Twelve

 

 

 

Resisting the urge to spit out the wine that was halfway down her throat, Luna quickly swallowed, ignoring the burning sensation and panic that followed. “What? They’re here? Cassandra said they wouldn’t arrive for a few more days.”

“Lower your voice, Luna, people are watching,” Pierre told her, sipping his wine, his face a mask of casualness. “Do not worry, I am here, and it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Of course it means something. I have werewolves after me, for Christ’s sake!” she hissed.

“It doesn’t mean it is one of them. There are still one or two of your brother’s pack that I have yet to meet. It could be one of them for all we know.”

“With my history, what you do think the chances are of that being the case, Pierre?” she asked, bitterness tinging her words.

Pierre looked at her from across the top of his glass, his eyes gleaming. “Ah, my little one, you’re too young to sound so jaded.”

“I’m twenty-seven, Pierre, but in the last year my parents have been killed, a fae has attacked my brother and me, and now a demented werewolf alpha is out to get me. I think a little jadedness is in order.” Gulping down a large mouthful of wine, Luna raised her eyes to meet Pierre’s once more. This time, she could feel the concern radiating from them. “What are we going to do?”

Setting down his glass, Pierre lifted a hand. A second later, the young curly-haired waitress who clearly had a crush on him, arrived at his side. “The bill, please, Mademoiselle,” he asked her, reverting to English.

Large brown eyes widened as she clutched a menu in her hands. “Did you not want to see the menu, Señor d’Aguesseau? Our specials are particularly good this evening.”

Pierre merely shook his head, giving her a knee-melting smile. “Another time. Something has come up.”

Sadness filled those dark eyes. The young girl, barely in her twenties, hurried away from the table. “I think you’ve just broken that poor girl’s heart,” Luna told him, trying to recapture the light-heartedness of just moments ago.

Pierre waved a hand in dismissal. “She’ll survive. I’m more concerned with keeping you safe.”

Dread filled the pit of her stomach. “So you are concerned about what’s out there?”

Without saying another word, he reached down for his wallet and handed several bills to the young waitress who had returned clutching their bill. He reached out with a hand. “Do not worry, Luna. You will always be safe with me.”

Wordlessly, Luna reached up to take his hand, her eyes never leaving his. But still the pit of her stomach continued to fill with trepidation as Pierre’s expression quickly reverted to that deadly neutral look, his lawyer mask as she called it so often.

Willing her heartbeat to slow down unsuccessfully, Luna picked up her coat and allowed Pierre to guide her out of the restaurant. The muted conversations of the other diners faded underneath the din of the blood rushing through her veins. Outside, the fluorescent lights of the restaurant and stores along the main road caused the fallen snow to resemble a kaleidoscope of colours. A chill permeated the air, causing Luna to shiver. Silently, Pierre released her hand to help her put her coat on, a gentlemanly gesture Luna had always adored about him.

Coat on, Pierre took her by the hand once more, leading her away from the restaurant. This was nothing unusual in itself, but Luna could feel his grip tightening around her fingers. The bottomless pit feeling resurfaced in her gut once again as Pierre hurried them down the road. The sense of urgency in his step was unmistakable.

“Pierre,” Luna whispered, her voice barely audible to her own ears.

Instead of answering, he ignored her, squeezing her hand tighter as he picked up the pace. Suddenly, the temperature dropped, and a blast of cold air hit her, sending her hair to mask her vision. Spluttering hair out of her mouth, Luna relied on Pierre’s guidance, manoeuvring her around patches of ice and piles of fresh snow. Hair now out of her eyes, she spied his rental car, the silver paintwork glistening in the shadows of the road just off the side of the park. A few fairy-lights still hung in the trees, giving it a somewhere lacklustre appearance compared to only a few days ago.

No one was around. Or at least that what it seemed.

But she knew all too well that shadows could hide more than what the light could ever reveal.

Once the car was within easy distance, Pierre hurried up. By now, they were almost jogging. Reaching into his pocket, a low beep sounded just a second before his hand reached for the handle of the car. “Quickly, get in,” he told her, ushering her inside, the car keys in his hand cutting into the delicate flesh of her palm.

Luna hurried as quickly as she could, the lump in the back of her throat swelling from the size of a grape to that of a tennis ball. Pierre propelled her forward. Her rear hadn’t even touched the seat when a blast of warm air hit her from one side.

Frightened birds scattered from the nearby trees, flying blindly into the sky. A grunt pierced the air, followed by a growl. Twisting her head, Luna made out a dark figure on the floor, pinning Pierre beneath him.

The werewolf.

He was here.

Luna watched as the dark figure, clothed in black, pulled back his arm before swiftly punching Pierre in his stomach. His clothes helped him to blend into the shadows; all she could make out was pale skin, almost as pale as Pierre’s before her former lover’s fist made contact with the side of his face.

With a grunt, the werewolf sprawled to the side, his weight slamming the car door shut. Instinctively, Luna leaned backwards, her body pressing into the gearstick. Through the window, the night-time shadows hid much of the fight, barely allowing her to recognise which fist belonged to whom.

Suddenly, she watched Pierre being thrown across the hood of the car, glints of his blonde hair piercing through the darkness.

A rap at the window forced her to turn back, her heart pounding. A pair of dark eyes gazed fiercely at her through the glass, as if sizing her up. A pale tongue flicked across the werewolf’s lips, a nasty scar at the right corner of his mouth giving him a sinister look. “Come out, come out, little girl.”

Swallowing down her fear, Luna found she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him no matter how much she wanted to. “Not by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin,” she whispered, the blood in her veins pumping so loud she could barely hear her words.

But he did. The scarred side of his mouth turned up into a half-grin, his eyes burning bright. A low growl echoed around her. As he reached for the handle, Luna automatically reached for the dagger sitting in its hilt at the small of her back.

Only she never got to it.

A blur of motion caught her attention. Pierre’s leg struck the werewolf’s side, producing a yelp as he crashed to the ground. “Luna, get out of here!” she heard Pierre shout before watching blood splatter across his face.

“I can’t leave you!” she cried out, shaking her head.

“Just get to your brother. Go. I’ll be fine,” he shouted, his fist swinging through the air, landing in his opponent’s stomach.

“But I don’t have the keys …” she murmured, tears blurring the corners of her vision. A loud growl boomed in her ears. Frantically, Luna began searching for another set of keys, her fingers trembling as they scurried across the dashboard, the glovebox, underneath. A glimmer caught from the corner of her eyes caught her attention.

The keys.

Pierre must have dropped them when he attacked. Wedged between the seat and the door, they sat, a beacon of hope in a turbulent ocean of chaos and death. Fishing them out, she manoeuvred herself into the driver’s seat. It took three goes before the damn thing would fit but as the engine roared to life, adrenaline rushed through her.

“Go!” Without hesitation this time, Luna pressed down on the accelerator. Tires squealing, she yanked the wheel to the side, trying to get as much distance between her and the werewolf. In the rear-view mirror, she watched Pierre tackle him to the ground, preventing him from following her. Another glance saw Pierre’s fist burying itself in the werewolf’s throat.

Gasping for much-needed air, Luna attempted to focus on the road. The town’s main road soon disappeared, leaving nothing but shadows and dark trees looming before and behind her. “Chase, where the hell are you? I’m going to neuter you when I get hold of you!” she muttered, trying to force back the tears threatening to spill over so she could concentrate on the road.

Where was he? Michael had ordered him to stay close to them so why wasn’t he there when they were attacked? Shaking her head, Luna gasped as the headlights revealed a figure standing in the middle of the road.

The car skidded as she jerked the wheel to the right and her startled cries drowned out the hiss of the tires on the icy road. Tightening her grip on the steering wheel, she watched the world go past her in a blur of motion, her hair whipping across her face. Her cries ceased as the airbags knocked her backwards and sideways. The car continued to slide until it finally came to an abrupt stop. Dull moans filled her world, and it took her a minute to realise that they belonged to her.

Luna tried to move but found her body uncooperative. She was fleetingly aware of a coppery taste in her mouth. Raising a finger to her lips, she felt wetness coat the digit. As she glanced down, Luna soon became aware of what it was - blood. Pain ebbed throughout her body, her mind numb. Only blood filled her vision.

The sound of metal grinding and the whoosh of a cold breeze flowing past her caused Luna to turn her head. “Well, well, well. What do we have ‘ere? A lady like you shouldn’t be driving in weather like this.”

Breathing hard, Luna forced herself to focus. Pale green eyes, lighter than her own, broke through the darkness of the quiet road. A square jaw covered in thick stubble and a hooked nose came into view. Fleetingly, she thought it a rather handsome face in a bad-boy-turned-bad kind of way.

All of a sudden, hands reached inside and dragged her out of the car. When her entire body was finally out of the vehicle, the stranger flipped her up over his shoulder and began walking down the street away from town.

Great, another werewolf. Just what she needed.

Actually, what she needed was a bucket. The contents of her stomach, although not much, threatened to rise up as her vision still swam at the corners. She was vaguely aware of gagging noises.

“Don’t you dare hurl on me,” the new werewolf told her, smacking her arse. “You do and I’ll make you lick every drop of it off. Hmm, I like the sound of you licking me. I’d make you start with my toes and never get past my cock.” A hand started to caress her buttocks, sending another wave of revulsion through her. “Yeah, I like that idea alright. Maybe I’ll teach you a few things. Give ya a real introduction to our pack before the alpha makes you his. I reckon you’d enjoy yourself.” Luna shuddered at the undiluted lust in his voice. Bile rose up in her throat. 

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Luna muttered through clenched teeth. She sucked in a breath. Thankfully, he hadn’t discovered her dagger, now sitting on the side of her hip, dislodged from the crash. If only I could reach it …

But her arms refused to work. All she could do was hang over his damn shoulder gasping for breath like a fish freshly caught from the river. But as she dangled, a flicker of motion from the corner of her eye caused her to turn her head sharply.

Her captor mirrored her action a second later, but it was too late.

Luna was still trying to figure out what was happening even as she was thrown across the road. Her body exploded in a new wave of pain, her vision flashing from bitter darkness to blinding white light. Landing face-first into a patch of fresh snow, her mouth filled with the fresh powder as she cried out. Spitting the contents out, moans quickly followed, her head swimming from the pain that racked her entire body. Tears flowed freely from her eyes. In her ears, the blood echoed the sound of the restless ocean, each heartbeat a deafening wave.

From a distance, Luna could hear … something. A growl, a thud, a sound of pain. Blinking back the tears, the darkness, the brilliant white light that all competed to win, she finally made out two figures fighting only feet away from her.

A whimper slipped from her lips as she tried to push up from the freezing ground only to fail. Another wave of pain flowed through her as her chin scrapped across a rock. All she could do was lay there and watch the two figures go at it. Who would win, who would claim her … she couldn’t tell.

Lying there, Luna willed herself to concentrate. The bigger one was obviously her captor, his body substantial than what she realised, bulkier. Dark clothing helped him to blend into the night. Bad guys need to go to Macy’s and brighten up their wardrobe, she thought to herself, the image of the Crescent Moon pack shopping for lilac and pink shirts coming to her out of nowhere. Maybe it’s the blood loss …

The second figure dived to the side, narrowly missing a sharp kick. She couldn’t make out who it was, their hooded sweater and the shadows masking their facial features, but whoever they were, they were undoubtedly more agile and faster. Skilfully, the second figure jumped and struck out, a punch to the side, a kick to the knee. Quickly, the werewolf fell to his knees. Before he could get up though, his body twisted around, his face contorting into an expression of terror and surprise. Warmth splattered across Luna’s face, wringing a gasp from her exhausted body. A second later, his severed head landed in front of her, his open eyes staring lifelessly into hers.

A scream lodged itself in the back of her throat, but no matter how hard Luna tried, it wouldn’t escape. Instead, the scream echoed in her head, one that threatened never to fade.

A moment later, a warm hand touched the side of her face. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of here,” the shadowy figure told her.

I know that voice from somewhere … but before Luna could place it, the figure collapsed on top of her. Raising her eyes, an icy fear gripped her heart. Another figure cloaked in shadows loomed over her.

“Thanks, but I’ll take it from here.”