Dark Moon Falls: Volume 2

by Bella Roccaforte

  Leira was furious now but she was also afraid. Heat simmered around her head and she knew she had to contain it or else this man would sense something was up. He’d already sniffed the air between them twice and she had to wonder if he was some type of shifter or other paranormal.

  Not so unusual for someone who specialized in security. But, his species was of no concern to her. As long as he was able to fulfill the role, she didn’t care if he was half rhino or half duck. Then the image made her want to laugh but she bit the amusement down. Not practical to appear borderline hysterical in front of the person she needed to protect her.

  But then again it shouldn’t matter to him, should it? As long as he can do his damned job it shouldn’t matter even if she was the serial killer.

  Now there was a thought.

  Leira bit her lip wondering how he was going to react to her question.

  Then he said, “I’m afraid I cannot provide you with a quote until I have more information.”

  “More information?” she whispered, leaning forward again. “What information do you need? You keep me safe, I pay you as long as I stay alive.”

  Her words made his eyes widen. “Your life is in danger?”

  Leira’s eyes narrowed as she studied the man’s face. Something appeared to be off about his reaction, his words, his questions. “Why else would I be posting a fracking ad on the Dark Web?” she whispered.

  His eyebrows curved, eyes going pale still, almost silver now. “You posted this ad on the Dark Web?”

  Leira held back the urge to snort. “Yes. That’s just what I said.”

  Maybe she did have the wrong guy. Right now, her security specialist didn’t sound smart enough to protect himself from a mosquito.

  4

  Ciaran

  Ciaran’s head was thrumming to the rhythm of his heartbeat. He’d never felt so out of depth before. His wolf was restless, growling as though alerted to something. A danger perhaps?

  But he didn’t see a danger. All he saw was a woman who appeared confused as to who he was. A woman who was looking for someone to protect her. A woman who knew his Dark Web handle.

  He steeled himself against shaking his head in case she took it the wrong way. He’d seen the fear in her eyes, fear and something else. Was it guilt? Her scent was strange too, and her heart was racing.

  Had he frightened her or simply pissed her off? From the fire in her eyes, he figured she was more mad than afraid at this point.

  He nodded then glanced at the black envelope. The color was important and though he was beginning to suspect that Frankie had pulled a fast one over on him, he opened the envelope and inspected the contents.

  A folded letter slid out first and he opened it, scanning Frankie’s message. He was going to kill the kid when he got his hands on him.

  Sorry Ciaran. She needed a security expert and I know you don’t do damsels in distress or rich socialites but this one needs someone smart and knowledgeable and strong. Check out the file and give me a call. Once you get her to a safe place, call me and we can figure out how to handle making the safehouse tech-secure.

  Ciaran tapped the table then read the letter again. Frankie’s got an ass-kicking in his future. The kid knew well enough that Ciaran wanted out of the business. That he was jaded and tired and drained and needed a breather. Or a career change.

  But this kind of trick was beyond forgiveness. Frankie had set him up to protect some rich socialite fleeing from who? A husband? Parents? Who bloody well cared? He didn’t deal with stupid shit like this. He had better things to do with his time.

  He glanced up, sensing her eyes on him, and he caught her expression. She was uncertain, and angry. Had she read his reluctance in his face or his stance? He said nothing, simply opened the file.

  Another sheet of paper sat inside with a message written in the center. CODE 3

  Ciaran stiffened.

  Code 3 was a threat to life as well as a possible extended threat to the safety of the general public.

  There was nothing else inside the envelop. Which was both frustrating and telling. As much as Ciaran wanted to know the full deal, Frankie had felt it best to only provide the code. A silent message to say that the information regarding the fiery woman sitting across from him was sensitive and life-threatening enough that the hacker had chosen to refrain from leaving pertinent information in the file.

  Yes, Ciaran was frustrated with the whole song and dance of it. Table by the window, red vase with a poppy. Be there at 11am on the dot.

  But there was something else to this whole charade, something that Code 3 hinted at being little more than just protecting a rich spoiled brat. He sighed and sat back. “I am DarkSecure2k but I have to admit I’m a little thrown. I didn’t respond to your ad.”

  “What?” she whispered, her scent changing quickly, edged now with fear. She sat back, then slowly began to rise and reach for her backpack. “I have to go.”

  “No. Please don’t. I think I know what this is so just give me a chance to explain.”

  She hesitated now, having already gotten to her feet. She studied his face for a few moments then said, “Please don’t waste my time.” Then she said slowly, returning the bag to the floor before leaning closer to the poppy. “If you’re messing me around and I do end up dead, I promise I will come back and make your life miserable.”

  Ciaran chuckled and nodded. “I think that’s fair.” When she didn’t reply, and instead simply raised her eyebrows as the silences stretched between them, he cleared his throat. “I run a security company so I am suited to your requirements. I’m sorry for the confusion and for making you uncomfortable. I have a friend who seems to think he’s damned funny.”

  “So you really didn’t apply?”

  He shook his head. “I’d mentioned a few times that I wanted out of the business. Been at it for a long time. I think a friend of mine might have known that had he asked me to take the job, I would have said no.”

  She nodded slowly, her expression shifting to emotionless. “I see. Well then. I’m sorry he wasted your time. Can I know what in particular about my case repels you?”

  Her tone was sharp and cutting and Ciaran felt a little bad for being so direct. “I apologize. I didn’t mean it that way. I only meant to say that I don’t work as a bodyguard even if it’s for people with family money to throw around.”

  The woman’s eyebrows curved and her eyes flared with what looked like flames. Ciaran was sure he’d imagined it but he was too busy cursing himself for making it worse. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  She got to her feet then, her eyes cold and aloof as she reached for her rucksack. “I apologize for wasting your time.” Tugging her heavy bag onto one shoulder, she stalked off and Ciaran could have sworn he’d felt a rush of hot air pass him by as she hurried to the entrance without looking back.

  He frowned and watched her go. No surprise with these snooty, spoiled types. As soon as they don’t get their way, of course they run off expecting you to rush after them with apologies and then you have to bend to their will.

  He shook his head, glad he wouldn’t be bothered with her case. Still, he couldn’t deny that something about her didn’t sit right, something was still bugging him and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

  5

  Leira

  Leira held her head high and kept her spine stiff as she stalked off toward the diner’s exit. A low hum of conversation rang around her, which should have made her feel less awkward. But it didn’t help.

  Her ears rang with fury and as she passed a table she spotted a pretty red poppy drying up, its bright ruby head falling forward and drooping over the mouth of the vase. Shoot. She was sending out heatwaves without even realizing it.

  That man had really riled her up. Thankfully, the couple at the table wasn’t paying the flower any attention and were instead focused on their phones, frowning as though something was bothering them—probably the internet. She’d noticed the reception
had been patchy all through her drive up to the remote town.

  Leira reached the door and paused, too late realizing she hadn’t paid for her coffee. But, for some reason, she didn’t care. What was the point now to turn around and find the waitress so she could settle her coffee bill? Surely since he’d been such a dick, Mr DarkSecure2k could damn well pick up the check.

  She shoved the door open and blinked in the sunlight, then swerved quickly, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision with a passer-by.

  What the hell was his problem? And worse still why had he managed to get under her skin? The way she’d been reacting when she’d been close to him, you’d have thought she’d been about to explode. Especially if you counted the whole killing-of-the-poppies thing. She didn’t even want to check the rest of the tables out to see if she’d murdered any more innocent blooms.

  Leira gripped tightly onto the strap of her rucksack and raised her hand to shade her eyes against the sun as she scanned the street. She was supremely aware of the contents of her bag, of the stolen property she was carrying around with her and, at the same time, equally frustrated that she’d not found the safety she’d come to Dark Moon Falls for.

  Now she needed to get herself some place to hole up in and then contact Ivan. He wasn’t going to be happy to discover she’d failed in her search. He’d be annoyed too, since he’d appeared dead certain this particular application would pan out for her. Her stomach growled loudly and she sighed, frustrated. She’d been starving when she’d entered the diner to begin with and the coffee had simply deepened her hunger.

  Not only had the guy robbed her of the possibility of finally finding safety, of at last feeling comfortable to relax a little—because she had someone to trust who would watch her back for her—he’d also stolen her opportunity to grab a bite to eat. And considering how starved she was, even the thought of it made her furious.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the entrance to Delight’s Diner where a gaggle of teenagers were arguing about whose drink had tasted the best, their voices carrying along the street and drawing zero attention. She really ought to go back and get some food, overbearing security specialists be damned. She’d seen the tables around her where patrons had been digging into plates of eggs and bacon, waffles and pancakes and even steak and chips. She’d been teased by all the deliciousness on offer.

  The more she thought about food, the hungrier she became. And the longer she remained hungry, the higher the likelihood that she’d end up with a headache. The power that simmered within her veins took a toll on her body which meant she needed to eat regularly, and more especially in the wake of having expended so much of her energy while attempting to murder innocent flowers. She had to replace her reserves, and soon.

  But her feet appeared stuck to the sidewalk. He was still inside, and still sitting at their table, from what she could see from where she now stood. She caught sight of his shoulder and elbow as he shifted in his seat, then he moved and his cheek and the side of his dark head moved into the sunlight. She had eyes, could see what had attracted her to him in the first place. But she really did not want to run into him again. She’d rather starve.

  Maybe.

  Again she scanned the street, not sure if there were any other eateries in the little town. The small writeup she’d seen online before she’d headed out to Dark Moon Falls had only confirmed to her what a cute little place it was. Cute and secluded.

  Without easy access to the internet she hadn’t been able to check out the local eateries when she’d arrived. Not that Dark Moon Falls was overrun by eating establishments. Still, there were enough tourists on the road to reassure her that Delight’s wasn’t the only place to find food.

  Up ahead she spotted groups of people walking along the sidewalk carrying cups of coffee, some bearing a cup-holder containing three or four takeout containers, the logo a little too small to make out from this distance. The coffee drinkers appeared to be leaving in various direction, originating from a spot up the main street, so she decided it was her best bet right now.

  Coffee shops were sure to have food.

  Mentally crossing her fingers, she hurried along the sidewalk, closing in on the coffee shop, knuckles white as she held tight to her knapsack. The last thing she needed was for its precious contents to be stolen.

  The sight of the Hot Joy Cafe made Leira feel like she’d caught sight of heaven, and it distracted her enough that she had to remind herself that running into a cafe and screaming out her order in utter desperation was not a good look. In the end, she remained demure and composed as she entered the coffeehouse and inhaled the aromas and scanned the menu.

  The selection of cakes and pastries was impressive and she took her place in line and waited to make her order, setting her backpack on the floor in front of her.

  The woman at the counter waved at Leira and pointed to an empty table across the room. “Take a seat. I’ll come get your order.” Her smile was bright and Leira had to curb the urge to look over her shoulder to confirm if the waitress was actually speaking to her.

  She smiled and waved her thanks then grabbed her rucksack and lugged it over to the available seat. The damned thing seemed to be getting heavier by the minute.

  6

  Ciaran

  Ciaran watched the redheaded witch stalk out of the diner. How was it even possible that she could keep her spine that straight given that she was lugging that backpack of hers around like her life depended on it?

  His gut twisted as he recalled the expression on her face when he’d declined the job. She’d appeared hurt and almost betrayed. Then he shook his head. Why should he even care? Surely she had enough money and influence to hire someone else. Especially when she was already so experienced as to find a security specialist on the Dark Web.

  A small voice inside him said that she’d done a dangerous thing to begin with, and she’d been lucky to get him—thanks to Frankie of course. What if she went back in search of someone and found one of those assholes who were shady as fuck? What if she got herself in trouble? If she was as naive as she’d appeared to be, meeting some random stranger in a cafe for instance, then she was bound to end up in deep trouble any day now.

  But he pushed aside the voice. He didn’t cater to spoiled rich chicks. He’d had enough of them for a lifetime. And the longer he spent wondering where his life was really headed, the crankier he was going to get.

  He shook his head. This was ridiculous. He’d been relieved to see her leave but now he was concerned she’d get herself in deeper shit? What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he even care what happened to her? He was done with her and that was that.

  Now he had to deal with Frankie, the little asshole. What had he been thinking?

  The redhead disappeared out the glass doors and onto the sidewalk and Ciaran watched her go, still analyzing his weird mixed emotions.

  Almost as though the hacker had hacked Ciaran’s mind, his phone began to vibrate on the table. He grabbed it and swiped to answer. “Frankie? You’ll be happy to know your little game didn’t pan out. I sent the snooty socialite packing. What the fuck did you get me—?”

  Frankie cut him off. “What the hell are you doing you idiot?” Frankie’s voice roared down the line. “She’s in danger and you just let her leave? You’re supposed to be watching out for her!”

  Ciaran growled, aware that the low rumble drew curious looks from the nearby patrons. “Frankie? What the hell are you up to? Is this a game to you? Whatever this prank is, I think it’s time you called it off.”

  Frankie’s sigh was loud and crackling in Ciaran’s ear. “Dude. Okay, fine. It was a prank. But this lady needs help.”

  “Kid, you just pranked me. How can I believe anything you have to say right now?”

  The hacker groaned. “Okay, fine. I admit I didn’t think it through all that well. I saw the ad and thought of you. But, she’s legit. I checked it out.”

  Ciaran rolled his eyes. “Seriously? I thought this was t
he Dark Web? How does a snooty rich chick like her check out? How can you even tell?”

  Ciaran had dealt with numerous missions posted on various sites on the Dark Web but those he knew were legit from past experience. Years of experience. And suddenly this rich chick from nowhere checks out with one look from Frankie?

  “Frankie? Are you losing your touch?”

  Frankie snorted. “There are things called secret codes, dude. I do happen to have friends who know how to insert codes within an ad. That’s how I know she’s legit. Hold on.” Before Ciaran could give the hacker an earful, the line went silent, filled with a strange amalgamation of hissing crackles, and shuffling and few hollow thumps. Then the hacker was back, clearing his throat. “I’ve sent you a secure packet. You know the access code. Open it on the secure line. You’ll know what I mean when you read it.”

  Ciaran gritted his teeth as he waited a few seconds for the packet to arrive. He accessed his secure network, well aware that he was using his phone in a public place, but he was certain Frankie would have added a whole raft of security protocols to keep the information safe.

  He kept his real identity secret, so there weren’t likely many hackers sitting around at the diner’s tables waiting for Ciaran, to access his phone, but one never could be too sure.

  Which led him to another reason he was pissed off at Frankie. This was the first time the hacker had ever compromised Ciaran’s identity. If ever the kid received a tipoff that someone was on the lookout for security services, Ciaran would have been notified, and been provided with all the details to begin with. He’d have been given a choice: yay or nay.

  And he’d have made that choice only after doing his own background check on the person requiring his services.

  Usually, for what it was worth, those services were required by heads of state, diplomatic representatives, and governmental agencies who needed someone reliable and legitimate. This time, Frankie’s behavior was so out of character that Ciaran made a mental note to have the kid checked out in case there was a possible case of body snatching in Dark Moon Falls.