Darkmoon (#5) (The Cain Chronicles) (22 page)

Not now!

“Brody,” she panted, holding her stomach. “I can’t—”

“Get ready to run. I’ll cover you.” He leaned back, kicked his door open, and jumped out of the car. “Go!”

She didn’t have any other choice. Rylie spilled out of the car behind him and tried to run, even though she could feel the contraction in the small of her back and down her thighs and she could barely breathe, much less see.

The SUVs had them surrounded, but Brody fired calmly, one shot at a time, and every bullet hit something. Men shouted. Glass shattered.

She kept her arms over her head and didn’t look where she was going. All she focused on was taking one more step, getting deeper into the forest, escaping the sounds of gunfire.

Rylie stumbled through the trees. She heard a deep scream behind her—Brody?

She didn’t stop to look.

The forest was a tangled mess of branches and fallen logs and rocks. Ever since she first changed, Rylie had been comfortable in the wild, like she was a part of it. But her wolfish instincts had abandoned her among the stress and pain. She tripped and had to fight to haul herself up the rocks.

And the contractions swept over her, one after another, with barely a break in between.

Somehow, she reached the top of a nearby ridge, and nobody had found her. She rested on all fours to try to catch her breath.

She could see the SUVs below, all four of them. The one that Brody disabled was near the road. The other three were still where she had left them behind. Rylie had climbed higher than she expected; all of the black-clad men were tiny beneath her.

One of the men wasn’t wearing black. He wore jeans and a t-shirt, and he was being forced face-down onto the ground.

They had Brody. She had to save him.

But another contraction swept over her, making her eyes blur and ears ring. How could she expect to save someone else when the chances of saving herself weren’t very good?

The Haven. She had to get to the Haven—and she had to do it before the babies came.

Rylie kept running.

Abel and Seth prowled along
the roof of the old high school while waiting for Tate’s speech. It looked like the entire town had turned out to listen, which wasn’t saying much; there were maybe three hundred people milling around the lawn.

The stage was empty, and Tate wasn’t scheduled to talk for another ten minutes. The remaining members of the pack were spread throughout the crowd, watching for the Union, and Seth had his favorite rifle hanging from his shoulder and a pistol at the small of his back. If Cain showed his face, they would be ready for him.

Abel sat on the edge of the roof, feet dangling over the side. “How was Rylie this morning?” he asked.

Seth tightened the strap on his rifle and checked the safety. He didn’t need to do either. He was just fidgeting so that he wouldn’t have to meet his brother’s eyes. “She seemed good. I think she was hurt that you weren’t there.”

Abel grunted.

Pacing along the edge of the roof, Seth glanced at the tour buses again—still there—and went back to Abel.

“You have to come to the Haven with us,” Seth said.

Abel remained silent.

The crowd below stirred. Seth braced his elbows on the roof, propped his rifle up, and lowered his eye to the hunting scope.

The door to the American flag-covered bus opened, and Tate stepped out.

Seth tracked Tate’s progress across the lawn. He was smiling and waving to the crowd, but even the makeup caked to his skin couldn’t hide his pallor. He didn’t look good. “Rylie told me what you guys did the other night,” Seth said. He felt rather than saw Abel turn to face him, but still, he didn’t speak. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. More than I should.”

The silence between them was underscored with the crowd’s rising murmur. Tate mounted the stage, and Seth used his scope to search for Cain. He wasn’t among the entourage, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there.

He spotted Crystal and Pyper near the back of the crowd. They were alert and sniffing the air. Not exactly sneaky.

Tate talked for a while, but Seth had already heard it all on the news a hundred times, so he didn’t pay any attention.

“It pisses me off to think that you’d be macking on the girl I was going to marry just a few months ago. I mean, we’re not just brothers. We’re all that remains of our family, aside from Cain, and I like you at least a little bit better than him.”

Abel was motionless, but Seth knew that he was listening.

The bus doors remained open. Seth scanned the crowd nearby as he went on.

“Who wants to be in a relationship where the girl’s always thinking about someone else? I mean, yeah, I could probably talk Rylie into staying with me. She’s loyal and all, and dear God, do I love her. But if making her stay means that I’m going to lose my best friend—”

“I smell him,” Abel interrupted.

Seth lifted his head. “What?”

“Cain. I smell him on the wind.”

Okay, so they still weren’t talking about Rylie. That was fine. At least they could be productive in the meantime.

He stood, shouldered his rifle, and drew a pistol instead. “Take point.”

Abel led him to the back of the building, and they dropped down one at a time. He sniffed the air and headed toward the back of the school complex. Tate had started giving his speech, so his voice echoed around them. Something about faith and patriotism and national security. Seth might have been imagining it, but he didn’t sound like he had his usual conviction.

They looped toward the buses, and even though Seth kept the black handgun close to his leg so that it wouldn’t be as obvious, his finger didn’t move far from the trigger.

“I never would have started dating Rylie if I had known she would be a problem between us,” Seth went on in a low voice.

Abel rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You’re going to keep on with this bros before hos bullshit?”

“Is it bullshit? Really?”

“Yes, it is.” He jerked his chin toward the buses. “I think he’s inside the one on the other side.”

They circled around the members of Tate’s security team. There were only two of them remaining by the buses; judging by the black polo shirts, they were a Union detail. It was easy to avoid their notice. Almost too easy. Did Cain want to be found?

The door on the opposite bus was closed. Seth peered through the window, but it was too dark to see anything. “I just think you should reconsider coming to Haven. There’s got to be a way we can resolve this whole Rylie thing that doesn’t involve breaking apart our family. The babies are going to need us—
all
of us.”

“Don’t you
want
to get rid of me?” Abel asked, exasperated.

“No. I want you to be happy. I want Rylie to be happy. And I don’t want any of us to be alone.”

His brother scoffed. “What are you trying to say? That we should share?”

“I’m saying that I think she’s happier with you, and I’m prepared to be the bigger man and get out of the way, if that’s what it takes for us to be a family.”

“You mean…”

“Don’t make me say it out loud,” Seth said. “On the count of three?”

Abel nodded and drew his own handgun. They didn’t need to hide their weapons anymore; they were sheltered between the buses, and nobody could see them.

Seth counted down on his fingers.
Three. Two. One
.

He leaned back and kicked in the door of the tour bus.

They jumped in. Abel took the driver’s compartment on the left, and Seth went right, aiming his gun down the length of the bus. “Cain!” Seth shouted, but nobody responded.

He threw open the bathroom door. It was empty inside, but a fan had been positioned near the window with a pile of clothing in front of it. Abel stepped in, grabbed the shirt, and sniffed it.

“This is what I smelled,” Abel said. “Cain’s dirty laundry.” Disgusted, he flung the clothes to the floor.

Seth lowered his gun. “He wanted to lure us onto the buses. Why?”

“I think he just wanted you to be distracted,” said a man near the entrance. The brothers aimed in an instant. It was Tate—free of his entourage, looking sickly, and closing the door quietly behind him.

“What’s going on?” Abel growled, grabbing his collar.

Tate’s eyes widened at the sight of his scars. “Who are
you
?”

“I’m Abel,” he said. When there was no recognition in his eyes, he said, “Seth’s brother.”

“Oh.
Oh
. Oh shit, you’re a werewolf.” Tate lifted his hands to try to loosen Abel’s grip, and that was when a tattoo peeking out of Tate’s sleeve caught Seth’s eye. It was just above the joint of his left arm, about the size of a quarter, and shaped like an apple. He couldn’t see the entire thing, but Seth had the sinking suspicion that it would be bleeding.

Seth ripped Tate’s sleeve open as Abel watched. It was definitely the Apple. The mark of Cain.

Tate tried to pull away, but Abel’s grip was crushingly tight on his wrist. “What is this?” he asked as he lifted Tate’s arm.

The younger man struggled, but couldn’t break free. “It’s a tattoo.”

Abel rolled his eyes. “You think I’m stupid? Of course I know it’s a tattoo. What the hell is it doing on your arm?”

“I can explain everything, but not right now. You guys have to help me. Cain has Levi.”

“Wait. You know where Cain’s holding Levi?” Seth asked.

“Yeah, it’s this temporary base the Union contractors built outside Tandy, to the southwest. And he’s probably back there by now—he’s usually with my tour, but he left to get Rylie. He said that he was going to capture the whole pack.” Tate swallowed hard. He looked sickly, like he hadn’t slept in days. “I had no idea what he had planned. I’m sorry.”

Cold fear penetrated Seth’s heart. Cain had left to get Rylie? From where? Did he know that she was moving to the Haven?

“Keep holding him,” he told Abel, who looked more than happy to comply. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed for Scott, who picked up in two rings. “Are Rylie and Brody there yet?”

“We haven’t seen anyone at all since we secured the cave,” Scott said. “But we’re ready to go whenever all of you get here.”

Seth swore under his breath. Rylie and Brody had left eight hours ago, before the sun had risen. If they hadn’t gotten there, then something must have gotten to them first. “Keep an eye out, and be careful,” Seth said, and he hung up.

“Can you guys help me?” Tate asked as Abel finally released him. “We have to get Levi away from the Union.”

Seth closed his eyes and counted to ten. Once he was capable of speaking calmly, he said, “Okay. The plan hasn’t changed. The only difference is that Tate can show us how to find the base, and now Rylie’s going to be there, too.”

Abel’s eyes blazed with heat. “Cain wouldn’t take her back there. He’s got something else planned.”

“Where else could she be?” Seth asked.

“I don’t know.” His voice deepened to a growl. “But I’m gonna find her.”

T
WENTY

Special Delivery

Rylie staggered through the forest.
The mud squelched between her toes and sucked her heels into the mire with every step. She wasn’t sure how long she had been running anymore—all she could think was that she needed to stay on her feet, keep moving, and put as much distance between her and Cain as possible.

Another contraction hit. It was like being squeezed from her head to her toes. She gasped and braced herself against a tree as her vision blurred.

Time passed, and it felt like hours, though she knew it had to have been only seconds. Stephanie had said that the contractions would never last longer than ninety seconds at a time. Of course, Stephanie had also said that her body wouldn’t give her more pain than she could handle, and that was obviously a huge lie.

With the few seconds of rest between contractions, she sagged against the tree, cheek to bark, and dug her fingers in to hold herself.
Have to keep moving. Have to find the pack…

The wind picked up, and she could smell Cain on the breeze. His smell was so much like Seth and Abel’s. It was musky, masculine, dangerous. Would Rylie’s babies smell like that, too? Like Eleanor’s spawn? It was a ridiculous worry to have when she was lost in the forest, but she couldn’t help but be fixated on the idea.

Another contraction. Between the pain and Cain’s smell, Rylie found herself lost in vivid memory: being locked in a silver cage with Eleanor pacing outside; finding Abel bleeding out from a stab wound his mother had inflicted; watching as Pagan shattered Seth’s hand at Eleanor’s orders.

It was Eleanor’s blood in her womb, and Rylie knew that was why the contractions were so merciless. The pregnancy had been damned from the start.

Distant motion. The sound of voices, footsteps.

Don’t stop.

Her vision cleared long enough for her to climb down a valley filled with rocks. A tiny waterfall trickled from a brook above, making the stones slick with moss and moisture. It was so cold that it instantly numbed her fingers.

There was a shadowy place at the bottom of the rocks, and that was where she rode out the next contraction, fighting not to make a sound. Each one was longer and more intense than the last. She tried to breathe and relax and get the contractions to slow. Stephanie must have taught her a hundred coping techniques. Rylie could wait it out.

Something warm gushed between her legs. She looked down to see the dirt splashed with thick, clear fluid. It wasn’t from the brook. Her water had broken.

There wasn’t enough relaxing or breathing in the world to stop the contractions now.

Rylie was alone in the wilderness with hunters on her trail, and she was about to give birth two months early.

It was surprisingly easy to
hijack a tour bus with the help of the tour’s headliner. Abel left to hunt for Rylie, convinced that Cain wouldn’t have taken her back to Tandy, and Seth quietly gathered the pack. Tate sent his entourage on some ridiculous errand—something about how he wanted a sandwich from his favorite bistro before they left town again.