes flashing angrily for a moment.
“I know her. It’s what she would’ve done, to protect herself,” Glen said.
“Yeah,” Jason said after a few moments of silence. “You’re right.” He sniffed the air.
“You smell it, too.” Glen brought his eyebrows together. “Simon was in here.”
They both realized it at the same time. They stared at each other with identical horror stricken faces.
“The PRDI,” Glen whispered. “He’s gone to them.”
But Jason didn’t hear him. He was already gone and Glen was close behind.
Chapter Twenty-One
They reached the PRDI safe house in the early afternoon. It was a warm day. Glen pulled to the curb out front and stared at the building. It looked as it ever did, looming and dark.
There were a few members that argued the place was cursed. Glen looked out at the monuments that looked like tombstones on the grass. He was beginning to believe them. He slipped off his jacket as he sat there. He moved slowly, reluctantly. He didn’t want to find out what happened here.
Jason, in the passenger seat beside him, didn’t hesitate. He opened his door and slid out. He was halfway up the pavement before Glen was even out of the van. He jogged to catch up with him. He stopped when Jason did, just short of the door.
“What is it—?” he started to ask, but stopped. He smelled it. Were-blood.
“There.” Jason pointed at the sidewalk under their feet. There were splotches of it in a trailing leading toward the door. It had dried to a dull brown, but it was undeniably blood.
“Shit.” Glen looked to Jason and they both scrambled for the door. There was more blood on the step and porch. There was some smeared on the bottom of the door.
Glen pressed his palm firmly to the button to buzz them in. They heard the buzzing through the door. They waited a few moments, but no one opened the door.
“There’s no one here,” Jason said. Glen stopped buzzing. He was right.
“Damn, hang on.” Glen searched his back pocket for his wallet. Luckily he had it with him. He opened it and removed a plain black card that looked like a credit card. He then grabbed the box that housed the buzzing button and pulled it off. Inside it was a terminal. He swiped the card and hit a few numbers. A second later, the door opened.
“Override system,” Glen said when he looked over at Jason. “For emergencies.” He pushed open the door and together they stepped in.
Glen remembered quite vividly what it had been like years ago to step in here and see carnage and smell the overwhelming scent of death and blood. He had seen the aftermath of the raid. He had seen the dead bodies strewn everywhere. He experienced it again as he took a few steps ahead of Jason. He froze.
The foyer was dark and there were no dead bodies to be found, but there was a large pool of blood and broken spokes on the staircase.
“Rose,” Jason whispered. “It’s her blood.”
“Yes.” Glen choked. He felt sick again.
“Rose!” Jason’s voice echoed through the hall.
“She’s not here,” Glen tried to say, but it only came out in a groan. The blood smell was stronger and it didn’t belong to just Rose. “It’s Claire.”
“What?” Jason spun. Spittle hung down his bottom lip, sticking into his facial stubble. His eyes were wild. “Claire?”
“Claire. She was here, too. I smell—” He stopped there. He couldn’t say anything else.
“I smell—” Jason sniffed the air. “I smell it, too.” His attention turned. He stared up the stairs. A faint light was coming from down the upstairs hallway. He turned, his gaze meeting Glen’s.
Jason vaulted over the broken banister of the stairs and reached the landing before Glen did. He ran down the hall and reached the partially open door first. He pushed it back, holding his breath.
“Oh God,” Glen exclaimed when he stopped, staring over Jason’s shoulder at the mess that had once been Claire.
The smell was bad. It was warm, sickly from poor ventilation and the warmness of the October day. She was propped up halfway against one of the walls, her head at an odd angle because her throat was no longer there. Flies had begun to buzz around her. The blood in the carpet was still red, still wet. Her eyes stared at nothing.
“Simon.” Jason barely could speak the word. He shook with his silent rage. Glen had to turn away. He had seen death before, but never anything like this. It seemed so…cruel and angry. Claire did not deserve to die that way.
Having known her a little better than most of the pack, Glen felt hurt. He had liked Claire. She had helped the PRDI so much.
“We—we have to tell someone. We have to fix this,” he said.
Jason said nothing. His eyes finally broke away from her body and searched the room. There were bloody paw prints stained into the carpet, paw prints that changed into bare feet.
“The bastard,” Jason finally said. “He shifted and did this. He tortured her.”
“We have to call the PRDI. We have to let them know. We have to tell—Oh God, how are we going to tell him? How are we going to tell Davis?”
“I don’t know.” Jason’s eyes were suddenly drawn toward the computer screen. His attention wavered. He was staring at his name on the flashing screen.
He moved away from Glen and entered the room, careful not to step in any of the mess. On the floor in front of the computer was some crumpled ledger paper. He left
it there, turned back to the screen.
He read over the words. It was Claire’s diary, the journal she kept on the computer. Glen said something, but he didn’t hear.
Simon and Jason are brothers. They share the same father, Joshua Conner. It’s all written in black and white in the letter…
He blinked. He didn’t believe what he was reading. He read it again, twice. The paper rustled under his feet as he stepped back. He bent, picked it up. It was stained with blood, but most of it was still legible.
“What is it?” Glen asked.
“A letter,” Jason answered in a monotone. He unfolded it and began to read. It only took him a few moments to skim through it, but he had to read it again, slowly. He had to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.
“What is it?” Glen repeated. “Did Simon leave a note?”
“Not Simon,” Jason was finally able to say. He felt numb. The discovery of Claire’s body hadn’t left him as angry or numb as this. He folded the letter and held it out to Glen without looking into the man’s dark eyes. “It’s from his father.”
“But his father—” Glen trailed off as he opened the letter and also began to read. Jason turned to watch his reaction. He turned the page, read the next few paragraphs. His mouth dropped open. “Wait, you mean—”
“That’s what it says,” Jason answered. “And it’s true.”
“You knew this?” Glen asked.
“Hell no, I didn’t know about it. This is all news to me! Simon Conner is my brother…”
“This has to be a dream,” Glen said. “I can’t believe it. How do you know it's true?”
Jason felt the wolf stirring within him. Of all the things that had been done to him, especially recently, this had to be the hardest blow of all. His father, the man he had only met once, that man was the father of his worst enemy, the enemy that killed Claire, that kidnapped Rose, that fucked her, hurt her.
He couldn’t believe it either.
He exploded with rage. He grabbed the computer monitor quite suddenly and launched it at the wall. It shattered and sparks flew. He roared loudly.
“Jason!”
Jason kicked the desk, sending it flying back and colliding with the remains of the shattered and smoking computer.
“It won’t help to get angry now. We’ll find Simon. We’ll get him this time.” Glen tried to reason, hoping to calm Jason down. “He still has Rose.”
Jason stopped. “I know,” he said, panting heavily. “He has her. He’s hurt her. I have to find him. I have to kill him. There’s no way around this time. He has a lot to atone for.”
Glen turned to look at Claire. “We have to take care of her first. I have to call—”
Jason, still numb, increasingly hollow, only nodded. He went silent. He had a plan to formulate. More than ever he wanted Simon dead. It had been personal before, but now, now it was even more so. He was his brother. They shared the same blood.
Somehow, that made him disgusted with himself.
But he was better than Simon. He would find him. He would kill him. It didn’t matter if they were related. It was more than that.
Glen began to leave the room, in search of a phone that still worked when the door buzzed. It was a loud sound and they both jumped. Jason turned to look at the monitor. It was splashed with blood, but he could still make out the figure that stood outside on the porch.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Davis.”
“Oh shit, we can’t let him in. What’s he doing here? We can’t let him see her like this.”
The door buzzed again. Jason focused on the monitor. Davis was looking around and he was frantically worried. He had seen the blood, probably smelled it. He pushed the buzzer again.
“We can’t just let him stay out there. He has an override key. He’ll get in,” Glen said.
“Better hurry,” Jason said. “He’s got it out.”
“Do something. Cover her. Anything.” Jason moved quickly. He understood Glen’s anxiousness. They couldn’t let Davis find his girlfriend like this.
Glen wasted no time and hurried down the stairs. He reached the downstairs foyer just as Davis used the override card and threw the door open.
“What’s going on?” he asked immediately. His face was white, ashen. “What’s going on?” He smelled the air.
“Just calm down, Davis. You need to stay down here. You can’t go up there.”
“Why not? What’s happened?” He peered around Glen at the blood at the foot of the stairs and the broken wood littering the floor. “Something’s wrong. Where’s Claire?”
“Davis—”
“Where is she?” he yelled. Glen grabbed his shoulders as Davis made to pass him.
“Wait,” he said, trying to stay calm. “I can’t let you. You have to listen to me.”
“What happened to her? I can smell your fear. I can smell her. I smell—”
“Something bad happened. There was an attack—”
“Where is she?” Davis yelled. With a sudden burst of strength Glen had not been expecting, he broke free and ran for the stairs.
“You can’t go up there, Davis!” he yelled after him, just a few footsteps behind.
Jason intercepted him at the office door. He had closed it, blocking it with his body. There was blood on his shirt and jeans, Claire’s blood.
“Let me in,” Davis said. His voice was low and dark. “Let me in.”
“No, Davis, I can’t.”
“Let me the fuck in.” He shoved at Jason, slamming him back against the door. He got right in his face. Jason set his jaw and Glen could see his temple throb as he tried to control his anger.
“Don’t shove me, pup.” He shoved back. Davis stumbled a bit, but was back at him in a moment. He shoved his forearm against Jason’s throat. He was so strong that Jason was taken aback by it.
“Let me in there,” Davis said again. This time, his voice was so low it was a growl. His normally gray eyes were golden, angry. Jason stared at him, panting.
“Let go of me, Davis,” he said, barely able to speak the words. Davis’s arm pressed against his Adam’s apple. “You can go in.”
Davis didn’t seem to believe him at first. His eyes searched his face. Apparently satisfied he was telling the truth, he dropped his arm. He shoved Jason aside. He coughed and rubbed his throat as they watched Davis throw open the door.
Jason had hastily covered her body with a fleece blanket he had found on the floor. Davis stared at it. Blood was still everywhere. There had been nothing Jason could’ve done about that.
“No.” The word hissed out Davis like a release of steam. “No.”
Glen wanted to say something, but there was nothing he could say.
“It was Simon,” Jason said once he had regained the use of his full voice.
“Simon…Simon did this.” He sounded stunned, numb. He nodded his head in understanding. “Simon did this.”
Then he lost it. Both of them had been expecting it, but not so suddenly, not as fiercely. Davis howled, literally threw back his head and let loose. Jason had never heard anything so heart-wrenching, so horribly pained. It reverberated throughout the building.
He kicked at the door, throwing it back so that it nearly flew off the hinges. He crossed the threshold. He knelt in the blood and with a shaking hand, reached for the blanket.
It slid off her body and Davis choked back a sob. His hand went to his mouth, covering it. The cries tore from him.
They stood behind him, keeping a respectable distance. Davis’s sobbing became louder and incoherent. He held out his hand, as if to touch her, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was like that for several minutes, poised and never moving.
Finally, his sobs dwindled to just sniffles. He wiped his eyes and he slowly stood.
“We’re sorry,” Glen said. He didn’t know what else to offer. Davis didn’t turn, but they saw the subtle nod of his head. He closed his hands
together into tight fists. They began to shake.
“I will kill him,” Davis began. His voice was even, dark, scary. “I will find him and I will kill him.”
“Not before I do,” Jason said. “He still has Rose.”
Davis’s eyes blazed yellow as he spun around. His teeth had elongated. He was nearing a rage shift. “It’s not all about Rose. Simon killed Claire. He killed the woman I love!”
Then suddenly, he pounced forward and threw himself at Jason. His hands extended, becoming claws. Jason let out a startled cry and crossed his arms over his face. Davis’s weight bore down on him. He slashed and drew blood across Jason’s forearms.
“Stop,” Glen yelled. Jason threw Davis back with tremendous force and he collided with the wall behind him. He roared angrily and charged forward. He slammed into Jason at full force, throwing him against the monitors. They shook, nearly tottering.
“It’s always about you!” Davis’s face was red with rage. “It’s always about your revenge and how wronged you were. Simon did more to me than he ever did to you.”
“Fucker!” Jason choked. Davis had him by his shirt collar, tightening it around his throat. He used his own anger to break free of the hold. “Simon has my mate.”
“And Simon killed mine.”
The half-bloods were at each other again and this time Jason fought back. His sharp fingernails dug into Davis’s flesh. Davis growled, angry and feral. He didn’t even look human any more.
Suddenly, he shrieked. It wasn’t a scream, it wasn’t a yell. Glen had never heard a sound like it before. He broke free of Jason and doubled over. He shrieked again. A look of pure agony crossed his face.
Glen stared at him, dumbstruck. He recognized all the signs of a shift.
“Jason, he’s shifting.” Glen grabbed for Davis. He couldn’t let him do it. His first shift should not be a rage shift. “Jason, help me!”
Glen wrapped his arms around Davis, holding him in a big bear hug. If anything could stop him, it would be his full-blood strength. He used all his resolve to keep him back. Davis struggled fiercely. Glen could feel his muscles straining.
Hunter's Moon Page 20
