Ghost Moon (23 page)

One was large and balding. The other was smaller and more slender, with a nose that had been broken.

Logan had never seen them before, but they matched Quinn’s description of the men who had buried the body. Both of them were holding guns as they walked slowly through the woods.

What did they expect? To find Caleb lying on the ground somewhere?

And what if they walked into the cave where Rinna and Zarah were hiding?

Logan’s jaw clenched. He’d left his life mate exposed. He slipped over to Ross, giving his head a shake, pointing in the direction of the cave.

Ross nodded, then inclined his own head toward the SUV pulled up along the road.

Logan was pretty sure what Ross had in mind. He wanted to read the license plate before going back to the cave. He didn’t like it. But he understood the reasoning.

They separated, Ross heading downhill and Logan makinga circle around the men, before racing to the cave.

When he arrived, he saw the situation wasn’t what he had expected. He couldn’t see Zarah, and he had to assume she was inside.

His gaze went from the partially blocked entrance to the white wolf who stood guard. Her eyes were fierce and her front paws were planted firmly on the ground.

It was Rinna.

He put back his ears and growled at her. The wolf languagewas plain. But he wished he could tell her in words to get into the cave where she was out of sight. She growled back and stood her ground, and he knew that the woman he’d married hadn’t changed all that much. She was going to do what she wanted. Sometimes that meshed with what
he
wanted. Sometimes not.

QUINN
bent over Caleb, wishing she had brought more supplies with her into her own world. But she had dashed off in hot pursuit.

In the cave, Caleb had proved he was capable of escape— with no idea where he was going.

Seeing no alternative, she pulled the shirt over his head, cut it into strips with her knife and used the strips of cloth to bind his hands and feet. She hated leaving him that way— because if an enemy came along, he was helpless. But comingback and finding him missing would be a disaster.

After tying him up, she brought dry leaves to cover him, wishing she had a better alternative. Kneeling beside him, she kissed him on the cheek before saying, “Caleb, if you can hear me, try to stay calm. I’m sorry I had to tie you up. But I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

He didn’t wake, and she knew she had to hurry. With one last look at him, she left the shelter of the woods and started toward Sun Acres.

She had come here with the vague idea of getting help, but as she hurried toward the city, she began to firm her plans. She knew of an old woman named Pamina who had been summoned to Griffin’s house for deep healing sessions.That was the logical person to ask. She would explain the problem to her. And if Pamina couldn’t help, hopefully she would know someone who could.

Quinn ran as far as she could. When the stitch in her side became too bad, she slowed to a fast walk, praying that she didn’t encounter any slavers—or Baron’s soldiers.

When she finally saw the city walls, she breathed out a small sigh. She had made it this far. But she had no idea what she was going to find beyond the wall. She’d kept telling Zarah that Griffin was all right. But he could be dead. And if so, then she was heading for disaster.

Shading her eyes, she studied the scene before her. It seemed peaceful enough, but that could be an illusion.

Last time she’d been here, soldiers disguised as thugs had stopped her. But she’d been able to show them who she was. This time, because she hadn’t been summoned home, she didn’t have her talisman. Worse, Griffin wasn’t expecting her.

Could she get a message to Draden? Focusing on the link between them, she sent out a message, unable to tell if it had gotten through.

Feeling the hairs on the back of her neck prickle, she crossed the remaining distance to the gate. One lone woman.

Teeth clenched, she fought the impulse to call out and say she was coming to see Griffin. It made sense that he had someone out here—like last time. But if he wasn’t in control of the city, using his name would be the worst thing she could do.

She was about eighty yards away when four men armed with swords and knives leaped out at her from a hidden hole in the ground. As they surrounded her, she saw that their hair was dusty and matted. Their clothing was rough. And none of them had shaved in days. They looked like outlaws from the badlands. But they could be soldiers— stationed in a different location from last time. Griffin’s men. Or Baron’s.

Unwilling to take a chance, she went for the gun in her fanny pack, but two of the men closed in on her, grabbing her arms and holding her immobile.

Another ruffian stepped forward. “Who are you?”

She raised her chin. “Who are you?”

“I’ll ask the questions.”

She had no choice now. She had to answer. Her heart was pounding, but she kept her voice steady. “Quinn. From Griffin’s house. I have urgent business with him. He’s expecting me, and he’ll punish you if he learns something’s happened to me.”

“He didn’t tell us to expect anyone. What are you doing out here?”

So they were his men. Or maybe not.

“I was on a mission for him. If you ask him, he’ll vouch for me.”

“You say you work for him. Who runs his household?”

“Philip.”

“And who is in charge of the female slaves?”

“Branda.”

The man looked at her with narrowed eyes. Intelligent eyes. He was dressed rough, but that appeared to be part of a pose. “You know some facts, but maybe somebody gave you the information so you can get close to him.”

Quinn swallowed. “You’re his soldiers? Keeping guard out here?”

“Like I have to tell you anything,” the man snapped.

“I know you have to be cautious. I know about Griffin’s household because I live there. I came back to give him informationabout his wife. Let me show you. I have somethingin my pack for him.”

The man reached toward the pack and eyed the zipper, then stopped his hand. “How does it open?”

“I’ll show you.” Careful to move slowly, she pulled the zipper tab and opened the fanny pack.

The soldier reached inside, felt around, and closed his hand around the gun. Pulling it out, he turned it first one way and then the other.

Quinn winced. “Be careful with that.”

“What is it?”

“A powerful weapon.”

He smoothed his thumb along the barrel. “It’s good qualitymetal.”

Casually, he pointed it at her and she flinched back.

“So it is dangerous,” he murmured.

“Yes. That can kill,” she said, her voice deathly calm. “Point it at the ground.”

“How does it work?”

“It has projectiles inside. They come out the front when you pull the trigger.”

“This?” He looked at the pistol, slipping his finger inside the guard. It was a Glock, and there was no other safety catch.

“Watch out.”

Ignoring the warning, he held the gun away from him and squeezed the trigger.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The bullet hit
the stone wall of the city, making a twanging sound.

All the men around them clapped their hands to their ears, and one threw himself to the ground. From the walkwayalong the top of the wall, more guards watched in alarm, some notching arrows into bows.

One of the men next to Quinn screamed and rubbed his arm.

The soldier who had fired looked stunned. “What happened?”

“You shot off the gun. The bullet hit the wall, and a shell casing—the part that’s ejected when you fire—hit your friend. But it’s no worse than a bee sting. Lucky for you the bullet didn’t kill someone.”

The man held the gun away from him as though he had grabbed a poisonous snake and didn’t know how to kill it.

“Get up,” he growled to the man on the ground.

The soldier scrambled to his feet.

“Slip your finger out of the trigger guard so you won’t fire accidentally,” Quinn said.

He did as she asked, still looking shell-shocked.

“Give it back.”

He balked at that. “So you can kill me with it?”

“I won’t do that.”

He kept the gun, holding it by the butt. “Where did you get this thing?”

“It’s from the old times,” she answered, her ears still ringingfrom the shot at close range.

“It doesn’t look old.”

“It’s cleaned up. Griffin gave it to me—for protection,” she added, lying through her teeth.

“I’ve heard of these. I’ve never seen one.”

“Keep the gun for now,” she said in a calm voice. “But let me prove I’m Griffin’s friend.”

When she reached toward the fanny pack, he pointed the weapon at her, and she flinched.

“What else in Carfolian Hell do you have in there?”

“Pictures. Let me show you. I can prove I’ve been with Griffin’s wife.”

Still holding the gun, he reached into the pack and pulled out the envelope of photos.

“I hope for your sake, this isn’t another trick.”

“The gun wasn’t a trick! I told you it was dangerous.”

A
scream from the gravesite made the hairs on Logan’s back bristle. When he whirled to look behind him, he saw nothing. Knowing that if he ran to help Ross, Rinna would follow him, he growled at her again. Seeing his dilemma, Zarah came forward,knelt down awkwardly and put her arm around the white wolf.

Rinna looked at her. She whined softly, but she lay down. Logan breathed out a sigh before turning and dashing down the hill.

He arrived on the scene in time to see Ross in hot pursuit of the men. But he was too far behind them to catch up, and they made it into their SUV. Then the engine roared, and the car shot out of the woods. Ross ran after it, snapping and snarling.

He couldn’t catch them, but he’d obviously scared the shit out of them.

Both wolves waited to make sure the car wasn’t coming back, then they turned and trotted back up the hill.

When they reached the cave, Rinna was still in wolf form guarding the entrance.

“What happened?” Zarah asked.

Logan lifted his head and nodded slowly. Then he and Ross returned to the trees where they’d left their clothing. When they came back again, Rinna had also changed to humanform and pulled on her T-shirt and pants.

“Do you have to put yourself in danger?” Logan asked her.

“Do you?” she challenged.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I had to defend Zarah.”

Zarah cleared her throat, getting his attention—and Rinna’s. “I could have stopped them with the lamp.”

“Maybe you couldn’t have stopped a bullet.”

She winced, then asked, “Who were they?”

“I’m pretty sure they were the men who buried the body in the woods.” Ross pointed down the hill. “They’re gone, but I got their license number.”

“Good going,” Logan said.

“You scared them away?” Zarah asked.

Ross grinned. “Yeah. They weren’t expecting to find a big bad wolf in the woods.”

Rinna looked toward the road. “Did they see our car?”

“I don’t think so. We were parked on the other side of the hill,” Logan answered. “And they didn’t get very far from their SUV.”

“Thank the Great Mother,” Rinna breathed.

“But we should go,” Logan said.

“And I want to check the plate,” Ross said.

As they made their way down the hill, Rinna looked back toward the cave. “I hope Quinn’s all right.”

“And Caleb,” Zarah added.

They were all silent as they walked on.

Finally, Rinna said, “I can’t imagine what it would be like—not being able to be a wolf.”

Logan heard the tremor in her voice and slipped his arm around her shoulder, holding her against his side. “Did you think of that when you changed?”

“Yes.”

“So did I,” Logan answered, his voice gritty.

“Yeah,” Ross agreed. “He’s got a hell of a life ahead of him.”

“If he survives,” Zarah murmured.

“You think he’ll live?” Rinna asked.

“I wish I knew,” Zarah answered. “He was very sick. And we don’t know the conditions . . . in my world.”

“Griffin is fine!” Rinna said.

“I want to believe that. I hope Quinn can bring me some news.”

THE
guard held up the envelope. “Open it.”

Careful not to make any sudden moves, she pulled out the photos. Shuffling through the contents, she held up one to the man.

He gasped as he looked at her and Zarah standing together.Logan had taken it the day after they’d arrived. Probablyhe’d been having fun, showing Zarah the wonders of his world. Now it was coming in very handy.

“How did you get that?” the leader of the men demanded.

“It’s a special process.”

One of the men backed away from her. Several pointed at the photograph.

“I can show you how it works,” Quinn said. “Can I reach inside my bag again?”

“Yes.”

She brought out a small digital camera.

“Another weapon?” the leader of the group demanded.

“No. It’s called a camera. I am an adept. I operate it with my brain waves,” she lied because she knew they wouldn’t believe her if she told them it had a computer chip inside.

She held it up toward the leader.

“Stop.” He pointed to one of his men. “Do it to him.”

“Okay.”

She captured the soldier in the image rectangle and pushed down on the shutter, then changed to viewing mode and turned the camera around so he could see the picture. “I can show you the image in here. But I do not have the equipment to make a copy on paper,” she said.

The man drew in a quick breath. “That’s me.”

“Yes.”

The leader craned his neck to see, and she turned the imagetoward him. He looked sorry that he hadn’t been the one to have his picture shot.