High Moon (A F.R.E.A.K.S. Squad Investigation Book 4)

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High Moon (A F.R.E.A.K.S. Squad Investigation Book 4) Page 11

by Jennifer Harlow


  George reserved us six rooms at the Hampton Inn, one of the nicer chains. I’ve become something of a hotel connoisseur during my F.R.E.A.K.S. tenure. I park on the side of the building near a deserted door but still have to face the public. The clerk takes one look at me and grows visibly uncomfortable, even shrinking away when I walk into the foyer from the side hallway. I still have dirt on me from head to toe, but she doesn’t say a word beyond the usual checking in formalities. I snag a trolley and push it back to the side entrance. Making sure we’re devoid of prying eyes, I use my mind to lift Will’s lifeless body onto the trolley, folding his legs underneath him so he can fit. We throw our coats over him and toss some of the suitcases in the back on for good measure. Unless someone really examines us there’s no way they could tell there’s a man on there. God, my life is weird.

  We get him into the room without incident, only a few stares in the elevator by a man and his daughter. I smile, and she looks away. Will remains asleep as we hoist him on the bed. There. Done. After all the hauling, my muscles are locked and aching. I wipe my brow of the new grime covering me, mostly sweat. I really need to get back in shape. Chandler flops into the chair with a quiet sigh. “You should go clean up,” he says.

  “I don’t think I should leave you alone with him.”

  “He’ll be out for at least an hour. Go.”

  It’s more of an order than a request, but I’m too exhausted to fight. Plus I really want a damn shower. I grab my suitcase and wheel it next door. Like theirs, my hotel room has two fluffy white beds, flat screen TV on a large dresser, mini-fridge, desk, and dull artwork. Right now it’s heaven. I toss my suitcase on the bed closest to the door, retrieve my toiletry bag, shed my clothes and jump into the shower. My hands sting like a mother but the hot water feels so good everywhere else I don’t care. My wrists are just beginning to bruise but otherwise I’m okay. Intact. I—

  Out of nowhere, I burst into tears. They start off easy, just stray droplets at first, but within seconds I’m sobbing hysterically, hugging myself even. He…it was as if I was eight again. Leonard was forcing my legs apart as I screamed and cried for him to stop. And Will, if Carl hadn’t been there…

  “Okay, calm down. Calm down,” I order through the sobs.

  I take a few deep breaths which always help when I’m like this. After a few seconds I can actually think. Okay. Get a grip. Nothing happened. That wasn’t Will back there. He is nothing like Leonard. My Will would never hurt me. Never. That wasn’t him. It wasn’t.

  I stay in the shower soaping and scrubbing until I’m red. Until I fear I’ll draw more blood. I’m as clean as I’ll ever be. I put on my blue jeans and dark purple turtleneck, braid my wet hair, and sit on my bed to lace up my sneakers. But I hesitate getting up. I just don’t want to. What I want to do is crawl into bed, throw the covers over my head, and never come out. But I have to go back into that room for the very reason I don’t want to. I’m scared. I’m scared of the man I love.

  It wasn’t his fault. I know it wasn’t. It was magic or pheromones or God knows what. Will would never intentionally hurt me. Never. It was the wolf. It took over and lost control. I shouldn’t have gotten so close. I shouldn’t have let my guard down. I won’t do it again, not that I’ll need to around him. It’s over. He’ll be fine now. We’ll be fine now. And we have a clue. Whatever made him attack me has to be related to the murder. How, I have no idea, but I’ll find out. Just get off this damn bed, Bea. Now. I ball my scabbed hands into fists and force myself to rise. Work. Gotta get to work.

  Chandler answers the door with his cell phone pressed to his ear. The agent steps aside without a word my way. My apprehension wavers when I see Will. He’s still passed out on the bed and hasn’t moved. His peaceful face though covered in dirt and blood seems relaxed. No monster in sight. “No, bag it,” Chandler says into his phone, “and get samples from that tree to mobile command. Neill just called. They’re set-up now. I’ll text you the address. Do whatever you can, but the sun’s about to set. It’ll be too dangerous out there after dark. Half an hour, no more, okay?” Chandler’s quiet and glances at me. “When we deem it safe. I’ll see you soon.” He hangs up. We stare at each other, more uncomfortable by each others’ presence than usual. “Rush.”

  “Everything okay there?”

  “They found the possible kill spot near where Will was. There was blood and torn patches of fur. Looks like someone tried to cover the evidence with leaves. Still no body, though, or explanation as to why he, uh, attacked you. And command’s here.”

  “Good.”

  “I think we should move him there, put him in the cell,” Chandler says.

  “No. I don’t want him anywhere near Nancy or Dr. Neill until we figure this out.” My eyes dart to Will. “We’ll wait until the drugs wear off and see if he’s recovered.”

  “Maybe you should wait in the next room. Just to be safe.”

  “I’m not leaving. If he is still…whatever, I can hold him while you tranq him again.”

  “Sounds like a plan. If you’re okay with it.” He pauses. “Are you? Okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I say quickly. “I’m fine.”

  “It wasn’t his—”

  “I know.” I’m so not ready to talk about this. “Excuse me.” I walk into the bathroom, grab a washcloth, and wet it. I return to the room, sitting on the bed. “Have you ever seen or heard of anything like that before?”

  “No. We’ve tracked werewolves before, and he’s never had that reaction.”

  I begin wiping the dirt off his face. Will doesn’t stir. “So maybe we were wrong about it being a werewolf.”

  “The fur we found is consistent with a werewolf.”

  “Werewolves,” I correct. “At least three if the fur I found is any indication.” I wipe his neck, that same damn neck I was nibbling on this morning. “Could there have been something else out there too? Another creature?”

  Chandler shrugs. “Will should be able to tell us if he comes out of this.”

  “When he comes out of this,” I correct.

  “Alexander, you need to prepare yourself. If he wakes up violent, we’ll have no choice but to dope him and ship him back to Kansas until we find a cure. If there is a cure. For all we know, he had a mental breakdown.”

  “He didn’t have a breakdown. There was something on that tree that, I don’t know, drugged him. He’s away from it now. He’ll be fine.”

  “Alexander—”

  I meet his eyes, mine cold as ice. “He’ll. Be. Fine.”

  Because I won’t accept any other alternative.

  *

  While Chandler channels his inner supervisor, ordering the others around via telephone as I look after the patient. The hits keep coming. If Will is out of commission this case, and Chandler takes over, I will at some point have a hissy fit and smack him. If the calls are any indication he barks orders and expects instant results. At least Will gives us an hour or so to complete the task before he barks again. Chandler’s doing this to Wolfe when Will groans beside me. Both of us freeze until he moans again. With a gasp, I leap off the bed and Chandler hangs up, taking a step back as well. Will’s fluttering eyes snap us up out of our fear. Action time. Chandler grabs the first-aid kit with the tranqs as I position myself on the other side of the bed right in Will’s line of sight yet far enough he can’t reach me. One aggressive move, I hold him while Chandler injects him. After that, I haven’t a clue.

  My stomach clenches as Will continues to fight through the drugs. It’s not so much him attacking me again that’s causing my heart to beat double. He no longer has the surprise factor that snared me the first time. It’s what that attack would mean. That it wasn’t the environment. That he could be feral forever. Dangerous. We’d have to send him to Montana doped and alone in a cell until the day he dies. I’d never see him again.

  His eyes slowly open and he licks his lips. I don’t move. I don’t blink. It might change the fate of the next crucial moment. W
ill rubs his eyes and sighs. “Where am I?”

  All the tension and fear evaporate with those three words. For Chandler too. His shoulders slump as he quietly sighs. If Will notices our odd behavior, he doesn’t let on. I sit on the edge of the bed. “You’re at the hotel.”

  “Oh.” He attempts to sit up but cannot manage it yet. “I’m tired.”

  “We gave you something to sleep,” I say. “You’ll be fine soon.”

  “Good.” He closes his green eyes again, nestling into the pillow. He opens his eyes again, smiling at me. I can only manage a shaky one back. He reaches for my hand but the moment his flesh touches mine, I flinch and leap up. “What…?” His face contorts in confusion as he studies mine. I can’t hide it. Heck, I can barely look at him. But as the memories flood back, he shudders and covers his mouth as if he’s about to throw up. “Oh, God.”

  “Chandler, get out of here,” I say.

  “I don’t—”

  “Now!” As Will buries his head under the covers, moaning as if in pain, Chandler begrudgingly stalks out. The moment the door shuts, I run around the bed where Chandler stood, kneeling down to Will’s level. “Baby?” I pull the covers down. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

  His face is red and eyes are rimmed with tears. He flips over to avoid my gaze. Hesitantly, I touch his shoulder. “Don’t!” he shouts. I yank my hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Will…”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I told you. I told you this would happen.”

  “Will, I’m okay. I’m fine. I promise.” I start petting his hair whether he likes it or not. “Baby, look at me. Look at me, William Price.” He does, shame brimming from his every pore. I brush the hair off his furrowed brow. “This wasn’t your fault. I know that, okay? Do you hear me? I don’t blame you so don’t you dare blame yourself either.”

  “I tried to rape you,” he whispers. “I-I can’t…” He shakes his head and as if he were dangling over the Grand Canyon bunches up the pillowcase with his hands.

  “Hey,” I say, taking one of those fists into mine. It stings my scabs but I don’t let on. “I’m okay. I mean it. I am okay. I know that wasn’t you. You would never, ever intentionally hurt me. This wasn’t your fault.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he gasps with tear rimmed eyes.

  Gazing into his eyes so full of pain, any trepidation I harbored vanishes. The man I love is in pain. That cannot stand. I kiss his cheek, then his hair. “Scoot over.” He knows me better than to protest. He makes room so I can lie down next to him, our faces inches from each others on his pillow. I cup his face in my hands, wiping his tears with my thumbs.

  His eyes dart to the bruises on my wrists. “I hate this,” he whispers. “I’m a monster. A fucking monster.”

  I smile before softly kissing him. He doesn’t reciprocate. “Hey. Quit beating up on my boyfriend.” Our lips meet again, and this time he responds, kissing me deeply, even wrapping his arms around me. That’s more like it. I pull away first with another smile. “I love you.”

  “I love you too. So much. So fucking much. I’d rather die than hurt a hair on your head. You have to know that.”

  “I do. Of course I do.”

  “I don’t know what happened. I caught the scent of the wolves, it led me there, and then…I smelled her.”

  “Her?”

  “She was so intoxicating, Bea. I was just overcome with…lust? Madness? I-I can’t explain it,” he says with a far away gleam in his eyes. “I found the tree. She was all over it. Her sex. Her blood. It was…glorious. Heroin mixed with Ecstasy. And my wolf. It took all my strength not to let him physically push through, but he still overpowered my instincts. I lost myself, baby. He wanted her. More than wanted her. I guess that’s when you showed up. A substitute,” he says with distaste. “God, what if it’d been Nancy?”

  “It wasn’t, so don’t even go there,” I say. “Have you ever heard of or experienced anything like that before?”

  “No. Never. I’ve been around female werewolves before, and nothing like that happened.”

  “Including the female, how many did you smell out there?”

  “Four, I think. I wasn’t paying attention after I caught her scent.” He pauses. “What if it happens again?”

  “It won’t happen again.”

  “No, you don’t know that. You can’t know that.” he says, pulling away to sit up. “Listen to me. I need you to promise me something, okay?”

  “What?” I ask with trepidation.

  “If I ever…become a threat. If I ever lose control or harm anyone, especially you, that’d be it, Bea. The end. I wouldn’t want to live. Not for a minute more. Not with that on my head. I couldn’t, Bea. So I need you to promise me. I need you to promise me that if it gets to that point, you won’t hesitate. You will do whatever you have to to put me out of my misery. Just as you would anything else. Will you promise me that? Will you?”

  “Will…I-I don’t—”

  He cups my face, drawing me toward his own. “Promise me, Bea,” he says through gritted teeth, eyes as wild as they were in the forest. “Please.”

  What else can I say? “I promise.” I nod furiously. “I promise, Will.”

  He pulls me into a hug, each of us holding onto the other like a life raft during a typhoon. I just swore to kill my boyfriend. Did I mean it? Jesus, could I actually do it? The only thing I know with absolute certainty is I will do anything and everything in my power to make sure neither of us ever has to find out.

  That’s a promise.

  *

  As Will showers and changes, I fill Chandler in on the new intel and phone George. He’s never heard of a reaction like Will’s either but will start researching. He’s been doing this job longer than I’ve been alive, and I’ve stumped him. This worries me to no end.

  We grab some fast food for the team on the way to mobile command. I can tell by his tight shoulders Will’s nervous about facing them. Squeezing his shoulder helps his tension a smidge. A blow job would work better, but not with Chandler in the car. Maybe later.

  They’ve set up command in a valley at the outskirts of the park. There’s nothing around but a dirt road and field. Mobile command is a large black RV if an RV was exposed to Gamma radiation. Equipped inside are three state of the art sectors: a small lab, conference room, and medical center with freezer. We do it all from here from autopsies, and blood analysis to dinners, not all in the same room though. Our home away from home.

  Chandler parks beside the other SUVs, and we climb out. Food in hand, I lead the way toward the building, but we barely take a step when the door to command flies open. I don’t see the person coming out and not only because of the darkness. A sweet smelling breeze blows beside me as at the same time, I hear the thwack of fist against face. Will collapses to the ground.

  “You bastard!”

  Oliver looms over the prostrate and stunned Will with his fist cocked back for another blow. He delivers it with the force of Thor’s hammer to Will’s jaw. Then again. And again. Will doesn’t move. Doesn’t even raise his hands in defense. He takes every blow, blood oozing out of his nose and lip. Chandler steps toward the fray, grabbing Oliver after the fourth punch. The snarling vampire shoves the agent away. Chandler tumbles backwards onto the ground as well. Once again, I have no choice. With my mind, I lift up the insane vamp, sending him gliding into the faraway dark field, buying us all of a second or two. There’s barely time to kneel beside the dazed Will before Oliver reappears, beautiful face contorted with intense fury. Bestial almost. My hand instinctively touches Bette’s sheath. “Get away from him,” Oliver orders, sounding more menacing than I thought him capable of.

  “No,” I say.

  “Trixie, step away from him now!”

  “No, you get step from him now,” I snap through gritted teeth.

  “He—”

  “Oliver, step away now!” I roar, voice echoing through the air.

  Usually I can get
a sense of him. His thoughts and motives. We have this uncanny ability to read each other’s minds and anticipate the others’ move. If I’m in a foul mood, or vice versa, with one look we can glean it and act accordingly, usually doing our darndest to improve the situation. We know each other. Or at least I thought we did. It’s why we’re such good partners. Good friends. As we gaze into each other’s eyes, both sets filled with indignation, it’s as if that link never was. It’s gone. Vanished. If I wasn’t so pissed and scared, I’d cry.

  With a scowl, Oliver takes a step back. “As you wish.”

  I let out the breath I held and shake my head. Will groans beside me, then coughs out blood onto the dirt. “Jesus,” I mutter under my breath.

  Oliver just looms above, watching with disgust as Chandler and I aid Will to his feet. I don’t know how long they’ve been out here watching, probably the whole time, but the rest of the team hangs by the door with mouths agape, save for Nancy who covers her mouth with her hands. “Are you okay?” Chandler asks Will.

  “Fine,” he mumbles quietly. Liar. Without a doubt, his jaw and nose are without a doubt broken and his eye is almost swollen shut. He’ll heal, but the nose and jaw have to be set, and even if you’re a werewolf that hurts like a mother.

  “Get him inside and have Dr. Neill take a look,” I tell Chandler. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Chandler glances at Oliver, who scowls back, before returning his glare my way. “I told you this would—”

  “Not now. Just get him inside before those bones begin to heal,” I snap.

  “No,” Will says through the good side of his mouth. “You shouldn’t be alo—”

  “I’ll be fine. Go.”

  Chandler nods and leads Will toward mobile command. Will glances back at me, and I smile to reassure him. He really must be hurting because he doesn’t stop. With the show now over, the others return inside as well. I wait until the door shuts before turning my attention to the still sneering vampire.

 

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