Huntress Moon (Bones and Bounties Book 2)

by Bilinda Sheehan

  Without saying anything, I nodded. I could see she was getting agitated, and there was no way I was going to stand between a man and his daughter.

  “I’ll swing by later in the morning,” he said, raising a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from my face.

  I shrugged away from his touch and ducked my eyes to the ground to keep from seeing his look of hurt. I didn’t want to hurt him, but he’d kept something as huge as a kid from me…so what else was he hiding?

  “Darcey, I…”

  “Go,” I said, without raising my gaze to his. I didn’t want to hear his apologies. I didn’t want to know his reasons. That part was a lie—I desperately wanted to know his reasons but couldn’t bring myself to ask.

  He sighed and stalked away, and the tightness in my chest slowly relaxed. Without risking a look in his direction, I headed for my motorbike. I needed a good cat-nap to speed up the healing process. I’d already been through way too much, and if I didn’t recharge soon I would be useless when the moon rose.

  Just as I reached my bike, Heather’s hand wrapped around my arm, her fingers digging into my flesh. I’d heard her following me, and if she didn’t let me go soon, I was going to kick her ass.

  “He should have let you die,” she said. “You bring nothing but death and bad luck everywhere you go.”

  “You’re not exactly sunshine and roses yourself,” I added, staring pointedly at her hand on my arm.

  “Just because he told you about his whelp doesn’t mean you two can start playing happy family.”

  “If you want to keep your hand, I suggest you remove it from my arm,” I warned.

  She laughed and released me. “You’re nothing like him. He’ll tire of you, and when he does…”

  “Let me guess, you’ll be waiting with arms and legs open?” I snapped back, my exhaustion finally causing me to lose my temper.

  She snarled and reached for me, but I punched her square in the face.

  “I told you once, you’re welcome to him.” I added as I shook my hand. Punching wolves was a little too much like punching brick walls.

  “The fae can’t lie,” she said through her bloody hands as she cupped her face.

  “Well he’s a big boy, and I’m not his keeper,” I said. “He’ll make up his own mind, and I’m sorry if his vision for the future doesn’t include a bitter and vindictive cow like you.” I slammed my foot down on the kick-start, causing the bike to roar to life.

  “I know Byron won’t choose me, but as long as I’m around, I’ll be damned if he chooses Death’s bitch over one of his own again.” She spat the words at me.

  Laughter that bordered on hysteria bubbled up from my core as I gunned the throttle and raised my foot from the ground, allowing the bike to leap forward onto the road. I’d certainly been called some interesting things in my time, but ‘Death’s bitch’ was definitely a new one.

  “Stay away,” she called after me, but I ignored her.

  I drove away, her words slowly swirling in my head. What the hell had she meant when she’d said he wouldn’t choose anyone over his own again? I didn’t know anything about Byron’s past—I’d only just learned that he had a daughter. What other skeletons lurked in his closet? And were they the type that would get me killed?

  As I rode back to the apartment, I couldn’t help but think that there were far too many questions, and not enough answers, cropping up. And the balance definitely needed to tip in the opposite direction—and fast—before even more people lost their lives.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  After a shower and a cup of coffee, I was slowly beginning to feel more like myself. But the aches and pains of both old and new injuries hadn’t faded, even after an hour of standing beneath the blistering heat of the shower head.

  “Darcey,” Samira said, her voice muffled through the bathroom door. I stood in front of the mirror, peering at my reflection and the bruises that decorated the side of my face. Even my skin seemed paler than usual, which was really saying something.

  “Yeah,” I called back, drawing my eyes away from my reflection.

  “Byron is here to see you.”

  I froze, my body going as still as the grave. He was the last person I wanted to see. Okay, that was a total lie, but there was no one to hear it, so it didn’t count.

  “Fine,” I said, pushing away from the sink. I quickly braided my wet hair, my fingers moving deftly and with practised ease. If only everything could be so easy, I thought before I straightened my navy T-shirt with the huge ‘NO’ emblazoned across the front. Now that I thought about it, perhaps the T-shirt was subconsciously symbolic and Byron would take one look at it and turn tail.

  Striding through the hall and into the living room, I found him staring out the window.

  “Why are you here?” I blurted out, all thoughts of acting cool and collected fleeing as soon as he turned those dark eyes to mine.

  “I said I would see you later in the morning, and it’s later in the morning,” he said, beating around the truth.

  “Fine, but my clients don’t usually trail around after me,” I said. “And, anyway, I have things to do and people to talk to, and they won’t appreciate you tagging along.”

  “Darcey, I’m sorry. I should have told you—”

  I cut him off with a wave of my hand. “I don’t need to hear it. Honestly, it’s none of my business, and the last thing I need is to be dragged into it.” My stomach churned uncomfortably. I was skirting dangerously close to a lie.

  He crossed the room toward me, then grabbed my arm and drew me to him as his other hand cupped my cheek. His eyes were fever-bright, and I could feel the cold clamminess of his skin against mine.

  “You deserve to know the truth,” he said. “I didn’t keep Lucy a secret from you to hurt you…”

  “That, I can believe,” I said, trying to tug my arm from him. “But you also didn’t tell me about her because you thought I would be more willing to help you if I fell for your charms.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Tell me, then—when exactly were you going to tell me about your daughter?”

  He dropped his gaze to the floor.

  “Is her mother still in the picture?”

  He shook his head. “No. She abandoned Lucy when she was a baby…”

  “How did Lucy get sick?”

  His eyes widened in surprise, and his fingers flexed and dug into my arm. “How did you know?”

  “We’ve been working on this for a couple of days now, and I’ve seen enough sick wolves to recognize them.”

  “Lucy isn’t like me…” he said hesitantly.

  “You mean she’s human?”

  “Not exactly human, either. Her mother wasn’t a wolf; she was a shifter.”

  I stared at him in shock. Wolves and shifters didn’t mix. Neither side saw the other as being worthy, or at least that’s what I’d always assumed. It was certainly how they all seemed to conduct their business.

  “It was just a stupid fling, over before it really even began. She never told me when she got pregnant, and then one day she turned up with Lucy.” He released his hold on me and turned away.

  I let him go, and then folded my arms across my chest. “You didn’t give the pack to your brother because you thought he would be a better alpha, did you?”

  He shook his head. “No. I was the alpha, but when the pack realised what Lucy was, when they realised what I had done…”

  “They exiled you,” I finished for him.

  “When Lucy started to get sick, I came to my brother for help, and she attacked one of the pack members.”

  At that moment, realisation dawned on me. Lucy was the reason for the sickness…she was patient zero, so to speak. But something about that didn’t make sense…

  “I don’t understand… If she’s the original source of the infection, then where did she pick it up?”

  “Something bit her. It was something I’ve never seen before, bigger and stronger than a
ny wolf I’ve ever come across.” He shook his head. “I have no idea how I managed to get it off her.”

  “Could it have been another shifter?” I asked.

  Byron shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve seen the shifters in action, and this was different.” He hesitated. “I can only think of one thing it could be.”

  “Well don’t keep it to yourself,” I said. “You already should have told me all of this.”

  “I know,” he said, hanging his head, “and I wish I could tell you how sorry I am for not trusting you enough. But you’ve got to understand something, Darcey—she’s my daughter, and I would do anything for her. No matter how I might feel about someone else, Lucy will always come first. I owe her that.”

  I nodded; what else could I say to that kind of declaration? He was right. Parents were supposed to be there for their kids, even though Lucy’s mom proved that things didn’t always work out that way.

  “So what do you think attacked her?” I asked.

  Byron cocked an eyebrow in my direction and tilted his head to the side, giving me a long, considering look before finally letting out a sigh. “One of the fae.”

  “What did you say?” I asked, sound rushing in my ears as everything seemed to slow to a crawl.

  “One of your kind. Not a banshee, but a fae.”

  “You’re wrong,” I said.

  “Why? Because you don’t want it to be true? I think you’re missing the truth here, Darcey. The fae think she’s an abomination, just like the shifters and wolves do.” The pain in his voice was almost unbearable. “That’s the most laughable part—they think she’s the abomination, but haven’t they looked in the mirror? None of us are natural or normal.”

  “But why the fae?”

  “Who the hell do you think created us in the first place?”

  The Noree had spoken about the god and goddess who had created the wolves and shifters. It was entirely possible that the god and goddess were fae… in fact, the more I considered that, the more certain I felt. And it seemed that Byron had heard the same origin story.

  “You should have told me this sooner,” I said. “It would have saved us all a lot of time. Why tell me now?”

  “Because you want the truth,” he said simply.

  “And you didn’t think I wanted it before?”

  Byron stared down at his shoes, and I could see from the tightening of his jaw that he didn’t want to answer.

  “Tell me, did you not think I would want the truth before now, or did you not think I was worthy of it?”

  “I misjudged you, and I’m sorry,” he pleaded, still refusing to answer my question. Sometimes, though, the lack of answer spoke the loudest.

  I stared into his eyes. “I will help you find the fae responsible for this and help you save your pack, but then we are done.”

  “Darcey, what if I don’t want us to be done?” He grabbed my arm and drew me closer. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but…”

  “But you did. I get you not telling me straightaway, really, I do. But continuing to keep the truth from me, pretending that you wanted more from me than just my help…” I trailed off. “You used me. That happened once before, and I swore I wouldn’t let it happen again, no matter how pure the intentions might be.”

  Byron’s expression hardened, and he released his grip on my arm. “I see,” he said, his tone curt and tinged with anger. “So it’s like that, is it? We go back to being strangers? Throw whatever potential we have away?”

  Frustrated, I threw my hands in the air. “What potential? The trust we had was built on a pack of lies.”

  The colour had drained from his face, replaced by an icy anger that had spread to his eyes. He could be as angry as he wanted, I thought, but that changed nothing. He might have his daughter to protect, but I had people counting on me too.

  “You should go back to your daughter,” I said. “When I find something, I’ll let you know.”

  Byron shook his head and said, in a voice devoid of all emotion, “My brother wants to meet you.”

  “What, so he can try and knock me off, just like that crazy Heather bitch?”

  “I hired you without consulting him, so yeah, it’s going to be about all the things that’ve been going on,” he said.

  “Not my problem. If he wants to talk to me, he knows where I am.” I spun away.

  “Darcey, he’s an alpha… they give the orders, and others obey them,” he said. “Ash won’t like you ignoring his summons.”

  I paused, my body stiffening. “I answer to one group only, and that is the Faerie Court, because I have no other choice.”

  “But take heed, wolf,” I added, turning to meet his gaze, “there is nobody else on this earth that I obey in the same way. So if that upsets your brother, then he can tell me that to my face. I will not run around after him. Last time I checked, you were paying me, not him.”

  Byron kept his expression stony, but I could see the turmoil hidden just behind his dark eyes. I watched him flex his hands before forcing them to relax, but his rigid stance betrayed his tension.

  “Fine, I will pass on the message.” He turned from me and headed for the door.

  The moment he was gone, I felt his loss acutely. Was I being too hard on him? Every instinct in my body told me I was doing the right thing, and yet part of me said that pushing him away was a mistake. Wouldn’t I have acted the same in his shoes?

  I already knew the answer to that. But he had used me, used my emotions against me, and that just didn’t sit right with me, not after Mannan, who had used my feelings for him to justify his actions, his lies, and his abuse of my trust. And I had let him, because I’d thought that love meant allowing others to access the parts of yourself that were the most vulnerable. And, in a way, I’d been right, but I’d missed the part about making sure that person was worthy of your trust.

  Was Byron?

  “You can come out now,” I called to Samira, who poked her head around the door.

  “What was that?” she said, trying to feign innocence.

  “Really?” I said, my voice laden with scepticism.

  “Fine, but I didn’t mean to listen in.”

  I cocked an eyebrow in her direction and folded my arms across my chest.

  “Fine,” she relented, “I meant to listen, but only because it’s the only way to find out anything around here. If it’s any consolation, I don’t think he intended to hurt you.”

  “And you would know this how?”

  “Because I overheard the Noree talking about the two of you, and she seems to think that he’s a fool for falling for you.”

  “And what would she know?” I fumed.

  “Probably more than you or I will ever know,” Samira said with a smile. “I might not like the woman—to be honest, she frightens me—but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t know things.”

  “Trust me when I say, she doesn’t care about anyone but herself,” I snapped. That might not be entirely true, but neither could I call it a lie.

  Samira shrugged. “Anyway, listening to your conversation was good for one thing.”

  “Yeah?”

  “That whole thing about the fae creating the wolves and shifters? I read something about that in one of the books Noree sent over.”

  Her words caught my attention. “What did it say?”

  “Something about which gods created them… but I can’t fully remember. The book is written in a language I don’t recognize, and it takes a while to decipher. I left it back at the office yesterday.”

  “Then get dressed,” I said. “We don’t have much time until the Huntress Moon rises, and I’ve got a feeling that the fae who created the wolves and the shifters is probably the same fae who bit Byron’s daughter.”

  Samira started gathering some of the other books strewn around before disappearing to get dressed, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  I dropped down onto the couch, a small smile crossing my lips as Havoc climbed onto my lap and bega
n making biscuits on my jeans. “At least I can trust you,” I said to the kitten as she rubbed against my hand and hoisted her butt into the air as I stroked her soft fur. She meowed softly and gazed up at me with large, green eyes.

  “You want to be fed again, don’t you?” I asked, and the kitten responded with another meow before roughly head-butting me straight in the face.

  “I will take that as a yes,” I said, “but we’ve got no food here, so you’ll have to wait until I can pick something up from the deli.”

  The kitten meowed again and settled on my chest, her small body rumbling as she began to purr.

  Perhaps I had been far too harsh on Byron. But allowing myself to get caught up with him while working the case had been a mistake. From now on, it needed to be strictly business, at least until I could ensure the safety of not just the wolves in the city but also the humans. I’d seen what one rogue could do, and the thought of what an entire pack could do—hell, what Byron alone could do if he went rogue—caused a shudder to race through me.

  I vowed to stop this disease before anyone else got hurt. As though she could read my thoughts, the kitten meowed again.

  “All ready,” Samira said, bounding back into the living room.

  “Time to get to work,” I said, climbing to my feet and taking the kitten with me.

  The kitten dug her claws into me and meowed loudly.

  “And,” I added, “time to get some food for this one.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I watched Samira hand-feed the kitten the last pieces of turkey from the deli box we’d bought for her. She’d complained so much on the way to the office that food had been our first pit stop.

  Something about the office seemed off… I’d sensed it as soon as we’d gotten close enough to see in the windows from across the street. Nothing looked out of place, but the closer we got, the more uncomfortable I felt, as if someone was poking their nose where it didn’t belong. Try as I might, I just couldn’t shake my unease.