Dark Moon Falls: Volume 2

by Bella Roccaforte

  Elias eyes the officers. The woman. And then emerges onto the road, crouching down so the SUV will keep him hidden from her. He stops, consults Barnett with a look, and Barnett nods his assent.

  He skulks all the way to the car.

  “Turn around!” the officer repeats, but she doesn’t obey.

  When I look back to Elias, he’s shifted to a human, and he’s peeking into the tinted back window. He points down, like he’s asking Carson to unlock the door.

  My heartbeat kicks into a gallop.

  The officer inches toward her again, and she backs up. “What’d I do, man?” she yells over the sound of rain pounding against pavement, and backs toward the car again. She keeps her hands up, but her feet stumble over each other and when she teeters, her shirt lifts and I see a gun tucked into her back waistband.

  Oh God…

  I instinctually inch forward, wanting to alert the officer. She has a gun, I say to Elias, but I forget he’s in human form now and can’t hear me.

  “I won’t say it again!” the officer cautions. “Turn around and drop to your knees.”

  “But I didn’t do anything!” she insists, almost whines.

  Fuck. Hurry, Elias! If she sees him taking Carson, will she go for her gun?

  Finally, the back door opens, and Elias reaches inside to help get Carson out.

  I scurry closer just in case they need help.

  “There’s nowhere to go!” the officer with the bullhorn announces. “To your knees, and no one gets hurt.”

  Before she slides into the front seat again, she glances into the back and her eyes go wide. She fumbles with something at her back.

  No.

  Elias! My thoughts scream, and I catapult from the wood line. Distract her. I need to distract her…

  As Elias drags Carson out, her hand lifts inside the car with the gun clutched inside, aiming in their direction and I’m not sure the officers can see what she’s doing because it’s dark, so I make a split-second decision, leaping over the hood and try to get at her from the other side.

  It works because she flinches into the seat, her hand with the gun falling, but as our eyes meet she realizes I’m coming for her. She swings the gun around and pulls the trigger.

  The gun kicks back, her small arm unable to hold it steady and the bullet shatters through windshield. There’s little I can do to avoid it midair and as soon as the white-hot pain explodes into my side, I know what’s happened.

  My body goes limp, stunned by the blow, and I land on the concrete with a thud and slide to a stop.

  Gunfire explodes all around me.

  15

  A Weeping, Joyful Mess

  For the past hour and a half, it’s been all I can do to not lose my mind. Claw out of my skin. When I heard a car peel out of the driveway I knew something was wrong and went straight to Carson’s room to find an empty bed. As I worked to get a hold of someone at the Sheriff’s station, Barnett called me to let me know they were already on it, and since then, I’ve been wrecked.

  Spencer’s no help. He just sits on the couch and stares into nothingness as I scream and pace and melt into a helpless puddle in the floor. Rinse and repeat. And somehow, I find myself behind the wheel of my car, cranked, music blasting and rain pelting against the windshield as I shift it into Drive, but I don’t know where I would go. I don’t know where this person took my child. I feel like I should be doing something but have no idea as to what.

  The only people who can support me in this time of need are either out chasing down the monster who kidnapped him or expecting a baby, asleep in their mansion five minutes away, and I can’t bring myself to disturb them. Rhee would freak out and go into early labor.

  I don’t know what to do.

  Who to call.

  Now is about the time I could use my father. He was a cop. A damn good one. Not always the best father, but he would know what to tell me in this moment. Know what to do to get Carson back.

  Who would do this? Why?

  In my gut, I know it can’t be a coincidence this happened on the heels of Spencer returning, but I can’t get my thoughts to gel together and form a coherent sentence. I can’t even muster the energy to shake him until he talks, though part of me doesn’t want him to. Because if he opens his big, dumb mouth, if he gives me any kind of inclination he’s behind this, I’ll kill him. I’ll rip him limb from limb. So, I let him sit and stare, and he lets me lose my mind, and it works for now, because I don’t know what else to do. I just want my son back.

  When I bust through the front door for another pacing session in the living room, my phone chimes in my back pocket, my knees going weak at the sound.

  “Madison?” the voice says on the other end. Barnett.

  Spencer looks to me with urgency, and I instinctually turn away. “Yes?” My voice is unraveled. Faraway.

  “We’ve got him. He’s safe.”

  I crumple to the floor with relief.

  * * *

  An hour later, they arrive, blue and red lights washing over my windows and I fling the front door open and sprint through the rain to the closest patrol car. Ralph rolls down the window, his face blanched and tight and points to the car behind him. I run to that one, and Carson is already out of the passenger side door by the time I arrive. He jumps into me.

  I want to remain strong, because I told myself I would when Barnett said they were on their way, but the moment Carson’s body fastens to mine and his arms wrap around my waist, the moment his floodgates open and he sobs into my stomach now that he’s home and safe and with me, I’m a mess. An absolute weeping, joyful, frazzled mess, and I don’t feel a bit bad about it.

  Within minutes, we’re drenched and freezing, and Barnett helps usher us inside to a waiting Spencer. Carson eyes him briefly as I take him to the bathroom to get a quick, warm bath and some pajamas, but he’s too traumatized to ask who he is. I don’t offer anything over.

  By the time I have him tucked into my bed, he’s exhausted, eyes droopy, but every time he starts to drift off, he jolts awake and squeezes my hand to make sure I’m still here.

  “I’m still here,” I whisper, my heart breaking as I watch him struggle. He’s afraid to sleep because he doesn’t want to be taken from me again.

  I snuggle closer. Never again.

  Never again.

  “Mommy?” he says sleepily. Weak.

  “Yes, love?”

  “Tell the red wolf I said thank you for saving me.”

  “The…red wolf?” Barnett hadn’t told me much, other than they had someone with their eyes on the vehicle and they would work with the Hunters and Summermire to get Carson back safe. Basically, everyone stepped in to help save him, and I owe them everything. My very life.

  “Yeah. He was at the house when the bad lady took me.”

  The bad lady. So, it was a woman. Somehow, that cuts deeper than if it had been a man.

  “And he followed us. He never left me.”

  Eyes. The red wolf was their eyes. But who was it? There are so many around here.

  Blaze’s auburn hair flashes through my mind, and I wonder…

  My heart expands, and tears burn my eyes. Maybe it was him, though how would he have known to be here, in wolf form, at just the right time?

  As soon as Carson falls asleep, if he falls asleep, I’ll go straight to Barnett and ask. I can hear him and Ralph talking with Spencer in the living room and I’m guessing they won’t leave until I’m back up. They’ll want to get my statement and make sure Carson is settled and okay, and will want to make sure what I’m comfortable with as far as Spencer is concerned—if I’m okay with him still being here. It’s who they are. Besides, I’m sure they have their own suspicions concerning him and his involvement, if any, though my gut has still been telling me not to dismiss it.

  “Sleep now,” I tell him, and brush his russet hair, the same color as mine, from his face. “You have every wolf in Dark Moon Falls watching over you.” My throat clenches tight. “
You’re safe, baby. You’re safe.”

  16

  Savior, Lover

  Carson restlessly falls asleep after the mention of wolves watching over him, and I head back out to the living room to find Barnett slapping a pair of cuffs onto Spencer.

  My world spins.

  Ralph sees me and immediately tries to usher me into the kitchen so I don’t have to witness it, but I shrug him off. “What happened?” I say, but I know. I know what’s happened. They somehow have proof he was involved. Or they got a confession.

  Barnett gives me an apologetic scowl and tugs Spencer out the front door. I follow after, stopping at the threshold and watching as he shoves him inside on of the patrol cars. The Hunters are here now, still in wolf form except for Elias, and they all look on with a mixture of distain and satisfaction as he disappears inside the car. The entire time, Spencer makes a point to not make eye contact with me.

  Good idea.

  “Watch him,” Barnett instructs the wolves as he makes his way back to me.

  Elias makes a point to lean against the window where Spencer is sitting, the rain washing down his bare torso in a slick sheet, jeans drenched. The cold won’t bother him, so he’s not going anywhere.

  Ralph and Barnett set me on the couch and ask if I’m okay to talk about all of this, or if I need a couple days.

  “I’m good,” I manage, and I am, though I’m feeling a bit fragile from it all. But I want to know what they learned and why that led to Spencer being in cuffs.

  And who the red wolf is.

  He starts by explaining that he got a call from Elias a couple hours ago, saying that one of the wolves had seen the abduction and he needed help getting Carson. “That’s all I knew,” he says, laying a consoling hand over mine as they clutch each other in a death grip over my lap. “Sorry I couldn’t offer more when I first called you.”

  “That’s okay,” I assure him. He had to focus on what the next steps were at the time.

  He then launches into how they contacted Summermire because the wolf who was following them said he thought that was where they were headed. “So,” he summarizes, “I contacted them, and we worked together to stop her SUV and get Carson out of her car. Elias was the one who pulled him out.”

  I swallow over the lump in my throat. “And…her? Who is she?”

  “Elaina Andrews. A human, and apparently Spencer’s fiancé.” He gives me a second to allow that to digest.

  I nod to myself. He played me. He totally played me. And I’m not the least bit surprised. If anything, I feel stupid for falling for it. For thinking he might have somehow grown a conscious and had good intentions with coming back around. “Why did they do it?”

  “Well, we know she was on drugs. And he probably is too, though because he’s a wolf, his body responds to them better and it doesn’t show as much. But we’re thinking meth.”

  Ohmygod. A meth-head took my child.

  “Spencer knew you would never hand him over, so they came up with a plan to take him from you—distract you, while she rolled into your driveway with her lights off and abducted him from his room through the window.”

  I release a shaky breath so I don’t lose it…so I don’t go out there and drag him out of the car and beat the shit out of him. “He knew it was the only way he could have custody of him,” I add, seething.

  “Exactly,” Ralph says from across the room.

  “Yes,” Barnett echoes. “Happens more than you think.”

  I nod again, drawing in a deep breath. My thoughts pictured Spencer and this woman, shooting up and planning the kidnapping of my son and my stomach rolls. But they didn’t. They didn’t get what they wanted, and Spencer is in the back of the patrol car. “How did you figure it all out?” Did she squeal? Did Spencer spill it all in this living room?

  Barnett shifts on the couch beside me, uncomfortable.

  I brace myself.

  “Elaina…didn’t make it. There was a shootout.”

  The blood drains from my face. “There was a…?”

  “Yes, but most everyone is okay.”

  Ralph grunts. “Except Elaina.”

  “Yeah, she shot first, and that was the end of it. We tried to get her to cooperate, tried giving her a chance to peacefully surrender, but she resisted and put your child and everyone else in danger.”

  Oh God.

  “So, when that was over and we confiscated her things, we looked through her phone, so we have all the evidence we need now to convict Spencer.”

  “Good.” I’m guessing they mean texts, pictures, whatever. I don’t really want to know, to be honest.

  But there is still something I want to know. “The red wolf,” I say, and something inside me tightens with anticipation. “Carson mentioned that a red wolf watched over him to make sure he was safe. Do you know if that was who saw the kidnapping and asked Elias for help?”

  Barnett had to take a moment to answer, his expression grave, and it caused the tightness inside me to twist painfully.

  “What?” I say, my eyes desperately shifting to Ralph. He won’t look in my eyes now. They’re fixated on the floor.

  Barnett’s hand shifts to my upper back to help me brace for it. “It was Blaze,” he says grimly.

  My breath hitches at his name.

  “According to Elias, he came over here because he sensed something wasn’t right.” The softness in his voice tells me he knows what that means—that we have a connection. That I mean something to him. “And then he saw the kidnapping and took off after them.”

  It was him. He saved my baby. But why are they being so dour about it? My lips parted to ask, but the words stuck in my throat as visions of flying bullets came to mind.

  “When we and the Hunters had caught up, and Summermire PD was attempting to get her to surrender, Blaze watched from the woods. And as Elias was getting Carson out of the car, Elaina tried to shoot at him…”

  My mouth goes dry, my heart slamming into my throat.

  “…but Blaze jumped in to distract her and she ended up shooting him instead. And that’s what started the shootout.”

  All the breath squeezes out of my lungs at the news, and I feel faint, fall backward until my back rests against the couch.

  Blaze… Carson’s savior. My lover, potential forever mate, was shot. But wolves heal fast, right? He can be okay. He can still be okay.

  But why aren’t they telling me that then?

  “Where is he?” I ask.

  Barnett looks to Ralph, and they nod in tandem as if giving themselves permission. “He’s with Phaedra,” he finally replies.

  Phaedra. The high priestess. They take wolves to her to help heal wounds their bodies can’t heal on their own; often wounds that are fatal.

  Fatal.

  “He was shot in the side, Maddie. Hit some pretty major organs. We’re not sure if he’ll pull through yet.”

  17

  Keep Fighting

  Elias texts me updates when he can. After everyone left, he assured me he would go straight to Phaedra’s and wouldn’t leave Blaze’s side until either Phaedra healed him, or…

  I can’t even think it as I sip a mug of black coffee on my couch, staring into nothing. It’s three o’clock in the morning now, but I can’t rest until I know which way this ends up going.

  I almost asked to go with Elias, and for Ralph or one of the wolves to stay behind to watch over Carson (surely my ICU nurse skills could be of help), but I couldn’t leave him. When he wakes, I need to be here. He’ll want me. He needs me.

  And that’s what Blaze would want as well.

  Besides, as I understand it, the healing Phaedra does is more of magical in nature than medical, so I don’t know how much help I would actually end up being.

  My phone buzzes with an alert and I jump. I snatch it from the cushion beside me to check it.

  Elias.

  My heart drops. But it’s just a duplicate of the text he sent earlier, thanks to the crappy reception up here:
r />   It’s touch and go, but he’s fighting.

  “Keep fighting,” I whisper to the phone, eyes burning with both tears and exhaustion. A tear drips against the screen and I the phone toss back onto the couch. Set the empty mug on the floor and recline into the same spot I fell asleep the night he stayed over. I still remember the way his strong hands felt as he rubbed my feet and calves. The way he made me feel. Important. Comfortable. Desired.

  “Come back to me,” I say, and shut my eyes against the messed-up reality I’ve been living over the past twenty-four hours.

  Come back to me…

  * * *

  A knock on the front door catapults me into an upright position on the couch. With a horrified gasp, I fumble with my phone to see five missed texts, all from Elias, but another urgent knock tears me away from them. I must have fallen asleep.

  My eyes scan the living room, and Carson appears to still be asleep because my bedroom door is still closed, but I rush there anyway before I answer the door to make sure he’s okay.

  His little body is still snuggled under the covers, so I relax, and then shuffle to the front door to see who it is.

  When it swings wide, a puffy-eyed Elias is on the other side.

  I grip the door jamb as I brace for what he has to say.

  “You get my texts?” he asks. His brown eyes burn with urgency.

  I wave him inside, but I can’t find my voice to answer his question.

  He shuts the door softly behind us and I cross my arms over my bathrobe, look at him expectantly as I wait for him to give me the news.

  He doesn’t make me wait. “He’s okay,” he says.

  Every muscle in my body relaxes in relief, and I lean against the wall, my hands covering my face. I’m too exhausted to sob into them, but silent tears stream warm and heavy down my cheeks. A pair of strong arms gather me into him and he just holds me for a moment. A kind, gentle embrace. The only thing he can offer.