Dark of the Moon (12 page)

“They’re not as similar to us as the werewolves are.”

“Shifters,” I corrected her.

I expected her to take me to an interrogation room like I’d often seen in movies: one table, one hard chair, a dim light bulb hanging from a cord.

Instead she took me into an opulent room that was all white furniture and black décor. Mason and his father were sitting in large, plush chairs. Wilson and Johnson were standing nearby, tranq guns at the ready. Maybe they were worried that I’d try to overpower them. But all I wanted was to get this interview over and get back to Connor.

Mason indicated the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable.”

After everything that had happened, this moment was
surreal. I tried not to moan at the luxurious comfort that enveloped me when I sat. It was a sharp contrast to the concrete floor on which I’d spent the night and Connor was now lying.

“Help yourself,” Dr. Keane said, waving his hand over the coffee table in front of me where tiny bubbles rose through the liquid in a champagne flute and appetizers waited on black plates.

“Let’s just get this done,” I said impatiently, anxious to get back to Connor—even though he probably had no desire to see me return now that he knew the truth about me.

“All right.” Mason leaned forward. “So Shifters are born.”

“Yes.”

“Do they always have the ability to shift?”

“No.”

He arched a brow at my reticent answer. “Explain.”

“The ability to shift is dormant until the girl turns seventeen and the guy turns eighteen. During the first full moon following the designated birthday, the first shift occurs. It can’t be stopped. It can’t be controlled. After that, a Shifter learns to shift at will.”

“Is everyone in Tarrant a Shifter?”

“No.” We had a lot of tourists, campers, and nature buffs who came through, so it wasn’t a lie.

“The tattoos I’ve seen—what do they signify?”

“Shifters are connected to wolves and wolves mate for life. When a guy finds his mate, he has a Celtic symbol representing her name—or as close to it as possible—inked on his shoulder. It’s tradition.”

“Celtic. Are your origins in Great Britain?”

“We don’t know for sure. We think so, but…” This was hard. Telling him so much.

“But?” he prodded.

“Shifters live all over the world. Different clans.”

“Are they all wolf?”

“No, but I’ve never seen one that wasn’t.”

“So the different animals don’t mix?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know I’ve never seen one.”

“Interesting.” He ran his fingers over his face as though he could see it changing into that of a wolf. His actions gave me the creeps.

He narrowed his eyes in thought. “So what are the sherpas protecting in the forest?”

“Little hidey holes like the cave where you found Connor and the others a couple of weeks ago.”

“That’s it?” he asked in disbelief.

“Isn’t that enough?”

“I thought maybe there was a village or a secret city.”

No way was I going to tell him about Wolford. “Shifters are nature lovers. They like to hang out in forests. As you saw with Connor, clothes come off when they shift so they have areas where they hide things—extra food, clothes. That sort of thing.”

He leaned forward, his eyes searching my face. “Tell me everything you know that I haven’t asked.”

I wasn’t going to reveal that when in wolf form, a Shifter could communicate telepathically with other Shifters who were also in wolf form. That was Connor’s secret weapon. It was the only chance he had to save himself. The only chance the Shifters had to possibly stop word of their existence from reaching beyond Bio-Chrome.

But I knew I had to give him something. “The first time a guy transforms, he goes through it alone. But a girl always has her mate with her. If she doesn’t, she’ll die.”

“Why?”

“I have no idea. Maybe it’s some sort of evolutionary thing. Could have an impact on your experiments.”

He gave me a smile that made me feel as though I had ants crawling over my skin, as though I was suddenly one of his team, part of his inner group. “That’s good info to know. Thanks, Brittany.”

“Can I go now?”

“Yeah, sure. You’ll be staying in Monique’s room with her.”

“No, I want to go back to Connor.”

“Why would you want to go back to a cage with a cement floor and no comforts? Besides, didn’t you see the way Connor looked at you? He was disgusted.”

I had seen it. It was part of the reason that I needed to get back to him, to try to explain. And if he still hated me, it wouldn’t be any more than I hated myself at that moment. “Come on, Mason. Let me go back. I told you everything I know.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

“Then what do you have to bargain with?”

Mason and I dickered back and forth until we finally made one more deal. It would either bring me happiness…or death.

With his entourage in tow, Mason led me back to the prison room, his hand wrapped around my arm as though he thought I’d try to run off. I was carrying the blankets and sweatshirt that Monique had given me. The sun was setting, the shadows easing back in.

Connor was sitting up in the cage, his jeans on, the only sign of his earlier wounds the bloodied sweatshirt that he’d managed to throw out between the bars. It was a rumpled heap on the floor. With his arms crossed over his bare chest, he glared at us as we approached.

“So you’ve healed yourself,” Mason said.

Connor simply continued to glare.

“What? No witty comeback?” Mason prodded.

If looks could kill, Mason would have died on the spot in two seconds flat.

“I know my measures were a bit extreme, but we’re making remarkable progress and I needed to know if what we’re seeing in the lab ferrets when we inject them with the serum is how it’s supposed to work.”

I jerked my head around to stare at him. “You’re turning ferrets into wolves?”

He held up a finger and thumb with a small amount of space between them. “Very small wolves. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.” He tapped his head. “I’m thinking it’s the consciousness that makes the difference. You have to be able to think wolf to be wolf.”

“We’ve only been here a couple of days, and you already have a serum?” I was flabbergasted. He hadn’t told me they were that close to perfecting the serum.

“We’ve been working on the formula for a long time. We just had a few missing pieces. And now that we have those our puzzle is almost complete.” He turned his attention back to Connor. “I need to put her back in the cage, and I want to do it with as little trouble as possible. I have to open the door to do that. If you move a quarter of an inch toward it, Wilson will zap you.”

Connor didn’t move. Not even an eighth of an inch.

Once I crawled inside, the door to our prison clanged shut.

“Enjoy what little time you have together,” Mason said.

I stood up. “What are you talking about?”

“All good things must come to an end.”

“What does that mean?”

Ignoring me, he strode from the room, his little groupies trailing along behind him. I smacked my palm against the bars. “Son of a bitch.”

I wrapped my hands around the cold metal and pressed my forehead against it. I’d thought I was prepared to face Connor but I wasn’t prepared for the fury emanating from him. I had so much to explain and I didn’t know where to begin. Taking a deep breath, I reached down and picked up the bundle I’d dropped earlier.

I turned around. Connor was in the exact same position.

“I brought you a clean sweatshirt, and now we have some blankets.”

He studied me as though he had no idea who I was. I guess he really didn’t.

“But I guess what you really want is a Shifter, isn’t it?”

Slowly he uncrossed his arms. He drew up one knee and draped his wrist over it, but he wasn’t nearly as relaxed
as he was trying to appear because both fists were balled so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “When did you know you weren’t?”

Hearing his voice was like a gentle stroke across my heart. The words held no warmth, but neither were they ice. They were neutral as though he was testing things out as much as I was. I clutched the blankets. “During the full moon. It came. It went. I stayed the same. Not even a tingle. The night Mason got a jump on me, I was distracted. I’d just talked to my mom. She told me my dad was some guy she met in Europe.” I laughed bitterly. “Some human guy. All these years when she said he went through her transformation with her, then left…it was just a lie. She went through it with some guy named Michael. But he didn’t stay around either.” My mom and I seemed to have that in common—guys wouldn’t commit to us.

His gaze wandered slowly over me. Once. Twice. Three times.

“Say something,” I demanded.

“You smell like Monique.”

“They let me use her shower. These are her clothes. Your blood was on mine.” This conversation was so inane. Why didn’t he yell at me? Shout? Tell me how much he hated me?

Watching him was too hard. I started to look around
when my eyes were arrested by the mangled bent bars on the side near where he was sitting. “What happened there? Did that happen during the fight with the cougar?” It must have but I’d been too preoccupied with other things to notice.

“No.”

I gave my attention back to him. “Then
what
?”

He slowly unfolded his body in that predatory way he had and came forward until he was standing in front of me. Again his gaze wandered over me. He inhaled my scent, shook his head. “How could I have not known? Why didn’t any of us recognize the truth about you?”

I took a shaky breath. “I don’t know. Maybe I have just enough of my mother in me to fool everyone.”

He touched his knuckles to my cheek. “All these years, you believed you were a Shifter?”

I nodded. How could I even begin to explain? How could he possibly understand?

“After the full moon, you must have been—”

“Devastated.”

He put his arms around me, drew me close. I absorbed his warmth and his strength. Took the comfort he offered.

I didn’t know how long he held me. Eventually, when we sat down, he pulled me onto his lap and kept his arms around me.

“So what happened to the cage?” I finally asked.

“When I woke up and you weren’t here, I went berserk trying to get out, so I could kill Mason.”

“Oh my God, Connor, I’m so sor—”

“Will you stop apologizing for things that aren’t your fault? I didn’t know what to think. I was afraid you were dead or hurt. I even had this moment of insanity when I thought you and Mason…” His voice trailed off.

“Mason? Ew!”

“Yeah, I couldn’t see it either when rational thought returned. So I figured you were either dying or dead. When you walked through that door, it took everything in me not to let Mason see how glad I was that you were okay. But he’s listening in so now he knows.”

“I was so afraid that you’d be mad at me for not telling you sooner.”

Leaning back, he studied my face and stroked his thumb along my cheek. “I was stunned. And the timing sucked. But I understand how hard it would be to tell me—to tell anyone—that you weren’t a Shifter. I feel like I only just discovered you. Why would you trust someone you’re just getting to know with your deepest secret?”

“I should have. I trust you with my life.”

His eyes grew warm. “When I finally realized that banging my body against the bars wasn’t going to do anything except create a cycle of bruising and healing, I started
thinking about things. That bruise on your arm. It’s not from Mason. It’s from me. The day we wrestled.”

I wanted to deny it, but if I had any chance at all of salvaging what remained of Connor’s feelings for me, I had to be totally honest. I nodded. “I have one on my thigh, too. But it happens when someone is wrestling that aggressively. It’s not as though you meant to bruise me.”

“When you were standing in the media room—”

“It was too dark for me to see the empty seats. I was waiting for my eyes to adjust.”

“When I kissed you and raced off in wolf form, you didn’t follow because you couldn’t.”

I was embarrassed almost beyond enduring to admit it, but I murmured, “Yeah.”

“Hey,” he said tenderly.

It was only then that I realized tears were spilling from my eyes. I sniffed and wiped at the irritating wetness. “I’m sorry.”

“I told you not to apologize for what you can’t control.”

“It’s just that I hate being such a girl.”

“I like that you’re a girl.” He tucked my hair back behind my ear. I hadn’t bothered to braid it after the shower. “I like it a lot.”

He kissed one corner of my mouth and then the other. His touch was as gentle as a butterfly alighting on a petal.
He brushed his lips over mine and then his tongue followed the same path. Warmth swirled through me.

“I don’t care that you can’t shift,” he said quietly, before he settled his mouth over mine.

Easy enough to say when it was only the two of us in this small world, alone, not knowing what tomorrow might bring. But back in the real world, when he realized what an embarrassing freak I was, he wouldn’t feel the same.

But I had tonight and I planned to make the most of it.

Death hovered in the shadows. Through the slit of the window, the barest of moonlight filtered in. I’d always drawn comfort from it, but tonight it was Connor offering me solace.

Within our prison, the mound of blankets softened the floor beneath us. One blanket covered us. Connor never bothered to put on the sweatshirt I brought him, so my fingers had the luxury of dancing over his bare chest.

“Don’t be afraid, Brittany.” Connor’s voice was soft, gentle.

But how could I not be afraid? We both knew that tomorrow we might die. Facing death brought urgency to life. All the things we’d put off, all the things we hadn’t
dared to explore suddenly loomed before us as dreams that might never be fulfilled.

Connor held me close, his warm lips brushing over my temple. Beneath my palm I felt the steady pounding of his heart. How could his be so calm when mine was fluttering like a bird trapped in a cage?

He skimmed his mouth over my cheek. I heard him taking a deep breath, inhaling my fragrance. I pressed my face into the curve of his neck and took his unique scent into my lungs. Even here, inside this building where we were held captive, he smelled of the outdoors: evergreens, rich earth, sweet nectar, sharp foliage. He smelled of everything I love and more.

I’d waited so long to know the feel of his hands moving slowly over my back, urging me closer. I never wanted these moments to end.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered again.

Then the beast inside him that always hovered near the surface broke free and chased away the gentleness. He kissed me hungrily, desperately, as though with our wildness we could ward off the arrival of our enemy. I eagerly returned his kiss. I wanted to experience life with a passion I’ve never before known. I accepted that under normal circumstances we might not be tasting each other or running our hands over each other. But these circumstances weren’t normal.

We’d been stripped of everything except the intense craving to experience everything we’d soon be denied.

“I love you, Brittany,” he whispered.

Tremors cascaded through me. My heart pounded against my chest so hard that I was afraid my ribs might crack. He’d given me what I’d always longed for, what I absolutely didn’t deserve.

Would his love turn to hate when he discovered that I’d betrayed him…

That I’d betrayed all the Shifters—that I’d given Mason the final thing he needed to complete his experiments?