Darkmoon (#5) (The Cain Chronicles) (17 page)

“No moon?” Rylie asked, eyes wide.

The pack whispered among themselves, too quietly for Seth to hear.

One by one, everyone fell silent and turned to Rylie.

It took her a moment to look away from Abel long enough to realize that the pack expected guidance. “I guess this is on me, huh?” she asked, twisting her hands together. “Scott once told me that werewolves weren’t meant to live in this world. He said we were made in a time when the wilderness was bigger and civilization was smaller. If we could go somewhere like that…”

“Yeah, well, you see how much we can trust Scott,” Kiara said.

“But in this case, he’s right. This Haven sounds like it would be perfect for werewolves. It won’t just keep us safe from the Union—it will keep the world safe from
us
. We could be free.” Her whole face was glowing with the idea of it. “I want to go. Who would come with me?”

“I’d go,” Bekah said softly.

Trevin took a big bite of his burrito and spoke with his cheek pouched by carne asada and beans. “Me too. Sounds cool.”

Abel’s voice rose from the back of the room. His eyes had never left Rylie. “I go wherever you go.” Seth couldn’t think of the last time he had heard his brother speak so seriously. He considered punching Abel again, but only briefly.

“Sounds perfect, babe,” Gwyn said. “When can we go?”

Brianna lifted her hand awkwardly again. “We’ll have to finish the spell to resurrect you first. Magic doesn’t work right in the Haven. But as soon as that’s done, there’s no reason to wait around.”

Seth nodded. “The sooner, the better. Everything with the OPA’s just going to keep getting worse. But we
will
need to pack supplies. There are cities in the Haven, but it’s a long walk. We should be prepared to be walking for at least a few days.”

“That’s going to be a hell of a mess,” Abel said with a lopsided grin. “Let’s do it.”

Seth caught up with Bekah
after everyone dispersed. She walked fast, so she was already halfway to the gate before he managed to catch her attention. “Where’s Levi?” he asked when she turned.

He hadn’t even realized that Abel was following him until he circled around the other side of Bekah, as if to prevent her from escaping. “I haven’t seen him in days,” Bekah said, glancing uneasily between the brothers. “He told me that he was going to go for a drive, but he never came back.”

Abel snorted. “He probably ran away.”

“I thought he might have gone back to Greenville, or wherever Tate’s tour went this time. Levi’s been really hung up on him lately. They’ve even been texting each other again.”

“Sick,” Abel said.

Seth didn’t disagree, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. “Wait, go back. Greenville?”

“Levi met him there a few weeks back. The whole promotional tour’s been crossing the country off and on for months to build support for H.R. 2076. They’re on the second leg of it now, I think.”

The last time Seth had heard about Greenville, it hadn’t been in reference to any promotional tours. It had been because of a supernatural riot. That was awfully coincidental—a little
too
coincidental. “Has it been to San Francisco?” Bekah nodded. “Where else?”

“I don’t know. I’m not following it as closely as Levi.”

“What about Boise?” Seth asked. He had heard about riots there, too.

She shook her head helplessly, so he pulled out his phone and started running a search. “What are you thinking?” she asked, twisting a honey-colored curl around her finger.

Abel had already caught on. “Boise. San Francisco. Greenville.”

There was a list of tour locations. Seth scrolled through it, and those three cities were there—and more. Bekah peeked over his shoulder. “So the tour is following the riots?”

“No,” he said. “The riots are following the tour.”

And Tate’s tour was going to stop in the nearby town in just over two weeks.

Seth turned off his phone and squeezed it in his fist. If Tate’s tour was coming, then so would the OPA—and if his gut instinct was correct, an incident would follow. There weren’t any demon clubs in town. There wasn’t anything supernatural at all. Nothing except the werewolf ranch, which would be perfect for a high-profile raid.

They had to be in the Haven before that happened.

“What are we going to do about this?” Bekah asked.

“Nothing,” Abel said. “Why should we do anything? We’re hightailing it out of this entire freaking dimension as soon as possible. I don’t give two flying shits if there’s a government conspiracy.”

Seth had to agree—very reluctantly. “Our priority is getting the pack to safety. Now, we have a deadline.” He touched Bekah’s shoulder. “We don’t need to panic about Levi yet. He probably got distracted by Tate and lost track of the time.”

“Probably.” She didn’t sound very convinced. “I was just planning to ask around town. It’s not a big place. If he’s around, someone will have seen him, and I want to bring him back before the next moon.” She patted Seth’s hand. “Be careful here.”

Bekah broke into a run again. Like most werewolves, she could easily run fifty miles in a day. She didn’t need a car to get around.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Abel said, “I bet you twenty bucks that Levi’s dead.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining.”

Seth kept his mouth closed. If he tried to speak, something he would regret was sure to escape. Something that would lead to more fistfights.

He started back for the house, and his brother followed him.

“This Haven thing’s a good move,” Abel said without a hint of sarcasm. “You done good, bro.”

Seth glanced at him. “Really?”

But Abel wasn’t listening. He strolled alongside Seth with his eyes fixed on the orchard. “Whenever shit’s getting real, you’re the guy with the plan. You got the bodyguard for Rylie and you hooked us up with the Haven. If the pack survives, it won’t be ‘cause of me.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “You wouldn’t run off when she’s going into labor.”

“I’m always going to protect Rylie.”

“Guess you probably deserve her. I know she deserves you.” Abel shook his head as if to clear it. “I’ve got stuff to do. Don’t get yourself killed while I’m not watching your ass, okay?”

Seth watched him walk away feeling stunned. After Rylie admitted that she had been getting too close to Abel, that wasn’t the way he had expected their next conversation to develop at all. He had been expecting—even anticipating—to get into a fight. An ugly, messy fight. But something had changed with Abel. Something big.

And Seth had no idea what it meant.

Time passed, although Levi wasn’t
sure how much. He suspected that days and nights were slipping past him, because every time he opened his eyes, he saw something different: sometimes a medical facility, with his arms strapped to the bed; at other times, he saw the inside of an ambulance, or silver bars, or a blank ceiling. He thought he heard Tate’s voice fade in and out of his periphery. The moments of consciousness never lasted long.

Levi finally woke up in a cage.

It wasn’t a cage intended for wild animals. It was the kind of cage that humans used on other humans, with a one-way mirror and a camera in the corner. He was stretched out on the cold, bare floor, and he could feel himself being watched.

He got to his feet with a groan. He had long since healed all of his injuries from the car crash, but he still had a heavy, sticky feeling in his throat. They must have drugged him.

Levi’s head was clear enough now that he could study the room and the smells contained within. The protective mesh over the camera was clearly silver. Everything else smelled like Lemon Pledge. The room had been scrubbed down recently—but not since Cain had last been inside.

Cain
. His stench was everywhere. So much for the Union putting that bastard in prison.

The door opened, and Levi wasn’t surprised to see Tate slip inside. “You’re awake,” his ex-boyfriend said, looking relieved.

Levi bared his teeth and growled. “Traitor.”

Tate backed up at the sight of his glower. “What are you talking about? The Union’s been taking care of you since you had that car crash and went comatose.”

“If they’re taking care of me, then why am I in an interrogation room? You surrendered me to the pack’s greatest enemy!”

“Who?”

“Cain!”

Tate laughed and shook his head. “He’s not your enemy. He’s just on my security team. This has to be a misunderstanding.”

It was only then that Levi saw a tattoo on Tate’s arm. It was mostly concealed by his formal shirt, and he wouldn’t have noticed it at all if not for the scent of fresh ink. Levi crossed the room in two strides, grabbed Tate’s wrist, and pushed the sleeve back.

It was a bleeding apple.

How the hell had Levi missed that tattoo? They’d had sex, for God’s sake, and he hadn’t seen so much as a spot of ink on Tate’s skin. Of course, he had kept his shirt on—and Levi wasn’t exactly paying much attention to Tate’s arms. “Why did you join with Cain?” Levi asked.

“I’m not
with
Cain,” Tate said. “This mark’s just an organization symbol. Kind of like a secret fraternity.”

“Cain’s secret fraternity.”

“No, this is for the Apple. It’s so much bigger than one guy.”

But Scott had said that the bleeding apple tattoo was the mark of Cain. If it wasn’t his symbol, then why had all the Union traitors been wearing it? And where did Scott get it done? Why would he lie?

The questions whirled through Levi’s mind, but none of them were as pressing as the immediate problem: the fact that he was held by the Union. And Cain.

The door opened, and Cain appeared, as if summoned by his name. “Levi,” he greeted. “Hope you’re comfortable.”

Levi dropped Tate and lunged at him, hands outstretched. Cain backhanded him with a fist. “Hey!” Tate protested as Levi hit the ground at his feet.

It took Levi a moment to catch his breath from the impact. “You’re supposed to be in prison. Yasir arrested you.”

“Yasir made a deal with the wrong people. Union HQ wasn’t happy that he negotiated with a werewolf pack, and he ended up in prison instead.” Cain grinned. “Fortunately, I’m too much of an asset to lock away.” He faced Tate. “Who let you in here?”

“I just asked the guards—”

“Never mind, I don’t care. Get out. We need to talk.”

Tate folded his arms and didn’t move to leave. “Yeah, I’d sure as hell say that we do. Why’s Levi in an interview room when I was told that he was being held for medical care?”

“He’s a criminal werewolf and our prisoner.”

“Nobody mentioned prisoners when I agreed to work with the Union. And they definitely didn’t mention beatings. What are you playing at here? Why do you even want Levi?”

Cain already looked impatient with the line of discussion. “Captive breeding program. Werewolves birth better, more powerful werewolves. Levi’s a good candidate for fathering a few pups.” He glanced at his watch. “And we’re about to make a move to get the rest of his pack, too, so we better get moving. You have a speech to give in your hometown.”

Shock made Tate’s face go slack. Understanding crept over his features. “You’ve been using my speeches as distractions?”

“What did you think they’re for? It’s not because we care what the public thinks.” Cain clapped a hand down on Tate’s collar and moved to drag him out of the room.

“Wait—wait!” Tate shouted, but Cain was too strong.

“I’ll be back for you later,” Cain told Levi.

Then the door was closed, and all hope was gone with it.

S
IXTEEN

The Shower

When Rylie emerged from the
house on the next full moon, she was surprised to find James waiting for her. He had left the woolen pea coat somewhere now that it was warming up, and instead wore a white button-down shirt, charcoal gray slacks, and black leather gloves.

She sat next to him on the porch swing, and Brody hung back against the wall, picking dirt from underneath his fingernails with a switchblade. He was just as quiet and unassuming as usual, but he stayed close—close enough that he could break James’s neck if he made a move toward Rylie.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?” James asked.

It really was. A warm, misty drizzle had been falling on the ranch all day, but ended once night fell; now there was nothing but a low fog and pleasantly humid air. Fresh blossoms swayed with the long grass, filling the air with the sweet perfume of pollen.

She took a deep breath and sighed. She was probably imagining it, but she thought that she could smell the moon hiding behind the clouds.

“What’s the news?” Rylie asked, stretching her legs out to give her stomach more room. She could barely breathe with the babies crammed under her ribs.

“Brianna and I finished designing the spells that I’ll need to resurrect Gwyneth and Scott. It was more of a challenge than I expected. Kind of refreshing, actually. I haven’t had this much fun with magic in years.”

Her eyes widened. “So you can fix them now?”

“No,” James said.

Rylie’s moment of hope immediately vanished, and her face crumpled. He patted her on the back. The gesture was probably meant to be consoling, but it made her skin crawl.

He went on. “I can’t fix them
yet
. It’s an issue of power generation. I can’t find anything that will supply enough energy for the spell short of death.”

“So you’re saying that we would have to commit human sacrifice after all.”

“I’m saying that if Seth is right, and we’re going to be raided in two weeks, we’re out of time. We shouldn’t rule out any possibilities if we hope to resurrect Gwyn and Scott before everyone moves to the Haven.”

Rylie shook her head. “That’s not a possibility. We can’t just
kill
someone.”

“One life in exchange for two.” He shrugged. “The sacrifice wouldn’t necessarily need to be human. A powerful demon, or any angel, would work as well. We all have enemies. I’m sure you can think of at least one person whose life you don’t value as highly as your aunt’s.”