Dark Moon Falls: Volume 2

by Bella Roccaforte

  A smile cracked Ciaran’s lips and Delight waved from behind the counter, probably assuming he’d smiled at her. He grinned back then turned his attention back to the phone, logging the correct security details and using his fingerprint as well as the iris recognition which Frankie had installed in the operating system of the device.

  Ciaran’s eyes widened as he stared at the first document that popped up. Frankie had been right. This wasn’t your run-of-the-mill socialite on the hunt for personal protection to act out some stupid fantasy she’d read in a dirty romance novel.

  The document had been sent to Frankie from a governmental agency, and any questions Ciaran had regarding the how’s and why’s of it were pushed aside as he scanned the contents.

  The redheaded spitfire that he’d taken as a spoiled rich chick was an archeologist on the run from someone whose name made Ciaran’s blood go cold.

  Aldrich Mannheim.

  The woman, Leira Carmichael had stolen an artifact from the crooked dealer and needed protection from the asshole. Protection both for herself and the artifact. Ciaran frowned as he scanned the rest of the document. There was no detail on the identity of the relic—which would have been a whole lotta help in Ciaran’s eyes. But he had to admit that withholding the identity of the piece was also smart.

  The woman, Leira, did appear to understand how to keep her cards close to her chest. Either that, or Frankie’s contact who’d confirmed all the information also knew something that he wasn’t keen on sharing.

  Ciaran sat back, staring into space as his mind rifled through what he’d learned. She’d stolen something from a dangerous man, and she was on the run, her life in danger.

  And Ciaran had simply thrown her out of the diner.

  Fuck.

  That was brilliant work. Ciaran wanted to kick himself now, and from the way his wolf was writhing inside him, he could tell it was none too happy with him either. Ciaran had seen something in the redhead that had gone beyond his initial label of her as a rich spoiled socialite. But he hadn’t listened to his instinct.

  Ciaran prided himself on his instinct. Yes, his wolf species gave him a leg up on the simple human contractors out there, but he also has something else, something that had come through for him every single time. A certain instinctive knowing when something was wrong. Almost a premonitory ability, though that wasn’t something he’d spent too much time thinking about.

  7

  Leira

  The scent of strong coffee surrounded Leira, and she surrendered to the calm of the aroma, allowing herself to take a deep breath and relax her shoulders. She’d been driving for ages and then had her little run-in with Mr DarkSecure2k who only added to her tension.

  Even as the coffee soothed her, the aroma also managed to kick her awareness levels into overdrive. She had to force herself to take a slow breath, knowing the potential of things to go badly wrong if she lost control of her powers.

  The warm honeyed scent of baked goods drifted toward her from the counter, and around her groups of people clustered around tables or simply stood around waiting for their orders.

  Soft laughter and a symphony of voices melded together enough to reassure her that her panic was unwarranted. The coffeehouse appeared to be just as busy as the diner, though she suspected the waitress would take a few minutes to get to her.

  Leira wriggled in the seat, getting comfortable as she surveyed the coffeehouse, trying to get a feel for the people who lived here in this beautiful little town.

  It was clear enough that at least a third of the patrons were unmistakably tourists, many simply clones of the patrons at the diner, eyes alight with excitement or disinterest, some chattered about making plans to wander along the trails around the mountains surrounding the town, others deciding to find the nearest falls or the local swimming spots.

  Leira wished she could be as carefree as they appeared as they made plans, arguing about who was going to do what the next day. She looked around her and studied the counter where the line for coffees and food had grown so much shorter in the time that she had taken her seat. The baristas seemed super-efficient and friendly too as they called out the prepared orders.

  She was very grateful that the waitress had taken pity on her and allowed her to seat herself before placing her order. Leira hadn’t seen any signs claiming they didn’t do table service, so hopefully no rules were broken. There hadn’t been any irate customers unhappy with preferential treatment though, which was a good sign.

  Must be her lucky day.

  At the back of the counter were fat roughly woven hessian bags and Leira was pleasantly surprised to find that the coffeeshop was selling their own special brand of roasted beans.

  She wasn’t certain why but just the sight of the stacked sacks seemed to make her feel so much calmer. Then she laughed at herself, not aloud though because then she’d have looked crazy.

  What was she thinking? Just because a coffeeshop appeared to be nothing other than a coffee shop in that everything from coffee to food to customers looked normal, didn’t guarantee that she had a chance at ever having a normal life again.

  For the first time, as she sat cocooned by the sounds of the coffee shop clatter, Leira found herself facing the possibility that she may not ever be able to go back home, that she may not ever be able to go back to work. Leira loved her job. The last thing she would ever have wanted was to leave her position at the museum, especially under a cloud of a theft charge.

  She knew that they would likely point a finger at her, find a good enough reason to blame her, then wash their hands of her. But something told her that the relic was far too important for the curators and the Trust in charge of the museum to simply report the theft to the police and then forget about holding her accountable or at the very least finding the book. Even if Aldrich was looking for her, she was pretty sure the museum would also send someone after her.

  What in the hell had she been thinking? That she could get away with this and go back after a while with a nice neat explanation? And would they really care if she swore that all she was doing was keeping the book safe from Aldrich’s grubby hands?

  And she had to face the fact that she'd left him behind where he could make anything up to convince her employers that she was the bad guy. Who knew what stories he would be spinning about her in order to vindicate himself?

  Still, would Aldrich really want someone else on her tail, likely thwarting him in his race to take back the relic? He wanted to find her first. He wouldn’t risk that they would get her before him, so perhaps he would be covering for her instead, buy himself time to capture her first.

  Leira had just decided that arguing with herself wouldn’t help her at all when her phone buzzed with a mail notification. She frowned as she fumbled for the cellphone inside the pockets of her backpack. She always forgot where she left stuff and ended up frantically searching for something that hadn’t even been missing in the first place.

  Then she froze as her fingers grazed the phone.

  Aldrich wouldn’t have the new number, so he won’t be able to message her. She had downloaded her mail app and this notification was probably simply for new mail. If anything, it was more likely to be a formal warning from the museum director.

  Given that she’d been too afraid to download her messaging app, she had just left it that way, deciding she really didn’t need to check her messages especially considering she’d only be endangering her friends and coworkers by remaining in contact with them. But her curiosity would get the better of her eventually, that much she was sure of. She’d wait until Ivan had verified her devices were safe before she checked the app.

  For now, she scanned the screen and swiped down to check the message preview, and her heart went still. She remained unmoving, not even blinking or breathing as she felt the world closing in on her.

  The sounds of coffee cups clinking, of low conversation and lilting laughter all began to suffocate her, seeming to want to suck the breath out of her
lungs.

  Tears pooled in her eyes as she tapped on the mail app, her actions on automatic, to check what the rest of the email had said. Even as she opened the app, something deep within her screamed she wasn’t going to find any email.

  So much for manifesting what one desired.

  But she wasn’t interested in manifestation. Right now, all she wanted was someone to come over and yell “You’ve been Punked,” and for everything to go back to normal after that.

  But nothing was normal. Nothing would ever be normal.

  How in the world had he been able to get through to her phone? Hadn't Ivan promised her the phone was secure? He knew what he was doing, and she trusted in both his skills and his loyalty. He was probably the most talented hacker she knew so how come Aldrich had managed to get right around his protocols?

  Her head felt hot and her ears were ringing, and even when she sensed someone approaching, she didn't look up, hoping she would be able to blink away the tears quickly, to compose herself so nobody would notice that she was precariously on the edge of totally losing her shit.

  Someone stopped in front of the table and she had no choice but to look up, feeling an intense shame to know that the woman saw the tears in eyes. She forced a smile onto her face prepared, for the inevitable overly chatty interrogation. But the young woman did nothing of the sort. She only smiled wider, then eyed Leira over the top of her notepad.

  “So what's your fancy?”

  Leira smiled weakly. “What do you recommend? Extra strong, a little sweetness, lots of cream.”

  The waitress grinned. “I have just the thing for you. I was just experimenting with a new recipe.”

  Leira nodded happily, the woman’s demeanor having put her at ease. “That sounds perfect to me. Any suggestions on which pastries are the best on offer?” Leira asked.

  “We just got a double-chocolate caramel fudge cake in. I’m positive it’s going to perfect. You look just like a double-chocolate-caramel-fudge-cake kind of girl.”

  Leira giggled, the woman’s words so presumptuous yet spoken with utter cheerful laughter in her eyes. Leira happily agreed and the waitress left to get her order.

  Moments later, Leira was sitting at the table alone, her mind back on the message that wasn't a message. Despite how pleasant the woman had been, Leira’s mood seemed to still be blanketed in the clouds of gloom and fear.

  She was blinking away another bout of tears when someone else approached her table. She didn't look up at whoever the person was, willing them to keep moving unless they were bringing her order. When the person reached for the chair opposite her, dragging it away to take a seat without permission, Leira flinched and snapped her gaze up.

  DarkSecure2k.

  The man had had the audacity to follow her. She wasn’t sure whether she should be afraid, and she was curious as to why he’d believed it was acceptable to stalk her. She’d been really pretty clear that she wasn't interested in hiring him.

  But actually, he was the one who had made clear that he wasn't interested in protecting a spoiled socialite.

  She was still furious with the man’s attitude and she had every intention on telling him to go to hell. But now, the way he was looking at her, he unsettled her a whole lot more than she was willing to admit. She’d been curious what he was going to say to her but the words that came out of his mouth were completely unexpected.

  “Why are you crying?”

  8

  Ciaran

  Ciaran was staring at the entrance to the diner where he’d last seen the redhead disappear. His phone buzzed again and he glared at Frankie’s number before he answered.

  “Yeah. Fine. I see what you mean. But I’m going to have to deal with you later Frankie. You may have compromised my identity.”

  Frankie snorted. “And is that how little credit you give me?” he asked, sounding more than a bit miffed.

  Ciaran rolled his eyes. The kid had the cheek to be upset when he’d been the one to play stupid games in the first place? Ciaran shook his head and focused. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

  Frankie cleared his throat. “We get her somewhere safer then make a more secure plan. And do it while not on the phone.”

  Ciaran snorted. “I wonder why,” he said, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. “I know where to take her.”

  “Yep. An apple and a pear tree?” Frankie asked.

  “Yeah. I’ll meet you there.”

  The hacker cut the call leaving Ciaran alone with his thoughts. A shadow passed his table and he looked up as he caught a familiar scent. Sheriff Barnett, Beta of the pack, had come to stand at his table, the man’s expression warped with concern.

  “You doing okay there, bud?”

  Ciaran shook his head. “Not particularly. We had a bit of a security problem. I’ll fill you in when I get more details but for now, we probably need to keep a closer eye on the town, watch for strangers.”

  The man nodded, looping his thumbs into his jeans. “Must be something in the air.” There was an odd expression in his eyes and Ciaran frowned.

  “Meaning?” Ciaran asked, his entire body tensing, expecting bad news.

  Barnett shook his head. “Just that you’re not the first person lately to tell me that.”

  “We got someone else here in Dark Moon Falls we should be keeping an eye on?”

  The sheriff eyed him for a moment. “Let’s just say it’s possible and that we all need to be watchful. I’ll update everyone as soon as the Alpha gives the okay.” Then he paused and studied Ciaran for a moment. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say your case has nothing to do with the one we have currently going on.”

  Ciaran smirked. “Probably not. I’ll give you a rundown as soon as I have all my ducks in a row.”

  “Don’t wait too long.” Barnett tipped his head and looked about to walk off when he hesitated. He turned back to Ciaran and focused on his eyes. “I heard a rumor that you’re thinking of retiring.”

  Ciaran let out a low groan. “One would think it would be possible to think something without having the entire town already reading your mind.”

  The Beta snickered. “Dude, do you even remember where you live?” The pair laughed for a few seconds before he said, “It’s a worry if you feel you’re no longer in the market for work. If you decide you’re no longer working private jobs, just let us know. There’ll be a bit of a line waiting to have a chat with you.”

  Ciaran nodded and gave the man a thin smile. That was exactly what he’d been wanting to avoid. He wanted everyone to leave him alone. Wanted them all to stop treating him with kid gloves because he was growing old with zero signs of finding a mate.

  Now Ciaran nodded and grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind, Barnett.”

  The Beta smiled and walked off, his saunter almost too proud. The man clearly believed he’d managed to convince Ciaran. He probably thought the DMF police were now at the head of the line.

  But Ciaran knew better. The Hunters and the pack Alpha were both way ahead of the local police force. Which made Ciaran tense. He’d rather have them off his back for a while, and he’d have to come up with some sort of plan to avoid any specific obligation that came too soon. He was going to have another bone to pick with Frankie because he was almost sure that it was the hacker who would have begun to spread the word.

  The kid’s heart was in the right place of course. He’d likely been asking around so he can be sure that Ciaran would have work to do after officially retiring. What Frankie didn’t understand is the position Ciaran was in made it all too hard to hang out with his brothers in the pack, whether socially or professionally.

  Slowly, over the last decade his pack brothers had begun to pair themselves off, finding their soulmates one after the other. Everywhere he looked were couples getting married, wives having babies, parents caring for a small brood. Even teenagers.

  The teens reminded Ciaran how long he’d been waiting. The Goddess knew what she was doing. He had to pray that
she did. Perhaps she believed Ciaran was best alone. Maybe she had other plans for him. Whatever it was, he had to trust in her. But he hoped he’d have some time to himself to come to terms with the status of his married life.

  Something he was afraid his brothers and friends would not give him the time to do. In their need to help make him feel better, they would be making him feel worse and he didn’t have the heart to tell them that every time they reached out or came over, they brought him pain.

  Was he being self-centered? Self-pitying? Maybe he was. But Ciaran couldn’t shake the feelings off and for now he resorted to compartmentalizing his emotions.

  Ciaran studied the empty coffee cup, the black dregs almost accusatory against the white china cup. He shook his head and stood, gathering his phone and keys. The envelope on the table reminded him how close he’d been to putting a client’s life in danger.

  Now, Ciaran moved swiftly and with purpose, his spine straight, muscles taut, and when he looked up to see Delight’s stern glare focused on him, he wasn’t surprised when her expression shifted to one of understanding. He hadn’t ordered anything, which would naturally upset the woman. She seemed to believe it was her duty to ensure he was well fed. And by that he meant overfed. The diner was well known for serving portions well-suited to the somewhat larger appetites of the wolf shifters in town.

  Around him, the place still buzzed with the low excited energy of people ready to head out and explore the unknown. He wished he had that kind of freedom and light-heartedness. Ciaran was passing the counter when Delight slid between two of her waitresses who were busy grabbing plates of steak and mashed potatoes and super-sized burgers from the cook.