Secrets of a Midnight Moon--The Moon Trilogy--Book One

by Jane Bonander

  She panicked. “I … I don’t know how to get there.”

  “Gladhew …” Marcus motioned to Shy Fawn.

  “No! Marcus, believe me. I don’t know how to get there.”

  Marcus struck her, sending her crashing back against the sofa. Black specks danced in front of her eyes, and her ears roared. A throbbing pain shot up from her jaw to her temple. “You can beat me to death, Marcus,” she said, her voice low and husky, “but I can’t tell you something I don’t know.”

  Marcus almost struck her again, but then Shy Fawn was on her feet, saying, “I know. I’ll take you.”

  Anna shook her head. “No, Shy Fawn, we can’t—”

  Marcus yanked Anna up by her hair. Her scalp prickled with fear and pain as he pulled her hair into a knot and forced her face close to his.

  “You’ll both come with us. And,” he sneered, “you will behave. Don’t think I’ll stop at hurting you. I have no feelings for you other than loathing. Your kind deserves worse than shunning. Your kind of white is the worst kind. Your kind,” he spewed, “willingly spreads her legs for savages and sleeps in their flea-ridden beds on the floor.”

  “She’s a friggin’ Indian lover,” Gladhew chortled.

  Marcus continued to hold her hair around his fist. “And Freeman, here, isn’t fussy about his women. Do you understand? If the squaw doesn’t show us the right way, I’ll have all of you killed. But first,” he said through gritted teeth, “I’ll let Freeman have you both.”

  Anna looked at Freeman, who was on his haunches in front of Cub, distracting the child by making silly faces at him. She wondered if Marcus was only using Freeman as a threat to keep her and Shy Fawn in line. The man didn’t appear all that menacing.

  Her gaze drifted back to Marcus. His knowing sneer made her angry. Everything he was, she despised. Everything he held sacred, she abhorred. Suddenly she thought of Jean-Claude.

  “What would your father say if he knew you were doing this?” The hand in her hair twisted tighter, and she squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, Marcus’s hazel ones were looking back at her, filled with hatred.

  “That won’t work, bitch,” he hissed. “My father was a fool. And he had the same stupid ideas about savages that you seem to have.” His mouth moved into a menacing grin. “Unfortunately for all of us, his dalliance resulted in a savage who took a share of an inheritance that was meant for me.”

  The slur wasn’t lost on Anna. She glared at him. “You are the savage, Marcus. Nicolas is ten times the civilized man you’ll ever hope to be.”

  His eyes glittered with hatred. He shoved her away from him. “You’ll pay for that. But not just yet.” His lips slid into an evil grin. “Freeman? How would you like to screw this Indian lover while the illustrious Midnight Marauder looks on? With a knife at his throat?”

  “Shee-it!” Freeman grinned and scratched his crotch.

  Fear and hatred roiled around in Anna’s stomach. It was so strong, it felt like poison. “Nicolas will kill you.”

  Marcus smirked. “I don’t think so. You know,” he said, in a conversational tone that irritated her, “I should have put this all together weeks ago. Unlike the rest of the town, I knew there were savages smart enough to pull off all those kidnappings. Well,” he amended, “half-breeds, anyway. But I’ve never met one who had enough energy or brains to get up off his dead ass.” He smirked. “My half brother actually surprises me.”

  “He will kill you.” She punctuated her words with hatred.

  Marcus snorted. “With what? I don’t care how many other renegades he’s hiding up in the mountains. Surprise is the key.”

  Anna’s stomach dropped. Renegades? All Nicolas had was a bunch of children and a motheaten blacksmith. What hope did they have against men with guns?

  “We’ve got the advantage. First of all,” he said, going to his desk and pulling out two leather thongs, “we’re picking up some help on the way.”

  Anna bit down on her lower lip. Marcus was bringing more men. Nicolas and the children’s chances of survival lessened by the minute.

  Marcus tossed a leather thong to Gladhew, who bound Shy Fawn’s wrists. “Secondly,” he said as he spun Anna around to face him and began tying her wrists, “if he tries anything, I will kill you.”

  Anna winced as the leather dug into her skin. “He won’t care,” she lied.

  “We’ll see,” Marcus said with a half smile. “We’ll see. Now,” he said, steering her toward the door. “You’ll ride with me, and the squaw rides with Gladhew. The nit,” he said, as they walked toward the door, “rides with Freeman. And, don’t let his gentle ways fool you. Freeman?”

  “Yeah?” The tracker grabbed Cub up off the floor and gave him another piece of jerky.

  “What happened to that little nit you couldn’t keep quiet last week?”

  Anna’s heart lurched. She looked at Shy Fawn, whose eyes were glazed with fear.

  Freeman chucked Cub under his bloody chin. “Aw, hell I had to kill the little bugger.”

  Nicolas left Shy Fawn’s cabin and met Sky in front of the dormitory. He shook his head. “No sign of her.”

  Sky raised his eyes and scanned the granite cliffs. “It worries me, Nicolas. Where would she go?”

  Nicolas raked his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “This is my fault. But I really thought she’d come to accept—” He swore. “I could have sworn she was warming to the idea of you and … and her.”

  Sky looked off into the trees. “I thought so, too.”

  Nicolas watched the children huddle together near the big cook fire. They were cold, but he knew they were also afraid. First their lives had been sent into chaos when Anna had been taken from them. Now, the only other mother figure they’d known in almost a year had vanished. They looked like orphans. His heart sank like a rock.

  Jake galloped into the compound. He slid off his mount even before he came to a full stop. “Nick!”

  Startled at his brother’s frantic tone, Nicolas ran to meet him. “What is it?”

  “We’ve got trouble.”

  Nicolas and Sky followed Jake into the barn. Joke joined them.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Someone’s found the trail,” Jake said, catching his breath.

  Nicolas turned away and stared outside at the children, who were still huddled around the fire.

  “How many?”

  “Five or six, at least.”

  “Vigilantes?” Fear stalked Nicolas’s spine.

  “They’re not wearing masks.”

  Nicolas whirled around. “You saw who they were?”

  Jake hesitated, then nodded. “It’s Marcus, Mueller, and Dickson. There are a couple of others I don’t recognize. But that’s not the worst of it, Nicolas. Shy Fawn and Cub are with them.”

  Nicolas felt the blood drain from his face. “They must be using her to lead them here.” He looked at Sky, whose throat muscles were corded into knots.

  Jake gripped his brother’s shoulders. “There’s more,” he said in a quiet voice.

  Nicolas wrenched himself free and headed for the door. “We can’t waste any time.”

  “Nicolas!”

  Nicolas threw his brother an impatient look over his shoulder.

  “Anna’s with them.”

  Anna clung to the saddle horn. The laces that bound her wrists pulled and pinched her skin. She squinted at the riders ahead of them and wondered if Shy Fawn had given Gladhew the right directions. She had a feeling Shy Fawn would lead them the right way, for Freeman’s knife was never far from Cub’s throat.

  Oh, Nicolas, will you have any warning at all? She’d never seen the entrance to the valley from this side, but if Shy Fawn feared for Cub’s life and her own, the tall, flat granite cliffs that lay ahead were the protection that surrounded the compound. But she knew how well hidden they were in the valley between the rocky cliffs. She also knew that meant it was impossible to see someone coming from the inside.

  H
er eyes darted over the dense brush. Ever since they’d left Pine Valley, the horses had been carefully picking their way through the woods. If there was a trail here, Anna couldn’t see it. About an hour before, Brad Dickson and Dolf Mueller had met them at the river. So now, Anna thought, there were five men against Nicolas and a pack of innocent children. Five men who wouldn’t blink an eye at killing an Indian.

  Dolf sidled up beside them on his bay gelding. “So, Marcus. Freeman is too much talking.”

  Anna didn’t look at Dolf, but she could hear him wheezing, as if he, and not his horse, carried the burden.

  “Freeman always talks too much.” Marcus sounded unconcerned.

  “Jawohl, but he talks about a promise you gave him.”

  “What promise?”

  “About the squaw and … and her.”

  Anna looked straight ahead. The thought of either man touching her made her sick.

  She realized that if she’d stayed quiet this morning and had gone for help on her own, they wouldn’t be heading straight for the compound. But no! She’d wanted to prevent Shy Fawn from telling them where to find Nicolas. Now, because of her, the vigilantes were heading right for him.

  “Well?” Dolf asked.

  Marcus shifted behind Anna. “Well, what?”

  “What about the promise you made to me?” Dolf asked under his breath.

  “Dammit, not now, Dolf.”

  “Jawohl, now!”

  A shot rang out. Marcus’s horse shied, and Anna slid off, onto the ground. She pulled herself up and ran into the brush.

  “Dammit! Don’t let her get away!” Marcus shouted above the confusion.

  Anna threw a quick glance over her shoulder. Dolf dismounted and lumbered after her. She pulled and tugged at her bound wrists, trying to get her hands free. The leather lacing merely dug deeper, stinging and burning her flesh. On she ran, through the trees, holding her hands up to protect her face from the thorny bushes.

  Another volley of shots shattered the air behind her. The children! She had to find an opening into the compound so she could warn Nicolas and the children.

  One of her soft-soled slippers came off as she ran, and cold, sharp rock gashed the bottom of her foot. She sucked the frosty, wet air into her lungs and felt it burn a fiery path down her throat and into her chest. She ran wildly, holding her hands up to protect her face from the branches that whipped and scraped against her.

  Her calves and her arms ached. There was a soreness, a tightness in the small of her back. Pain shot up her spine, spreading through her neck like fire.

  She could feel Dolf behind her. The thudding of his heavy footsteps spurred her on. Her cheek, where Marcus had hit her, throbbed. Hair flopped into her face, sticking to her skin, and she didn’t know if her face was wet from tears or blood.

  Suddenly she twisted her ankle and fell, hitting the ground hard. The shock from the impact drove the air from her lungs.

  She lay there, struggling for breath. Tears sprang to her eyes as she gasped for air.

  “Ach, fraulein.” She felt Dolf’s hot, wheezing breath against her ear. She grabbed fists full of rock and soil in a futile attempt to get back on her feet.

  “Nein, Anna,” he snuffled as he pulled her up against him. “Don’t fight me.”

  She sucked in greedy gulps of earth-laden air. Dolf’s arm was clamped around her waist. She tried again to wrench free, ramming her elbows into his belly and kicking his shins.

  He yanked her to her fleet and pulled her with him farther into the bushes. When she stumbled against him, unable to steady herself, he hauled her into his arms and dragged on.

  He reached a cavelike hollow and dropped her on the ground. With the heels of both feet, Anna shoved herself back against the rock. Dolf stood over her, the grimace on his face pushing his fat, red cheeks up so they almost covered his eyes. The nostrils of his bulbous nose flared as he breathed, and spittle clung to the corners of his fleshy mouth.

  He bent down and touched the tender skin on her cheek. “He hurt you,” he said, his voice husky. “The half-breed savitch hurt you.”

  “No! It wasn’t him—”

  “I won’t hurt you, mein liebling. I will take you where no filthy savitch can hurt you again.”

  There was an odd smile on his pulpy lips. Anna tried to scoot around him, but his beefy hands closed over her shoulders and he shoved her against a tree.

  He pressed himself against her, wheezing into her face. “Anna, mein Anna.”

  Her head jerked to the side as she tried to avoid his wet mouth. Her bound wrists were pressed into his soft lower belly, and she felt him come alive against her.

  “Ach, yes! Fight me!” he gasped, pressing moist kisses against her neck.

  “Dolf!”

  Anna’s eyes flew open and Dolf stiffened. Nicolas stood behind Dolf, aiming his gun at Dolf s back.

  “Let her go.”

  Dolf whirled, pulling Anna around in front of him. He pressed a knife to her throat. “Nein, savitch,” he wheezed, “drop your gun.”

  The blade of Dolf s knife was cold against her skin. Anna swallowed and, for Nicolas’s sake, tried not to look afraid.

  Nicolas hesitated a moment before lowering his arm, letting his gun fall to the ground.

  Dolf laughed. “Now who’s in control, savitch?” He pulled Anna tighter against him and moved one hand up to cup her breast.

  Anna couldn’t stop herself from shuddering as his touch sent waves of bile up into her throat.

  Nicolas took a step toward them.

  “Stop!”

  Nicolas paused, and Dolf s hand moved slowly up over Anna’s breasts to her hair. “How pretty she is, savitch,” he taunted.

  Nicolas took another step. Anna gripped her hands together and swung her right elbow around, catching Dolf in the stomach.

  As his arm flew out, Anna ducked under it and stumbled toward Nicolas. He pushed her to one side and dove at Dolf. As he gripped Dolf s wrist in an attempt to wrest the knife away, Dolf kneed him in the groin. Nicolas grunted in pain and they fell to the ground, rolling as they struggled. Dolf grabbed Nicolas’s hair and jerked it back, pulling his head with it. He brought his knife to Nicolas’s throat.

  Without a second thought Anna had hoisted a loose branch off the forest floor. Now she heaved it at Dolf’s head, catching him off guard.

  Nicolas wrenched the knife from Dolf’s hand and smashed his fist against the German’s jaw. Dolf fell, unconscious.

  Anna slid to the ground, shivering from fear and shock. Nicolas ran to her and folded her in his arms. He hugged her briefly before slicing the thong from her wrists.

  “Oh God, oh God, oh God!” She clung to him as he lifted her to her feet. She pressed her face into his neck and breathed in the musky, sweaty smell of him. “Oh, Nicolas!” She kissed his wet, salty skin. “I was terrified you’d have no warning—”

  He held her against him. “Everything’s fine, sweetheart.”

  “The children?” She squeezed her eyes closed and held her breath.

  “They’re safe. Jake spotted Marcus and warned us.”

  Relief showered through her. “Oh, thank God!”

  He held her hard.

  “Oh, Nicolas, I … I didn’t want Shy Fawn to lead them here, but they had a knife on Cub—” She swallowed her tears.

  “I know,” he soothed. “There was nothing else either of you could—”

  Anna looked up at him, wondering why he’d stopped. Then she heard the soft, sinister laughter behind her.

  “Well, well. If it isn’t the bastard half-breed and the Indian lover.”

  Anna turned and looked into the barrel of Marcus’s gun.

  Nicolas shifted slightly, shielding most of Anna’s body.

  Marcus smirked. “At last. I have the Midnight Marauder where I want him.” He stepped over Dolf and moved closer.

  Nicolas had his hand on Anna’s waist. It felt to her as if he were getting ready to push her away.

  �
��Let Anna go, Marc.”

  “Like hell I will. She deserves to be shot, right along with you.”

  “Marc, you don’t really want to do this.”

  Anna knew Nicolas was stalling for time. Anything to keep Marcus from killing them.

  Marcus laughed again. “Oh, but I do, dear brother, ” he spat. “But first let me tell you how long I’ve hated you. You always knew just what to say to Father, didn’t you? You always wormed your way into his affections, doing just what he wanted you to do.”

  “I loved him, Marc.”

  Anna heard the pain in Nicolas’s voice. She gripped his hand.

  Marc sneered. “Of course you loved him. Why wouldn’t you? You were a dirty, scrawny, sniveling animal. He took you in and gave you an equal share of something that should have been all mine! I hated him for that. I’ll never understand how he could love something that had been spawned in a squaw’s belly.”

  Anna felt Nicolas tense.

  “When did you suspect me, Marc?” Nicolas asked, his voice smooth and even.

  Anna couldn’t believe his control. She could feel every nerve in his body vibrating against her.

  “Months ago. I found a piece of your jacket clinging to a branch, soaked with blood.”

  “Ah,” Nicolas breathed. “And you were certain the jacket was mine?”

  Marcus smirked. “Of course. The buckskin was worked to perfection. Just like mine.”

  “You always were the clever one, Marc.”

  Hearing the sound of a gun being cocked in the clearing, Nicolas pushed Anna to the ground. A shot split the air and Anna screamed, putting out her hands to break her fall. Then she lay stunned a moment, the ground cold against her cheek.

  She tried to push herself up, terrified for Nicolas. Instead, it was Marcus lying on the ground, blood oozing from a gaping hole in his chest. Dolf stood over him.

  She turned to Nicolas, who was on his stomach, his hand inching toward his gun. She watched in horror as Dolf slowly raised his rifle.

  His finger squeezed the trigger.

  “No!” she screamed as the shot rang out. Blood spurted from Nicolas’s hand.

  “No! Oh, no!” she cried again, crawling to Nicolas on her hands and knees.

  “Stay where you are, fraulein, or I will kill him now.”