Remembered by Moonlight (12 page)

His voice was whiskey-warm and just as soothing.

“Come to bed,
sha.”

Her conflicts dropped along with her dress. She stepped away from both easily.

Max scooted over, drawing her down with the light clasp of their hands into the warm hallow his body had occupied. Opening one arm wide to invite her up against him to share more of that delicious heat. Her palm traveled across the crisply furred plain of his chest. The presence of his gym shorts would be no deterrent if the moment progressed in that direction. But it wasn’t lust that stole about her like the band of his arm.

“How was your evening?” she murmured contentedly.

“The company was pleasant, the meal not so much. Yours?”

“I’m glad to be home.”

Home. Into the curl of his embrace. Riding the rock of his breathing.

“We need to talk,” she said at last, resigned to unburdening her spirit. But his fingertips touched to her lips.

“Not tonight.”

The deep vibration of his words stirred a shiver across her skin. “Oh? You have something else on your mind, Savoie?”

“Just this,
cher.
Sharing a moment beneath the covers without words. Just listening to each other’s heart beat.”

Everything inside her melted. “Sounds wonderful.”

“Close your eyes, Detective. I’ve got you.”

And having her became something Max Savoie hadn’t expected.
She
was something he hadn’t expected. Warm and soft yet tough. Razor sharp but still tender. A complex blend of opposites. Humbling and exhilarating all at once, her courageous strength twisted his emotions like damp wash in a wringer. Her devotion and love were the gentle breezes playing about them until they flew light, unweighted, and free. And her passion . . . The memory of her passion warmed across the surface and heated what lay below, making him burn from inside out with undeniable need.

The soft sound she made as she went boneless in sleep triggered a seismic protectiveness gentled by the feathering of her breath across his skin. The riot of his chasing thoughts quieted into deep, blissful peace. He focused only on her, inhaling slowly, letting her scent tease until he trembled.

Even though his mind was emptied of the past they’d shared, his heart knew her. Whether he found those memories or not, this was the woman he’d chosen for himself for all the qualities he’d rediscovered. Any doubt that they belonged together faded into insignificance as another priority arose.

Keeping her safe.

From him.

Cee Cee slept in. Something she’d never done until recently. Until her body began funneling energy into a new, growing life.

The desire to roll back into the nesting covers to indulge her need for rest ended when she heard Max on the phone in the other room. Smiling, she closed her eyes and listened for a moment, not able to hear his words yet comforted nonetheless. That low, rumbling tone seemed to release a tranquilizing hormone telling her all was well.

She’d always loved the sound of his voice, even when they were at odds. Words, so difficult to pry from Jimmy Legere’s stoic enforcer, had begun in an awkward trickle that widened into a teasing stream. Clever, baiting, simmering with ambiguity. But only with her. His quirky comments had bemused her . . .
I could smell your perfume from River Road . . .
Strange, impossible observations that she came to understand as truth when she realized at last what Max Savoie really was.

For all their differences, they were very much the same. Outsiders. Outcasts. Broken. Deceived. Guarded and suspicious of everyone and anything that offered happiness. Kindred damaged spirits who’d made each other whole.

This child she carried would not be raised within that uncertain limbo of doubt that eroded confidence and fostered fear. He or she would be anchored by love and security and by the power of knowing what the past, present and future offered. That foundation began here, now, with preparing Max for what was to come.

He was pacing in front of the windows, movements agitated, thoughts far away. He rubbed his temples as if troubled by a brewing headache. The quick cut of his attention rapidly directed elsewhere wasn’t a good sign, but Cee Cee refused to be discouraged.

“Have time for that talk?”

Max didn’t pause in his restless travels. If anything, the tempo increased. Again, the flash of a glance without true focus. “Now’s not a good time, Charlotte.”

“It’s as good a time as any, Max.”

“You’d be mistaken in that. I have things on my mind that are more important than anything you might want to chat about.”

His curt words began a responsive prickling of her mood. Cee Cee struggled to bite back her first comment. It would only make the atmosphere as charged as the clouds gathering over the Gulf. She took a determined breath and began again.

“You need to hear what I have to tell you. It can’t wait.”

He paused and looked at her fully. A flicker of concern was overcome by the impassive blankness that so efficiently covered his emotions.

“Unfortunately, it will have to. I need to take care of some pressing business.”

Tact, be damned. Cee Cee drew a breath between clenched teeth and readied to let fly, but a knock at their door interrupted her. Before she could tell him to ignore whoever it was, Max was across the living room. Jacques’s loud greeting soothed her temper. He wouldn’t take offense if she told him straight out to cut his visit short. And then she heard Susanna, and curiosity held her silent.

“Sorry we’re late. We just dropped Pearl off downstairs,” the doctor was saying as she offered Cee Cee a smile.

An uneasy alliance between Max and Simon Cummings had built the Trinity Towers, its base housing thriving businesses, the two flanking towers offering plush condos and the central spear, topped by Max’s penthouse, providing safe, affordable haven for his kind. Susanna had worked with Max to establish a school in one of the office spaces for Shifter children in residence. Almost forty students ages four to twelve were already enrolled. Strength Through Knowledge was its motto.

“I’ve never seen a child come up with so many creative ways to try to escape her classes,” Susanna concluded.

“Probably 'cause she’s smarter than the teachers,” Jacques boasted, pride expanding his already enormous chest within the snug confines of his favorite white Henley pullover. “Takes after her mama, thank goodness.”

He went for coffee and immediately targeted the pastries on the black marble bar with the eagerness of a man who didn’t have a good cook at home. “Anna said you wanted to see us about something, Savoie. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing you’re going to like,” was Max’s grim warning. “I’m tired of waiting for them to make a move on us. We’re going to bring the game to them.”

Jacques blinked and shared a quick, questioning look with Cee Cee. “Them?”

“They’ve invaded our territory. They’ve taken our people, killed our friends while we cower and count ourselves lucky that they didn’t do worse. Enough. I don’t like bullies, and I like being threatened even less.”

Jacques’s brow crinkled. “Are you talking about the Terriots? I thought Silas was dealing with their new head honcho. And Giles has brokered a truce with the Guedrys. That leaves . . .” He let that train of thought derail as he shook his head. “Max, you’re not thinking what I think you are.”

“They have something I want, and I’m going after it. And while I’m there I’m going to put a hurt on them that will have them thinking twice before they mess with us again.”

It wasn’t the shock of his words that shivered to Cee Cee’s toes, it was Max’s expression. The hard ferocity of his jaw, the knifing intensity of his stare. The cold delivery of his claim. She could have been looking at Jimmy Legere.

Beneath Legere’s silky civility had lain the heart of a monster without conscience, without fear. It had roared to life on rare occasions, and one of them was when he’d warned her away from Max. She’d seen straight to the foul hubris of his soul in that single glance and knew there was no evil he wasn’t capable of, from the kidnapping of two teenage girls to the murder of a police detective eating his Sunday dinner with his daughter. No sacrifice of money or manpower was too great when he wanted something. His sudden viciousness had been legendary and, for a time, she’d been afraid that legend lived on in his prodigy.

And now that fear was back as she looked into the eyes of the man she loved and saw Legere’s reflection.

Jacques shared her reservations, taken aback by the abrupt change in his friend. “What you’re suggesting would be madness, Max. We need to talk about his. Let me call Silas and Nica and see what they think.”

“I don’t care what they think. They’ve been too timid to act and look where it’s gotten us? We’re weak, trembling little rabbits just waiting for them to swoop down from the North and snatch us up one by one. Are you content to just hide your head if they decide to come for your mate and daughter again?”

Jacques’ features went still. His voice dropped deep with objection. “You wouldn’t say that to me if you remembered what we went through together. I’ve lost as much, if not more than you have. I would never hide from a fight, but I won’t start one when it’s not necessary. We’re safer here than we’ve ever been. Why provoke them and risk all-out war before we can get the clans together to support us?”

“How can you think we’re safe when our people follow a leader who doesn’t know where he’s been let alone where he’s going? How can I keep them strong if I’m the weakest link?”

Jacques sighed heavily, having no answer for his impassioned argument. “So,” he began quietly, “you want us to go blindly to Chicago to chase after this shadowy aunt of yours that you think you remember while you were pumped full of God knows what? This female none of our searches can locate?”

“Yes.”

“Max, do you know what a dangerous fool’s errand that is?”

“Not if we have help on the inside.” And he turned to Susanna. “Tell him.”

Susanna met Jacque’s stunned gaze calmly and explained, “We’ll go to Damien.”

“Frost?” Jacques roared. “Are you insane? The madman who kidnapped you, terrorized you and forced you to work against your will? Who planned to have our daughter dissected in the name of higher science because he thought she was a genetic freak?
That
Damien?”

She nodded. “Who’d harbor a greater grudge toward those peers who turned against him. He’d hate them even more than us because he’d think we were too inferior to be held responsible for what we did. They stripped him of his social rank, of his pride, of his livelihood. He’d relish the chance to make them fall if only to open the way to his future rise.”

“And you’d trust him with our lives?”

She laughed harshly. “Not for a second.” Her hand touched Jacques’s beefy forearm. “Max is right. They won’t ignore us for long. They fear the knowledge I took with me, and if they knew what I’ve discovered on my own none of us would be safe. I need time to finish my work. An unexpected attack in the heart of their research community would scatter their efforts, could set them back decades.

“You don’t understand them, Jacques,” the doctor continued. “They’re the weak ones. They depend on their technology and the fear they’ve bred. Take those things away and they’re helpless and easily crushed by the very beasts they’ve created. We could hurt them, Jacques. Badly. Perhaps irreparably.”

“And Max and I are going to do all of this on our own?”

“No,” Max submitted. “We’re going to need help. Who else do you know who’s been aching for a chance to settle a score?”

Cee Cee saw the answer hit Jacques and hit hard. He shook his massive head.

“No. He won’t work with us. He’d rather they kill us both.”

“Not if it means a chance to avenge his brother’s death.” Max took a breath. Some of the frightening intensity ebbed from his gaze as he reasoned with a quiet forcefulness. “Why do you think he formed that arrogant mob he calls his Patrol? To do good? To protect our families? They’re a private army, Jacques. And he’s been dying to use them against his enemies. Let’s let them loose where they can do some serious damage. That should give us time to find what we’re looking for.”

“Where are we going to look, Max? We can’t just go up there without a plan.”

“We’ll have one. I’m working on that now.”

His determination atop a foundation of sturdy fact had the big bar owner wavering. Jacques looked to his mate. “What do you think, Anna? Is this sheer craziness or a risk worth taking?”

Her features softened. “I wouldn’t even discuss it if I thought it would fail. I have too much to lose.”

Jacques’s attention turned to Cee Cee who’d remained outside the discussion. “And what do you think, Charlotte?”

She studied him, then Max where he stood haloed by morning light. He looked so darkly beautiful she had to squint her eyes and hold tight to her heart. Her cop senses were tingling. Something wasn’t right. She hesitated, not sure if the feeling came from her professional gut or from the nurturing hormones fluttering anxiously at the thought of her child’s father rushing toward danger.

“I’m not convinced of the wisdom of this plan.”

Max’s smile quirked at her predictable caution. “What would convince you, Detective?”

“An outcome that wouldn’t end with all of you dead.”

“You have little faith.” Said part tease, part challenge.

“Faith isn’t the problem, experience is. I don’t like it. You don’t have enough information for a successful assault.”

“Then we’ll get it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, whether in aggravation or distress, she didn’t know, then he confronted her boldly. “Don’t you trust my judgment,
cher?”

And then a wary reminder whispered to her, a warning in Max Savoie’s own words as he lay strapped to the Chosen’s table.

Don’t trust me.

She managed a smile. “Trust isn’t the issue. I’ll give you 48 hours to convince me that you’ll come back alive. Otherwise, it’s a no go. Agreed?”

“Always the shrewd bargainer,” he mused. “One of the things I love so much about you,
sha
.”

Love.

He said it casually. He couldn’t have known it would hit her in the chest like a slug to a bullet proof vest, bruising but not destroying the vulnerable parts it protected. If she stopped to puzzle out the source of that admission, she’d do more damage than the initial impact. So she let it go, that longed for statement of devotion, leaving it unchallenged and for the moment, unquestioned.

Part of him still loved her, still retained the memory of that feeling. And that’s all she needed to hold to.

“We should talk to Giles,” Max added, his attention back on his friend. Then, he regarded Cee Cee once more. “You and Susanna probably have things to discuss that don’t involve us.”

Things like a secret baby and a chance to reveal its existence blown out of the water?

“I can’t right now.” Cee Cee grabbed up her coat. “I’ve got to stop into the station to take care of a few things.” She smiled tightly at the doctor. “We’ll touch base later.”

And she dashed out the door, not catching the frustrated look Max and Susanna exchanged.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

The hammering music, swirling lights and musky scent of anticipation and sex hadn’t changed since the last time Cee Cee was in the Sweat Shop, Carmen Blutifino’s strip club and hub for his many illegal doings. She’d worked undercover on the stage during a case involving murdered working girls. Alain Babineau, in the role of her pimp, had used Max’s interest in her stripper persona Chili Pepper to gain a position on Manny Blu’s staff. On this early afternoon, he was at the bar, his hair darkened and greasy, lean figure clad in a shiny shirt and smarmy smile as they made eye contact.