Birthright (Pale Moonlight Book 1)

by Marie Johnston

  Armana sighed and stepped out of her car. She’d never allowed herself to live in the past, but tonight was different. Tonight, she faced it.

  Her shirt came off and drifted to the ground. Next she shucked her shoes and pants. Mentally, she calculated the years since she’d last shifted. Almost twenty-five. Not even when she’d squirreled Jace to a rural spot for his first shift had she transitioned. She’d only allowed him to transition once before they went back to town, and she fretted he’d get sniffed out by other shifters. She wouldn’t have done it at all, but raising a teenage boy was tough. The aggression of his genetics created more problems for her.

  Mage had gotten a free pass. Always a mellow kid, she was more compliant after the trauma she’d suffered at the hands of that rapist. Truth was, if Jace hadn’t killed that man, she didn’t know that she wouldn’t have, ripping the man apart while pretending he was Seamus.

  Trading one kid for another was not a decision any parent should have to make. Keeping tabs on him hadn’t been an option. Too risky, too much a threat to Maggie. She hated Seamus all the more for putting her in that position, even as she despised herself more. Jace’s strength and resourcefulness had always been apparent, and she had trusted in those traits to carry him through. They had and now it was time for Armana to return to where it had all began.

  Instinct flooded back. Her senses grew sharper, clearer, and her rage at what happened, long suppressed, was finally allowed to crest. She spun around, like she was chasing her tail. For a second, she felt like she was being watched. Overreaction after years of suppressing her full potential.

  Fangs bared, the image of Seamus and his cruel green eyes in her head, she hunted.

  Chapter Nine

  Maggie’s eyes flew open with a gasp.

  Porter jerked awake, mumbling a sleepy, “What is it?”

  “I saw Ma. I knew everything she was thinking.” She scrambled off the cot to bang on the door.

  “Maggie, it’s the middle of the night. Calm down and tell me what you saw first.”

  Pounding once more, she peered into the camera. “I know where my mom is.

  “At first I thought I was dreaming, but it seemed so real. I could hear her thoughts. I know why we left all those years ago.” Maggie spun toward a bewildered Porter. “Seamus was behind the attack.”

  Understanding dawned in his features, he nodded like it all made perfect sense and it did. It all did.

  She concentrated. Jace!

  Maggie?

  Yes, it worked! I know where Ma is. I mean, I don’t know, but I can find the area.

  How?

  Her excitement died. Would they believe her? Porter seemed to accept it, but he’d believe Seamus was the devil if she told him. I dreamed it.

  Have you dreamed like this before? Jace asked.

  Never.

  Where is she?

  Maggie stalled, slanting a glance at Porter. He waited as if sensing she was mentally communicating. At least she wasn’t broadcasting the conversation like earlier.

  Maggie, where is she? What did it look like?

  She could tell him in intricate detail, but then she’d be left to fret here. I’ll tell you when you pick us up.

  Fuck, Maggie, where is she?

  I don’t know, I only saw it. But Maggie knew where she was going.

  Be right there.

  She turned to a patient Porter. “Jace and Kaitlyn must be out searching the area around here. They’re coming back.”

  “Did you tell him where Armana is?”

  Maggie couldn’t help the wry smile twisting her lips. “I said I’d tell him more when he came and got us.”

  Warmth infused Porter’s eyes. “That’s my girl.”

  Someone entered at the end of the corridor. Maggie bounced up and down waiting. Mercury stopped at the door, holding Porter’s paint-splattered clothing. Maggie’s items were tucked inside.

  He dumped them on the floor, a grumpy expression on his face. From his bone-weary features, his unpleasant disposition wasn’t due to her or Porter. The depth of fatigue she sensed from him originated long before they had arrived. These Guardians fascinated her in a way she couldn’t explain. She wanted to know more about them, but her mother took preference.

  “Get changed. I’ll be right outside the door.”

  “The Guardians and their hospitality.” Porter stooped, picking up the pile. “I’ll turn my back.” He sounded as disgruntled as Mercury looked.

  She’d turn around, too, because a nude Porter was more than distracting, and they were running out of time.

  He pivoted when he heard her tying her shoes. “Ready.”

  “More than.” Anticipation sang through her nerves. It was the same feeling she got when she tracked pervs through the streets and clubs of Freemont.

  There was no going back to her previous way of life. No more novelty store, no more daycare. The last few years, she’d wanted to crawl out of her skin. Now she could because she had an alternate form. She had an ability. She didn’t understand it one iota, but her special shifter skill was dream…something. Scrying? Dream scrying. Yeah, she liked that.

  They exited the corridor. Mercury had been resting against the wall with his eyes closed, but he was already heading down another hallway. Winding through the lodge, they went up a set of stairs and out the front door where her brother and Kaitlyn waited by a black SUV. Another male stood next to them.

  If Maggie thought any of the other Guardians she’d met were imposing, this guy made them seem like puppies. Confidence and power radiated from him. His hazel eyes reflected a predatory gleam in the dark, his ruddy appearance indicated no softness.

  “Maggie,” Jace spoke, “this is my boss, Commander Fitzsimmons. Tell him what you told me, only,” he threw her a warning glance, “tell him everything.”

  Porter grabbed her hand. Grateful for his comfort, she peeked up at him. Calmly he gazed at the commander, wary, but not distrustful. Did she look like that, or did she look like a deer facing an eighteen wheeler?

  On her other side, Mercury rubbed his eyes, uncaring about the situation.

  “Mercury,” the commander’s voice was quiet, packed full of authority, but there was no sign of cruelty, “go home, get some sleep.”

  The male snorted. “Doubt it. As soon as I lay down, the twins’ eyes will pop open.” He trudged away.

  “How old?” Maggie murmured. She wasn’t sure they’d trust her with an answer.

  “Newborns.” The commander’s expression softened, as if he found Mercury’s situation humorous, but he felt for the guy.

  Maggie often helped in the baby room. They were cute, they were precious, but they were ruthless, lacked empathy, and would completely destroy a person’s stamina, Guardian or not. She sympathized, too.

  “Tell me what you saw.” Commander Fitzsimmons’ attention turned back to her. It was like Porter wasn’t there, only she doubted the commander missed anything.

  “I dreamed it all.” She prepared for disbelief as she told her story. But like Jace, he readily accepted her tale.

  “Has anything like this happened before?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “And you’ve lived around humans your whole life, shifting only for the first time yesterday?”

  “Yep.” Of course, he’d been advised of her circumstances.

  “You’re a dream walker, only your target doesn’t need to be asleep the same time as you. It’s rare.”

  Jace inspected her like a bug in a jar. Great. She reclaimed her shifter-hood and she turned out to be an oddity. “Dream walking is rare, or me peeking in on thoughts of totally conscious people?”

  “Both, but the latter is extremely rare.” He directed his attention to Jace. “You’ll need to head out right away. Bring Chayton. Kaitlyn, head to Armana’s house and look for evidence of Seamus or any other intrusion.”

  A sharp inhale escaped Kaitlyn, but she remained quiet. Maggie wondered if it was an i
nsult to switch partners.

  Jace rounded the SUV to get into the driver’s seat. Maggie stepped forward so abruptly, she yanked Porter along, still clutching his hand. “I want to go.”

  “We both do,” Porter added.

  “I don’t think so,” an unfamiliar voice said behind her.

  She whipped around to a tall, lanky male exiting the lodge. He wore arrogance like a badge. His hair was ink black and hung in a long braid down his back, his eyes the color of rich coffee, and his stature compared to the burly shifters around her was slender, but he’d still outmuscle a human. From the displeasure emanating from Kaitlyn, she determined this male to be Chayton.

  He breezed past her and Porter, ignoring their presence, and climbed into the passenger side. No, he wasn’t discounting them, he was too busy glowering at Kaitlyn, who actively pretended he didn’t exist.

  He wasn’t in charge, so Maggie couldn’t care less about his opinion. “Commander,” she beseeched, “I need to look for my mother.”

  Something in her tone stopped the commander. She held her breath as he considered her request. Jace had already hopped into the vehicle, confident she’d be denied. Chayton’s window lowered, both males waiting for the commander’s answer.

  Commander Fitzsimmons’ eyes narrowed on her and he inhaled deeply. Released it, inhaled again, exhaling through his mouth.

  “Go ahead, but listen to Jace. He’s taking lead.”

  Jace and Chayton were both arguing when the commander cut them a look that ceased all talk. Kaitlyn smirked at the pissed off male in the passenger seat.

  Maggie ran to dive into the backseat, Porter right behind her.

  ***

  After hours of driving to reach the outskirts of Lobo Springs and canvassing the area to find where Maggie saw Armana hide the car, they finally located the abandoned vehicle in late afternoon. To Porter, it was several hours too late. He was starving for Maggie, sitting that close to her and not being able to touch her confused his cock, especially after abstaining from her body’s paradise during the night. With two other males in the vehicle, one being her brother, trying to ignore his discomfort should’ve been easy…if it wasn’t for his mate just inches away.

  Then there was Chayton’s bitching. And his nickname for Porter.

  “I’ll stay with Maggie; you go with Chayton.” Jace motioned in an arc encompassing the woods around them. “We’ll spread out, following each side of my mother’s trail. Stay downwind, don’t try to contact her. If she’s in a tight spot, I don’t want to startle her. If Seamus has her, I don’t want him to sense we’re near.”

  Maggie vibrated with energy next to Porter. He hated parting with her, especially this close to Seamus, but like Chayton had pointed out on their ride—several times—he wasn’t armed. Having her go with Jace stirred a less homicidal rage than imagining her at the mercy of an asshole like Chayton. He didn’t doubt she could handle herself, it was the principle that she shouldn’t have to.

  Before they began, Jace circled to the back of the SUV and opened up the hatch.

  Chayton shook his head in disbelief. “Seriously. These guys are going to get us shot.”

  Jace ignored him like he’d been doing the entire ride and pulled out two handguns. He checked them out, ensured they had full magazines and handed one over to Porter. “Know how to use one?”

  It’d been awhile, but he did. His dad had made sure he could shoot, use knives, whatever was needed to defend himself and his people. Porter secured it in his waistband, the solid metal settling against his back. He’d rather use his hands to build, not destroy, but to protect Maggie and his colony…

  Jace was giving Maggie a quick rundown in gun use and safety when Chayton swatted his shoulder. “Let’s go, Lumberjack.”

  Porter rolled his eyes toward the infuriating male, but he’d already taken off at a swift trot. After checking on Maggie, Porter took off after him.

  Running through the trees was much less challenging on four legs. The heavy work boots Porter wore weren’t made for being fleet of foot. Chayton’s black shitkickers looked wicked thick, but the sole resembled a tennis shoe more than a boot—shitrunners.

  Armana’s scent hung in the air, its shifter element growing stronger. She’d parked several miles away from Lobo Springs, knowing residents dotted the countryside, their small houses hidden among the trees. Only rough dirt trails cut through the woods to each dwelling, their county not affluent enough to build decent roads. Many shifters had preferred it that way, but times were changing and they wanted to adapt with it.

  He strained to hear Maggie and Jace, but picked up nothing. He would expect that from Jace, but for Maggie to be as stealthy was unusual. Perhaps because she was more comfortable on two legs. She’d wanted to shift again, badly. The excitement poured off her, but popping up naked to face Seamus wouldn’t be very effective. With her body, it might be the distraction the Guardians needed to take him down.

  Chayton slowed to a stop, his eyes narrowed, searching through the brush. He held up a hand for Porter to be quiet—like he was being a chatty fucker who tromped around while Chayton concentrated. The guy was a prick.

  Catching his breath, Porter opened his mind up to his surroundings.

  Where had Armana’s scent gone?

  They were only a mile away from the edge of town. With her anger, her desire to destroy Seamus, it should be easy to pick up on her trail.

  “Where the fuck…?” Chayton trailed off. He bent down. Any further, he’d have his nose to the ground like a bloodhound. He squatted down, squinting into the distance. “She’s out for blood. Lumberjack, if you were a bitter mom finally free to exact revenge and terminate the threat to your daughter, where would you go?”

  It was Monday, mid-morning. Porter would be at a job site, already busy. What would Seamus be doing?

  Lots of secretive meetings. Wandering up and down Main Street, stopping in to chat with all the influential shifters who were under his control. Insinuating his power onto those who’d resisted so far.

  “She would stalk him.” Porter pointed to the general areas he was addressing. “He’d be downtown. For lunch, he eats out, planning who he’ll bed at night, then he goes to his office, which is his home.”

  Seamus’ house sat on the highest point in town, so he could monitor everything. The previous owner had lived there his whole life, since before Great Moon was established. He’d been a hermit who’d died of old age, but now, Porter doubted his death was natural.

  “Exciting guy,” Chayton said dryly. “Assuming Armana doesn’t know his schedule, she’ll follow him if she can remain undetected, and from the absence of her scent, I’d say she’s succeeding.”

  “You think she can hide herself at will?”

  “Seen it before,” Chayton slipped into mind speak with Jace, keeping him and Maggie in on the conveyance. Let me guess, you lost her scent?

  You, too? Jace asked.

  She ghosted. Did you know she could do that?

  No, but it explains how she got away from him and remained unfound.

  Lumberjack says he should be heading home about now. My guess is Armana will be lying in wait. She’ll probably assume his thugs are still searching for Maggie. It’d be a good time to strike.

  Jace disappeared from his head, probably to speak to Maggie who was staying out of their heads, unwilling to risk missing the mental mark and notify Seamus they’d arrived.

  Head to his place, Jace ordered. We’ll follow your trail there since we don’t know where his residence is.

  Roger. Chayton ushered Porter ahead of him. “I need you to lead the way, Paul Bunyan.”

  “The thing about nicknames,” Porter mused, “is that once you’re nailed with an awful one, it makes the rest sound good. Stick to Lumberjack.”

  Chayton grinned, revealing even white teeth, his fangs concealed. “When you wear a red plaid flannel shirt, it just inspires so many.”

  He’d retort “chicks dig it,” but Maggie had
n’t exactly fallen all over him. He trudged ahead, thinking how the ordeal of the last two-and-a-half decades was coming to a head and it’d all be over soon.

  She didn’t throw herself at him, but they’d connected, resting in each other’s embrace on his cot. Maggie reconciled with her family, there were no more secrets, and she was going back home. His home. Where she belonged.

  With no sign of Armana, they crept closer to Seamus’ house. The growth around them grew sparser. They stayed low, darting from tree to tree. The thinner the trees got, the riskier it became. Porter took off his red shirt to not be noticed, leaving it at the base of a tree. The incline of the land increased with each step, but they were close, could see it. The large three story structure had been renovated—not by Porter—since Seamus had lived in it. It exuded stately elegance, but failed to hide the filth inside.

  He sensed Maggie before Jace, his body so attuned to her. Glancing back, he caught her eye just before a crash and a male’s shout ripped through the air.

  “Stay here!” Chayton sprinted toward the noise emanating from the inside of Seamus’ house.

  Jace raced past him after ordering Maggie to stay put. She didn’t listen. Porter grabbed her arm as she ran by, but she slipped through.

  He had no choice to but to go after her. Maggie, let them to do their job!

  Ma’s in there.

  Maggie!

  The sounds of struggle grew stronger, snarls of rage permeated the air. At least one of the combatants was a wolf.

  Chayton dived through a first floor window, shattering it on impact. Jace darted around the side, to the front entrance. Maggie skidded to a stop under the window Chayton had plowed through. Grabbing the ledge with both hands, she hauled herself up, glass cutting into her palms.

  “Ma! Stand down,” Jace ordered from inside.

  Muffled snarling—Armana’s teeth must be sunk into one of Seamus’ body parts.

  “Get her off me!”

  Porter took perverse pleasure in the pain in Seamus’ voice.

  Warning shouts from the Guardians didn’t stop the sounds of scraping glass. Porter’s ears formed a picture in his mind of Seamus spinning with a large wolf, trying to shake her loose.