Beneath a Darkening Moon (5 page)

She walked across to where Ike squatted. His expression was an odd mix of flustered embarrassment and determination. “Boss, I’ve been ordered to stop you or anyone else from going up the trail.”

“Did he tell you to stop anyone from entering the forest from an area well away from the trail?”

Ike’s gaze searched hers. Wanting to please her, but not wanting to get on Cade’s bad side. “Well, no, but the intent—”

“I’m not talking about intent. And if I don’t use the path, you’re technically obeying orders, aren’t you?”

“I suppose.” But his voice was filled with the doubt she could see in his expression.

“You won’t get into trouble,” she assured him—even if she had to stand in front of him to protect him from the firing squad.

He nodded, accepting her word. She ducked through the trees and began to climb. Now that night had closed in, the shadows were thick and deep under the autumn-clad trees. Leaves crunched beneath her feet—a soft, crisp sound that echoed across the stillness. From up ahead came the soft murmur of voices—Cade’s rich tone, entwined with a soft, feminine lilt. One of his officers, at least, was female.

Then another sound stirred the evening—another footstep, one out of sync with her own.

She stopped, every sense alert as she listened to the gentle stirring of the wind. The person ahead had obviously stopped, too, because the only sound she could now hear was the rhythmic rise and fall of the voices ahead. She waited, trusting what she’d heard, knowing she had nothing to lose by simply standing there. After all, that’s what she’d be doing down at the truck.

Five minutes passed.

Then, from up ahead and to her right, the steps began again, edging closer to the soft conversation coming from the murder scene. Those steps were too light to be human, meaning it was either a wolf or something else—something with the intelligence or natural cunning of a hunter.

But she was betting on a wolf.

Still, she didn’t move. As a member of the golden pack, she was gifted with strong telepathic abilities, and while her abilities were far outstripped by her sister, Savannah had more than enough skill to read the mind of almost anyone she chose to. And though it was a gift she didn’t often use—simply because it went against all her ethics—there were times, like this, when it was simply easier to reach out and discover what she was up against before she charged in.

She carefully lowered her shields and reached out telepathically to the person ahead.

Only to be hit so hard by a seemingly unending wall of hate and violence that she staggered backward and let out a small sound of shock and pain. She quickly shored up her defenses, but the hunter must have heard her soft cry of distress since she could hear the
soft steps moving away from the murder scene. And toward her.

Still shaking from the force of the other person’s hatred, she quickly called to the wolf within. Power rushed through her—an electric feeling that numbed sensation as her body reshaped and re-formed. In those brief few seconds, she was without sight, without hearing, and vulnerable to attack, which is why she’d chosen to change here rather than closer to whoever was up ahead. Better safe than sorry. Then, in her alternate form, she leapt forward, seeking the scents in the air as she ran, pinning down the few that were different, foreign. Musk and mint.

Relief snaked through her. It wasn’t the smell of anyone she knew, though why she’d expected to recognize it, she couldn’t honestly say.

She dashed through the darkness, following the faint scent trail, chasing the rush of footsteps across the night. The other wolf was fast, but with each step she drew closer.

Then came the sound of a car door slamming and, two seconds later, the roar of an engine. She cursed, but the words came out as a little more than a rumble of anger as she surged forward. The car had sped away long before she came into the small clearing, and all that was left was the settling dust.

Cursing again, she stuck her nose to the ground and hunted around for any scent or clues. There wasn’t even a decent tire track to be found. She moved back into the forest to see if she could find a footprint, but the thick cover of autumn leaves made that all but impossible. Annoyed, she turned and headed back for her truck.

The rhythmic murmur of voices was no longer coming from the murder site, meaning Cade and his crew had probably shut down for the night. Meaning
she
was undoubtedly in trouble for not being where she was supposed to.

But hey, if she had been, she might never have discovered the fact they had a watcher.

She shifted shape as she neared the end of the aspens and, in human form, strode into the clearing. Cade was leaning against the side of her truck, his arms crossed and his stance radiating annoyance.

A man very unimpressed with tardiness, Kel had noted. For once in her life, it looked as if Kel had actually understated that fact, because he was certainly more than unimpressed.

“I hope you didn’t reprimand Ike. He was only obeying
my
orders,” she stated, coming to a halt five steps away, out of immediate arm’s length. But she was still within range of his heady, masculine scent, and it twined through her senses as like a caress, causing the wildness within to churn in greater agitation.

“My orders should have countermanded yours.” His voice was edgy, rough, as if he were feeling the heat of the moon as much as she. “This is
my
investigation now,
not
yours.”

She snorted. “And here I thought we could work as a team.”

Something glittered in his eyes—something she couldn’t quite catch. Or maybe it was simply the reflection of starlight. “We have several problems on that front.”

“Yeah, you think I’m a no-good slut, and I think you’re a lying, devious bastard.” And right now, she
wasn’t inclined to tell him
anything
. He’d need to know about their watcher, but now that night had fallen, there was nothing more he or his team could do, and she didn’t need to give him another reason to yell at her.

His anger touched the air—a heat thick enough to burn. “True. But I wasn’t talking about either of those problems.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Then what the hell
were
you talking about?”

He hesitated. “I prefer not to discuss it here.”

“Why? Are you scared of the dark?” Taunting him probably wasn’t a good idea, but her inner bitch just couldn’t let the moment pass. And after all, wasn’t he the reason the bitch was born in the first place? She might have been a rebel before she’d left Ripple Creek and headed to Kansas and Rosehall, but she’d been a sweet one. Or so Neva had declared. And if she couldn’t trust her twin to give an honest opinion, who could she trust?

“And shouldn’t I be?” His gaze ran down the length of her—a slow, sensuous perusal that sent heat flaring across her skin. But when his gaze finally rose to hers again, the dark depths were touched with a bitterness that almost outshone the lust. “After all, I learned the hard way that devils mostly come at night, and the most dangerous of them all is the one who looks like an angel.”

“I wasn’t the one who went into our relationship lying, Cade, so don’t get all high and mighty with
me
.”

His expression was contemptuous. “But you learned to lie, didn’t you?”

“If I did, it was because I had a damn good teacher.” She crossed her arms, refusing to back down, even though common sense was screaming to just give up and forget about it. “All those pretty words, all those promises made in the dark. All of them lies. But I guess you’re right. I guess I did tell the biggest lie of all.”

His anger lashed at her, as fierce as the gleam in his dark eyes. Yet that gleam wasn’t bitterness now. It was simply desire, and it burned as savagely as it ever had, crashing through her like a storm, making her tremble.

God help her, she wanted him. Wanted him as fiercely as she had back when she was a stupid teenager doing nothing more than rebelling against the restrictions of her childhood. And it
wasn’t
just the moon promise. It never had been. Some things, it seemed, never changed, no matter how much time and hurt had passed.

“And which of your many lies was the biggest?” he asked.

That he didn’t even remember the words she’d said just before he’d torn everything apart hurt more than she thought it would. But then, how stupid was she to think he even
would
remember? He’d been too intent on invading her mind to listen to anything she might have said—but in doing so, he’d left his own defenses open. In that moment, she’d learned not only who he was, but the fact she’d been little more than a means of finding a killer.

“It doesn’t really matter now, does it?” It had never mattered. She shrugged and turned away, suddenly tired of arguing. No matter how much she might
have dreamed of letting all her frustration, all her anger, loose on him, it didn’t feel as cathartic as she’d thought it would now that the dream had become a reality.

All she was really doing was dragging up old hurts, old pain, and it simply wasn’t worth the trouble.
He
wasn’t worth the trouble.

But she’d only gone three steps when his hand caught hers and spun her around.

“Don’t ever walk away from me again when we’re in the middle of something!” he said harshly. “Not again.”

“We weren’t in the middle of something
last
time—we were at an end. And I didn’t walk. I ran.” From him, and from what he’d done. She pulled her hand from his, her fingers still tingling from the contact. “And I’ll do whatever I want. You’re not my boss.”

Or lover. Or friend. Or anything else important
, she thought, spinning on her heel and walking around the back of the truck.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “Want me to prove it?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” Her gaze met his over the back of the truck. “Nothing but a quick result, so you can get the hell out of my town.”

“There are forces preventing that, despite how much either of us might wish otherwise.”

“I don’t want excuses. Just get it done, and get out.”

“Savannah … stop.”

His voice was so soft she barely heard it. And yet his words seemed to hang in the air, surrounded by an energy that whisked across her skin and burned into
her mind, becoming a compulsion she had no choice but to obey. And even though she fought the order with every ounce of strength she had, her feet stopped and her hand stilled.

She knew why—he was using their pledge of commitment against her. And, of course, the moon, in all her wisdom, generally gave that power to the male of the species rather than the female. There was little she could do other than accept it. But that
didn’t
mean she had to like it.

Fury burned through her, momentarily obliterating the desire. “Bastard!”

He gave her a lopsided smile that tugged at her memories and snagged at old hurts. God, how she’d loved that little-boy smile …

“I never forced you into that promise, Vannah.”

“Savannah,”
she bit back. “And you’re forcing it now, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

He walked around the truck, each step so full of effortless grace that he could have been walking on air. Which was what made him a good IIS officer, she reminded herself fiercely. He could sneak up on people all too easily, and just as easily misinterpret what he’d heard.

But he wasn’t sneaking now. He was boldly going where few men had dared go before, and there wasn’t anything she could do to stop it. Not right now, anyway.

But later, he would pay. Somehow, she’d make sure of it.

In the darkness, his handsome features were shadowed, and his eyes were little more than obsidian
stone, though the occasional spark of navy still gleamed. A spark that was so hot. So hungry.

And it echoed through every inch of her, until her whole body felt stretched taut with desire. Part of her wanted to run, to somehow break the bonds of magic and just flee. But that other part, the wild part that had been contained for so long, wanted to stay and savor the delights this man could offer.
Had
offered, in the past. But she had no idea which part would have won, simply because the choice had been snatched from her. And that, more than anything, infuriated her. If she was going to leap into the abyss, she wanted it to be of her own free will.

His gaze swept down her body, lingering on her breasts, making her nipples grow taut. Then his gaze slipped further down, following the curve of her waist, stopping again on her groin, as if he could actually see the heat pooling there. But he didn’t really need to see it, because the scent of her arousal hung on the air—an aroma as sweet as the fierce musk of desire emanating from his skin.

His smile, when his gaze finally rose, was that of a predatory wolf who had his prey in his sights. A male who knew that the prey was ready to be brought down and consumed.

“Don’t do this,” she warned, even as part of her screamed for the warmth of his caress and the heat of his body on her skin.

He stepped closer, until all she could smell was the heady aroma of lust and man. “Do what?” He raised a hand, his fingers brushing her cheek. His touch was a fire that burned through skin and muscle and bone, until it seemed her very soul quivered.

“Don’t use force,” she somehow said. “Not again. Not in any form.”

“I’m not forcing you to respond, Vannah. I never have.”

“Savannah,” she corrected. But it came out little more than a husky whisper as his face drew closer. Then his lips brushed hers—a kiss so sweet, so full of memories, that tears touched her eyes.

She squeezed them shut, fighting the desire coursing through her limbs. Praying for the sanity to resist his seduction when all she wanted to do was return the tenderness of his touch.

“Using the moon magic
is
force, because you leave me no choice.”

“True.” His breath brushed her lips as he spoke, sending a warm shiver of anticipation across her skin. “But I can’t let you go without seeing if our kiss is as good as I remember.”

With that, he wrapped his arms around her, crushing her close as his lips found hers. It was a kiss as wild as she remembered, and as erotic as those that had haunted her dreams. It was also a very unapologetic affirmation of what he wanted. What he intended to do.