Devil Hills: #2 Luna & Lydia

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  “I think it was rebellion against the control…” Luna winced at the laughter around her, the warm palms stroking her neck and shoulders and the lips against her head.

  “I think you just made their day, babe,” Sage whispered through his chuckle.

  “We’ve been trying to get our hands on a sample,” Seth told her.

  “I think those are from different batches,” Liz lifted the vials and read.

  “I have a few others. In my pack at home,” Luna told them. “She always had several so I took some and kept them hidden.”

  “Our people could work up an antidote from these,” Liz looked excited, her mind churning. “We knew there were several versions. We’d heard that the last year they were working to adapt them to each breed, each type of shifter out there. These are all clearly labeled. What our people have determined, though, is they may work better on males than females because of our hormonal make-up and how stress and other things influence our system.”

  “We’ve had her followed, saw her go to different places where different types of shifters are being held,” Seth was up and pacing the expanse of his office. He looked at Liz. “Get them down to Channing and keep them under lock and key. Only you, me and Channing, Liz.”

  “If you come to the house, I’ll give you the others. I remember them saying the females were most difficult because of how foods effected our hormone levels and the drugs could only be based on a given level. They also said teen males were difficult for the same reasons,” she looked from one to the other. “I hope that helps somehow.”

  “Everything helps, Luna,” Liz said with a nod.

  “I’ll send someone to the house with them for the other samples,” Seth said almost absently in his excitement.

  “I’ll take care of it,” she stood up and lifted the vials. “Luna, if…you ever want to talk, call my office, alright? But to be honest,” she looked at Sage. “I think you’re going to be fine.”

  “It was nice meeting you,” Luna met her smile with one of her own, her sigh relieved.

  “I’ll send someone with you to your house, Luna. I want those other vials away from you as soon as possible.”

  “No one knows I have them, except you,” she stood up and inhaled deeply, looking a little uncomfortable. “I have something else you might want,” she looked down for a long minute. “She was due to come out to the apartment three days after I left, we’d be back in Montreal by then…I think she never missed the things I took because she had so many people and places she went. I heard her complaining to the guards and my father often about thieves at one of the schools. They never suspected me because I always…I pretended a lot…that I wasn’t there,” she opened the purse at her side and pulled a bound notebook, five inches by seven inches and laid it on Seth’s desk. “I think these are her notes. I didn’t know what I was going to do with them, shred them probably when I was alone. I was just…a part of me was angry…and wanted to…inconvenience her…” She finished politely, looking at the two men laughing.

  “You wanted to piss her off,” Sage said with a broad grin.

  “Perhaps. Yes.”

  Seth picked up the notebook reverently and held his breath. He opened the front, taking in the names and symbols, the comments and observations and the dates. He looked up at Luna.

  “This covers almost five years,” his voice shook slightly, the cover closed and the thick, small notebook clenched in his fingers.

  Luna shrugged. “I was really angry when I stole things. I know I’m not crazy…but at the time, my cat was telling me to do damage. Only I didn’t know how, other than taking what belonged to them.”

  “Don’t hit me,” Seth said, he gaze aimed at Sage. Gritting his teeth and striding around the desk, his hands on her waist and hugging her close for a long minute. “Let me take care of a few things and I’ll give you a ride home and collect those vials, if that’s alright with your mate.”

  “He’s a trusting mate,” Luna said when she was again on her feet. She felt Sage’s chest against her back and cuddled against him. “And I’ve kept him from his job, so I appreciate the ride home. I hope that helps you…and the others.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Three thousand miles across the country…Montreal, Canada.

  Jude St. John frowned, eyes darker than midnight watched her move through the huge ballroom. She was decked out in an amazing dress of silver, adorned with white shimmering beads and crystals that sparkled beneath the chandeliers. He knew her scent. Knew it and couldn’t place it into a category he could accept.

  He’d seen her, scented her, at two other functions. A luncheon the day they arrived back in Montreal without the daughter of his employer. And a dinner party. A small dinner party where no one he asked knew who she was. And by the time he managed to corner her, she had slipped on a coat and vanished out the door.

  Not that any of those were disturbing in or of themselves. The familiarity of her scent, just the slightest bit off from something his memory would tag and recognize. That was annoying.

  But then there were the quiet announcements of thefts the next morning, those made the hairs at the back of his neck stand on edge. He made the standard rounds in the huge ballroom, mentally noting anything unusual when she came into view once more. That’s when he realized that only her scent, that slightly off scent he couldn’t place in his mind, had identified her.

  Each time he’d seen her, her appearance had been slightly altered. Always her hair and make-up. And now he realized a slight swerve in the style of clothing she chose. All designed to carefully alter the impression of anyone looking at her.

  At the luncheon, she had looked almost invisible. An expensive English cut, dark charcoal suit with tiny white stripes and a pencil skirt that touched her knees. She’d moved slowly and sedately, her hair a dark, rich chestnut with a fringe of bangs over the high forehead and pulled into a somber knot at the nape of her neck. And dark gold edged, narrow glasses that framed a pair of large green eyes. She’d taken a seat near the room holding the coats and was often up and out of the ballroom.

  At the small dinner party, small being less than five hundred, he thought dryly, she had worn a somber black dress. Nothing that stood out. No jewelry and her hair had been a dark blond, a short bob that fell in a straight curve to her chin and stopped. No bangs this time, no glasses, but those same wide green eyes that took in everything and everyone with a silent curiosity. He’d passed her several times, logging the scent and moving along. She was non-threatening and even appeared rapt in her attention of the speakers.

  Tonight her dress definitely would have, should have, stood out and been noticed. Except all wore masks that were elaborately adorned and hid the features of those wearing them. Tonight, her hair was a golden shade of sunshine, pulled into a loose topknot and falling in wide Grecian curls about her face and spilling onto her shoulders. Pearl-like beads hung from the corners of the white silk mask, dangling and mixing with the curls.

  And those big, beautiful green eyes. Captivating. Deep sea green with a teasing hint of silver around the edges.

  The ballroom was in one of the more exclusive hotels in downtown Montreal. Tonight, it was filled to capacity with people making outrageous donations to one of the children’s charities that his employer, Therrin Gaudarville contributed to.

  Dressed in a midnight tux, Jude St. John made cautious, casual rounds in the ballroom, his attention on the woman whose scent he couldn’t place. And it had been annoying him. A lot. It wasn’t like he could text his real boss and find out what it indicated or meant. But he’d bet someone at the research institute would be able to answer his question.

  His senses were filled with the acute frustration of not only his employer, but that vampire doctor as well. She was like something from a bad scifi movie. Not a genuine vampire, but in his mind, worse. He’d sensed it the first time he met her when Luna St. Germaine was there.

  His frown deepened, his eyes sharpened as if the li
ght bulb had just burst forth.

  That was the scent. His head snapped up with an almost audible sound. Dark eyes swept the crowds, searched the gowns and dresses. Gaudarville had been so frustrated the last ten days, working on some plan to snatch his daughter from Devil Hills.

  People had asked about her. She had always been at his side, the quiet little doll following orders, socializing and smiling. There were questions and finally several news stories. Gaudarville had chosen to make it sound like she’d been taken against her will by unstable shifters.

  Only the daughter was here.

  Disguised and circulating around him. But doing what? Why? He watched her. She barely spared Gaudarville a glance. Not that the man would notice her. He was full human and probably knew less about his daughter than Jude did.

  He didn’t bother hiding the frown. Most of the people who were aware he worked for Gaudarville were accustomed to the cold, forbidding expression he wore. Keeping his movements subtle, he searched for her scent, trapped it and moved easily through the masked people toward one of the arched entrances that led to the bank of elevators.

  He caught the edge of her gown seconds before she rounded the corner, taking the stairs. He cast about once inside the stairwell, going down two levels and following her scent to one of the end rooms. He knew she was inside even though she made no noise. He leaned against the wall, one foot braced against it, arms crossed over his chest and waiting.

  Jude felt his frown deepening.

  The gown she wore was an off shoulder number.

  Her scent was the same as it had been before she vanished and reappeared in Devil Hills, mated and marked.

  Only now, there was no mating scent and her shoulders were their pristine, creamy selves. Not a mark in sight. Last time he checked, mating wasn’t something that vanished. At least not quickly.

  So how had she managed to fool both him and the wolf shifter that had been with them when her father cornered her in Devil Hills?

  And what the hell was she up to? Revenge on her father? Could it be that simple?

  That didn’t work for him because she wasn’t doing anything to target him, directly or even indirectly. In fact, she seemed to be totally unaware of him, not even casting an angry glare in his direction.

  He heard the door open and followed behind her, far enough back to go unnoticed. She stopped at several other rooms, that amazing little pass in her hands getting her quietly inside. Each time, she spent less than five minutes before emerging and after six rooms, returned to the ballroom. Going against his normal behavior, he sought her out, taking her palm before she could protest and guiding her expertly to the dance floor.

  Pale champagne colored lashes went wide, green eyes flaring first in trepidation and then in annoyance. That small, slightly squared chin tipped; the full bow of her lips enticing and tinted a pale pink as she glared up at him.

  “A dance, princess,” Jude suggested warmly, just enough bite in his hold to keep her from breaking out of his grasp. “Ah-ah-ah…we wouldn’t want to attract attention now, would we?”

  Even white teeth nibbled the corner of her cheek. She’d seen him around the places she’d been lately. Information told her he was one of the guards working for Gaudarville. Noted and dismissed. Insignificant to her plans.

  “Employees don’t usually grace the dance floor,” she said after a quiet minute, relaxing and allowing him to believe she was compliant. At least for the moment.

  “I’m flattered you noticed me,” he watched the almost innocent flare in her eyes.

  “I notice a lot of things. You’re quite handsome. Striking,” she said honestly. A little annoyed that she had let him invade her thoughts at a few of the events she’d been to lately. Men don’t usually make it past her shields unless she sensed they would be a hazard to her. On that score, her senses were quite adept and generally flawless.

  “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. Jude St. John,” he said, considering her words. Words that were completely devoid of any hint of an accent. “You know my employer?”

  “I’ve seen him around. I should be going…” She tried backing out of his hold only to find his hands a little firmer. “I wouldn’t think you were that desperate for a partner to dance with,” she glanced around at several women interested in the dark blond male holding her close. “Perhaps you should check some of the women watching you.”

  “I’m particular and you’ve managed to capture my curiosity.”

  “Lucky me,” she returned, the smile she offered feral and false.

  “So tell me about yourself.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Why are you here?” He watched the puzzled frown crease her forehead, green eyes alert and studying him closely.

  “It’s an event. I have an invitation. Simple, even for you to grasp,” came the light, sarcastic hit. She didn’t have to mention she stole not only the invitation but the gown and even the money for the trip in the cab.

  “And all the rooms you visited in the hotel?” He’d give her credit. Not so much as a jump in heartbeat. “Let me guess….you’ve left little chocolates on their pillows and cutely folded towel animals.”

  “I’ve visited rooms here? I’m sure you’re mistaken. I’m not staying at the hotel.” She lied glibly. “I live close enough not to have to stay here. I think most of them are for those who indulge in a little too much of the free alcohol,” she remarked casually, one shoulder up in a light shrug. “Have you enjoyed the wines?”

  “I don’t drink much and especially not when I’m working.”

  “Dancing with guests is part of your job description?”

  “Only the ones who fascinate me.”

  “How fortunate for me,” she murmured, only a slight trace of sarcasm this time. “Why not just cut to the chase and tell me – in nice clear English – what you want from me?”

  “Why are you here instead of in Devil Hills?” Alright. He’d play the game the way the lady wanted. For now.

  Pale lashes blinked at him, lips pursed in consideration as she studied him.

  “Is that some slang euphemism for hell?”

  “As in I’m suggesting you should be in hell?” He was well trained. He could scent lies. Easily. But nothing came from her when he mentioned Devil Hills but – nothing.

  “Been there, done that…still have the scars,” she listened to the strains of the delicate waltz come to an end and offered a brilliant smile. “It’s been a wonderful dance, Mr. St. John, thank you ever so much.”

  “I’m not finished…”

  He wasn’t sure when everything went wrong.

  But it had to begin with the graceful faint she went into. Suddenly she was dead weight and lying against him.

  Women close to him gasped. Some raised a palm to their lips, others glanced around for unasked for assistance.

  People were clearing a space and urging him to take her to the small room with the sofa. Women followed and ushered him out while another of them went in search of a physician. By the time he realized what had happened, she was gone and he was glaring at the empty space on the sofa, swearing to himself and any gods willing to listen.

  Chapter Twenty

  She did not like the feeling that the man who had danced with her was about to become a major annoyance in her ass. But the prickly sensation had guided her far too long in her life to be ignored. She made it quietly back to the small loft apartment. At least the one she was using for the moment. Finding people out of town was always so easy.

  Lydia Jones quickly stripped out of the glitzy gown, leaving everything nice and tidy as she packed her backpack with the haul for the night. By the time she made the jewelry trade for what she needed, it was after midnight when she returned to the dormitory style school and research facility on the outskirts of the small area near Montreal.

  Sneaking past their security had long ago become nothing more than a mild test in her own abilities to stealth. The guards were far sub-level because
she was the one keeping the residents in line. She had them all trained and had been working hard at it the last few weeks. Slender fingers raked back the feathery champagne colored hair, the bangs falling haphazardly over her forehead. It was a good haircut and Lydia liked quality. Most of her quality was borrowed, but she did enjoy it.

  She’d discovered that quite young, as well as the path that kept her in the fine things she indulged herself with now and again. She also made friends easily, good trusted friends because she always paid her debts, always gave generous favors and was always available when someone needed her.

  Even when there was retribution now and again. Usually only when she let herself get too tired to focus.

  She checked the expensive watch on her slim wrist and quietly went from room to room, gathering the residents and moving them into place. She handed each one a carefully labeled packet and stuffed backpack, the hint of heated moisture in her eyes making her have to dig for a smile.

  Not allowed, she told herself firmly. No involvement. No entanglements. No pain.

  “You take this and you run. You find places to blend and you work and keep your heads down and don’t attract attention. I’ve taught you everything I can,” she looked out the small window on the main entrance doors. “I’ll distract the guards and you all go. Disappear. Do you understand? This place isn’t going to be here in a few minutes,” she assured them, accepting each nod from the males and females, each under twenty. She was the oldest there, almost thirty, and deliberately difficult. This was the third batch she’d liberated. And the last for this ‘school’.

  Lydia straightened her shoulders, opened the heavy coat she wore and checked her watch one more time.

  “Do not look back. No matter what you hear, do not stop,” Lydia kept her voice hard. Ten seconds later, the first explosion struck. “Go. Now.” She ordered gruffly, shoving the door with both hands and running to the left where she knew the guard would be on his rounds.