Blue Moon: Blood Moon Trilogy #3 (20 page)

It took me a minute to notice how the Pack was evenly dispersed around me, always a little behind me and never overtaking my lead. It was an oddly empowering feeling, and I embraced it—let it make me stronger.

The sun started to set as we raced on. I knew this might pose a threat once the coven could step outside, but Jackson wouldn’t have called on us if he thought it was impossible.

Jackson’s scent hung in the air of a clearing, forcing me to stop. We all sniffed around before realizing the scent wasn’t fresh; he’d been here days ago. It was strong enough to follow, though. Marcus had instructed us to stay in wolf form until we’d met up with Jackson again, because shifting might draw unwanted attention to us and put us in a vulnerable position.

We stayed hidden in the shadows, remaining vigilant in case we came across any of Bobby’s minions. The closer we got to the mountain, the stronger Jackson’s scent became. Yet we hadn’t found him. Ahead of us, about sixty feet from the cover of trees we were hiding in, was the compound door, left ajar. It was the first time I’d seen it from this angle, and I realized how it had been missed all this time; it had been built right into the side of the mountain, and the door was perfectly camouflaged. Had we not followed Jackson’s scent here, and had my scent not still been lingering, we never could have identified this entry point.

Beside me, Nick nudged my shoulder, and when I looked at him, he tilted his head, urging me forward. I wasn’t so sure that was a good idea. We hadn’t found Jackson yet, and I didn’t want to go in there without the Pack reunited.

Or maybe I didn’t want to go in there at all.

My heart was racing, my legs trembling, and my tail started to sink between my legs. I was terrified of being caught and caged again. It didn’t matter that my Pack was at my side, willing to fight for me, all I could think of was being back in that cage with that collar around my neck while the man I once recognized as my brother and best friend had me tortured.

I was so lost in thought, I didn’t notice when Nick stepped ahead of me. He looked back, his eyes telling me it was what we had to do. Paralyzed in place, I shook my head. Something felt off.

Nick lifted his nose and inhaled, inviting me to do the same, and when I did, I picked up Jackson’s scent, only stronger…and coming from the open door. If he was already inside, then we had no choice but to go in.

Aside from going into a lair of vampires, there was the issue of us not having hands to get through the internal doors. We’d have to shift before going in.

Nick clued in to this and was the first to begin his transformation. Soon, the sound of the others shifting registered with me as well, and I had to take a minute to calm down enough to begin the process of shifting back. Within minutes, the eight of us stood, naked, on two legs, planning out our next move.

“His scent is coming from inside, which means he jumped the gun,” Nick said, looking somewhat annoyed. “Not that this surprises me. He often has trouble following orders and waiting for backup.”

“Or,” I interjected, coming to Jackson’s defense, “he was taken. It’s a very real possibility. Trust me.”

I could tell Nick felt bad for not considering this, especially given how I had been taken, and he quieted, letting me take the lead as I explained the layout of the compound once more. Once through the door, we’d split into two groups and look for Jackson, taking out any vampires that got in our way.

Everyone was on board, so we moved through the cold quietly, carefully making our way to the entrance. We waited just outside for a minute while I listened for Jackson and inhaled deeply, looking for traces of the vampires. Their scent was light, but Jackson’s was quite potent. I couldn’t figure out why that might be. There was only one of him, and a small army of them. It didn’t make sense.

Silently, we made our way inside. Vince led the second group, heading right. Layla stayed by his side while Colby and Corbin followed them. They were going up the stairs to the vampires’ quarters while Nick, Roxanne, Zach, and me headed toward the cells.

I led the way, but Nick wasn’t too far behind, his nervousness infusing the air as we made our way down the narrow corridor and toward the large iron door. We walked carefully past the doors to the observation rooms, just in case the vampires were hidden in there. Strangely, the doors were wide open, the rooms either ransacked or completely empty.

As we neared the heavy door that would lead to the prison area, Jackson’s scent grew even more potent, but there was something else behind it. It took me a fraction of a second to recognize it as fear and blood…Jackson’s blood.

I pushed the iron door open so hard it banged against the stone wall behind it as I bolted through it. Nick called after me, but I ignored him, instead, picking up Jackson’s labored breathing. I was in the corridor between the cells in about five strides, and the scene that greeted me left my blood cold.

Jackson was alone and naked, lying in the fetal position in the center of my old cell. The door was pulled shut, likely locked, and a collar was fastened around his neck. It was so tight, I could see the blood seeping around the spikes that were puncturing his flesh.

“Jackson!” I shouted, grabbing the bars. I instantly pulled my hands back and hissed when the door didn’t budge, but the silver burned my skin.

“Holy shit,” Nick declared, coming to a stop beside me. He, too, reached for the door, yanking his hands back after also being burned.

“We need a key,” I said, anxiously pacing in front of the cell door. I’d spent so much time pacing on the other side of the bars, worrying about never getting out, that I never would have imagined wanting to get back in this badly.

“Where can I find one?” Zach asked.

Jackson groaned, his ribs barely expanding with every breath. The silver wasn’t just weakening him; it was killing him.

Frustrated and feeling helpless
again
, I slammed my hands against the bars in anger. “Check the observation rooms. Have the others help. We need to get him out soon.”

Roxanne and Zach took off, leaving Nick and me with Jackson. I knelt to the cold ground, shivering as the chill seeped into my bare legs and up my body. I pushed it aside, letting my concern take center stage.

“Jax,” I said softly. “We’re here. Can you hear me?” There was no response except for a shallow intake of breath. Scared, I looked up at Nick, who was busy inspecting the door. Occasionally, he’d reach for the hinges and try to work the iron pins free. He could only hold on for a short time before the silver forced him to pull away, so he wasn’t getting as far as we needed to be.

“He’s not doing well,” I confessed, and Nick froze, his eyes reflecting his own fear.

“I know,” he replied. “You stay with him. I’m going to go and help find something to bust this door open.”

Nick took off in the same direction as the others, and I stayed with an unresponsive Jackson. Time seemed to move slowly as I counted each of Jackson’s breaths. I was about to go see what was taking so long, when the entire Pack returned. I stood up, taking a step back when Nick and Vince blew past, carrying the operating table I’d been strapped to several times. They started bashing it against the cell door, the metal on metal sound echoing in the stone dungeon and making me cringe.

With every slam against the bars, stone broke away, falling to the ground, and the iron cage door leaned inward. It didn’t take much longer before the door flew open, and I threw myself inside, rushing to Jackson’s side. I fell to my knees, scraping them on the rock floor as I carefully lifted Jackson’s head. His face screwed up in pain as the spikes pinched his skin, so I stopped moving him. “I need something to get this thing off.”

“I think I saw an overturned toolbox in one of the back rooms,” Corbin announced helpfully. It only took one look from me before he ran out of the dungeon, returning a couple minutes later with a rattling toolbox.

Four screwdrivers and fifteen minutes later, the collar snapped open, and Roxanne and I each grabbed a side, carefully peeling it away from Jackson’s neck so as not to puncture his carotid artery.

I looked up to find everyone else watching anxiously, and they all breathed a sigh of relief in unison as the collar fell to the ground. We waited for Jackson’s breathing to return to normal, and after a few minutes, I checked his neck to find the wounds were slowly healing. Having been dosed with silver, I knew it would take more time, but it was a relief to see even a sliver of improvement.

As we waited, I tried to piece this all together. Why had they taken Jackson if their goal was to create hybrids? If what I’d found out was true, Jackson would be of no use, wouldn’t he? So why…

Jackson drew in deeper breaths and groaned. He was still unconscious, but his eyes were slowly starting to flutter open. I looked up at the rest of the Pack again, noticing that all their attention was on Jackson. They were worried about him, and while they were absolutely justified to feel that way, what suddenly worried me was that no one was standing guard against the very real threat of the vampires who ran this place.

Vampires who seemed to be completely absent.

Vampires who ransacked their own fortress.

Vampires whose scents were days old, at the very least.

Then it struck me like a slap to the face; they weren’t here because they were somewhere else. My heart raced, and my stomach lurched as I pushed myself onto shaky legs, realization slipping into place like the last pieces of a complicated jigsaw puzzle. When I was with the Scottsdale PD, I’d only seen something like this a handful of times, not every criminal being this clever.

“This isn’t a trap,” I announced in a wavering voice, gaining the undivided attention of every single pack member in the room. “It’s a diversion.”

N
ick and Vince worked together to help Jackson to his feet. He was slowly coming to, only stumbling every couple steps when his feet wouldn’t cooperate. Panicked, I led the way through the compound and to the exit. The cold air bit at my flesh as we raced barefoot through the snow and toward the woods. I wasn’t sure what the coven was trying to divert us from, but I was certain it couldn’t be good.

I knew that shifting would get us back to the manor even quicker, but Jackson wasn’t strong enough yet. I knew this from personal experience. The pace we were moving at was frustrating, but we had no choice. I wasn’t going to leave him or any of the others behind in case there was an ambush waiting for us.

Jax groaned behind me, and I turned around to see Nick and Vince releasing him so he could lean against a tree. “This is going to take forever,” he stated in a hoarse voice. “We need to shift.”

I approached him. Slumped against the tree like this, he wasn’t nearly as intimidating and didn’t appear much taller. He had one arm wrapped around a bruised abdomen and his neck wounds were still knitting together. There was a dried blood trail running down the left side of his face from a scar that I knew had to be recent. Various other cuts and bruises covered his body, but now that the collar had been removed, he should be able to heal faster.

“I won’t leave you behind,” I said firmly. “I did that once, and look what happened.”

Jackson smiled. “Not your fault, kid. Those damn parasites tricked you into thinking I was fine.”

It enraged me to think I’d ignored my gut feeling and that something really was wrong, all because we’d received a text stating otherwise.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” he said, pushing himself up a little straighter. “I’d have bought it, too.”

Nick approached, laying a hand on my bare shoulder. “He’s right. If this is a diversion and something is happening back home, we’ll never make it like this.”

Jackson pushed off the tree, wobbling only slightly for a minute before regaining his balance on his own. “I can probably shift,” he announced. “They didn’t feed me, and the only silver I was subjected to was from that fucking collar.” He rubbed his neck, wincing slightly. “It’s healing, which means there can’t be enough in my system to suppress the change for long. I feel like I’m in control.”

The thought of leaving him made me nervous. “You change first then,” I said. “If you have no problems, then the rest of us will follow suit and we’ll head back to the manor. Together.”

The left side of Jackson’s mouth curled up into a crooked grin. “My, aren’t we bossy?”

My cheeks flamed, but I just nodded once as if to tell him to get on with it.

It took a little longer than anyone expected, but eventually, Jackson succeeded. Once I knew for sure he was okay, the rest of us shifted, as well, and then we were on our way.

I continued to check back to make sure Jackson was still with us, and I was happy to find the others had him pretty well surrounded to make sure we didn’t lose him at some point. It seemed like he was pushing through the pain, and I knew that he would probably need a few days of recovery time once we got home. We just had to get there first.

Hours passed, and I could feel the early stages of fatigue finally setting in. By the time we made it to the lake, I was ready to collapse, but something told me to keep going.

We made it to the woods near the manor. Lights were on in several of the windows, making everything appear normal. Maybe I’d over-reacted.

Everyone shifted back, and that was when I noticed Jackson struggling. He was too hurt and exhausted, and I felt badly for making him push himself. It could be detrimental to his recovery.

I grabbed my clothes and started pulling them on. “Zach, Colby. Help him up to his room. I’ll send Miranda up as soon as I make sure everything is okay.”

Instead of going around to the front of the house, I headed for the door off the kitchen. It had been left unlocked, and it was dark as I stepped inside. I inhaled deeply, only picking up traces of the Pack with Miranda and Marcus’s hanging more prominently in the air.

“Marcus?” I called out, looking around the well-lit kitchen and sitting area. There was no answer, but that didn’t mean anything; maybe he and Miranda had taken Cordelia outside for a bit. I knew how nice it was to get out of the house once in a while.

Nick was directly behind me, sniffing the air, and then he reached out and grabbed my arm, gripping it tightly. Confused, I slowly turned to him, eyebrows pulled together. His eyes were wide, nostrils flared, and his expression read: panic.

“Something’s not right,” he said quietly, stepping ahead of me.

“Maybe they’re just not here?” I offered, suddenly unsure of my original assumption.

Nick inhaled again and then shook his head. “No. They’re here.”

“Then…why aren’t they answering?” I feared his response, and the look he gave me didn’t help to assuage that feeling in the slightest.

“That’s what I’d like to know.” Nick released my arm and jogged through the kitchen and toward the dining room. I followed him as he ran through the house, and as I did, Marcus’s scent grew stronger, but there was something else just as potent infusing the air…

Blood. And not just a little bit; there was a lot of it. The copper scent increased as Nick led the way to the library, and I was so focused on it, I didn’t notice he had stopped in the doorway until I slammed into his back and stumbled back a step.

Nick’s shoulders moved up and down with every heaving breath he took. His neck and shoulder muscles flexed with tension, and anger rolled off of him in heated waves. Slowly, I stepped around him, the smell of blood stronger than ever. When I saw the scene that lay before me in the library, I gasped, slapping my hands over my mouth.

In all my years on the police force, and the countless homicide crime scenes I’d investigated, I’d never seen anything this…horrifying. My stomach lurched as I took an unsteady step forward, careful not to step in the blood that was pooled on the floor.

Marcus’s eyes were open, staring lifelessly at the ceiling, and his neck had been ripped open. Because his heart was no longer beating, blood no longer flowed from the open wound, having mostly been expelled from his body and onto the expensive throw rug beneath him in his final moments of panic.

My detective instincts kicked in, forcing out the wolf as well as my human need to mourn. I forced my eyes from Marcus’s body, trying to distance myself from the whirlwind of emotions I had about my Alpha’s death so I could work the scene.

I took in the pattern of the blood pooling and spatter. It was consistent with the theory that he died here. It was likely quick. There was no evidence of him having moved after he fell, and I couldn’t find any proof that he’d been moved here from a primary location. It was probable his killer—likely a vampire, given our discord for one another—stood before him and slashed his throat. From the jagged tears in his flesh, I’d bet everything I had it was done by hand. I couldn’t help the visual that my mind cooked up as I looked at the blood on the floor around my fallen Alpha and the torn flesh at his jugular.

Playing out in my head like a scene from a movie, I imagined him standing in here, possibly researching or continuing to plot out our tactics when he was interrupted. Chances were, he was caught off guard, but I doubted he’d give in so easily. As if I could predict how he would defend himself, I could see him jumping over the long table and fighting his killer.  The throw rug was kicked up in one corner, rolls and bumps pushing it away from its usual place confirming my theory as I walked around it.

The pool of blood that surrounded him had been disturbed. In it were two breaks where something possibly rested and was then pulled away. I looked a little closer, using a detective’s keen eye. There were handprints on Marcus’s chest also, and there were a couple of buttons missing.  As I continued to follow the trail, I noticed streaks of blood marred the wood floors as though someone had been pulled in an attempt to get away.

I kneeled next to Marcus and gingerly lifted his right hand. It was clean; there was no blood—fresh or dried, vamp or wolf—anywhere on his hands or under his nails. He either hadn’t tried to get away, or didn’t get the chance. I tracked the streaks of blood, looking close to see the grooves of nail marks periodically. The trail stopped and the nail grooves deepened before the wood splintered roughly as though the victim had been yanked away. Standing up, I looked around the room and noticed the blood along one of the walls. It was about four feet up the wall and moved in a wave-like pattern, breaking off and then picking up again as though someone was looking to find their grip.

Then my mind flew to someone who could have interrupted and tried to flee before being captured. “Miranda,” I said, panicking. “Where is she?” I stood up and turned abruptly to find Nick had followed me into the room and was standing behind the curved staircase. I made my way to him slowly, inhaling sharply as I looked down to find Miranda, propped up against a bookcase, her neck in the same condition as Marcus’s. Blood covered her chest, staining her pale yellow shirt and lap. I choked back a sob, covering my mouth to keep the sound contained, and Nick wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him in an act of comfort.

Suddenly, footsteps could be heard moving toward us, and I tensed. “No!” I cried. “Colby and Corbin…they can’t see this. Not until we know what happened.”

Nick and I rushed from our place behind the staircase, but it was too late; Colby and Corbin were standing in the doorway of the library, eyes wide and mouths agape, and the rest of the Pack was with them, even a freshly-clothed and still-weak-looking Jackson. Shock spread throughout the Pack, and I felt completely helpless. Colby and Corbin broke away from everyone. Nick and I tried to push them back into the hall, but Colby struggled, trying to force her way past us.

“Daddy?” she called out, her voice cracking and tears falling from her eyes as she called for him over and over again, hoping for a response. She struggled against Nick’s strong hold on her—or more accurately, Nick struggled against her need to explore the situation beyond the threshold. He could barely keep her contained as she ripped and clawed at his arms, begging to be let go. Tears streamed down her face, and it wasn’t long before her bones started to shift and her temperature started to spike.

“Let me go!” she ordered, her hazel eyes flashing yellow as she looked up murderously at Nick.

I feared what might happen in the next few seconds, and I knew that if I didn’t diffuse the situation, something disastrous would happen. Corbin went limp, crumbling to the floor in silent tears as I went to assist Nick with Colby.

“Colby, you need to calm down.”

Her gaze snapped to me. “What I need is to be with my father!” As soon as her panic had escalated, an eerie calm fell over her. She stopped struggling, and a spark of realization flashed in her eyes. “Wh-where’s my mom?”

I didn’t have to say anything; she could tell from the expression on my face what the answer to her question was. She took a step away from Nick, shaking her head. “C-Cordy?”

I glanced down at Corbin, who finally lifted his face to look at me. I offered them both a solemn headshake, and before I could react, Colby darted between Nick and I and through the library door. She came to an abrupt stop about ten inches from her father’s feet. She stood in silence above him for a minute before sniffling. Slowly, she lifted her head and looked around the library. She inhaled once before following the scent she’d picked up, and when she reached the back of the staircase, she let out an anguished cry and sank to her knees, hands covering her mouth as she wept.

Corbin was on his feet in an instant, stumbling the first few strides as he raced toward his sister’s fallen form. He faltered backward, his entire body trembling with the sadness and anger that now thickened the air as he looked from his mother’s body to that of his father’s. I knew I should step in and guide them from the room. For one, they didn’t need to see this, and secondly, I couldn’t risk them unknowingly destroying evidence. I still hadn’t looked over the entire scene. But they deserved to grieve.

Soon, Zach was barreling past me and at Colby’s side, wrapping his arms around her and holding her to his chest as she sobbed uncontrollably. He tried to soothe her, but I could see his own distress at the scene that surrounded us all.

Hesitant, the rest of the Pack stepped into the library to assess the situation. Jackson looked horrified, and I suspected he was harboring some kind of guilt. It was ridiculous, sure, but I knew that if this had happened while I had been held captive, I’d have felt the same way. To know that the entire pack was off saving me instead of guarding our alphas would have weighed on me.