Beneath a Rising Moon Read online

  night. Beyond the pounding music and happy laughter

  coming from the Blue Moon, there was little noise. If the

  truck was moving anywhere near, she couldn’t hear it.

  She shook off the snow that had settled on her coat

  and continued on. She’d head down the road a mile or so,

  but if the tracks went on after that, she was going home.

  The night was too cold, and her legs were too tired to go

  any farther. Besides, Heather Creek Road eventually made

  it all the way down to Dillon, and there was no way in

  hell she was traveling that distance. Not on foot, anyway.

  The glow of lights from Main Street faded, and the

  darkness and the snow seemed to close in. Unease

  slithered through her. She didn’t know this area all that

  well, but knew there were very few people living out this

  way. A few ski lodges, a house or two, but that was it. If

  she got into trouble, she’d find no help close by.

  The thought made her pause. Through the silence,

  she heard the sound of an engine—one that seemed to be

  stationary rather than moving. Unease prickled down her

  spine, raising the hairs along her backbone. The urge to

  run away was so great she half-turned. Only the knowledge

  that more people might die if she didn’t keep going made

  her head forward again.

  Lights glimmered ahead. Red taillights, gleaming in

  the night like a mad wolf’s eyes.

  She shivered and padded forward more cautiously. It

  was a blue truck ahead. Iyona’s truck. Halted in the middle

  of the road, lights on, engine running. Neva stopped and

  sniffed the air. She could smell oil and gas fumes from

  the exhaust, but couldn’t pick up Betise’s sharp scent, or

  Iyona’s slightly off aroma. There was no sound other than

  the idling engine.

  And no way in hell she was going closer. It looked like

  a trap, and right now, the safest thing she could do was

  hightail it out of there. She could always come back later—

  in the safety of the car and with Duncan by her side.

  She retreated. But she’d barely gone three steps when

  the night blurred, and she suddenly found herself under

  the snarling weight of a silver wolf.

  Fourteen

  Duncan’s footsteps echoed as he walked down the

  hospital corridor toward Savannah’s room. The young

  officer stationed at her door watched him warily, his hair

  gleaming carrot red under the harsh lights, and his hand

  drifting toward the gun at his side.

  Obviously a ranger who was new to Ripple Creek,

  otherwise the youngster would have known who he was—

  if not by sight then by reputation. Duncan held up his

  hands and stopped. “Duncan Sinclair. I wish to talk to

  Savannah, if possible.”

  The ranger leaned around the doorway to speak to

  her. Duncan shook his head. The fool was obviously very

  new, because turning your back like that was not a good

  idea. Savannah must have said something along those

  lines, because when the young ranger looked back, his

  face was almost as red as his hair. “You can go in.”

  He held back his smile. “Thanks.”

  The carrot-topped ranger nodded, his hand still near

  the gun and a watchful look in his blue eyes. Duncan

  walked into the room. Savannah was sitting up in bed,

  her face still swathed in bandages, but overall looking a

  whole lot healthier than she had yesterday.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Sinclair?” Her voice held

  none of the warmth so evident in Neva’s.

  He dragged a chair up to her bed and sat down. “I

  believe we might be able to help each other.”

  A smile touched her lips. “Oh yeah? You come to

  confess?”

  “Are you interested in hearing what I have to say, or

  are we going to dwell on a past I can do nothing about?”

  She studied him for a moment, and he wished he could

  see her eyes. He had a feeling that, like Neva’s, they would

  be extremely expressive.

  “You hurt my sister,” she said in that same flat, no-

  nonsense tone, “and I’ll bust your balls from here to

  kingdom come.”

  He smiled faintly. “Fair enough.”

  She nodded. “Then talk.”

  He did. She said nothing, listening intently, nodding

  every now and again. When he’d finished, she said, “There’s

  one problem with the idea that Iyona or Betise or both

  might be involved with these murders—”

  “The black hairs found at the murder scene?”

  “How did you know about them? Neva?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then she trusts you.”

  With knowledge, but certainly not anything else. Yet.

  “She came after me at the mansion because even you think

  I’m not the murderer.”

  “That doesn’t mean the rest of your pack isn’t. Betise

  or Iyona might be working with one of them.”

  He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the

  plastic bag he’d fished out of the river earlier tonight. “Try

  matching this with those hairs you found.” He placed it

  into her hands.

  She felt through the plastic. “A wig?”

  “A black wig. We were following Betise earlier and saw

  her throw it into Hunter River. I fished it out.”

  “We? You and Neva?”

  “Yep. So you’ve got a believable witness as well as me.”

  The smile that touched her lips held true warmth and

  in many ways reminded him of Neva, which wasn’t all

  that strange, considering they were twins.

  “A wig doesn’t make her the murderer. It’s a silver

  wolf attacking these women, not a golden.”

  “But both Betise and Iyona have a better motive than

  anyone else. My pack aren’t saints, but none of us are

  behind these murders. I’ll guarantee it.”

  “Well, a guarantee like that is certainly going to go a

  long way in a court of law.” But she said it with a smile,

  and he took no offense.

  “Has anyone seen Betise’s coat color?” he asked. “If

  she is the child of one of the Bitterroot Sinclairs, she might

  very well be silver.”

  “Possibly.” Savannah’s voice was noncommittal. “I’ll

  have this checked out along with the samples we took

  tonight. Hopefully, we’ll get an answer.”

  “We have something else you might be interested in,

  too. Martin took skin and blood samples from under

  Betise’s nails the night she was attacked. They’re currently

  being analyzed at the forensics lab.”

  “Any samples not taken by us under controlled

  conditions won’t be accepted as evidence in court.”

  “Perhaps. But it may provide a link to the women who

  were killed. Once you have that link, you can concentrate

  on collecting evidence that is rock-solid.”

  “Maybe.” Her voice was noncommittal.

  He hesitated, then asked, “Can you remember anything

  of your own attack?”

  “No. It’s all still a blur.”

  “Have you asked Neva?”

  She wa
s silent for a long moment, then swore softly.

  “I didn’t even think of it.”

  At least he wasn’t the only one. He rose and put the

  chair back. “She was there with you in spirit.”

  “She’s the reason I’m alive,” Savannah said softly. “The

  only reason. The wolf was big—very big. And that’s all I

  remember.”

  “But it may not be all Neva remembers.”

  “No.” Savannah paused. “You intending to ask her

  yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t try taking the law into your own hands, Sinclair.

  Not in my town. And if you find anything, you bring it to

  me to deal with.”

  “Right.” After he’d found that bastard or bitch behind

  this and given him—or her—a beating or two.

  “I mean it. Or the threat I made earlier will apply.”

  He didn’t reply. Didn’t get the chance to. Neva’s fear

  slammed into his mind and, hot on its heels, her pain.

  The force of both, one on top of the other, hurled him

  back against the wall and left him gasping.

  “Neva!” Savannah’s cry sang through the air, through

  his mind, and was filled with fear for her sister.

  He shook his head, trying to free himself from the haze

  of Neva’s pain and terror to reach for her mentally. Nothing.

  She was too consumed by whatever was happening to her

  to hear him.

  He pushed away from the wall and staggered to the

  door. He had to find her—fast. The young officer had

  rushed in at Savannah’s cry and was near her bed. There

  were quick footsteps coming toward the room, and then

  nurses came through the doorway. He pushed past them

  and thundered down the hall.

  You heard? Savannah’s surprised thought cut through

  his shields and arrowed into his mind.

  Yes.

  Oh Moons...does she know?

  No. Nor will she, until she is ready to acknowledge it

  for herself.

  Can you find her? I can’t get any sense from her—I

  have no idea where she is.

  I can find her. He didn’t need to feel her thoughts for

  that. All he had to do was follow his heart.

  Do you need help?

  No. Because if anyone had hurt her, he’d kill them.

  And he didn’t need rangers as witnesses.

  Run swiftly.

  He didn’t answer. Just ran.

  ***

  It was Savannah’s attack all over again and, for one

  second, Neva froze. All she could smell was the other wolf’s

  putrid breath, all she could hear was the rumble of its

  growl. All she could feel was the drip of saliva against her

  face as the gleaming white teeth slashed through the air,

  headed toward her throat. She twisted desperately, and

  the teeth tore into her foreleg instead. Pain ripped through

  her, burning away the fear.

  Savannah had beaten this bitch—but only because

  she’d siphoned Neva’s abilities at the last moment. There

  would be no last moment here. As she’d told Duncan, she

  was far from defenseless.

  She reached for the fear singing through her veins

  and flung it back at the other wolf, smashing through her

  foe’s shields and forcing it deep into her mind. A mind

  that was crazy with the moon’s heat. Crazy with hate. For

  her.

  The mad, yellow eyes went wide, then the silver wolf

  cowered away, whimpering and shivering. Neva scrambled

  upright and ran. With every step blood flew through the

  air, glistening with black fire as it splattered across the

  pristine snow.

  Air stirred, arrowing towards her. Another wolf, coming

  from the right. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the

  blur of gold rising high as the wolf sprang. She slammed

  past this second wolf’s shields, filling her mind with the

  terror and hatred she was still feeling from the first wolf.

  The golden bitch dropped, trembling and whimpering with

  fright. Neva kept on running, though her lungs burned

  and the warmth of blood pulsing down her leg became a

  tide.

  Lights beckoned brightly through the darkness ahead.

  She ran onto Main Street but didn’t stop, too fearful that

  if she did, those wolves would catch her. She couldn’t

  hear them behind her, but that didn’t mean they weren’t.

  Warmth and music pulsed through the night, but she

  didn’t head for the Blue Moon, even though she would be

  safe enough there. There was only one place she wanted

  to be right now—and he was close. She could feel him. In

  her mind. With her heart.

  Neva? Savannah’s thought was as sharp as glass. Are

  you okay?

  Fine, she lied, not wanting to panic her sister any more

  than she already had. I’ll come and talk to you soon.

  She saw Duncan a second later—a sleek silver shadow

  exploding out of the snow-filled night. She shifted shape

  as he shifted shape, and all but fell into the warmth of his

  arms.

  Trembling, shivering, she wrapped her arms around

  him and held on tight. Breathed deep the spicy, foresty

  smell of him, letting the sense of warmth and security

  and strength he exuded wash over her. Calm her.

  The arms that held her so protectively were taut, and

  his heart was a rumble of rapid thunder in the ear she

  pressed hard against his chest. His anger was a cloud of

  red that burned her mind and stung the night, but behind

  it was fear. For her. The knowledge made her heart do a

  weird little dance.

  She didn’t know how long they stood there like that,

  holding each other in the middle of Main Street as the

  snow danced around them. She didn’t really care, because

  she’d never felt so safe in her life. When he eventually

  pulled away, he caught her chin, directing her gaze to his.

  “Was it Betise and Iyona?”

  She nodded. “I doubt that it could have been anyone

  else, if only—”

  “Tell me about it later,” he cut in. “Right now, you

  need to get to the emergency room.” He bent, swinging

  her up into his arms.

  “I don’t—”

  “No arguments.” His voice was almost savage. “That

  arm needs stitches.”

  She glanced down. The sleeve of her coat was ripped

  to shreds, and blood covered her arm and fingers. “It’s

  not as bad as it looks.”

  “Maybe. But who knows what you can catch from a

  bite from a bitch like Betise?”

  A smile played across her lips. “A rather nasty thing

  to say.” Though as nasty comments went, she was thinking

  far worse.

  “Right now, I’m feeling particularly nasty.” He glanced

  at her. Though his black eyes were as unreadable as ever,

  something in his expression made her tremble. “You’re

  mine, if only for the rest of this moon phase. No one attacks

  anything of mine and gets away with it.”

  His words seemed to echo through her, doing strange

  things to her pulse rate and her heart. Moons, it would be

  so easy to believe he ca
red. But that was something she

  dared not do, because it would be all too easy to fall.

  If she hadn’t fallen already.

  She closed her eyes. No. It was the moon and the power

  of the man himself. Nothing more. She couldn’t fall for a

  man like Duncan. He was everything she’d never wanted.

  He strode through the night, not saying anything, just

  holding her with a tenderness that suggested she was

  precious cargo. Tears prickled her closed eyelids. She

  wouldn’t think that. Couldn’t think that. It wasn’t safe.

  “Safe isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be,” he said

  softly. “Safe can be horribly lonely.”

  Which she’d discovered over the years, so why was

  she holding on to it so tightly? She didn’t know, and that

  scared her almost as much as exploring what she might

  feel for him. She let her gaze rake the face she knew would

  haunt her dreams forever. “How could a relationship

  between us ever work?” Especially given her father’s edict?

  “You don’t want to come back to Ripple Creek, I don’t

  really want to leave. I want a family. You want nothing

  more than a good time.”

  “All relationships must compromise to survive.”

  “But not all relationships are worth the effort. It’s just

  the moon that binds us, nothing more. I can’t help what I

  feel.”

  “You haven’t explored what you feel.” He paused as

  the doors to the hospital swished open. “Let’s discuss this

  when we’re alone.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss.” And there would be no

  later. Not for them.

  Because of who he was. Because of who she was, and

  the way she’d been brought up. She was willing enough

  to shake the shackles of her parents’ beliefs and rules,

  but she didn’t want them completely out of her life. She

  was a wolf, and family was everything. She couldn’t walk

  away from her parents—not forever—and if she wanted

  Duncan in her life that’s what she would have to do. Her

  father had made it clear he’d forgive the moon dance, but

  he would not forgive a continuing dalliance with someone

  like Duncan.

  If it came down to a choice, there really was none. To

  keep her family in her life, she had to stick to her original

  plan and walk away from him. No matter what she might

  feel.

  No matter how much it hurt.