Blue Moon: Blood Moon Trilogy #3 (17 page)

We took a minute to reacquaint ourselves in this form; this would mark the first time we’d shifted together since the days before I had been taken. I was excited. The wolf was excited. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as the wind picked up, and soon Nick and I were racing through the trees, kicking up snow as we competed to see who would reach the edge of the trees first.

Yipping and purposely running into one another, we dashed from the cover of the forest. With everything that had happened, I had forgotten how much fun this part of my new life was. Even though the threat of my brother and his coven still loomed overhead, I was able to let go and enjoy my freedom again with Nick by my side.

Feeling particularly playful, I glanced over at Nick as he picked up speed and tried to take the lead. Not one to give up without a fight, I used a burst of energy to catch up, running so close I could feel his fur against mine. We ran like this for a few strides before my competitive nature took hold again, and I drifted one more step forward and to the right, tripping him while I raced ahead.

Looking behind me, I watched him roll a couple of times before coming to a stop, fluffy white snow dusting his fur as he looked up at me with a devilish glint in his eyes. I stopped, tongue hanging out as I panted, and turned around. My tail began to wag as he advanced on me, and I crouched my front half down, leaving my tail end in the air teasingly.

Without warning, he darted toward me, sending me over backward as we rolled through the snow playfully. We played like this until we were both out of breath, so we decided to aimlessly wander for a bit before heading back. A couple times, the look in Nick’s eyes alluded to changing back, but I just shook my head, urging him forward. I wasn’t ready to change back yet; the wolf had been kept locked away by Bobby’s coven, and I felt it only fair to let her roam a little longer.

The sky overhead darkened as dusk approached, appearing almost black on the night of the new moon, but the final burst of light seemed alive over the mountains. Nick and I reached the edge of the frozen lake, and I recognized it as the same spot we’d gone after that one vampire the night of the fire. The wind picked up again, the cold cutting through my fur and making me shiver, but it also brought with it a familiar scent.

Jackson.

I pranced along the edge of the lake, wanting to cross and go meet up with him. Even though he’d texted Marcus earlier and assured us that all was fine, I had this urge to make sure for myself. Nick growled his disapproval, nodding back the way we came. The look in his eyes told me he was worried about an attack now that it was dark.

Torn, I stayed put, looking toward the mountains and then back at Nick. What was I supposed to do?

My human self—that rational police detective—wanted to go see Jackson. I wanted to learn what he’d been able to gather. But the wolf? She knew that disobeying Marcus could have severe consequences, and she wasn’t willing to risk punishment.

So, I let her choose. Marcus said it wouldn’t be much longer before we went after Bobby’s coven. Until then, we would let Jackson play detective and inform us when it was time.

Patience had never been my strong suit, so I could only hope Jackson called on us sooner rather than later.

S
everal days had gone by, and Jackson still hadn’t asked us to join him, nor had he come home. Normally, I’d be panicking a lot more, but his daily updates were keeping me from rebelling against Marcus’s orders and going after him in the middle of the night.

The Pack was still worried about an attack, even with Jackson’s reassurances that they seemed to be staying hidden in their super-secret fortress. Knowing I was some kind of key to their freedom from the night, Marcus wasn’t taking any chances that they would come for me. He had a patrolling schedule to keep the perimeter of the manor secure while he tried to contact an old friend about setting up some kind of mystical barrier.

I’d had no idea that such a thing even existed, but apparently the Pack had a group of Shamans on their payroll who cast the occasional spell to alert them of intruders. It seemed far-fetched…and that was coming from a werewolf.

The terror level in the manor took me back to when I’d first arrived and we’d found the wolf on the property and the dead woman hanging from the tree. I agreed that it was better to be safe than sorry, but I was starting to feel like a prisoner all over again. Thankfully, I was still “allowed” to roam the grounds by myself during the day and with Nick or another Pack member after sunset—but only if I
had
to get out of the house. I was under constant supervision, and while it was annoying, I understood it, and I made a conscious decision not to fight it.

I stared up at the dark ceiling in our bedroom, trying to force my body into exhaustion. Truthfully, I had been having trouble sleeping the last few days. It could have been residual worry for Jackson still out there by himself, but it could have also been some form of PTSD that I was experiencing since being rescued. It started with being overly jumpy at even the slightest noise—something I still struggled with—and the nightmares that would wake me up and leave me confused about where I was, but soon it escalated to being unable to sleep at all.

Naturally, Nick worried, and I hated to put him through it, so I just started faking it—sleep that is. I’d sidle up to him and rest my head on his chest while keeping my breaths deep and even. When he drifted off, I’d roll back over and listen to the sounds from the rest of the house and outside, staying vigilant, almost like I was waiting for one of my captors to come bursting in and take me back to one of the observation rooms. Hearing doors open and close down the hall and footsteps walking toward and away from my bedroom door only made the panic attacks worse.

Marcus was still waiting to hear from his Shaman contacts, so there would be little-to-no warning if our perimeter was breached. Knowing this definitely added to my sleepless nights.

I tried telling myself over and over again that I was safe. That I had my family to protect me should anything happen, but the darkness obliterated my mantra time and time again. Woodland animals moving outside on the grounds below caused me to jump, my heart rate and temperature both rising as I prepared to fight. It was Nick’s soft snoring that oddly set me at ease. What once annoyed the hell out of me was now my source of comfort at a difficult time.

Beside me, the bed dipped as Nick rolled away from me, facing the large window. Feeling particularly more restless than nights past, I decided to maybe see if a cup of warm milk or tea might help calm my nerves. Holding my breath, I carefully got out of bed and tiptoed to the door. I opened it carefully, stopping before the hinges squeaked, and slipped out into the hall.

Being nearly two in the morning, everyone was already sleeping or out guarding the perimeter. In the kitchen, I turned on the light above the stove and opened the fridge for the milk. I would try that first, and if that failed, then tea would be next.

As I waited for the milk to heat in the pot, my stomach growled, so I rifled through the fridge again for something to eat. Even though I knew my body was hungry, nothing particularly appealed to me…until I found the jar of pickles. I reached in and grabbed the jar, setting it on the counter and selecting a fork from the drawer next to the stove. I speared the fattest pickle in the jar and started eating it while I stirred my milk.

“Ugh, dill pickles at this hour?” a soft female voice said, making me jump in alarm and drop my snack.

The pickle hit the floor with a splat, the juice splashing against my toes, as I whipped around to find Colby sitting up on the couch in the small sitting room off the kitchen.

“Jesus,” I hissed, placing a hand over my racing heart. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, Colby.” Once I was sure I wasn’t about to pass out, I crouched down and picked up the pickle, pouting that it was wasted now… I eyed it carefully, inspecting it a little closer. Was it a waste?

I shook my head, telling myself I wasn’t that desperate to fulfill this odd craving, and tossed the pickle in the trash before fishing out another one.

“I can’t believe you’re eating something that garlic-infused this late. Poor Nick,” she teased, wrinkling her nose as she pulled a stool out from under the island and sat on it. The bags under her eyes had gotten worse from her lack of sleep, and I turned to her, concerned.

“You feeling okay? Still not sleeping?”

Colby shrugged and shook her head simultaneously, resting her chin in her hands and letting her eyes close. “No… I mean, yeah, I guess I feel okay. I’m sure I’d sleep better if Cordy would settle down.”

I wanted to act surprised that Cordelia was having trouble, but if I was struggling with acclimating back into the Pack after just a couple weeks, then what had the last seven years done to that poor child? I decided to go and check on her after I cleaned up in the kitchen.

“Did you want some warm milk or tea?” I offered, finishing my pickle.

“I’ll try the milk, if it’s not too much trouble.”

I smiled. “Not at all.” I added a little more milk to the pot on the stove and then put the pickles away. When I went in search of a couple mugs, I came across the peanut butter that someone had left out earlier and decided I wanted a spoonful.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Colby asked as I shoved the spoon in my mouth and licked the peanut butter off. “Not even a palate cleanser in between the garlicky pickles and the peanut butter?” She shuddered. “That’s disgusting.”

Not seeing the big deal because my stomach didn’t seem too upset by the combination, I shrugged. I added a little cinnamon to the milk, and once it was finished, I separated it into two mugs and handed her one.

“How are you doing?” Colby asked, blowing on her milk.

“I’m great,” I replied, taking a sip and holding her gaze.

Her eyes narrowed skeptically. She saw through my bullshit. “Yeah, so this late-night kitchen run and the bags under your eyes mean nothing?”

I considered keeping up the lie, but then decided I needed to be honest with at least one person. Nick would only worry and stay up with me, and one of us needed sleep if we were to stay vigilant when Jackson called on us.

“I’ve been better,” I confessed. “Nights are the worst, so I can empathize with what your little sister is going through.”

Colby bit down on her lower lip, looking conflicted.

“What is it?” I pressed. “Colby, you can tell me.”

After taking a deep, cleansing breath, Colby set her mug down, but her hands encased the warm ceramic. “It’s probably stupid,” she began. “I’m aware that years have gone by, and she’s grown so much, but…she’s different.”

I smiled warmly, reaching across the island and resting a hand on Colby’s forearm. “She went from being a child to a teenager,” I reminded her. “Of course she’s changed.”

“Like I said, it sounds stupid. But I was a teenager once, too, and she’s not…” She paused again, not sure she should continue. “Normal.”

Rounding the island, I sat next to Colby. “I know it’s an adjustment,” I empathized. “But, having been where she’s been for just a fraction of the time she spent there, I can tell you that she’s going to need a little more time. She felt abandoned—like you all gave up searching for her after she went missing.”

“But we didn’t—”

“I know that, but that’s how she feels. She’s got some abandonment issues she’ll need to work through, and couple that with being held captive and experimented on… Honey, this
is
her normal.”

Colby still wasn’t convinced. “She stares at me,” she whispered, sounding creeped out. “While I’m sleeping. I’ve woken up several times to her standing next to my bed, staring down at me with dark eyes.”

I shivered, imagining it.

“When I ask her what she’s doing, she just smiles this huge Cheshire cat grin and skips back over to her bed before engaging me in conversations that I’m too exhausted to even think about.”

“Like?” I inquired, curiosity piqued.

Colby rubbed her eyes and then raked her fingers through her hair. “Everything. Our lineage—which I hate to admit I don’t know too much about because I start to nod off every time Dad tries to teach us—the feud with Gianna… It’s all so random, really.”

I mulled over Colby’s concerns for a minute before coming to the only possible conclusion.

“She’s missed so much of her life here, Colby. She’s probably just trying to fill in the gaps and learn more about where she comes from. And maybe she’s asking about Gianna because she has a strange fascination with her captors. It’s not like they were open books the entire time I was there. She probably wants to understand why they would do the things they did.”

Colby finished her milk and then took her mug to the sink. “Yeah, maybe. I don’t know. I think I’m going to talk to Mom and Dad about cleaning out Karl’s room or one of the ones in the basement for me to move into.”

A knowing smirk formed on my lips. “The basement? That couldn’t have anything to do with wanting a room a little further from your parents because you and Zach have been given permission to be together, could it?”

Colby’s face turned pink instantly, and she struggled to form words.

“Relax,” I said. “I’m not going to rat you out. But, I should warn you that your dad’s a tough man to fool. If I figured it out, he will too.”

Standing up, I took my empty mug to the sink and turned to her, suddenly feeling exhausted. I welcomed the lethargic feeling as I wrapped Colby in my arms. “Try to get some sleep. You can talk to your dad about the sleeping arrangements tomorrow, okay? But you need to rest. Jax could call us into action any day.”

Colby nodded. “You, too.” She squeezed me a little tighter. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“Me, too, sweetie.”

After making sure the doors and windows on the main level were all locked and Colby was tucked in on the couch, I headed back upstairs. When I reached the second floor, I heard voices from down the hall near Jackson’s room and stopped.

Curious, I padded down toward the sound slowly, and the closer I got, I came to realize it was actually coming from Colby’s room.

Cordelia was still awake.

The door was ajar as I crept forward, trying to be as quiet as possible in hopes of maybe observing some of the behavior that Colby had reported downstairs. From my position just outside, I could see Cordelia kneeling on the bed her parents had recently acquired for her. She was facing the window—which was open—and she was whispering so low I couldn’t make out what she was saying at first.

I inched a little closer, careful not to open the door any more, and honed my hearing.

“Any day,” she mumbled, rocking back and forth minutely. “It won’t be long. They’ll see I’m one of them. They’ll trust me and tell me things. Any day… Any day…”

Her muttered ramblings needled at me. She was clearly confused—traumatized, even—and she was worried that her family didn’t trust her enough to let her be involved. Maybe she could see Vince and Zach out there patrolling the grounds and felt left out. As someone Marcus had trusted enough to name his successor, I felt it my responsibility to let him know when I spoke with him in the morning about his offer.

I was just turning around to head back to my room when the door flew open, and an irate Cordelia stood in the doorway. Her speed surprised me.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her eyebrows furrowed, amber irises glowing in the center before darkening to almost black around the edges. I’d never seen her eyes do this before—any of our eyes—and figured it had to be a trick of the light.