Tangled Moon Page 2

  Nick was in a cloud. Sort of like when he used to ride to school with Billy and Joe, and the whole car filled with . . . well, something he didn’t partake in anymore. He was aware of his surroundings, but he didn’t care about them. Not about her partner standing behind her, or Greg watching them like they’d both lost their minds. Part of him yelled in warning—she’s dangerous. He denied that. She was too small to be dangerous.

  Her growl cut short when Lothar snagged her sleeve, pulling her back.

  Her polite smile returned as if nothing had happened. “My condolences to you and your family,” she said in a monotone.

  “Stay off trails, both of you,” Lothar warned, turning, his hand on her lower back as he prodded her away. “And let us do our job.”

  Nick watched them cross the quiet street and climb into a white full-sized van with the words, Ludvitski Wildlife Specialists, stretched in black letters across the side.

  “Well, that was different,” Greg said. He blew out a breath. “Still, I’d hunt down a bear with her any day.”

  “Just stay away from Danielle,” Nick said, turning on him.

  When Greg winced, Nick stopped dead in his tracks. What was he doing, crashing antlers? First Lothar, now Greg. He needed some sleep, because he was losing it.

  “Sure, no problem,” Greg said, lifting his hands in surrender. “I thought you and Genevieve were a thing?”

  “Not anymore. Genevieve’s high maintenance. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  “You don’t think there’s some psychopath hiding out in the forest. I mean, people do get attacked by bears.”

  “I’m not sure what to think.” Nick’s gaze focused past his parents’ house and into the wilderness beyond.

  “If there’s some madman out there, I could really use your help,” Greg said.

  Nick turned back to him. “I’ll be around.”

  “Have you considered taking the sheriff’s position? I’m sure the town would be grateful.”

  “Me? Sheriff?”

  “Right.” Greg smiled tightly. “I guess you’re above all this.” Turning, he walked away, hands in his pockets.

  Nick felt immediately guilty. “Wait.” He caught up with Greg. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Not everyone is cut out for big city life, you know.”

  “I know. I’m not sure I’m cut out for it either.”

  Nick lived in New York because his job gave him purpose. That didn’t mean he’d forgotten his family. He always missed them. And now he would miss Jason for the rest of his life.

  “Hey, I was thinking about taking my Mustang out of retirement.” Nick tilted his head in the direction of the backyard, where his once prized possession rested on cinderblocks with a blue tarp over it.

  Greg ran a hand through his hair, making his curls pop up. “What does that have to do with me?”

  Nick shrugged. “Yeah, you’re right. I should leave it on blocks. I prefer my truck anyway.” He walked away, hoping Greg would take the bait.

  “Wait.” Greg caught up with him. “If I help you get it running, do I get to drive it?”

  “When we get it running, you can have it.”

  Nick walked away, feeling almost good about himself for the first time since he’d gotten the call about Jason. The feeling didn’t last long. He caught a whiff of Danielle’s scent left behind her in the yard and found himself resisting the urge to hunt her down.

  Nick wasn’t like other people. He and Jason had never had the flu, injuries healed easily all on their own, and they both had a sixth sense. Jason used to say they were like Clark Kent, their secret abilities sheltered by their adoptive parents. Now Jason was gone, and Nick had no one but himself.

  * * *

  Danielle stared out the passenger window in the van, watching trees whir by and trying to forget what had just happened. Unfortunately, she could still smell Nick Shepard on Lothar where they’d shaken hands, and that was making it impossible.

  “Are you all right?” Lothar asked.

  She didn’t want to talk about it. Her loss of control in front of the mortals embarrassed her. With effort, she looked at him. “I’m fine.” She smoothed her hands over her sweater dress while she thought up an excuse for her behavior. “Shepard bothers me is all. You know the type. The kind that get in our way.”

  No, that wasn’t true. Detective Nick Shepard hadn’t bothered her. It was something else. Something she didn’t understand.

  She made it a point to spend as little time with humans as possible. She knew how to fit in, how to act politely, and to pretend she was who she claimed to be. She and Lothar both had fictional backgrounds. She told people she was twenty-four years old, had graduated from Cornell University, and that she was originally from Buffalo, NY.

  None of it was true. Even her last name was an alias.

  Ignoring Detective Shepard would be smart, but how could she, when she needed answers?

  “I should keep an eye on him,” she said. “Make sure he doesn’t get himself hurt.” And find out what’s wrong with me.

  Lothar’s chin lifted imperceptibly. His scent changed. She knew something was wrong.

  She shifted on her seat, not liking that at all. “What’s with you? You’re on the defense.”

  “I am not on defense.” He took a breath, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel.

  Danielle had been around plenty others of her kind over the years, including Lothar’s family when she’d lived in Lithuania. Werewolves struggled to control themselves as a general rule. But not him. He was better at it than most.

  “Like you said.” Lothar looked straight ahead. “He is one of those types.”

  “Yeah. One of them,” she repeated, not believing a word.

  They’d crossed paths with mortals who couldn’t leave well enough alone before. Sometimes the unsuspecting mortal got a whole lot more than they’d bargained for.

  She and Lothar had recently tracked a mated pair of vampires down from Canada. One male and one female. They were somewhere in that forest and one of them had killed Nick’s brother. She imagined the tall, muscled Nick Shepard stretched out on the forest floor, broken and lifeless.

  Her lips curled into a snarl.

  Lothar turned off the pavement and onto the gravel road to the cabin. Danielle worked on controlling her emotions. She used the breathing exercises she’d learned years before, focusing her thoughts on something safe, like the maintenance work on the cabin they’d purchased.

  Yes. Paint and screwdrivers. That was the way to go.

  They bought real estate from time to time, unusually the worst house they could find, and then remodeled it during the daylight hours. Werewolves required little sleep; their magic kept them active. Vampires—like other monsters—came out after dark, so she and Lothar had time on their hands. They would flip the cabin when they left town, making a profit. Not that they needed it. Not Lothar anyway. He was from old money. He hated being idle, however, and the work kept him busy. Since Danielle didn’t have a life to speak of, she went along for the ride.

  This particular home, if one dared call it that, lacked certain modern amenities. A tub and hot water to be precise. She took pride in having few human frailties. Warm water was one of her weaknesses. Clothing in fabrics that felt nice against her skin was another. Satin, silk, soft knitted sweaters. She wondered what Nick’s hair felt like.

  Danielle sat up straight in her seat. Stop that.

  She glanced at Lothar, wondering if he sensed her struggle. Corded muscles in his arms tensed as his fingers tightened so hard on the wheel the vinyl creaked. Yeah, he sensed it.

  “Careful,” she warned. “You’ll break that.”

  He loosened his grip, the steering wheel practically sighing in relief.

  “Lothar?” She debated on how much to tell him, considering she didn’t understand it herself. Not to mention it was kinda humiliating. Then again, if anyone had an answer, it would be him. Right? She fired away. “Tell
me what I smelled back there.”

  “I am not sure.”

  “But you smelled it.”

  “Ne.”

  “What do you mean, no? I wasn’t asking. I see the way you’re acting. What did you smell?”

  “I have been away from home too long.” He stared out the windshield, avoiding eye contact with her. She had the impression the conversation was over. He pulled up the drive to the cabin, twigs snapping beneath the tires. He put the van into park and shut off the engine.

  Silence.

  “Maybe we could both use a little vacation,” she said.

  “Taip.”

  He was a man of few words, even on a good day. This was no longer a good day.

  Danielle got out, shutting the door behind her. It took Lothar a moment, then his long form emerged. She watched him stare into the forest.

  “We could go to Lithuania after we finish here,” she said. He probably missed his family way on the other side of the globe. She understood what that felt like. Only she couldn’t go home. She had nowhere to go.

  “I might,” he said.

  She didn’t like his tone of voice, or his use of the singular, I. Fear coursed through her. What would she do without him? “You mean we.”

  He looked at her finally and smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. Turning, he sprinted into the forest, disappearing from view. She heard his familiar howl a moment later. Danielle sniffed the air. She couldn’t smell Detective Shepard.

  She ducked beneath a spruce tree and peeled out of her dress and boots. As she emerged from cover, her gaze drifted toward the driveway, now obscured by branches. Her thoughts went back in time to crunching gravel under tires. To a red Firebird pulling off a dirt road, the radio blasting.

  A boy in a letterman jacket and Nike sneakers getting out and slamming the door.

  To the ancient, powerful vampire, who had arranged ahead of time to meet him there.

  Danielle could still hear Lothar’s voice, younger, telling her to leave, to morph into a wolf once she’d reached the forest, and then run without looking back. She’d never been more afraid in her life, running until her lungs had burned, fearing all the while that she’d left Lothar behind to die.

  Turning from the painful memory, Danielle shapeshifted and loped into the forest. She howled, and Lothar answered. He came alongside her a moment later, a giant black wolf.

  Chapter Two

  Danielle stepped onto the driveway to the cabin with a towel slung over her shoulder. Her day had started with a cold bath in a nearby creek. Not an ideal situation by any means, especially with the weather just beginning to change for the year. Maybe Lothar would take pity on her and put in a hot water heater and a tub very quickly.

  The wind shifted, lifting damp strands of her hair. She caught a whiff of Nick Shepard’s unusual scent through the evergreens. He was in the forest. He hadn’t listened to them. She should have known he wouldn’t.

  Danielle glanced at the cabin where Lothar was busy replacing broken windows. Protocol dictated that she get permission from her alpha first. She decided she’d better check on Nick without telling Lothar. She didn’t bother giving her decision much thought, because she knew she wouldn’t like the answer. Ducking under a low hanging pine that was fast becoming her favorite cover for changing, she stripped out of her jeans and t-shirt, and shifted into a wolf.

  Vampires were nocturnal by nature because the sun burned their sensitive eyes, but that didn’t mean humans were free from danger. Nick could stumble into one hidden away in a dark place waiting for sunset. He was pathetically vulnerable. Just like his brother.

  She ran, halting every so often to test the air until she knew she was close. Danielle heard a twig pop under a rubber boot sole. She narrowed her senses again, and found the rhythm of his heart.

  She liked that sound; the human heart. She hadn’t fully understood how important it was until making her first trip to Lithuania. There, she’d continued her training with the Hunters, learning to track and kill monsters. After five years, Danielle had been sworn in as a Huntress.

  Lothar had been given no choice but to become a Hunter. After a trial before the Council, he was removed from the office of Mentor permanently. He’d spent those same five years on probation, forbidden to leave the castle that served as a training facility and headquarters. She’d been his last student.

  And it had all been her fault.

  Paralyzed by a broken spine after sacrificing himself to a vampire to save her, Lothar was bedridden for a solid month. His magic had eventually healed him, but his uncle, who was also High Councilor, suspected Lothar had become territorial over her.

  Territorial Aggression. It was a serious defect in their kind. A shapeshifting male with Territorial Aggression could not be trusted. They were usually put to death.

  Danielle clearly remembered the day she had been called in and questioned by the Council. She’d sworn under oath that she had not entered into any agreement that might make it difficult for her to bond with a genetically compatible mate—which Lothar was not. The Council had voted, and his uncle overruled.

  Danielle and Lothar were allowed to remain together. They could hunt and track as one. It was a trait not easily dismissed.

  There’d been a time when she knew with all her being that Lothar would be her first man. He kept his distance from her physically these days.

  Danielle took a moment to widen her search, focusing her senses outward. The thump of Nick’s heart shifted to the back of her awareness as she centered in on any sign of vampires. She heard rodents shuffling in the undergrowth, birds twittering and hopping from branch to branch. A squirrel chattered. There was no sign of danger.

  Danielle lifted her head, taking another whiff to pinpoint Nick’s exact location. Once she’d found him, she chose a nice spot where she could look down through the shelter of tree branches and settled in with her head on her front paws. Her ears flicked as she studied the sound of his heart for future reference. Committing it to memory would make it easier to track his whereabouts.

  Nick bent, examining something along one of the trails commonly used by hikers, probably one Jason had walked. Danielle whined. It just figured that Detective Shepard would snoop around until he’d found the killer. If he looked hard enough, he would find it all right.

  He straightened, continuing on his way. Nick was tall, like Lothar, but they had different builds. Lothar was streamlined, without an unnecessary ounce on his frame. Nick outweighed him by a good twenty pounds. No fat, but plenty of bulk. His hair was a rich brown, darker than hers, and it fell over his forehead just messy enough to make her want to fix it for him. Danielle remembered from their first encounter that his eyes were an unusual teal color.

  He had a handgun tucked into the waistband of his jeans. She snorted. That little pistol would be no use against a vampire.

  She doubted it would stop a bear.

  Danielle backed away, standing there a moment, considering what to do next. She smelled the air again and knew Nick would be safe, for now. She could run back to the cabin for her clothes then walk out and find him again as a woman.

  A surge shot up her spine, a playful growl filling her throat. Turning, she loped back to the cabin.

  * * *

  Nick knew he was being followed. Leaving the trail, he disappeared into the underbrush bordering Thomson’s Creek, and waited.

  Then she came. Unarmed, walking alone with a supposed mad bear on the rampage. Nick silenced a groan as he eased out from behind a blackberry bush. That woman would get herself killed. Wildlife specialist? Maybe at a conservation center, hand feeding orphaned fledglings. Not here.

  He avoided the poison ivy meandering up a tree as he approached. Danielle looked up, saw him, and then stopped dead in her tracks.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, smiling at the blank look on her face.

  Only seconds ago, he’d been ready to order her out of the forest. Now, with her standing right there in
front of him, he realized he just couldn’t do it. Because that would take her away from him.

  “I guess I should have said something first,” he told her.

  She shook her head. “You didn’t scare me. I knew you were there.” She pointed. “Why were you hiding in the bushes?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I had the feeling I was being watched.”

  “Military, yes?”

  “Good guess.”

  She was gorgeous. Right down to the melodic sound of her voice. A hint of her exotic scent washed over him. He took a step closer so he could smell her some more.

  “Why is it you can’t take your own advice?” he asked.

  She lifted her chin. “And what advice would that be, Detective Shepard?”

  He grinned, anticipation washing over him. What was he anticipating? He almost laughed. She was probably Lothar’s anyway.

  “Staying out of the forest,” he said finally.

  “I could ask you the same question. You were the one who was warned to stay out.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.” He shifted closer.

  Delicate nostrils flared and her brown eyes darkened by several shades. He’d never seen eyes like hers. They seemed to change with her mood. Sooty lashes lowered as she studied him from head to foot.

  Her gaze lifted back to his face, eyes jet black. Her lips twitched. Abruptly her mood changed, and she took a sudden step back, stumbling before she regained her balance.

  Nick caught her arm. “You all right?”

  Danielle pulled free. “Yes. Don’t touch me.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Gorgeous, she was.

  A few boards shy of the whole shed?

  Probably.

  “Maybe I should walk you back to your van. Where’s your partner?”

  She shrugged. “At the cabin. He doesn’t know I’m here.”

  “You walked out here alone, unarmed, and didn’t even tell anyone?”

  “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself in the wilderness.”

  He helped himself to a little sexism. He laughed.

  “What?”