Beneath a Rising Moon Page 30

away from them completely.

  She bit her lip, her gaze moving past the trees and

  spying a flicker of gold in the darkness. “Stop,” she said

  quickly and was out the door before Ronan even touched

  the brake.

  “Neva, wait,” Savannah cried.

  She stopped on the verge of the road. She wasn’t a

  fool. If Iyona and Betise could overpower someone like

  René, what hope would she have against them?

  The night was cold and still, the snow beyond the road

  powdery light, glittering brightly under the moon’s harsh

  light. The nearby trees cast deep shadows, and the smell

  of pine and balsam was rich in the air. She sniffed deeply.

  Behind those two scents was another. A warm, woody

  aroma that sent the blood pounding through her veins.

  Duncan was here somewhere. And so were Betise and

  Iyona, even though she couldn’t smell them.

  The other trucks pulled to a halt behind them, and

  men poured out. Savannah stopped beside her, sniffing

  the air lightly. “I can’t smell them.”

  “Duncan’s here. Betise will be, too.”

  Savannah looked past her, and Neva followed the

  direction of her gaze. Zeke Sinclair walked towards them,

  his stride long and powerful, his angelic face

  expressionless, and his dark eyes shuttered. For one

  moment, he looked so much like Duncan her heart ached.

  Behind him were two shadows who were just as potent,

  but who were hiding their anger less skillfully. Tye and

  Kane.

  Zeke stopped in front of Neva. The sense of his power,

  the sheer force of his masculinity swept over her, and yet

  didn’t stir her. She glanced at her sister and saw that

  Savannah was similarly unmoved. Which was a good thing,

  but odd, given the night and the moon.

  “Where?” His voice was sharp. Abrupt.

  Neva pointed to where she’d seen the brief flicker of

  light, and mentally passed the image and the information

  on to Savannah. “About half a mile in.” How she’d managed

  to see the light from such a distance she didn’t know. Nor

  did she care. Not if it freed Duncan.

  Zeke looked at Savannah. “How do you want to do

  this?”

  “Neva suspects Betise will try to perform the ritual of

  promising. If that’s the case, they’ll more than likely be in

  a clearing. We need to get René free first, then we’ll

  surround the clearing and get Duncan out.” She hesitated,

  her green eyes narrowing. “No accidents, Zeke. I want these

  two women alive.”

  Zeke raised his hands. “We have no weapons.”

  “A wolf doesn’t need a weapon to kill.”

  There was nothing warm in Zeke’s sudden smile. “I

  will protect my sons, Ranger, no matter what your rules

  say.”

  “You can protect all you want. Just don’t kill.”

  Zeke’s gaze flickered to Neva, studying her so intently

  she shifted uncomfortably. After a moment, his smile

  became warmer. “Perhaps I won’t need to. There are other

  emotions, and other players, here tonight.”

  Heat touched Neva’s cheeks. She had a horrible feeling

  this man saw far more than normal men, and in her case,

  that he saw the feelings she was trying hard to ignore.

  She pulled her gaze from his and glanced at her sister.

  “You want me to lead?”

  “You take Ronan and the Sinclairs and head to the

  right. The rest of us will head left.”

  As she nodded she glanced at the sky. The moon was

  bright, and magic was beginning to stir the night. If they

  didn’t hurry, they’d be too late.

  She shifted shape and lunged forward through the

  soft snow.

  ***

  It was the cold that woke Duncan. It surrounded him,

  filled him. He frowned but didn’t move, allowing awareness

  to surface fully as he listened to the night. Someone

  breathed close by, someone whose scent was all too

  familiar, and relief surged. René.

  He cracked open an eye. They were in a small cave.

  Warm shadows danced across the walls, flickering shapes

  that indicated a fire was close. Naked, his brother leaned

  against the opposite wall, his eyes closed, though he wasn’t

  asleep. The tension riding René’s bruised and cut

  shoulders told Duncan that much. René’s hands and feet

  were tied with chains that gleamed silver in the night,

  and the bandages over the gunshot wound were bloody,

  an indication that the wound had opened again.

  Anger surged through Duncan, but he thrust it away.

  Right now, anger wasn’t going to help either of them. He

  glanced down at himself. He was also naked, though he

  couldn’t have been undressed for long, because he could

  still feel his fingers and toes. Hypothermia was a ways off

  yet. But he had a fair idea why they were both naked, and

  what Betise intended to do. Tonight was the night of

  promises, and that mad bitch was undoubtedly going to

  try to raise the magic.

  Worse though was the fact he was also tied with chains,

  and if the warmth against his skin was anything to go by,

  those chains didn’t just look silver, they were silver. Which

  meant neither of them could shift shape until the chains

  were off, as silver was the one metal immune to magic of

  all kinds. He moved his arms, trying to find some give in

  the looped chains and work them loose.

  “I wish you luck,” René said quietly. “Because I

  certainly haven’t had any.”

  Then the two women had been less careful about tying

  him, because the chains weren’t as tight as they had been.

  “Are you all right?” Though Duncan asked the question

  softly, his words seemed to echo in the cave, and outside,

  someone stirred.

  “Yes. Though I have to say the moon dance is not much

  fun when you’re just a body and not a willing participant.”

  “It could be worse, Brother.” And probably would get

  worse, unless he could find a way out for both of them.

  He very much doubted that René had been taken just as

  a hostage. There were two women and two of them, and

  this was all about revenge. Revenge for past wrongs.

  Revenge for promises never made.

  And what better revenge was there than to bind

  yourself to a man who hated you?

  A shadow loomed across the wall, shifting from wolf

  to human shape. He craned his neck to the left and

  watched Betise enter. Like them, she was naked. Oddly

  enough, her body was covered with a white powder, and

  he couldn’t smell her. He couldn’t smell Iyona, either,

  though she was undoubtedly just as close.

  Betise’s gaze met his, green eyes glowing like ice in

  the darkness. “The time has come to keep your promises,

  Duncan.”

  “Tell me first why you killed those women.” Not that

  it really mattered now. He just needed to buy more time.

  Time to loosen the chains some more. Time for his father

  and brothers to track them down.

  She
shrugged. “Kill the competition, give the dance a

  bad name, and my chances of catching a Sinclair mate

  rise, don’t they?”

  Only a crazy woman would believe that. “So why make

  it look like they were raped?”

  “To confuse the rangers. Worked like a charm, too,

  didn’t it? They were so convinced it was one of you Sinclairs

  they didn’t even bother looking for other possible culprits.”

  “So why attack yourself?” It was a guess, but a

  reasonably safe one.

  “Neva told me her sister was waking. I knew if the

  ranger remembered the attack, she’d know it was a female

  who attacked her, not a male.” She shrugged again. “I

  was hoping it would throw everyone off, but it didn’t. You

  suspected me, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” Though not of the killings. Not at first.

  She nodded. “I smelled you in my hair salon, you

  know.”

  “Is that why you got rid of the wig?” Surprise flitted

  across her face, and he smiled coldly. “I fished it out of

  the river, Betise. Savannah has it.”

  “You lie.”

  “It doesn’t matter if he’s lying.” Iyona stepped out of

  the shadows, a rifle held steadily in her hands. A rifle that

  was aimed straight at René. “The time of promising has

  come.”

  “I made no promises to Betise. I never will.”

  “You will if you want your brother to live to his time of

  promising.”

  His gaze flicked to hers. Where Betise’s gaze was crazy,

  Iyona’s was hard. Intent.

  “This will gain you nothing.”

  “You’re a Sinclair, and the Sinclairs owe me.”

  “My pack had nothing to do with what happened to

  you.”

  “You’re all Sinclairs. I don’t care which pack pays me

  what I am owed.”

  “And what the hell are you owed, Iyona?”

  “A name. A child. A comfortable lifestyle.”

  The woman might not look mad, but she was every bit

  as insane as her daughter. “Neither René nor I can give

  you a child. That’s taken care of every moon dance.”

  Betise snorted. “You taking bets on that fact?”

  He stared at her, a sick sensation in his gut. “What

  are you saying?”

  Betise’s smile was contemptuous. “That I tampered

  with one box of injections. Twenty, in all, I think. The

  good doctor keeps meticulous records, and I knew René

  was being done early. But if I’d known you were coming

  back, I would have tampered with yours, as well.”

  Relief slithered through him. At least he didn’t have

  to worry about Neva being pregnant. They might have

  performed the moon ceremony and, for all intents and

  purposes, be married, but right now, they did not need a

  child. Not when they were still very much strangers, and

  she was still wary of both him and her feelings.

  “The surgery is locked. How could you possibly get

  in?”

  Betise arched an eyebrow. “Through the tunnels, of

  course.” She glanced at René, a cold smile on her lips.

  “You really should work on your shield, you know. Your

  mind is such an easy read when you’re dancing.”

  René didn’t even bother opening his eyes as he said,

  “I will never give you a child.”

  “My dear boy, you probably already have,” Iyona

  commented dryly. “And not only Betise, but me and your

  other half dozen partners as well.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it.” René’s voice was cold. Harsh.

  “Martin is not the fool you think him to be. He saw the

  box had been tampered with and got rid of them.”

  Betise stared at him. “You’re lying.”

  René opened his eyes and looked at her. His dark gaze

  was as hard as the rocks behind him. “Am I?”

  Betise studied them both for a second, her eyes

  gleaming moon bright in the night. “Get up, both of you.”

  If they were ever going to escape, it had to be now,

  when the two women were overly confident and before the

  ceremony was performed. While he could not get caught

  by the promising ritual, René could. And he knew René

  would say the words and link himself forever with a bitch

  like Iyona, if it meant saving Duncan’s life. He glanced at

  his brother’s set face, eyebrow raised in question, and

  saw the barest nod of agreement. He pushed back against

  the wall and struggled to his feet. “The promising ritual

  won’t work, Betise.”

  “If you don’t say the right words, René is a dead man.”

  “Better a dead man than being bound to dead-smelling

  flesh,” René commented as he struggled upright.

  “Dead flesh that you will be bound to for eternity,”

  Iyona snarled.

  “Over my lifeless body.”

  “Or your brother’s.” The sound of the safety clicking

  off seemed to echo ominously in the cavern. “We’re not

  overly fussy about which one we kill. All we want is a

  child, so we can claim our share of the Sinclair fortune.”

  Duncan couldn’t help the harsh laugh that escaped

  his lips. “Do you really think our father will acknowledge

  any child you two bear?”

  “Blood is blood, and everyone knows Zeke is an old-

  fashioned wolf. He’ll support the get of his sons.” She

  stepped to one side. “Now move, both of you.”

  Duncan shuffled forward until he’d moved up

  alongside his brother. They shared a brief glance, and as

  one, walked clumsily forward. The chains around their

  legs clinked softly, the bell like sound covering the noise

  Duncan made as he slid the loosened chain from his arms

  and caught them in his hand.

  In that same moment, awareness surged through his

  mind. Neva was close. He couldn’t smell her, but he could

  feel her—in his heart, with his soul.

  Neva?

  Here. So is Savannah, as well as your father and

  brothers.

  How far away?

  Not far. Why?

  Hurry. He didn’t tell her why. Didn’t have the time,

  because they were too close to the two women. If they

  shuffled forward any farther, Betise would see his hands

  were no longer tied. Tension emanated from René, telling

  Duncan his brother was ready to move.

  “Dive low,” he said and swung the chain, lashing it

  around Iyona’s face and neck as René hit her low and

  hard, sending her sprawling backwards. Her scream was

  a high-pitched sound of pain and fury that got lost in the

  sound of a gunshot.

  René grunted, but Duncan had no time to see if his

  brother had been hurt, because a snarling fury hit him

  hard and sent him sprawling backwards.

  Teeth tore into his shoulder and arm. He hissed and

  thrust his hands between them, grabbing Betise by the

  throat and forcing her back, away from his neck. Saliva

  dripped from her huge jaws, splashing across his chest

  as she snarled and snapped and twisted, her strength

  almost as great as his own. Her nails tore into his bare

>   stomach and cut down his side as she scrambled to gain

  purchase against him. Her eyes gleamed with malevolent

  fire, and he had no doubt that she intended to kill him.

  Not because she hated him, but because she loved him.

  Because he wouldn’t—couldn’t—love her.

  He thrust her back with all his force and lunged

  sideways. The rush of howling air told him she was closing

  in again. His nails dug into the cold dirt floor as he wrapped

  his fingers around a rock. With a grunt of effort, he swung

  around, smashing it across Betise’s snarling snout, beating

  her away. Her growl became a yelp of pain as she leapt

  out of his reach. He let go of the rock and reached

  desperately for the chains around his feet. He had to work

  them free so he could move. Could change. Claws

  scrambled against dirt and stone behind him, then air

  rushed over him. He threw himself sideways, punching

  upwards at the silver form that flew overhead. His fist

  sank deep, but she didn’t seem to feel it, twisting in midair

  so that she landed facing him. With one bound, she was

  on him again.

  He thrust his hand out, his fingers digging into her

  thick neck, his whole arm trembling with the effort of

  keeping her snarling, snapping canines away from his

  throat.

  Warmth flooded across his skin, and a golden haze of

  energy covered her form as she shifted shape once again.

  He bucked, trying to get her off him, but she screamed, a

  sound so high-pitched it hurt his ears. Then her knee

  found his groin. Pain flooded him, an all-consuming red

  haze, and suddenly it was all he could do to even breathe.

  Energy rolled across his skin again, then she was on him

  in wolf form, tearing into his shoulders and chest.

  Somehow he forced his arms between them and

  pushed her back. Her teeth sank deep into his forearm, a

  sharp pain that battled the deep ache in his groin. He

  swore and thrust two straightened fingers deep into her

  throat. She coughed but didn’t release her hold, worrying

  at his flesh like a dog with a bone.

  He swore again and punched her across the ears. She

  shook her head, sending saliva and blood flying, but she

  didn’t let go. Just kept tearing and gnawing at his arm.

  From out of the night came a flash of gold that hit

  Betise broadside and sent her flying. The two wolves

  tumbled beyond his line of sight, their growls mixing with