After the Moon Rises (11 page)

Running at full speed, she passed the tiny nursing enclave, the small indention in the wall. Empty now, it held a computer, a chair and a keypad with a big red button on the wall. Margie screeched to a halt, pivoting an about-face as she rushed back to the desk. Her father had the foresight to build these tunnels, but her mother had the foresight to lock them down. Margie slapped a hand over the button and heard the satisfying click of locks. Two breaths later, she heard another howl, this one from the direction of the stairs.

Margie stalked toward the stairs. Why run? Landa was going nowhere and neither was Zane. She mentally shredded the don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy the closer she got to Landa. The frantic pounding of fists against steel echoed down the stairs, joined by a suffocating stench of fear. Something petrified Landa and Margie had an awful suspicion it was Zane. Something about her new guest frightened her newest pack member and it sure as hell wasn’t his rugged good looks.

Near the top, she saw Landa pounding on the door, her breath coming in small pants.

“Landa?”

The little blonde spun, eyes rolling white in their sockets, her hands held in front of her body. “Please, alpha, please don’t make me go with him. Please, I beg of you. I’ll do anything.”

“Calm down and tell me what’s going on.”

“He’s one of Sid’s enforcers. I can’t go back there, I can’t!” Her voice rose, high-pitched and frantic.

Sid? Margie tried to remember all the alphas in North America that she had either met or heard about and drew a big blank. Who the hell was Sid? “Is he the one that gave you the scar?”

Landa’s left hand touched her throat. “Yes. He used magic to lock the band around my neck. Please don’t make me go back.”

As if that was an option.

“Do you seriously think that I would turn you over to him?”

Landa’s lids did a slow open and shut. “You don’t know Sid.”

“You’re right, I don’t. But I do know that no pack member of mine is going to be torn away without a fight. What kind of a leader would I be if I just rolled over and let him take you?”

A flicker of surprise crossed Landa’s face before she dropped to her knees. “Alpha, I meant you no disrespect. Sid’s ... well, he’s the most frightening thing I know.”

Thing, eh? Guess that said a lot about the mysterious Sid. She really wanted to know who the hell this Sid guy was. Stop the presses, it was her lucky day. She had two people here who would tell her.

Laying a hand on Landa’s shoulder, Margie squatted in front of the little blonde. “Why don’t we go somewhere and talk?”

Bang
! Metal rasped against metal, the noise warping through the hall and stairwell. Landa started shaking, one hand pressed against the scar at her throat. Margie rose to her feet. Apparently, the locked-down alpha was giving freedom an attempt.
Shit
.

Leaning around Landa, she punched the code in the keypad next to the door.

When the door unlocked, she helped Landa to her feet and gave her a little push through the doorway. “Landa, go find Allen and Big G and send them back here. Then go to my office and wait for me. Do you understand?”

Landa nodded. “I’ll wait for you.”

“Good. We are past due for a talk.”

At the push of a button, the lock engaged, the pleasant sound of a bolt slamming home reverberating in her ears. Margie took in a deep breath and let it out. Being an alpha had its challenges, but this one presented the hardest challenge of her tenure.

The mate she’d never wanted terrorized her newest pack member simply by being the enforcer of a magic-crazed alpha she’d never met or heard of. Like they discussed this situation in the alpha handbook.

Crash
!
Bang
! If she didn’t stop him, he’d destroy her infirmary. Margie jogged down the stairs and ran toward Zane’s room, stopping at the nursing station. Using the code and keypad, she unlocked the double doors leading to the infirmary wing and Zane, leaving the main door at the top of the stairs locked. To get into the wing, Allen would need to enter the code on the other side of the main door.
Wasn’t security wonderful
?

Deep breath in, think calm thoughts
. She pushed through the double doors, stopping in front of the alpha’s room. It was now or never. She banged on the metal door.

“Hey, in there. I’m going to open the door. Don’t even think about taking me down.” As if he could. If she knew he was her mate, she assumed he could sense she was his. And mates would never hurt each other. Although if he wanted to take her down and sex her senseless she wouldn’t oppose him.

Pull it together Margie! How can you think of sex at a time like this?

She shook her head—who would have thought meeting her mate would cause sexual thoughts to overwhelm her common sense—and rapped on the door. “Do you hear me?”

“I do. Why am I locked in?”

She liked his voice. Maybe she could get him to speak more just to hear the melodious rumble as it crossed her skin. By the saints, what was she thinking?
Hello, Margie, pull your head out of your hormones and channel your inner alpha.

After she pushed the code into the keypad, she turned the knob and pushed open the door. Spilled soup lay in twisting rivulets across the floor, flowing from the broken bowl. Zane stood in front of the bed, arms crossed, completely naked with the exception of a silver torc around his neck. Oh yeah, she could get used to the eye candy. It was impressive.

Eye contact, Margie, eye contact.

Like meeting his eyes helped. Black brows and thick lashes framed amber eyes that gleamed with questions. Sleep-tussled hair hung in waves to his shoulders. Above a white bandage wrapped around his middle, tight curls dusted his chest and below the bandage the curls led in a trail from his navel to...

Eyes, Margie, eyes.

And while she was at it, she might as well wipe the blush off her face, which was easier thought than done.

“I’m Margie McLean, London’s pack leader.”

“Nice meeting you. I’m Zane Moskos, but you already know that, right?”

“Allen told me. Sorry about the lockdown. I had an issue I needed to deal with. Perhaps you’d be more comfortable sitting?” As if an alpha male, even one wounded, would take her up on the offer.

He remained standing, his gaze raking over her body. A tilt of his lips promised bliss from a male who knew what he wanted and how to get it. If Big G and Allen didn’t hurry up, her hormones would have their way with Zane.

“How long has Landa been here?”

“How do you know her?”

Zane ran a hand through his hair, wincing as his arm rose. “I was sent to find and capture her.”

Chapter Three

Margie’s eyes narrowed and Zane felt the twisting tendrils of her anger wrap around him. Even pissed off she was the best thing he’d ever seen, although that must be mating hormones talking since nothing about her was his type. She stood around six feet tall with short brown hair cropped chin length and large eyes the color of good Scotch. He wanted to drink in her scent, to drag her beneath him and prove to her he was her alpha.

Oh, wait. He couldn’t prove anything with Sid’s damn torc on. The spell weaved into the twisted silver ensured the wearer’s magic remained trapped, locked away, useless. Born an alpha, the torc reduced him to a beta. A beta with an alpha’s scent and strength and none of his powers. The only way to get the thing off his neck was through death, his or Sid’s.

And he sure as fuck wasn’t dying anytime soon.

“Well now. If that’s true, it seems you and I have a problem.”

Yeah? Ya think?
“Do we?”

“I’m not giving you Landa. She’s part of my pack now. And I guard what’s mine.”

He’d like in on a little of that guarding action. “I said I was sent to find and capture her, not that I wanted to.”

“Great! Then just say no and leave her here in peace.”

He’d like nothing more than to do just that, but Sid held his sister as collateral, thereby ensuring he’d return. Prey in hand. The bastard.

“As much as I’d love to do that, I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t.”

“Well, then. We’re back to our problem.”

He shrugged and stared at her, liking the way her hair brushed her jaw, noting the muscles twitching in her legs under her jeans. Maybe she was thinking of giving him a kick in the ass with those steel-toed shit-kickers she wore.

He didn’t really blame her.

He wanted to kick himself in the ass.

“Is it true what they say about you?”

One eyebrow cocked a droll tune. “What? That I’m a hard-nosed bitch?”

“Nope. That you know a bit of magic.”

Well, didn’t that deflate the wind out of her sails. If her face got any paler, she’d pass for a ghost. Her eyes widened as they met his gaze. A flash of fear sparked and dissipated. “What makes you think I’d know anything about magic?”

Not a thing like Sid. Sid enjoyed lording his magical abilities over others. Margie seemed to hide from hers. Provided she had any. Maybe the rumors he heard were wrong.

“When I got close to London, Montana, a few people started describing how you knew some magic. The magic alpha bitch, I believe it was said.”

“Who—” Her voice squeaked and she cleared it. “Who said that?”

Zane shrugged. “Some drunk were at a bar in Billings.”

“Oh, that’s just great.” One hand ran through her hair, ruffling it. She started pacing in front of him, over to the soup mess, back to the clean floor, again to the soup. The same hand ran another stroke through her hair. “Why does Sid want Landa so badly?”

Zane heard his teeth click together, his jaw clenched so hard. He pictured his sister, Zenia, as he’d last seen her, the band Landa had worn clamped around her neck, her eyes full of pain and fear. “He’s a sick son of a bitch. He sees a female he wants and he takes her. Keeps her caged like a dog, collar and all. Somehow Landa escaped. Sid wants her back.”

“What kind of sick person are you to take a female back to those types of conditions?” Her eyes narrowed, the glare she gave him piercing like a spear.

“Unless you have magical abilities and want to help me take this thing off, I don’t have a choice.” Sticking a finger through his torc, he pulled, the metal biting into his neck. “This damn thing ensures I stay nothing more than a lackey. Until I get rid of it, I have no choice. If I don’t come back with Landa, Sid will torture my sister, my twin. What would you do?”

Margie’s brows shot upward, but before she could answer, the metallic click of security doors opening followed by heavy footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Well, well, what do we have here? How you doing, Zane?” Allen strode into the room like he owned the place—which he probably did seeing they stood in the infirmary.

Zane took a deep breath, trying to shove the anger down. He needed Margie to take the fucking torc off his neck so he could man-up and grow the alpha pair he’d been born with. And he was doing a piss-poor job of convincing her.

He glared at Allen, until he got a look-see at what came in the door behind the vet-doctor. The mountain of a were had a shaved head, tats on his neck, arms, and knuckles, and who the hell knew where else, and a don’t-fuck-with-me expression on his face.

Like that was an option.

Impressive.

So this was who carried him from the woods to his current residence. A skinhead giant on steroids. Without a doubt one of Margie’s enforcers.

“Fine.” The word spat off his tongue.

“Zane needs his bandage checked and he needs to stay down here until I can figure out what to do about this whole thing.” Margie gestured around the room.

The giant cracked a shit-eating smile and popped his knuckles. “I’ll be happy to take care of him.”

“Just make sure he stays in the room, Big G. Don’t touch him unless he tries to leave.”

The grin disappeared on a sigh. “As you wish, alpha.”

“Hey—”

“Don’t worry, Zane. I’ll be back for you. And somebody find the cleaning staff to clean up this mess.” She pointed to the spilled soup and marched out the door.

If his jaw got any more tense, it would snap in half.

Allen slapped a palm against his shoulder. “Don’t worry, pal. She’ll be back. On second thought, maybe you should worry about that. She looked like she just stepped in a cow patty.”

And the shit’s name was Zane.

What a way to meet his mate.

****

Could this day get any worse? Had her mate truly aligned himself with an alpha who aspired to be the were equivalent of Hitler? If she helped Zane, what would happen to her and her pack? Who else had this problem that she could turn to for advice? Someone, anyone? Like the answer was suddenly going to pop into her head.
Nope
. She was on her own.

Situations like this made her hate being an alpha.

No time for a pity party. If she wanted to make a decision, she needed all the facts. And part of those facts sat upstairs in her office.

Margie hit the stairs leading out of the underground infirmary two at a time and slammed her hands against the release bar of the door. Which did absolutely nothing. Looked like Allen had locked the door behind him.

Yet another reason to like that vet-doctor.

After a punch of the code, she bolted through the door into the staff hallway of the main ranch house. Three doors down and there was her office, Landa parked in one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. Her head turned as Margie slammed the door shut and strode across the room.

With any luck Landa’s speech would sway her one way or another. Because as it stood now, she wavered between helping Zane rid himself of the torc—assuming he told the truth about that piece of neckwear—and telling him what he could do with the thing.

Have a mate or save her pack from danger.

What a choice.

Taking a seat in her leather swivel chair, she propped her boots on the desk and crossed her arms. “Talk.”

Landa gulped and clasped her hands so tight, Margie heard the knuckles crack. Pity for the wolf warred with the knowledge her pack might be in danger due to whatever happened in Landa’s past.