Arthur, Keri - Beneath a Rising Moon.txt
Page 27
veered left onto Heather Creek Road. Neva paused, trying
to catch her breath as she listened to the sounds of the
night. Beyond the pounding music and happy laughter
coming from the Blue Moon, there was little noise. If the
truck was moving anywhere near, she couldn’t hear it.
She shook off the snow that had settled on her coat
and continued on. She’d head down the road a mile or so,
but if the tracks went on after that, she was going home.
The night was too cold, and her legs were too tired to go
any farther. Besides, Heather Creek Road eventually made
it all the way down to Dillon, and there was no way in
hell she was traveling that distance. Not on foot, anyway.
The glow of lights from Main Street faded, and the
darkness and the snow seemed to close in. Unease
slithered through her. She didn’t know this area all that
well, but knew there were very few people living out this
way. A few ski lodges, a house or two, but that was it. If
she got into trouble, she’d find no help close by.
The thought made her pause. Through the silence,
she heard the sound of an engine—one that seemed to be
stationary rather than moving. Unease prickled down her
spine, raising the hairs along her backbone. The urge to
run away was so great she half-turned. Only the knowledge
that more people might die if she didn’t keep going made
her head forward again.
Lights glimmered ahead. Red taillights, gleaming in
the night like a mad wolf’s eyes.
She shivered and padded forward more cautiously. It
was a blue truck ahead. Iyona’s truck. Halted in the middle
of the road, lights on, engine running. Neva stopped and
sniffed the air. She could smell oil and gas fumes from
the exhaust, but couldn’t pick up Betise’s sharp scent, or
Iyona’s slightly off aroma. There was no sound other than
the idling engine.
And no way in hell she was going closer. It looked like
a trap, and right now, the safest thing she could do was
hightail it out of there. She could always come back later—
in the safety of the car and with Duncan by her side.
She retreated. But she’d barely gone three steps when
the night blurred, and she suddenly found herself under
the snarling weight of a silver wolf.
Fourteen
Duncan’s footsteps echoed as he walked down the
hospital corridor toward Savannah’s room. The young
officer stationed at her door watched him warily, his hair
gleaming carrot red under the harsh lights, and his hand
drifting toward the gun at his side.
Obviously a ranger who was new to Ripple Creek,
otherwise the youngster would have known who he was—
if not by sight then by reputation. Duncan held up his
hands and stopped. “Duncan Sinclair. I wish to talk to
Savannah, if possible.”
The ranger leaned around the doorway to speak to
her. Duncan shook his head. The fool was obviously very
new, because turning your back like that was not a good
idea. Savannah must have said something along those
lines, because when the young ranger looked back, his
face was almost as red as his hair. “You can go in.”
He held back his smile. “Thanks.”
The carrot-topped ranger nodded, his hand still near
the gun and a watchful look in his blue eyes. Duncan
walked into the room. Savannah was sitting up in bed,
her face still swathed in bandages, but overall looking a
whole lot healthier than she had yesterday.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Sinclair?” Her voice held
none of the warmth so evident in Neva’s.
He dragged a chair up to her bed and sat down. “I
believe we might be able to help each other.”
A smile touched her lips. “Oh yeah? You come to
confess?”
“Are you interested in hearing what I have to say, or
are we going to dwell on a past I can do nothing about?”
She studied him for a moment, and he wished he could
see her eyes. He had a feeling that, like Neva’s, they would
be extremely expressive.
“You hurt my sister,” she said in that same flat, no-
nonsense tone, “and I’ll bust your balls from here to
kingdom come.”
He smiled faintly. “Fair enough.”
She nodded. “Then talk.”
He did. She said nothing, listening intently, nodding
every now and again. When he’d finished, she said, “There’s
one problem with the idea that Iyona or Betise or both
might be involved with these murders—”
“The black hairs found at the murder scene?”
“How did you know about them? Neva?”
“Yes.”
“Then she trusts you.”
With knowledge, but certainly not anything else. Yet.
“She came after me at the mansion because even you think
I’m not the murderer.”
“That doesn’t mean the rest of your pack isn’t. Betise
or Iyona might be working with one of them.”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the
plastic bag he’d fished out of the river earlier tonight. “Try
matching this with those hairs you found.” He placed it
into her hands.
She felt through the plastic. “A wig?”
“A black wig. We were following Betise earlier and saw
her throw it into Hunter River. I fished it out.”
“We? You and Neva?”
“Yep. So you’ve got a believable witness as well as me.”
The smile that touched her lips held true warmth and
in many ways reminded him of Neva, which wasn’t all
that strange, considering they were twins.
“A wig doesn’t make her the murderer. It’s a silver
wolf attacking these women, not a golden.”
“But both Betise and Iyona have a better motive than
anyone else. My pack aren’t saints, but none of us are
behind these murders. I’ll guarantee it.”
“Well, a guarantee like that is certainly going to go a
long way in a court of law.” But she said it with a smile,
and he took no offense.
“Has anyone seen Betise’s coat color?” he asked. “If
she is the child of one of the Bitterroot Sinclairs, she might
very well be silver.”
“Possibly.” Savannah’s voice was noncommittal. “I’ll
have this checked out along with the samples we took
tonight. Hopefully, we’ll get an answer.”
“We have something else you might be interested in,
too. Martin took skin and blood samples from under
Betise’s nails the night she was attacked. They’re currently
being analyzed at the forensics lab.”
“Any samples not taken by us under controlled
conditions won’t be accepted as evidence in court.”
“Perhaps. But it may provide a link to the women who
were killed. Once you have that link, you can concentrate
on collecting evidence that is rock-solid.”
“Maybe.” Her voice was noncommittal.
He hesitated, then asked, “Can you remember anything
of your own atta
ck?”
“No. It’s all still a blur.”
“Have you asked Neva?”
She was silent for a long moment, then swore softly.
“I didn’t even think of it.”
At least he wasn’t the only one. He rose and put the
chair back. “She was there with you in spirit.”
“She’s the reason I’m alive,” Savannah said softly. “The
only reason. The wolf was big—very big. And that’s all I
remember.”
“But it may not be all Neva remembers.”
“No.” Savannah paused. “You intending to ask her
yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t try taking the law into your own hands, Sinclair.
Not in my town. And if you find anything, you bring it to
me to deal with.”
“Right.” After he’d found that bastard or bitch behind
this and given him—or her—a beating or two.
“I mean it. Or the threat I made earlier will apply.”
He didn’t reply. Didn’t get the chance to. Neva’s fear
slammed into his mind and, hot on its heels, her pain.
The force of both, one on top of the other, hurled him
back against the wall and left him gasping.
“Neva!” Savannah’s cry sang through the air, through
his mind, and was filled with fear for her sister.
He shook his head, trying to free himself from the haze
of Neva’s pain and terror to reach for her mentally. Nothing.
She was too consumed by whatever was happening to her
to hear him.
He pushed away from the wall and staggered to the
door. He had to find her—fast. The young officer had
rushed in at Savannah’s cry and was near her bed. There
were quick footsteps coming toward the room, and then
nurses came through the doorway. He pushed past them
and thundered down the hall.
You heard? Savannah’s surprised thought cut through
his shields and arrowed into his mind.
Yes.
Oh Moons...does she know?
No. Nor will she, until she is ready to acknowledge it
for herself.
Can you find her? I can’t get any sense from her—I
have no idea where she is.
I can find her. He didn’t need to feel her thoughts for
that. All he had to do was follow his heart.
Do you need help?
No. Because if anyone had hurt her, he’d kill them.
And he didn’t need rangers as witnesses.
Run swiftly.
He didn’t answer. Just ran.
***
It was Savannah’s attack all over again and, for one
second, Neva froze. All she could smell was the other wolf’s
putrid breath, all she could hear was the rumble of its
growl. All she could feel was the drip of saliva against her
face as the gleaming white teeth slashed through the air,
headed toward her throat. She twisted desperately, and
the teeth tore into her foreleg instead. Pain ripped through
her, burning away the fear.
Savannah had beaten this bitch—but only because
she’d siphoned Neva’s abilities at the last moment. There
would be no last moment here. As she’d told Duncan, she
was far from defenseless.
She reached for the fear singing through her veins
and flung it back at the other wolf, smashing through her
foe’s shields and forcing it deep into her mind. A mind
that was crazy with the moon’s heat. Crazy with hate. For
her.
The mad, yellow eyes went wide, then the silver wolf
cowered away, whimpering and shivering. Neva scrambled
upright and ran. With every step blood flew through the
air, glistening with black fire as it splattered across the
pristine snow.
Air stirred, arrowing towards her. Another wolf, coming
from the right. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the
blur of gold rising high as the wolf sprang. She slammed
past this second wolf’s shields, filling her mind with the
terror and hatred she was still feeling from the first wolf.
The golden bitch dropped, trembling and whimpering with
fright. Neva kept on running, though her lungs burned
and the warmth of blood pulsing down her leg became a
tide.
Lights beckoned brightly through the darkness ahead.
She ran onto Main Street but didn’t stop, too fearful that
if she did, those wolves would catch her. She couldn’t
hear them behind her, but that didn’t mean they weren’t.
Warmth and music pulsed through the night, but she
didn’t head for the Blue Moon, even though she would be
safe enough there. There was only one place she wanted
to be right now—and he was close. She could feel him. In
her mind. With her heart.
Neva? Savannah’s thought was as sharp as glass. Are
you okay?
Fine, she lied, not wanting to panic her sister any more
than she already had. I’ll come and talk to you soon.
She saw Duncan a second later—a sleek silver shadow
exploding out of the snow-filled night. She shifted shape
as he shifted shape, and all but fell into the warmth of his
arms.
Trembling, shivering, she wrapped her arms around
him and held on tight. Breathed deep the spicy, foresty
smell of him, letting the sense of warmth and security
and strength he exuded wash over her. Calm her.
The arms that held her so protectively were taut, and
his heart was a rumble of rapid thunder in the ear she
pressed hard against his chest. His anger was a cloud of
red that burned her mind and stung the night, but behind
it was fear. For her. The knowledge made her heart do a
weird little dance.
She didn’t know how long they stood there like that,
holding each other in the middle of Main Street as the
snow danced around them. She didn’t really care, because
she’d never felt so safe in her life. When he eventually
pulled away, he caught her chin, directing her gaze to his.
“Was it Betise and Iyona?”
She nodded. “I doubt that it could have been anyone
else, if only—”
“Tell me about it later,” he cut in. “Right now, you
need to get to the emergency room.” He bent, swinging
her up into his arms.
“I don’t—”
“No arguments.” His voice was almost savage. “That
arm needs stitches.”
She glanced down. The sleeve of her coat was ripped
to shreds, and blood covered her arm and fingers. “It’s
not as bad as it looks.”
“Maybe. But who knows what you can catch from a
bite from a bitch like Betise?”
A smile played across her lips. “A rather nasty thing
to say.” Though as nasty comments went, she was thinking
far worse.
“Right now, I’m feeling particularly nasty.” He glanced
at her. Though his black eyes were as unreadable as ever,
something in his expression made her tremble. “You’re
mine, if only for the rest of this moon phase. No one attacks
anything of mine and gets away with it.”
His words seemed to echo through her, doi
ng strange
things to her pulse rate and her heart. Moons, it would be
so easy to believe he cared. But that was something she
dared not do, because it would be all too easy to fall.
If she hadn’t fallen already.
She closed her eyes. No. It was the moon and the power
of the man himself. Nothing more. She couldn’t fall for a
man like Duncan. He was everything she’d never wanted.
He strode through the night, not saying anything, just
holding her with a tenderness that suggested she was
precious cargo. Tears prickled her closed eyelids. She
wouldn’t think that. Couldn’t think that. It wasn’t safe.
“Safe isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be,” he said
softly. “Safe can be horribly lonely.”
Which she’d discovered over the years, so why was
she holding on to it so tightly? She didn’t know, and that
scared her almost as much as exploring what she might
feel for him. She let her gaze rake the face she knew would
haunt her dreams forever. “How could a relationship
between us ever work?” Especially given her father’s edict?
“You don’t want to come back to Ripple Creek, I don’t
really want to leave. I want a family. You want nothing
more than a good time.”
“All relationships must compromise to survive.”
“But not all relationships are worth the effort. It’s just
the moon that binds us, nothing more. I can’t help what I
feel.”
“You haven’t explored what you feel.” He paused as
the doors to the hospital swished open. “Let’s discuss this
when we’re alone.”
“There’s nothing to discuss.” And there would be no
later. Not for them.
Because of who he was. Because of who she was, and
the way she’d been brought up. She was willing enough
to shake the shackles of her parents’ beliefs and rules,
but she didn’t want them completely out of her life. She
was a wolf, and family was everything. She couldn’t walk
away from her parents—not forever—and if she wanted
Duncan in her life that’s what she would have to do. Her
father had made it clear he’d forgive the moon dance, but
he would not forgive a continuing dalliance with someone
like Duncan.
If it came down to a choice, there really was none. To
keep her family in her life, she had to stick to her original
plan and walk away from him. No matter what she might