THE RIPENING (Dark Side of the Moon Book 1) (5 page)

              As she sat, naked in her bed, she could only hope that her nude body could somehow magically entice him back to her.

              In the wee small hours of the morning, she was still waiting. By that time, she'd convinced herself that it was nothing. He'd probably lost his phone and gotten caught up in some family venture. She'd seen him called back to his parents' home as early as three or four in the morning. They were a strange breed.

              She decided she'd go to sleep. After a few hours rest, Luther would come home and wake her with a more than ample explanation for where he'd been and she could get back to losing herself in him. Everything would be fine.

              It had to be.

              Yuna was woken the next morning by the intense drumming of rain on the newly tiled roof. The first thing that she noticed was that Luther had not returned.

              Rising, she threw on her nightgown and raced down the hall to his room, yanking the door open.

              The drawers all stood out on their hinges, emptied. His bed was bare of sheets, and the numerous memorabilia that had decorated the walls since their teenage years had been ripped from the walls.

              For a moment, the young woman just stared.

              His things were gone.

              The shock was enough to momentarily drive the air from her lungs and make her clutch the door for dear life, lest her legs give way beneath her. Though the room was bare, it looked as if it had been stripped very methodically, by someone who had known exactly what they were doing. Not a single thing had been left, save the furniture and a few books on the bedside table. She'd been in the room hundreds of times, yet Yuna barely recognized it. The only reminder that anyone had ever inhabited it was the faint smell of soap and aftershave.

              He'd left her.

              Not only that, he'd taken down any barriers that might have remained between them; he'd taken her body and her mind and then, when she'd been prepared to give him everything, he'd left her.

              For a moment, Yuna felt sick.

              She sank to her knees, taking deep breaths to ground herself.

              No. No, no, no. This was Luther. This wasn't some idiotic, self-centered man who'd decided that he wanted to see if her carpet matched her drapes or some drunk biker that had groped her into bed. This was Luther. Her Luther.

              If he'd left her, he must have had a good reason.

              Only days ago he'd told her that he could never hurt her- that she was impossibly important to him... he wouldn't lie. Not like that. It wasn't in him.

              Taking a deep breath, Yuna stood, turning and leaving the woefully empty room to head to the kitchen and retrieve her cell phone. Almost without hesitation, she dialed a number that she had dialed perhaps two or three times in her entire life- the line of the Douglas estate in the mountains above town.

              She knew who his family was, and she knew how they felt about her, but she had to know.

              Where was he?

              The phone rang. Three times. Ten times. Twenty. No answer.

              For as long as she could remember, there’d never been an answering machine. Not at that house.

              On the thirtieth ring, Yuna pressed the end button. Her blood was humming with apprehension.

              For perhaps a minute, she stared at the unmoving phone on the counter before returning to her room. Mindlessly, she threw on what she hoped was a clean pair of jeans and a thick cable sweater. She hardly bothered to tie back her disheveled hair before she was out the door and down the steps two at a time. Within moments, she was in her little re-purposed Volkswagen, headed towards town.

              “He's not in.”

              At the blonde receptionist's flat reply, Yuna blinked. “Excuse me?”

              “I said, 'He's. Not. In.'” The older woman repeated the words slowly, as if she suspected Yuna might be a little soft in the head. “Would you like to leave a message?”

              “I heard what you said.” The words escaped the young woman slightly harsher than she'd intended and the receptionist's lips pursed in displeasure.  Yuna steadied herself before trying again. “I'm just a bit confused. Isn't he here every day from eight to four?”

              “Yes. Every day. Except today.” The blonde took a moment to answer the phone that beeped on the desk before her. “Yes, Dr. Douglas's office. No, he's not in at the moment, would you like to leave a message?”

              Luther's father may not have been the most friendly man, but his small psychology practice was well known. Indeed, several of his patients came from out of town for their weekly appointments, a few from as far away as Seattle. Though the tiny office was tucked well away from the more busy thoroughfares of the town, almost everyone knew of it. Dr. Douglas was in said office, without fail, every Monday through Friday, eight to four. People set their watches by his comings and goings, and as his practice seemed indeed to be one of the only ways in which people got to see the reclusive man, his working hours were a gossipy town's common knowledge.

              But today, he was out.

              “Now, as I said before,” hanging up the phone, the blonde raised her head again to address Yuna, “if you'd like to leave a message, I can pass it along to him when he gets back.”

              “When is that supposed to be?” The young woman interjected, carefully controlling her tone as to avoid offending her only source of information.

              “He didn't say. Just mentioned that he needed some time away for family matters. Asked if I might still come in regularly to field his calls and work for the doctor coming to fill in for him.”

              Yuna took a breath. She had to think. Luther had disappeared and so had his father. There was only a week before another family trip was due. Hopefully that meant that they couldn't have gone far.

              Unable to help it, Yuna let out a nervous little titter at the idea that something so infantile as a family trip could really dictate where two grown men could be at any given time, but it was the only piece of information she had to go on. The Douglases had never missed a trip, according to Luther. It just wasn't done. “I think I'll just wait for him to come back, thanks.”

              Leaving the somewhat confused receptionist in her wake, Yuna left the office, barely noticing the chilly drops of rain that covered her sweater as she returned to her car. Once inside, she merely sat cushioned against the leather seat, wracking her brain for possible ideas.

              It was probably safe to assume that wherever the doctor was, Luther was too. She couldn't quite believe that Luther's parents would force him to go somewhere that he wouldn't go willingly, so that ruled out the idea that her closest friend had been taken somewhere against his wishes. No, she was sure that this had something to do with the Douglas family and whatever secrets they had. Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, Yuna thought furiously.

              In town, she herself was widely considered the individual who might know the most about the Douglases. She had, in fact, been close with their son for so long that many people just assumed that she was close with his family too. Anyone who had spent time with them, however, would realize immediately that the Douglases weren't a family to get close to anyone. They barely came into town except to convene at the Doctor's practice or to visit the supermarket and order groceries.

              Groceries.

              That was it.

              Starting up her car, Yuna backed out of the office parking lot, quickly making her way to the main road to head back toward the market. She might not know where Luther and his family took their secret trips, but she thought that just maybe someone might have happened on the address without even realizing what precious information they had access to.

Part Two

              “Luther.”

              She was going to despise him for the rest of her life. That, he couldn't lie to himself about.

              “Luther.”

              However chivalrous he may think he was, whatever reasons he might have had for doing what he'd done, he'd hurt her. Something he'd promised never to do.

              “Luther.”

              The dark-haired man's head jerked up at the deep summons from beside him. Reluctantly, he turned to meet a gaze almost identical to his own, save for the thin scar that bisected the right eye. Soundlessly, he glared his younger brother down, daring him to say what he knew was coming.

              Liam was never one to be intimidated. The reprimand he spoke was made only harsher by an accent purer than his brother, less touched by American influence. “Forget about her. You can't have that life, Luther. None of us can.”

              “A wiser man wouldn't prod so fresh a wound, Liam,” he ground out from between clenched teeth. Of course, his younger sibling had always doubtlessly followed the traditions of their family. Even when he'd been told that his part in continuing the family line had significantly lessened, it hadn't seemed to deter his dogged loyalty. It was an attribute that Luther both admired and disliked in his brother. Sometimes it seemed as if Liam lacked a mind of his own.

              “I'm only trying to help you, brother. Mother and father told you long ago that getting involved with outsiders wouldn't end well. Now, look what you've done to yourself.”

              “And what, exactly, have I done to myself?” Luther demanded, his voice raising to fill the passenger compartment of the luxury car in which they were riding.

              “This girl would have made you soft,” Liam replied quietly, with utter conviction. “It's better this way, and you know it. A clean break, so that she won't have to suffer when she finds out the truth about you. About us.”

              “I don't need lecturing.” Luther's hand splayed out against the rain-slick window as the car bumped over unsteady roads. “Least of all from you. I'm not some simpering pup.”

              “Then stop acting like one.”

              It took every ounce of strength that Luther possessed not to leap on the smaller man. Of course Liam would know nothing of what he felt. If Liam so much as stepped a single toe beyond the rigid guidelines put into place by their clan, he'd be utterly lost. Liam had mated when he'd been told to mate, and he'd accepted it when he'd been forbidden from having children because they wouldn't be of the clan. Ultimately, the things that Luther would do would require far greater sacrifices, but he didn't need his brother to tell him to behave as if he had no idea what his duties were. Liam overstepped his boundaries.

              “Down, Luther.” The soft voice of Viola, his brother's mate, came from her husband's side. At her admonishment, he bit back the snarl rising in his throat. It wouldn't do for them to brawl in front of her. Unlike Liam, Viola understood a bit more what their kind must do to sustain themselves. He'd much rather speak to her than to his brother, even at the best of times. However, as the length of this car ride dictated that he be stuck across from Liam for three hours, he had to be on his very best behavior.

              Even if he felt like tearing his brother apart.

              “Save it for the Ripening, brother. You'll be Alpha then. Perhaps if you ask politely, Father will allow a match.”

              Luther wasn't baited into a reply. The sentence was too loaded for him to respond with anything other than silence. At the very least, he'd never insinuate that he'd indulge in something as foolhardy as a serious match with his own brother. They might be at odds, but the bonds of blood were still thicker than any other. “Liam, perhaps it's best if you give Luther some time to think.” Viola's startlingly black eyes glowed in the low interior light of the car as she spoke. When her hand curled into Liam's thigh, his expression softened and he sat back in his seat, giving up, for the moment, on getting a rise out of his older brother.

              “Let him do as he will. It doesn't matter anyway.”

              Luther glared at him darkly, before closing his eyes and settling in his own seat, resigned to an uneasy silence.

              He'd been called to the clan gathering place a week before the ripening. Though his mind was still full of Yuna, silence in the car gave him a moment to contemplate the gravity of his current situation. His parents had already gone ahead to prepare for the ritual that was necessary for the conferring of power.

              Luther hadn't thought it would happen so soon. He'd long been under the impression that his father was waiting for what he called his 'childish obsession with the mundane world' to fade so that he could fully concentrate on his duties. Magnus was, if nothing else, obsessed with duty and necessity. For a long time, Luther had doubted whether his father would ever be ready to confer power upon him. This doubt had comforted him. As long as he'd maintained the illusion that he might be passed over, he'd been able to enjoy the times he'd spent with Yuna.

              Yet now, here it was.

              Exhaling hotly, Luther tried not to remember how fulfilled he'd been when he sneaked out of the stuffy Douglas estate to meet Yuna in the woods at dusk, or how she'd smiled at him when he'd claimed a room in the country house as his own after her parents had died, glad for the refuge. His entire life he'd entertained the thought of escape.

              Now, that all that had to stop.

              The car ride seemed all too short.             

              When they arrived, it was to miles of uninhabited forest and a crumbling mansion that had been eaten away by time. Ivy grew through the windows, spiraling down what had once been pristine trellises to cover the front lawn with a tangle of growth. Rain pattered on and through a roof that was open in several places, and shutters slapped desolately in the steady wind. When Luther gazed into the dark crevasses of windows, he could sense the others already gathered there and a part of him called out to them. Needed them. The smell of the place was earthy and rich, without the slightest undertone of rot, and the spice of something ancient and unseen lingered in the air.