Beneath a Darkening Moon (20 page)

C
ADE STUDIED HER
for a long moment, then said slowly, “Nelle James gave you that outfit?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

Her voice held a mix of anger and defiance, and he smiled grimly. There was no need to reprimand her for her stupidity, because she was kicking herself hard enough. “Meaning she’s here in town?”

“I would have told you if she was,” she snapped, her green eyes flashing.

“Would you? I’m not so sure.” After all, how well did he actually know her? The report Oliver had given him had contained very little information, and she’d pretty much kept mum about personal details in the brief time they’d been together at Rosehall. The only thing he knew for sure was the fact that she and Nelle had been very close friends. And close friends didn’t rat each other out, did they?

“I’m a
ranger
,” she said, voice deceptively calm given how white her knuckles had suddenly become. “Don’t you ever accuse me of not doing my job properly!”

“I didn’t—”

“Then what the hell do you think making an accusation like that was?”

“I was trying to elicit an honest response, which I got.”

“Bastard!”

“I’m an IIS officer. That’s what we do.” He reached into his jacket pocket for his cell phone. “Why don’t you go talk to Denny while I see if I can track down that truck?”

She stared at him for a second or two, her fingers flexing, as if debating whether to slug him or salute him. In the end she did neither. She simply shoved the wig back on before walking away. He called Anton, but as he waited, his gaze was drawn to the enticing sway of her hips as she stalked toward the club. There was, he noted with amusement, something very alluring about the way a woman walked when she was angry.

“Hey, boss,” Anton said, by way of hello. “What’s up?”

“I want you to head up to Main Street and cruise around for a dark blue truck being driven by a blonde in a short skirt and a white tube top. She’d be in her early to mid-twenties.”

“Not exactly an unpleasant task.” He paused, and Cade heard the sound of keys jingling and the quick murmur of conversation before a door slammed. “Why are we looking for the blonde?”

“She was the woman who apparently asked the kid to leave the note on Ranger Grant’s windshield.”

“And she spotted you? Dressed as you were?”

“It’s a long story. So, what’s Trista doing?”

“Going back through the files, like you asked.”

“Good. Give me a call if you spot the blonde, but don’t pull her over. Just tail her.”

“Will do.”

Cade hung up and called Trista, asking her to come down to the club’s parking lot with her crime scene kit. Given the stench of burned rubber when the truck had taken off, there would surely be skid marks. Even if they couldn’t pick up the tread pattern, they’d at least get an idea of tire width, which, in turn, might give them some idea if the tracks left in the forest were a possible match. As he hung up, Savannah stalked back out of the club. Just watching her made him ache.

It was, he thought, a bitch of a situation. Yet one he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—relinquish. Not this time.

So was it jealousy, like she’d claimed?

He didn’t know. How could he, when he’d never experienced anything remotely like this before he’d met her? But if jealousy could be classified as wanting to be the only one holding her, the only one loving her, then her accusation was probably right. He’d never been good at sharing—as many of his brothers would undoubtedly testify.

She stopped well beyond his reach, but the cold night seemed to amplify her scent. It swam around him, warming him as quickly as any caress. Lord, it was just as well they’d taken the edge off the fever earlier; otherwise he’d be tearing her clothes off like some frenzied teenager.

“I’ve asked Ike to come down and tail Denny.” Her voice was cool, professional, and totally devoid of the heat he could see in her eyes.

Cade nodded. “Could be he’ll lead us to the blonde.”

“I wasn’t worried about that. I was worried about Denny’s safety.”

“I doubt he’d—”

“You’re willing to risk his life?” she cut in, the heat in her eyes now anger rather than desire.

“No.” He paused. “But if that’s the case, then why use Ike to tail him? The kid’s a little inexperienced, isn’t he?”

“Maybe, but he’s also closer to Denny’s age than the rest of us. He won’t look so out of place at some of Denny’s haunts.”

“But people are going to recognize him, especially with that red hair.”

“He’ll wear a cap. Quite the fashion amongst teenagers at the moment—or so he tells me.”

Cade wasn’t convinced, but he kept his doubts to himself. After all, she knew her people better than he did. “Did Denny have anything else to give us?”

“He did say that I looked hot.” Amusement touched her lips, but it quickly faded. “And he didn’t meet her here at the club, but rather at the burger joint on Galena Street. He said she’d worked the night shift there, off and on, for the last couple of weeks. I thought I’d head over there now and check it out.”

“It’s rather convenient that he remembers all that now.”

“Denny has only ever said as much as he needed to keep everyone happy.”

“Next time, I’ll push the brat a bit more.” His gaze drifted down her leather-clad body, and his erection
swelled painfully. “If you go dressed like that, they’re never going to look at you the same way again.”

“And that could be a good thing,” she muttered, blowing out a breath that lifted the silky black strands from her forehead. “I’ll change, naturally.”

“Good.” He didn’t want anyone else ogling her any more than he wanted anyone else making love to her. And was that a wolf’s natural predatory instincts, or something else entirely? He didn’t know.

He didn’t
want
to know.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Just because the moon is on your side, don’t think you can control all my actions.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She snorted softly. “Yeah, right.”

He glanced at his watch and saw it was barely eleven. Thankfully, there was a lot of night left. “Shall we meet back at your lodge by two? That gives us a few hours before dawn.”

She opened her mouth as if to say something, then obviously thought the better of it and simply nodded. Then she walked away, calling to the wolf within. He watched the fluid beauty of the change, as attracted to the golden wolf as he was the woman.

When her form was finally claimed by the shadows, he walked over to where the woman’s truck had been parked. Moisture gleamed wetly on the road surface. He squatted, and dipped a finger into the fluid. Oil. He scanned the rest of the immediate area, but couldn’t immediately see anything else.

As he rose, lights swept into the parking lot, blinding him. He threw up a hand to protect his eyes and tried to see if it was Trista.

The vehicle cruised slowly toward him, as if intent on keeping him pinned in the light. He frowned, an odd sense of unease creeping up his spine. He took a step back. As he did so, the engine gunned and, with a squeal of tires, the truck came hurtling at him. He waited until it was clear that the truck wasn’t going to swerve, then threw himself sideways. His shoulder crashed into the side of a nearby car, sending a shock wave of pain down his left arm. The truck clipped the car, metal screeching, and then the car skidded in his direction, jarring his arm a second time. Pain lanced through him, but he ignored it and backed away quickly. As the truck swung away, the high beams no longer pinned him and he caught a glimpse of the wild brown hair, dark glasses, and small pinched mouth of the woman driving before his gaze focused on something else—the small crossbow hanging out the window. A crossbow armed with what looked like a wooden arrow.

He swore, spun around, and ran for the back of the car. Almost immediately, he heard the soft twang as the arrow was released, then the hiss of air as the weapon hurtled toward him. He wasn’t going to make it to the end of the vehicle, even though it was less than a pace away. He threw himself to the ground in the hopes that the woman had aimed high rather than low.

He wasn’t fast enough.

The arrow hit him just below the back of his knee, cutting through skin and muscle. Pain rose like a tidal wave.
White ash
. The thought sliced through the pain as quickly as the arrow had sliced through his body, and with it came the taste of fear. White ash was
particularly deadly to werewolves and shapeshifters. With the arrow in his flesh, he couldn’t move in human form, and he couldn’t shift to his wolf form. He couldn’t do anything but grit his teeth against the urge to scream.

Yet despite the pain, his senses were still working, because sound assaulted him: the deep rumble of the truck, which was still too close. Shouts coming from the direction of the club. Laughter, high and wild and oddly familiar. The growl of a wolf in attack mode.

He forced his eyes open and saw a golden wolf in mid-flight, arrowing toward the truck. I’m hallucinating, he thought, blinking to clear the image. But it didn’t fade. Instead, the wolf crashed into the driver’s door. Teeth flashed, shining white in the black night, and blood spurted. The warm, rich scent rose swiftly on the breeze. There was a yelp of pain, then the driver gunned the engine and the wolf dropped back to the ground as the truck sped away.

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back to the asphalt. Quick steps approached, but the pain was all-consuming and he couldn’t find the energy to force his eyes open a second time.

Cool hands touched his forehead, and the smell of Savannah swamped him. It did nothing to ease the pain, but by God, he was glad she was here.

Not that he could ever tell her that.

“Tane’s gone to fetch the medikit and to call an ambulance,” she said, her voice distant yet filled with concern.

Tell him to hurry
, he thought, then her words impacted on his drifting consciousness.
Who the hell was Tane?
No one he knew, that was for sure. “White
ash,” he hissed, shaking his head a little to try and keep himself from sliding into unconsciousness.

“I’m glad I managed to sink my teeth into the bitch,” she muttered. “And at least the arrow missed anything vital.”

There was no such thing as missing something vital, and they both knew it. With the white ash in his flesh, he was as helpless as a day-old pup. And if the wood remained in his skin too long, it would poison him as surely as arsenic.

“Take it out,” he ground out between clenched teeth. God, why was she even hesitating?

“The arrow’s barbed,” she said, her voice seeming to come from farther and farther away. “I can’t take it out. I can only push it through.”

“Do it.” It had to be better than the burning touch of the wood.

“You’ll be maimed for days …”

“And I’ll be worse than maimed if you don’t goddamn remove it!”

“Cade, if one of the barbs breaks off—”

“I know,” he interrupted, his words little more than a gasp of air, his flesh like a furnace. “Just do it.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath and said, “Tane, give me the knife you always keep down your boot.”

Tane again
. He sure as hell was going to find out who this person was. Considering she’d supposedly never come here before, she seemed awfully familiar with the man.

So, you are jealous
, a voice whispered inside his mind.

A female voice, familiar and yet not.

No
, he replied.

Then why claim her as you have? Why react so protectively when she talks to another male?

Because she is mine
.

She will never be yours unless she gives herself
freely. And you’re too afraid of losing her to give her
the chance
.

Anger swept through him.
Who is this?

Someone who will annihilate you if you hurt my
sister again
.

You’re Vannah’s twin?

Yes
.

How the hell did you get into my mind?
He had shields. Good shields. Even the instructors at the academy could never touch his thoughts unless he lowered some of his protection.

A distinctly unfeminine snort ran through his mind.
Your shields are little more than what a pup would
have in the golden pack
.

But Savannah—

Trusted you, which is why her shields were so low
.
And you abused that trust. For that pain alone, I
should whip you
.

And does Vannah know you’re in my head now?

A chuckle ran through his mind, and then another voice, as cool as the hands that were now on his flesh, joined the first.

Goddamn it, Neva, you promised to behave
.

Vannah?
Never, in all his training, had anyone told him it was possible to hold a three-way telepathic conversation.

Yes. Now shut up and brace yourself. Ready, Neva?

Yes
.

Alarm ran through him.
Hang on, ready for wha—

The rest of the sentence was cut off as a force swept through him, capturing his mind, his control, and wrapping him in a net as strong as iron—yet as gentle as silk.

Go
, the steel that was Neva’s presence said.

The white ash sliced through his flesh. It should have left him screaming, but it didn’t. Though he felt the arrow’s path, the cocoon around his mind shielded him from all hurt, all agony, all sensation.

Vannah swore, but it was a far-off sound that held no meaning. As were the words that followed.
Cade, you have to shift shape to stem the blood
.

Shift shape?
Why should he? He was content—

He’s incoherent
, Neva said.
I’ve shielded him from the pain, but the shock is still there. You want me to …?

No. It had better be me
. Vannah’s voice held a grimness that sent a distant shiver of warning down his spine.
He hates me anyway, so it won’t matter
.

He doesn’t hate you, Sis
.