Dark Moon Falls: Volume 2

by Bella Roccaforte

  Possibly longer.

  * * *

  I put Carson to bed early so I have time to think over things I want to say to Spencer, and so far, I’ve come up with the following:

  One, it’s not just me he needs to convince he’s changed or is ready…whatever that means. He also has to convince Elias, the Alpha, because he has to agree to let him back into the Dark Moon Falls pack, and I know Elias doesn’t look upon what he did favorably—abandoning his offspring.

  Two, if this is something he seriously wants, he needs to understand this is only about his reconciliation with Carson, so he can be in his life, but it has nothing to do with me. Our romantic relationship bridge has been burned beyond repair.

  Three, he must agree to counseling before I’ll allow any interactions with Carson. No negotiations accepted. I need to know he’s committed and stable.

  Four…well, I haven’t decided on a four yet, but the first three are a good start.

  At 8:58 PM, headlights wash over the front of the house and I run to make sure Carson is fully asleep. Thank God he is.

  A light rap of the door alerts me to his arrival, and I really just want to puke, but I softly shut Carson’s door and put on my big girl panties. When I swing the front door wide, I’m greeted by a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders—tattered on the inside, eyes downcast, face tight with unease—and I know him well enough to know it’s not an act.

  “Come in,” I say, voice strained, and step aside.

  He trudges past and removes his trench coat, then lays it on the back of the stool that Blaze had laid his leather jacket across three nights prior.

  12

  Blaze

  I can feel it in the air; a negative charge. In my wolf senses as it hums through my veins— something is wrong with Maddie.

  She didn’t sound right on the phone, and it wasn’t just an, I ate something bad, or an, I’m not feeling well kind of thing. It was deeper. A stirring that disturbed the connection between us. An interruption. Since then, I’ve been restless. Something begs within me to put my eyes on her to make sure she’s okay.

  Part of me would feel psycho if it weren’t for hearing it in her voice earlier, though she tried masking it—horribly.

  All the more reason I need to check on her. I don’t even need to knock on her door and let her know that’s what I’m doing, I can just shift and run over there. Circle her house to check things…

  Do it, the wolf inside me pleads. He’s been pacing and eager to get out. Quit mulling over it and go fucking check on her already.

  Finally, I obey, and I jump out of bed and head out the back door, my wolf bristling with anticipation and relief. Inside the wood line, I allow my body to shift as it bends and contorts in that familiar way, ligaments stretching, hair sprouting all over, face elongating and teeth sharpening. I fight a dark, urgent howl so I don’t alert any of the others in their homes around me in pack land; I don’t know if there’s anything to alert them to yet. And then I take off into darkness of night and toward the direction of Maddie’s house.

  My wolf won’t let me rest until I do.

  * * *

  There are two cars in her driveway. One is an old beat up red Camry, and the other is a black SUV. A sniff along the Camry’s side tells me it’s another wolf, but not one I’ve smelled around here, which unnerves me. A sniff around the other tells me it belongs to a human, and something about the scent makes my hackles rise.

  Raindrops fall heavily against my fur, my breath pluming toward the sky as I trudge to her front door as quietly as my large paws can allow. My heart thuds thick and strong inside my ribcage as I hold my breath so I can hear better. There are two voices inside:

  Maddie.

  A male. The other wolf.

  They’re talking about him coming back into Carson’s life.

  My stomach lurches. Carson’s dad. So, he abandoned them. That’s why there are no pictures of him in the house. Why she’s never mentioned him in passing. Why she’s never mentioned him at all, in fact.

  I stifle a growl at the thought. Dickhead deadbeat.

  Her voice sounds tense. Guarded. There are hints of heartbreak around the edges and it makes me want to rip something in two. The thought of something…him, doing that to her.

  To them.

  But when she says the next thing, she sounds stern. Finite in her position—not until counseling can he be around her son. Good for her.

  He wavers, unsurprisingly.

  So, this was why she sounded different on the phone. Her ex is back in town. That would mess with anyone’s head. But it doesn’t explain the caution that’s been screaming through me all day. The thing that’s been agitating me and making me restless. There’s something darker at play. Something else…

  I sniff the air when I realize I haven’t heard the third person’s voice yet. There are only two heartbeats in the room. Where’s the third? It’s further away. In another room.

  Something rustles at the far end of the house.

  I stalk around back, head lowered, ears back, eyes trained ahead. I pause mid stride when I hear a window slide open. A heavy thud against saturated ground and a woman’s grunt.

  What the…?

  She runs.

  Runs?

  I creep faster, pause at the corner. Listen. She shoves something inside and slams the car door. Jumps into the driver’s seat. Punches the gas, and tires spin against gravel.

  When I round the corner, all I see is gravel flying and pelting against trees as she squeals away like a bat out of hell.

  A little head pops up in the backseat window, brown hair in disarray, eyes flared wide as he stares at his house and realizes his own abduction.

  Carson.

  13

  Hauling Ass

  I don’t hesitate to launch into a full sprint and follow the black SUV as best I can from inside the wood line. If I follow her out in the open, she’ll do everything she can to lose me and will drive recklessly with him in the car, which means I’ll lose Carson.

  My heart breaks thinking of Maddie. Surely, she and Carson’s dad heard the SUV as it peeled away and at this very moment, she’s probably checking on Carson to find an empty bed and an open window.

  The thought of what that’s doing to her, ripping her to shreds from the inside out, propels me forward with a growl escaping through gritted teeth. Not today. Not ever!

  The SUV follows the steep mountain road down to the highway and turns right to avoid town—and pack land. They’re heading toward Summermire.

  Staying within the wood line, I turn in the same direction, paws digging into earth then kicking it back up as I catapult into another sprint. Thankfully, it’s easier for me to keep pace down here where it’s level.

  When I hit my stride, I shuffle through scenario after scenario that could possibly stop the SUV. I can try and race ahead and meet her in the middle of the road, but she has the advantage and would probably just plow right over me. I could figure out a way to pop one of the tires, but she’s going too fast and would lose control of the car with him in it.

  So, I only have one other option, send out an alert in my mind, hoping another wolf has shifted somewhere and he (or she) will hear me.

  Hey!

  I wait a moment but get no reply.

  Impossible. I can’t be the only one in wolf form.

  Hey, is someone out there? I need help!

  Silence.

  Fuck.

  The SUV accelerates faster on the open road and it’s all I can do to keep up, but I will. I have to because I can’t let them out of my sight.

  Hey! I try again. I’ll keep trying until someone answers. I need help out—

  Blaze? a voice finally answers.

  Relief floods my veins. Elias, our alpha. He can sense when one of us is in distress. I bet he felt it and shifted.

  Yes! I’m following an SUV. I need help.

  Why? What happened?

  Carson, Maddie Winters’ son.
He was kidnapped.

  It takes him a beat to reply. How did you…what road?

  The highway heading into Summermire. Call Barnett and let him know. And have someone call Maddie and tell her what’s going on. She needs to know someone has their eye on Carson. She’s probably hysterical.

  Don’t lose them. I’m shifting back now.

  Ten-four.

  * * *

  It’s impossible to know how much time has passed, but if I were to guess, I’d say at least twenty minutes. Maybe even half an hour. A half hour further away from Dark Moon Falls. From help. From backup.

  Which also means we’ll be in Summermire in about fifteen minutes.

  Then what? What are they planning on doing with him?

  Sprinting at full speed for this long is already taking its toll on me, my legs tiring, lungs heaving, mouth aching for water, but I won’t quit.

  I won’t.

  It just means I’ll be weaker when we arrive, and I need to be strong for Carson. Sharp. Sure-footed. I’ll keep pushing.

  Keep pushing.

  And where is Elias? I know he didn’t abandon me. Or Carson.

  That’s when I hear it—something behind us. Engines roaring. Multiple engines.

  Wait…

  More engines ahead.

  Ahead?

  Elias’ voice pushes through. Blaze?

  I’m here!

  You hanging in there? We have backup.

  I am. Barely.

  Barnett and his deputies are on their way.

  Yes, I can hear them. When I spare a glance backward I can see the barest glint of headlights, and they’re steadily growing. They’re hauling ass.

  And they called Summermire PD. They’re setting up a roadblock.

  My heart does a flip. Thank God. But a part of me worries how it will go. I hope Carson is buckled in. I hope she doesn’t flip the fucking SUV trying somehow to swerve around them.

  You okay? he asks.

  Just worried, man.

  I know. Us too. But me and the hunters aren’t far behind Barnett and the deputies. We’ve got this. Carson will be okay.

  Yes, he will. Because he has to be. He must be.

  Thanks, man.

  The conversation goes silent.

  Within minutes, three Sheriff’s cars come speeding up behind us, Barnett and his deputies, and even though their lightbars aren’t on it takes her all of two seconds to recognize what they are before she stomps on the accelerator.

  In response, they slow, their cars falling back a couple car lengths so she’ll do the same. The roadblock will be enough to stop her…in theory. In the meantime, they want to keep her calm and rational. But I can’t bring myself to slow along with them. I’ll keep pace with her for as long as I can.

  To get a better look at the road ahead, I move closer to the edge of the pavement and all I see is darkness, but the highway hooks to the left in about a mile.

  My guess is they’ll turn their lightbars on at the last minute so she’ll have no choice but to slow, and not give her too long to think of a way out, and that’s when Barnett and the others will close in from behind.

  My insides clench at the thought. Then what? Will she surrender? Will she not go down without a fight?

  A shootout?

  Whatever happens, I just hope she gets distracted, because as soon as I have the chance to snatch Carson out of the backseat, I will.

  14

  Sour Blood

  The road hooks left, and I’m disappointed to see an empty stretch of dark highway. I glance back to Barnett and the others who’ve fallen even further behind. What’s the plan, then?

  I call out to our Alpha. Elias?

  I’m here.

  You know what they’re planning?

  Not really. Barnett just told us to follow them. We’re about a minute behind now. Why?

  All we seem to be doing is following her. And there’s no sign of Summermire PD.

  I’m sure they have a plan.

  Silence falls heavy between us as we both sprint after the SUV through the pouring rain. As we analyze. As we worry. Blaze, if you need to take a rest, fall back. We’ll be catching up soon.

  I’m good, I all but bite back. Not in a disrespectful way, in a no way in hell, way. I’m not slowing. I’m not leaving Carson.

  He doesn’t push the issue. Where was he taken from?

  He’s distracting me now. If he can’t get me to rest, he’ll at least keep my mind occupied while my body exhausts itself. His house.

  He waits for me to elaborate.

  I had a feeling something bad was about to happen to Maddie, so I went over there.

  You did?

  I hesitate, knowing what he’s probably thinking—that I have a connection with her. A strong one. That allows me to feel when she’s in danger. And what that probably means…

  She’s my intended.

  Yes. And her ex was there.

  It takes him a moment to recall his name. Spencer?

  Yeah, I guess. She’s never said his name to me.

  And then Carson was taken?

  Yes. From his bedroom.

  We take a moment to contemplate the coincidence. Is it connected? It must be. He distracted while the woman kidnapped.

  The thought pushes me faster, my chest rumbling with a low growl.

  Keep your cool, Elias cautions. Keep your head on str—

  A deafening pop-pop shatters the night, and I whine at the assault on my ears. Nearly stumble over my tired legs. Panic shoots through me as I regain my footing, thinking the sound could have been a gun, but when I gather my wits, I notice the SUV slows and swerves. Sparks flare beneath it, rims screaming against pavement, and I realize the tires have gone flat. They’re all flat…

  I pause, breathing labored, and watch as the SUV rolls to a stop because it was forced to, and I do the same.

  The popping noises.

  Road spikes.

  I glance back to see Barnett and the others have slowed as well, their patrol cars turning to create a wall behind her so she can’t go anywhere. Their lightbars flare to life, blue and red lighting up the world around us in a silent rhythm.

  The next thing I hear is Elias and the others’ paws as they drum against the soggy earth. They’re less than a minute away, then. They’re going as fast as their legs will allow.

  “Out of the car!” someone to my right shouts. A bullhorn squeaks, makes a static noise, and then its owner repeats it into its microphone, his urgent voice a stir of echoes in the trees around us. “Out of the car!”

  I look to the SUV. She’s as still as a statue in the front seat, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. Carson’s head is nowhere to be found. He’s probably curled up in the backseat.

  I whine at the thought. Shift nervously. Wait…

  I need to wait. Let the police handle this. I’ll only step in if I’m needed.

  But fuck, it’s hard not to.

  “Out of the car!” he says again, and then I see him walk into view from the woods across the street wearing a yellow poncho. In tandem, two patrol cars emerge from a hidden drive in the woods, drive past him and arrange themselves into another barrier. They turn their lightbars on.

  She’s blocked in now from both sides.

  The officers then burst out of their cars and kneel behind the fronts, draw their guns over the hoods and train them on the woman behind the windshield. The officer with the bullhorn makes a point to stand behind them.

  “This is Summermire PD. There is nowhere to go. Exit your vehicle.”

  She doesn’t obey.

  As Barnett and the deputies get out of the cars behind the SUV, drawing my attention back to them, Elias and the Hunters arrive. Having them near, knowing they’re here to help, eases the tight coil in my chest, though I know this is far from over.

  The Hunters make a show of emerging from the woods and settling into place behind the Sherriff’s patrol cars; they want to make sure she sees them. But Elias stays hidden
in the woods. I turn and bow my head in acknowledgement of his presence. He nods in return and we both watch as everything unfolds from the wood line. I want to ask why he chose to hang back in the woods with me to watch, but I don’t question him. They may have come up with a plan on the way here.

  I’d bet my life on it.

  Since the woman isn’t doing as she’s told, one of the Summermire officers round the front if his patrol car with his gun still pointed in her direction and inches toward the SUV. “Out of the vehicle!” he orders.

  She finally budges. Probably because she knows if she doesn’t get out, he’s going to pull her out, and she’s vastly outnumbered.

  Carefully, shakily, she lifts her hands from the wheel and opens the door.

  The officer halts. “Keep ‘em raised!”

  She does as she’s told.

  “Now make your way to me.”

  As she cooperates, I notice Elias creeping closer to the wood line, sniffing at the air in the direction of the car.

  Yes, he’s in there, I say.

  I smell him, Elias confirms.

  “Now, turn around,” the officer directs. She pauses in the open road between them and it’s then, as I get a good look at her, I realize this woman isn’t right. I know the officer feels it too because he rocks from foot to foot. Her face is pocked with scabs, her stringy hair a matted mess that quickly slicks against her face from the rain.

  A quick sniff in her direction reveals something sour in her blood. A rottenness beneath her clothes.

  Unwashed. Shaky. Scabs.

  Drug addict.

  But it has to be a recent addiction because she’s not emaciated. Yet. She’s sturdy with broad shoulders and thick, muscular legs. Like a former athlete, which explains why she was able to climb out of a window with a seven-year-old and shove him into the back of a car.

  But the drug use also means she’s unpredictable. Irrational.