“We've assigned a unit to your neighborhood for the night, though we don’t expect him to make an appearance.”
“Thank you,” my dad replied, grateful for the extra protection. He bid the officer a good night before shutting the door and locking it with a firm twist of his wrist.
Turning my attention back to the television, the in-studio reporter asked, “Is there any reason why Avery Harris would have been targeting a student? This girl in particular?”
“Alice, we reached out to the Pierce family, but they declined to comment. However, we have learned that it was the victim's boyfriend who pointed police in Avery Harris' direction.”
“He's not my boyfriend!” I scowled at the woman on the T.V. Almost instantly, my phone buzzed in my pocket. The screen read:
Incoming Call
HARLOW
I answered it hastily. “Harlow? Did you see the news?” I whispered, getting up from the couch and relocating to the kitchen so my dad was out of earshot.
“That's why I was calling,” Harlow replied. “Are you okay?”
I sighed, but couldn’t hide the slight tremble in my voice. “I'm fine. How could this have happened? They just let him go...”
“There's no proof. That's the other reason I was calling—” Harlow paused. “You're sure you don't have anything you can use to prove his guilt? Your cell phone? You said he took it.”
“He did. I told the police about that too. They tried calling it, but my guess is Harris smashed it into pieces and dumped it somewhere.” I wracked my brain for any possible evidence but came up with nothing. Harris must have done one hell of a job covering his tracks—which did not surprise me.
For now, Harris was free and there was nothing either of us could do about it. What mattered now was keeping the necklace hidden. My safety wasn't so much at stake anymore, but the pack's and Sloan’s still was. “You have to get out of there!” I urged, trying desperately to keep my voice down. “The police put a watch on my neighborhood,” I told him. “If you come here, you'll be safe!”
“You know there are about a million reasons why I can't do that,” he disagreed. “I'm not going to abandon my pack and run from this.”
“Harlow, what is this?” He still hadn't told me what ‘a fate worse than death’ meant for the pack.
Ignoring the question, Harlow continued, “The police will be on high alert tonight. I'm going to wait until tomorrow to bury the necklace. Get some rest.”
“You said earlier that we were going to bury the necklace together,” I reminded him pointedly—though I was still hesitant about burying it at all.
Harlow didn't say anything for a long moment. “This is your out, Rayna, and you're going to take it.”
“No!' I objected, my voice wavering.
“Rayna, are you all right?” my dad called from the other room.
Pulling the phone away from my ear, I answered, “Yeah, fine!” When I returned my attention to the phone call, the line was dead. He’d hung up on me. I redialed Harlow’s number twice, but both calls went straight to voicemail. This was not over by any means.
I pretended to go to bed, waiting until I was sure everyone else was asleep before slipping on a pair of jeans and an oversized t-shirt. I padded downstairs, ready to make my escape out the back door while the police were busy patrolling the front. I had to be fast.
After slipping out the back door, I jogged around to the side of the house to grab my bike. There wasn't much snow on the ground so it seemed manageable if I wanted to make it to Harlow's house sometime tonight. Once I cleared the backyard, I forced my old bike over the uneven terrain. As I got closer to his house, I hopped off the bike, pushing it the rest of the way, ultimately abandoning it at the edge of the yard. Breaking into a run, I headed for the back door. I didn't care if any of them were sleeping. I pounded my fist against the glass until the kitchen light flipped on and Harlow strode over, yanking the back door open.
His expression fell somewhere between surprised and panicked. “Rayna, you shouldn’t be here! Let me take you home,” he offered, stepping one foot out the door.
“No!” I objected, pushing past him and inviting myself inside. “I'm not looking for an out,” I argued. “I'm in. I'm all in.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he stared at me with a sense of wonder. Reaching out he tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “What are you doing to me, Rayna Pierce?”
“Tell me what you know about Harris’ revenge against the pack,” I whispered, pleading with him. He opened his mouth to protest, but I stopped him. “I’m not going anywhere. I want to stay here,” I paused, searching his eyes, “with you.”
Reluctantly, Harlow led me upstairs. We padded down to a room at the end of the dark hallway. The door was closed, but someone was in there because light seeped out from under the door. Harlow turned the knob and stepped into the room.
Ivy, Nick, Dean, and Blake—who were all scattered around the room—looked up from the books in each of their hands as we entered.
The room was either an office or a library. A massive, wooden bookshelf stretched around the room in an L-shape; packed with books from top to bottom. A small desk, piled with more books, and swivel chair—where Ivy currently resided—sat in front of the window at the head of the room, overlooking the front yard. And several boxes—some half full of books—were randomly placed around the room.
“What the hell is she doing here?” Blake complained as soon as he caught sight of me.
I offered him a wicked smirk in return.
“Rayna shouldn't you be,” Ivy paused for a beat to look me over, “at home?” she asked as if I were lost.
I looked at Harlow. “Can I talk to you for a second?” I asked, stepping out of the room. Once Harlow had secured the door to the study I said, “What's going on in there? I just want to know whatever it is you're not telling me. Not whatever this is,” I whispered sharply, gesturing back and forth between myself and the closed door.
“I've told you everything, Rayna.”
Folding my arms in front of my chest I challenged him with, “Then why don't I believe you?”
Harlow let out an annoyed sigh. “Well believe it,” he countered. “That's why I brought you up here. We're not in the middle of a book club meeting, Rayna; we're poring over every journal, history book, spell book, you name it looking for anything that might lead us to what the Venators are planning. If you don't want to stay, I can take you home right now.”
“Sorry,” I apologized, feeling guilty for even making the accusation in the first place, “of course I'll stay and help however I can.”
Following Harlow back into the room, he directed me to pick a book from the shelf and call out if I found anything about the necklace or witches dagger.
“Be thorough,” Ivy insisted. “Read every page twice if you have to. If you don't find anything, throw the book in a box. If you do we'll make note of it and add it to the pile on the desk. Got it?”
“Got it,” I confirmed as Harlow handed me an old, black journal. By the time I made it through a fourth book, my eyes were heavy with the desire of some much-needed sleep.
“Tired?” Harlow asked, meeting me at the bookshelf.
I tried to withhold a yawn when I replied. “Is it that obvious?” I asked, feeling a little self-conscious.
“Hey, listen, if you need to take a break—”
“No,” I said, cutting him off as I scanned the rows of books for a spine that looked promising. “I won't be able to fall asleep until we know what the Venators are planning.” I took an untitled, navy, hardcover book from the shelf and carried it over to the place on the floor where I'd been sitting. I opened the book to find the first page blank. The second page was also blank. The third and forth too. I fanned through the pages to find that the journal had not been written in at all and got up to put it in one of the boxes of read books.
“You couldn't have gone through that whole journal that fast,” Ivy commented
with a hint of disapproval from across the room.
“There's nothing in here,” I explained. “Every page is blank.”
Her eyes narrowed in disbelief and she crossed the room toward me. “Give me that!” Ivy demanded, snatching the book from my grasp to examine it for herself.
“Ivy, what are you thinking?” Harlow asked from behind her.
“I'm thinking this book isn't blank,” Ivy said with the knowledge of something and we all filed down the stairs after her.
“You all need to back up,” Ivy ordered us, shooing us away from where she stood in front of the kitchen sink. As we all convened around the table and bar stools, Ivy began filling the sink with water. “Now I can't promise this will work, but we're about to find out,” she said, picking up the book and relocating to the kitchen island. Exhaling a long breath, Ivy held her hands high above the book. She began to chant with such ferocity that a trickle of blood ran from her nose. The electricity in the kitchen flickered a few times before going out altogether and I half expected Blake to make some kind of snide remark about it.
All of a sudden, the book wrenched itself open, flipping through pages until it stopped on one. When the lights came back on, I was disappointed to see the book had opened to yet another blank page.
Ivy didn't seem the least bit concerned. She picked up the book and carried it over to the sink full of water.
“What are you doing?” Nick seriously wanted to know.
She peered over her shoulder at him. “Just trust me, okay?” Ivy took the opened book and submerged it in the sink water.
“Hey, what the hell, Ivy?” Blake shouted, shooting up from his seat at the table.
Ignoring him, Ivy continued to concentrate on whatever she was doing to the book in the sink. Moments later she lifted the book from the water and set it on the counter in front of me, Harlow, and, Nick. The book was completely dry and black ink filled the pages, only the words were not in English.
“You're brilliant, Ivy!” Nick commended her, still baffled by the whole thing.
“It's safe to say the witches dagger wasn't the only thing stolen from your house that night,” Ivy told Nick and Harlow.
“Why not just take the pages?” Dean wondered aloud.
“Too obvious,” Ivy replied. “Whoever did this assumed that if we found a blank book we'd think it was just that, a blank book, and move on.”
“So what does it say?” Harlow pressed.
Ivy turned the book toward herself. “Well, it's obviously a spell,” she began to explain. She read over the page to herself before looking up at Harlow. They had shared enough silent exchanges since I'd known them for me to recognize when Ivy was about to say something she wasn't sure Harlow would want me to hear.
“Whatever it says, Ivy, I want to know,” I spoke up before Harlow had the chance to escort me from the kitchen.
Ivy and Harlow shared another glance.
“Stop doing that!” I objected. “I'm telling you I want to know what it says.”
“Rayna,” Ivy began, her voice calm yet direct, “I just think it might be better if you heard what this says from Harlow,” she paused, “in private.”
Fear washed over me at her words, but I tried not to let on that she had scared me. “And I'm going to assume you agree,” I accused, my eyes flicking to Harlow's face.
“Jesus, Rayna!” Nick chided. “Whatever that page says doesn't concern you. Just go upstairs. Now!
“First door on the left,” Harlow said, keeping his voice down.
Releasing a heavy breath, I turned on my heel and headed for the stairs.
Pushing open the first door on the left, I fumbled for the light switch on the wall opposite the door before flipping it on. A queen size bed sat in the middle of the space covered in navy sheets. A dresser sat diagonally in one corner of the room, while a black desk—piled with books and newspapers—was positioned against the wall near the window. I hadn't expected his room to feel so bare. With nothing else to do, I padded across the room, sat on the edge of Harlow's bed and waited.
At least twenty minutes had passed before Harlow finally entered his room, securing the door behind him. I rose from the bed as soon as he entered. “Tell me,” I pleaded. Harlow looked at me for a moment, but said nothing and proceeded to stare at the floor, lost in thought. I took another cautious step toward him and he met me the rest of the way, taking my hand and leading me over to the bed.
“Sit,” he instructed and when I did, he followed suit, his head hung low.
I leaned forward, trying to see his face. “Harlow?”
Another beat passed before he slowly lifted his head. “Sorry,” he apologized, “I'm still just trying to wrap my head around it,” he paused. “There's no easy way to say this...”
“I don't need a filtered version of the truth, Harlow.”
“When the spell is enacted—”
“If,” I corrected him swiftly.
“It's practically a torture device. If the spell is enacted the entire pack will suffer,” Harlow paused, “literally suffer.”
“Suffer how?” I pressed, my stomach going uneasy.
“The spell is a product of dark magic. If enacted, it would idle our ability to shift at all. So when the time comes for the werewolf curse to force the shift on each of us, we physically won't be able to comply, subjecting us to the pain of the pre-transition on repeat.”
I pressed my hand to my mouth, horrified at the thought of their suffering. “I know it's not my place,” I began, touching his arm, “but are you sure burying the necklace is a good idea?”
A small unfunny laugh escaped Harlow as he rose to his feet and crossed the room. Flipping off the light, he came around to the side of the bed where I sat and I thought he was going to sit beside me again. Instead, he pulled back the covers. “Sleep,” Harlow insisted.
It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the dark. When our eyes did meet, my stomach felt full to the brim with butterflies.
Harlow crawled in on the other side of the bed and lay on his back next to me.
I rolled onto my side to face him. “Are you going to answer my question?” I tried again. “I want to know why you think this is the right call.”
“It's the only card we have to play if we want Sloan back. And our only shot at taking down Harris and the Venators before someone casts that spell.”
“How does burying the necklace help get Sloan back? I don’t see the connection. It seems to me it’d be safer if we kept it with us, protected by Ivy’s magic. Or I don’t know,” I paused, “me.”
Harlow turned onto his side so that we were face to face and leaned in for a kiss. I reluctantly caved since I knew he was just trying to distract me—it almost worked.
Pulling away, I propped myself up on my elbows. Staring down at him beside me I asked, “Why do I get the feeling there’s something you're not telling me?” I pressed. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was going on, and I was going to be the last to know...again.
“Harris isn't killing anyone if that's what you're thinking,” Harlow interrupted, sitting up. “And even though you think the necklace is safer with us, I cannot continue to put you in harm’s way. Keeping the necklace away from you keeps Harris away from you. That’s the most important thing to me right now.”
It was hard not to notice how calm he seemed about the whole thing. Reaching over, I touched his face. “Okay, Harlow. I trust you. I'm going with you to bury the necklace as we planned. If you think that’s what it will take to end this, then I'm in.”
Harlow sighed and I expected him to argue the matter. Instead, he brought my hand to his lips, planting a soft kiss on my palm.
And in an instant, I didn’t feel so scared. With Harlow, anything felt possible. Together, we would take down Harris and all his evil Venators. We had to.
chapter nineteen
I STIRRED AT THE SOUND OF A SOFT MELODY NEARBY. Pushing myself upright, the sun's bright morning rays blinded me as t
hey stretched across Harlow's bedroom—he was nowhere to be found. Jumping out of bed, I snatched my cell phone off the dresser. It was my mom. Crap! “Hello?” I answered, trying my best not to sound like I'd just woken up.
“Rayna! Thank God!” my mom breathed a sigh of relief on the other end of the phone. “Where are you?”
“Uh...” my eyes darted around Harlow's room as I wracked my brain for an answer. There was a soft knock on the door as Harlow appeared in the doorway with a coffee mug in hand. My eyes widened at it. “I'm at Cafe' Bleu,” I lied swiftly, scratching my scalp. “Sorry, I should have left a note.”
“Why are you out so early?” she pressed.
“I couldn't sleep,” I told her, going with the truth as I accepted the coffee mug from Harlow.
“But you don't have a car...”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “I didn't want to wake anyone by taking Dad's car, so I took my bike.”
“I wish you hadn't gone out alone. I'll have your father pick you up and bring you home. I don't want you out and about, Rayna. Not until this whole mess with Avery Harris has been resolved.”
“I'm not alone, Mom. I'm with a friend,” I told her, hoping she wouldn't ask questions. “And I'm just fine.”
She sighed audibly. “You're with Harlow, aren't you?” she asked with an air of certainty.
“Mom, I'm fine,” I tried to reassure her a second time.
“If you're not home in twenty minutes, I'm sending your father.” The phone went dead on the other end of the line.
“Busted?” Harlow asked, slumping down into his desk chair and swiveling around to face me.
“More or less,” I said, taking a sip of coffee. “She wants me home in twenty minutes or she's sending my dad to pick me up at Cafe' Bleu.”
Harlow cocked an eyebrow at me. “Then we'd better leave now,” he suggested, rising to his feet.
I waved him off as I took another sip. “My bike.”
Iron Moon Page 21
