Kissed By Moonlight

by Adrianne Brooks

  * * * *

  Gabriel Evans was a big fan of silence.

  Silence soothed his savage beast.

  Silence is what made the world go round.

  Most Weres would disagree. They were always talking, yapping, growling, howling. They were always making so much noise. “I am here” their useless prattling seemed to say. “Don’t forget me. I exist.”

  He supposed that he could understand them on a certain level. He had spent so many years in the background, barely existing, that his own kind had nicknamed him “Ghost.” He may as well have been dead and gone. Gabriel had known for a long time that the other Hell Hounds who shared the title of Alpha thought of him as a bit strange. A bit off.

  But it was like the humans said.

  Never drag a book by its cover.

  Or was it never judge a brook by its color?

  He couldn’t remember.

  Old adages weren’t exactly his strong suit.

  What he did know, was that he was no ghost. He was not invisible. He was not unseen. He was not dead. Even when he’d been partially faded, when his abilities had made him shy away after attacking the Huntsman in his building that day, she had been able to see him.

  To look him in the eye and feel him.

  It had been like magic.

  Like finding a home port when he’d been lost at sea for far too long. Even his adoptive mother, who had claimed to love him, had been unable to lay eyes on him when his magic had demanded otherwise. It wasn’t as if he’d been fully using his ability. If they had really wanted to, they could have seen past the shield of his glamour.

  But they hadn’t.

  Only Phaedra had ever been able to do so, and she’d pulled it off without even trying. As if she’d been searching for him long before they first laid eyes on one another. He’d seen many things in his life, both strange and wondrous, but Phaedra Conners was by far his favorite.

  Shame that he’d had to go and get kidnapped.

  He hoped she’d found his final farewell dashing.

  Heroic.

  When she wept over the memory of him, years from now as some old decrepit human, he hoped that their parting was cast in the soft glow of nostalgia. That to her age-addled mind, he appeared a golden Adonis or majestic Hercules bidding her the type of farewell best suited to star-crossed lovers.

  Yes, he liked the thought of her being heartbroken and lovesick very much.

  Not that he was going to continue to enjoy the company of Agent Liam.

  He’d gotten what he’d come for after all.

  Information.

  Information about what the government wanted from his kind and whether or not his second in command and foster brother could truly be trusted.

  Oh yes, he’d gotten all the information he could stomach on that front.

  But even though he planned on leaving soon, and taking his Pack with him, that didn’t mean that he’d be seeing Phaedra again. It was why he was currently doing his best to kill their bond. She had been right. It was time to stop running. To fight. If he didn’t he’d spend the rest of his considerable lifespan hiding from the Fae. But standing up to the Mad Sidhe wouldn’t be easy.

  He liked many things about Phaedra, the first and foremost being that she was alive.

  If he could help it, he’d like to keep her that way. And staying with him, fighting his battles, would pretty much guarantee the opposite.

  But he really, really wanted to see her again.

  He whined, a low, sad sound in the back of his throat, and huddled against the walls of his prison. The collar at his neck dug deep and he had to fight away the urge to snarl and tear at his own skin in a bid to get the damn thing off.

  No.

  He had to stay calm.

  Captivity could breed madness, and Gabriel couldn’t afford to lose control.

  When he lost control things died, and he’d had his fill of screaming when he’d worked for the Sidhe. Though when he thought of Agent Liam, of Marcus, he couldn’t help but believe that adding a few more bloody notches to his belt couldn’t hurt. Just for old time’s sake.

  Suddenly, he straightened in his shackles, eyes going to the ceiling and head cocking curiously to one side. It was faint at first, but there was no mistaking that sound.

  Alarms. And beyond that? Howling.

  One voice in particular rose up above the rest, and in his pleasure Gabriel found himself laughing out loud.

  “Leo Valentine,” he whispered hoarsely into the dark confines of his cell. “You old bastard. What took you so long?”

 

  “He was right, the woods are lovely. Dark. Deep. But I’m all out of promises. I have nothing left to keep.”

  —Ruthy Jennings

  Chapter Twenty