Over the past few days I’d not only readied the cage, the darts, the gun, I’d also readied a second perfect cypress nearby. Tall, with acres of moss, I’d placed a portable tree stand about twenty feet off the ground.
I tied my rifle to the rope I’d strung over a branch. Using the heavy-duty nails I’d pounded into the tree, I climbed to the flat metal stand. After allowing my gaze to wander over the area, I hoisted my gun upward by way of the rope pulley, secured the safety strap around my waist—more fatal hunting accidents occur when hunters tumble out of their trees because they fall asleep, have a heart attack, or are just plain stupid than when they are actually shot—and settled in to wait.
The sounds of the swamp surrounded me. I’d thought the place loud when I was inside the mansion? I hadn’t met loud yet.
Birds, insects, alligators, nutrias, out there somewhere I could have sworn I heard a pig squeal. A farm animal gone wild? Or were there wild boars in the depths? I probably shouldn’t have been wandering around as much as I had been without a gun.
My gaze was caught by shifting swamp grass beneath an ebbing moon. Not the wind. Something was coming.
Slowly I raised the gun. I don’t know what I expected, but when the wolf stepped from the swamp into the clearing, lifting his nose and sniffing, I had to bite my lip to keep from making a sound.
His fur shone in the sliver of moonlight, glinting black, then blue, then black again. I’d been right to gauge the dosage for an Alaskan timber wolf. This thing might even be larger than that.
The animal paid no attention to the steak. Instead he trotted around and around the open area as if he knew something was there but couldn’t find it.
I wasn’t surprised; I didn’t even consider it magic to have the wolf from my dream materialize. I’d seen a black tail. I knew what a wolf looked like. Put one and one together and I got two, even in my sleep.
But how was I supposed to determine if this was a real wolf or a werewolf?
Though the form may be that of a wolf, a werewolf always retains its human eyes.
I squinted against the night, against the distance, as the wolf circled away from me again, but I couldn’t see his eyes, let alone determine if they were human.
Suddenly he stopped, stiffened, and stared right at me. I hadn’t made a movement, not a sound. What had caused him to sense I was there? Wolves did not peer into trees for their prey.
I lifted the gun to my shoulder. He didn’t care. He charged across the clearing as if he planned to climb up the trunk, snarling as if he would tear me apart once he got there. Why wasn’t he afraid of the rifle? He couldn’t know that I didn’t have silver bullets. Right now that seemed like a big mistake.
I forced myself to remain steady, to be patient, to aim. I didn’t think a wolf could clamber this high, but I wasn’t taking any chances. Right before I squeezed the trigger, I saw his eyes, and I had no qualms about shooting. I couldn’t determine a color, but I did see the whites.
Real wolves didn’t have any.
The dart struck him in the chest. He yelped, leaped. My heart did, too. The thing had a damn nice vertical extension. If he hadn’t been shot, he might have cleared the lowest branch of my tree, about a yard below my feet. Not that he could have done much damage hanging there, but the ability startled me. What else could he do?
The wolf fell to the earth, staggered, toppled, and went still. The silence following so much sound seemed deafening. I needed to drag the beast into the cage, then call Frank. Lucky for me, the animal had dropped over right in front of the enclosure. I wasn’t sure how far I’d be able to move deadweight that approximated my own.
Once on the ground, I wasted no time. Though I didn’t want to, I leaned my weapon against the tree. I couldn’t do much with one hand.
The grass was damp, so when I tugged on his rear legs, the beast slid. After much grunting and groaning, I had him in the cage. Straightening, I allowed myself to smile. I’d done it.
Like a dog dreaming of a rabbit the wolf’s legs twitched, and my smile froze. He lay between me and the door. I leaped over his inert body, skidding on the grass and falling on my ass. Stunned, I didn’t immediately move. Until I heard a low, rumbling growl.
I rolled onto my feet in a single movement, which was pretty darned athletic if I do say so myself. Terror will do that to a woman. I dived for the open door as the wolf slowly sat up, shaking his head as if he were coming out of deep water. The dart hadn’t worked very well. Of course it had been fashioned for a 120-pound animal. This one weighed quite a bit more than that. I guess I should count myself lucky he’d fallen over at all.
The door clanged and I turned the key, then yanked it out of the lock and backpedaled as quickly as I could. Slipping again, I fell to my knees. Could I be any more of a klutz?
I’d specifically requested a lock and key on the cage. A wolf couldn’t undo a catch, but a person could. And if this animal was what I thought it was, he’d have opposable thumbs by morning, if not before.
A body slammed into the bars. Snarling and slavering commenced. Still on my hands and knees, I looked up and my whole world shifted.
The wolf was exactly like the one in my dream. Huge and black, he also possessed the eyes of Adam Ruelle.
Chapter 35
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”
I couldn’t stop muttering, couldn’t stop staring. How could this be? I’d touched Adam with silver. He hadn’t minded.
The thing in the cage appeared mad, throwing his body against the metal, trying to chew a way out. Blood marred the white spittle dripping from his snout. Maybe the wolf was rabid after all.
“That’s not a wolf,” I whispered.
I shoved the key into my pocket, and my fingertips brushed the gris-gris. The animal howled as if in pain and began to change. The transformation was something from a horror film; at first my mind refused to accept what my eyes couldn’t help but see.
The sleek, dark fur receded, becoming shorter and shorter as if it were being sucked through the skin. Paws became feet at the ends of legs and hands at the ends of arms. The claws evaporated the same way the fur had. The neck twisted; the spine lengthened; the animal moaned. Going from quadrapedal to bipedal couldn’t feel good.
His snout shortened, dividing into nose and mouth as the canine teeth shrank. The tail disappeared with a thick, wet thunk. The eyes remained the same. Inside the cage stood a naked Adam Ruelle.
He didn’t appear upset to be revealed a monster. Didn’t seem to care he was in his altogether for the world to see. In fact, he seemed to like it, or maybe, if the size of his erection was any indication, he liked me.
What he didn’t like was the cage. He slammed both hands against the bars and growled, “Let me out.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t speak.
“Goddammit, bitch, set me free!”
That didn’t sound like Adam. Of course, what did I know? I’d believed him when he said he wasn’t the loup-garou.
He tilted his head to stare at the crescent moon. “How did you do it?”
“D-do what?”
“Make me shift.”
Staring into his eyes, I was reminded of Lazarus—cold-blooded and empty of emotion. This man would kill without flinching and forget about it before the blood dried on the ground.
The Adam I knew wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy, but he wasn’t evil. Or maybe I’d just been too busy getting my brains screwed out to notice.
My hand ached from clutching the gris-gris. I glanced down, opened my fingers, and understood. I’d been unable to see the truth until magic cleared my eyes.
“I run as a wolf under the crescent moon. I have no choice.”
I lifted my gaze. “The curse.”
“Oui. But I become a man when I choose, or when the sun comes.” He swept a hand down his body. “This was not my choice.”
I brushed my thumb along the gris-gris. I had asked for the truth.
“Why you lock me up like this?” he ask
ed. “You know I come to you in the night. I like to hear you scream when I fuck you. You didn’t have to put me in a cage.”
I’d been sleeping with a monster. I’d believed myself in love with him, had begun to imagine a life together. I was a fool.
“Let me go, and I’ll do you right here.”
He took himself in his hand and pumped. His moan was more of a growl and marched along my skin like biting red ants.
“I’ve been imagining such things, Diana. You, me, this way and that. You ever want to mate with a beast?”
My eyes widened. I couldn’t speak. Adam seemed like a completely different man. Was he possessed by Satan under the crescent moon? Apparently.
“I’ll shift again. It’ll be doggie style like you never had before. And if you make me howl, I won’t even kill you tonight.”
I took a step back and he smiled. Were his teeth growing longer along with his—?
I yanked my gaze away, but not before he saw my unease and smirked.
“With the flower I marked you as mine.”
Adam had taken the fire irises away from me, thrown them into the swamp, told me not to pick them again. Was he schizophrenic? That would make a certain kind of sense. I’d read all of Simon’s research into lycanthropy. Many psychiatrists and other physicians believed the historical reports of werewolves stemmed from the behavior of the insane. Back then mental illness was labeled possession.
I stared at Adam, locked in a cage. I could understand the theory.
“I watched you whenever I could. The others knew you were mine to keep or kill.”
I guess I hadn’t been crazy when I’d heard more than one wolf in the swamp, seen slinky shadows in town. History often repeated itself, and one of its great lessons is that evil loves to beget evil.
“I wanted to be inside you that first night,” he continued, “but the crescent moon called. I had to make do with a few touches.”
No wonder I’d had such an erotic dream at the hotel on Bourbon Street. My skin went clammy at that memory and several others.
“Set me free. I’ll get out sooner or later. But if it’s later, you’ll pay. I will do things you never imagined. I will keep you alive forever. You will beg to die, Diana, and I will never let you go.”
I wasn’t stupid. If I let him out now, obsession or no, he’d kill me.
I rubbed my thumb over the outline of the key in my pocket. If I had my way, he would never see freedom again.
“I have to get back to the boy,” he whispered. “He expects me come morning.”
Black dots danced in front of my eyes. Luc. How could I have forgotten?
I couldn’t connect the man who’d so tenderly held his son, who had refused to allow me near him lest the boy be hurt when I left, with the one who spoke so calmly of both killing and fucking me.
Definitely possessed by Satan.
Without another word, I walked away. Adam’s voice followed me down the trail. “What the hell? You think you can leave me here?”
“Just did.”
“I will kill you!”
“Redundant.”
“I will tear out your guts and strangle you with them. I will drink your blood; I will bathe in it.”
“Original.”
And pretty scary. Nevertheless, I had to get to Luc and take him away.
I ran all the way to the mansion, grabbed my stuff, and tossed everything into the trunk except the dart gun, Cassandra’s knife, and my cell phone. Those I placed on the front seat. I stared at Adam’s pistol for a second, then realized he wouldn’t have helped me out by loading it with silver, and left the thing in the trunk. Around my waist I secured a fanny pack with my money and travel documents.
As I climbed behind the wheel, a howl rose toward the descending moon. Uneasy, I glanced at the swaying swamp. That had sounded close.
I floored the accelerator, spewing grass and dirt until I fishtailed onto the highway. Then I used one hand to dial frank. Since it was the middle of the night, I wasn’t surprised when his machine answered.
“Your loup-garou is confined in a cage in the swamp about a mile east of the Ruelle Mansion. If you have a problem finding him, call Detective Conner Sullivan and have him take you to the place where Charlie died.” I hung up. “The first time.”
I didn’t consider where I was going, what I was doing, or how I would hide from Adam for the next fifty years. I focused all my attention on getting to Luc and getting him gone.
The moon was nearly down; the sun would soon be up. I parked in front of Adam’s trailer. I’d walked halfway to the door before I went back and grabbed the knife. I tucked the weapon into the pack at my waist.
A few seconds later, hand poised to knock, mind occupied constructing a stupendous lie for Sadie, the babysitter, I hesitated, then tried the doorknob. The door swung inward without a sound.
After glancing over one shoulder, then the other, I scampered inside. I’d been bent on doing anything it took to get to the child and then kidnap him, but strolling into a house uninvited made me uncomfortable.
I crept down the hall. In the first room, Sadie slept. I pulled the door shut and moved on to the room illuminated by a night-light. A gaggle of boy toys—a football, a bat, a deck of cards that appeared to have been the victim of fifty-two pickup—were strewn across the floor, as well as several dirty T-shirts and a dozen smelly socks.
Luc lay on top of the covers, arms and legs flung apart with wild abandon. I let out the breath I’d been holding in a rush and Luc’s eyes snapped open. He must have been a real treat to get down for a nap as a baby.
I put my finger to my lips, and he grinned as I hurried across the floor to kneel at his side. Before I could speak, he flung his arms around my neck and hugged me. What I wouldn’t give to be able to trust like that. After this, I probably never would.
“We’re going on a trip,” I whispered. “Do you have a suitcase?”
“You and me and Daddy?” he whispered back.
“Just you and me.”
“Is that okay with Daddy?”
“No,” said a familiar voice from the door.
Chapter 36
Adam leaned against the wall just inside the room. He wore jeans, a sleeveless shirt, tennis shoes. His bracelet gleamed dully in the half-light from the hall. Now that I thought about it, he hadn’t had that bracelet on in the cage. Then again, something like that could fall right off your paw.
“How did you get out?”
Confusion flickered over his face. “Out?”
I cast a glance at Luc, who looked back and forth between us. I needed to get Adam away from the boy, especially since I might have to kill him.
“Let’s discuss this outside.”
He gave Luc a stern glare. “Stay here.”
Adam headed for the front of the house, and I followed, fingers surreptitiously unzipping the compartment that held the silver knife.
Outside, the night was completely dark. The moon was gone; the sun wasn’t yet up. I pulled out the weapon, tightening my fingers around the hilt. “I’m taking Luc.”
Adam faced me, saw the knife, and laughed. “Didn’t we do this already? I’m not a werewolf.”
He was so different from the man I’d left in the swamp. Sure he looked and sounded the same, but the snakelike coldness had left his gaze and the nasty smirk no longer twisted his mouth. When he spoke he didn’t say evil, hurtful things. At least not yet.
“I saw you change,” I said.
Something flickered in his eyes. “When?”
He didn’t deny it, and even while I’d seen the truth, believed it, too, somewhere inside I must have been hoping for a miracle. “You don’t remember?”
“Just tell me when and where.”
“About an hour ago. Where Charlie died. I left you in a cage.”
He cursed.
“How did you get out?” I repeated.
He ignored my question, clenching and unclenching his fists.
“I’m not
going to let you hurt Luc.”
Fury spread across his face, and quick as a forked tongue, his hand shot out and grabbed the knife by the blade, taking it away with an ease and quickness that was mind-boggling. He flipped the weapon end over end and it stuck in a fence that separated the trailer park from a used-car lot.
I fought the urge to run. “I’m not leaving without him.”
“You aren’t leaving with him, either. He’s my son.”
“You lied to me.”
“I lie all the time, cher. Anymore I wonder if I even know what’s a lie and what isn’t.”
“You said you weren’t the loup-garou.”
He sighed. “I’m not.”
“And I should believe an admitted pathological liar?”
“Believe what you want.”
Maybe the loup-garou wasn’t harmed by silver. Maybe all the tests I’d run on Adam had been a waste of time. Hell, maybe he could slip through bars, or at the least bend them with his superhuman strength.
Adam started for the trailer.
“Where are you going?”
“To tell Sadie I’ll be back in an hour. I have to go into the swamp.”
“What? Why?”
He ignored me, disappearing inside for a few moments before coming out again, then grabbing me by the arm. “You’re going with me.”
“I don’t think so.”
He could easily strangle the life out of me and toss me into the swamp as alligator bait. I was starting to think he’d done it before.
His grip tightened. “I leave you here and you disappear with Luc. I don’t have time to search for you. I can’t leave New Orleans until the new moon comes.”
I was so surprised he’d admitted that, I allowed him to shove me into the passenger seat of my car, where I promptly got a dart gun up the ass. I moved the paraphernalia out of the way as he skirted the front fender, then got behind the wheel.
His gaze flicked over the gun. “So that’s how you did it.”
I didn’t bother to answer.
He picked up the weapon, checked the ammo, found it empty, and tossed the thing into the backseat.
Crescent Moon Page 21
