Luna sighed, knowing he spoke the truth. She abhorred violence. If someone played a horror movie, she’d be the first to bury her head in a pillow. She couldn’t handle being in the same room as a spider without screaming. Anything fluttering around her head would send her running for the hills. Pierre had once told her she would be the perfect damsel in distress if anything bad happened.
How she’d attacked Lyulf instead of running a mile in the other direction didn’t make sense.
But then again, no one had ever tried to beat her brother to death in front of her before.
Michael took a step forward, his body stiff and obviously still in pain, but he radiated a sense of maturity and power never displayed before. It seemed strange how a few days could change a person’s view of someone, she thought. Not so long ago, she’d considered her brother terribly immature. Despite a successful business, Michael could never stay in a relationship with anyone for more than a month and hit the bars every weekend. For crying out loud, he still lived in the guesthouse on their parent’s property instead of in his own place. Everything was all about fun and good times.
Yet as Luna stood beside him, one hand locked tight around his arm in case he stumbled, she felt the change in him. Not the change from human into wolf, but the shift that only came with responsibility. It was the same energy she felt when she’d stood next to her father.
Now that he was dead, it looked as if Michael had large boots to fill.
“How you feeling?” Brad asked, his eyes locked on Michael as he slowly made his way to an oversized leather armchair.
“Not too bad,” he admitted, groaning as his body sank into the chair. “A few broken ribs and a concussion, that’s all. The change went quicker than usual, sucking all my energy with it. I’ll shift in a bit. That should help with the rest of the damage.”
Eying him wearily, Brad opened his mouth. “So it’s true then. You were attacked by this Lyulf character?”
Luna’s gaze snapped up. “You didn’t believe me?” she asked, her jaw tightening.
Far from being offended, Brad just shrugged, his face a mask of indifference. “Sorry, but you’re young and inexperienced to this world. You could’ve thought you’d seen something when you hadn’t, but you’d still smell like you’re telling the truth.”
Luna leaned towards her brother but kept her gaze on Brad. “You can smell if I’m telling the truth?” she whispered.
Michael let out a soft chuckle, pain edging it. “Yep. Werewolves can smell a lot of things. Now you know why dad knew you had started dating when he asked, and you told him no. He could smell the lie on your lips.” The smile faded, replaced by a grim line as he glanced around the room. “OK, listen up. I was going to explain everything at the next meeting, but we don’t have the time now. This Lyulf doesn’t seem to be messing around. He wants some artefact, but I haven’t got a clue what it is. Luna’s smart, she’ll help me with that unless any of you know what that creature is after. In the meantime, no one is safe. Sally, you might want to leave town, but Brad needs to stay. Lyulf is only interested in the pack at this time so you’ll be safe if you go.”
Sally made a noise of protest but before Michael could open his mouth, her husband spoke. “You can stay with your sister in Florida. No arguments, woman. You’re going and that’s that.” Sally’s words died on her tongue.
Luna scrunched her face up at the demanding tone in Brad’s voice, but Michael tugged on her arm and gave her a small smile. “It’s OK, he’s just looking out for her. Werewolves are fiercely protective of the ones we love.”
Doesn’t mean he should talk to her like that, Luna thought. He’d better apologise when they get home.
Brad turned back to his alpha. “What about Mary?”
“She’s still in wolf form at her house,” Chase said. He reached for his cup and took a swallow. “I was there when Luna rang so I couldn’t take her with me. Someone will need to collect her before the cops show up. We’ll have to bury her somewhere on the property.”
“What about all the blood?” Luna asked, confused.
Chase shook his head. “Her house is completely tiled. We’ll bleach it enough that it destroys any of her DNA.” When Chase saw her confused look, he explained. “Ours is different to that of regular humans and it’s important that no one gets their hands on it. We’d be locked away for scientific experiments forever if they did. One of the pack works at the local hospital. He destroys anything we need him to.”
Things started to make sense. “Like Dad’s blood tests,” she whispered, recalling the sheriff’s words.
“Exactly,” Chase said. “After the crash, the first thing we did was make sure George’s blood went missing. It didn’t matter about Sherrie’s as she was human, but your Dad’s tests would show abnormalities in them. If Briggs orders more, then we’ll just swap the bloods with someone else. No one will ever know.”
“No one will ever know,” Luna repeated, dumbfounded by the nonchalance in Chase’s tone.
How often had they done this before? This world her family belonged to seemed like something out of a horror book. Luna didn’t know what to say, let alone think. The notion of being thrust into a world inhabited by creatures such as werewolves and fae and forged bloodwork threatened to overwhelm her.
Michael had a lot of explaining to do once they were alone.
Fifteen minutes later, with plans to retrieve Mary from her house after dark and brought back to the house, Brad and Sally left with their faces stained with worry and grief. Luna couldn’t imagine how they must have felt right then, knowing their friend, sorry, pack mate, had been murdered and couldn’t go to the police.
Did werewolves have police? Was there a supernatural police force that dealt with vampires, shifters, and ghoulies? Somehow, she couldn’t picture it.
Only Michael, Chase, and Luna remained in the house. Michael got to his feet gingerly, waving Luna aside when she hovered close by. He made his way slowly to the kitchen. “Anyone want to tell me why there’s a fuck load of feathers in the hallway? Did you guys have a pillow fight and not invite me?”
“While you were sleeping, a flock of deranged birds attacked us. Damn things scratched the hell out of us. There’s a pile of the bastards by your place, by the way. If you pluck them, you can save some money on new pillows,” Chase said, setting a cup of coffee in front of Michael as he sat at the table.
Luna hadn’t paid attention, but now she looked at him, Chase showed no signs of any of the wounds the birds had inflicted on him. Yet ugly thin red lines marred her arms.
Werewolves really do heal fast.
Michael stared at her, and a thick line formed between his blonde brows. “Give us a minute,” he told Chase, his eyes still on his sister standing in the doorway.
“You know I can still hear you both from anywhere in the house?” he said, amusement evident in his tone.
“Give her the illusion that you’re gone,” Michael sighed. “Alpha’s orders.”
Rolling his eyes, Chase strode past Luna, the heat from his skin warming her own. She noticed he took the vodka bottle with him.
With the sound of the door shutting, Michael lifted his cup. “Look, sis, I’m sorry -” The slap to his face cut off whatever words sat on his tongue. “You slapped me,” he said, disbelief coating his words, his hand cradling his cheek.
“That’s what you get for lying to me all these years,” she told him, her voice echoing the sting in her hand. “If Mum knew you and Dad were werewolves, why did you all keep it from me?”
Another sigh flowed from between his lips as the red imprint from her hand on his cheek faded before her eyes. “Mom and Dad had their reasons and it wasn’t for me to contradict them. It was for your own safety. Let’s leave it at that.”
“My own safety?” she spat. “What does that mean?”
Michael’s head snapped upwards and a fire burned in his eyes. “Luna,” he whispered, his tone tight and fierce. “There are things in this world
that you shouldn’t know about. Things that could hurt you. Mom and Dad thought they were doing the best thing for you by sending you away to school. You may not like it, but they were right. You were safe there. You’d wouldn’t be here. It’s a good thing you’re going back home in a few days.”
Her brother’s words rang in her head and she couldn’t stop them. For years, Luna had tried to find out why she’d been sent away when still so young. She told herself over and over that when she knew, she’d be satisfied. Now she knew.
And she was far from satisfied.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “Sally knows her husband is a werewolf,” she said finally.
“That’s different,” Michael explained, sipping his coffee. “They don’t have kids to worry about. Most werewolves only have one child because only the eldest has the ability to change. Jealousy is an ugly thing between siblings.”
Luna nodded and took a seat, suddenly weary. “Oui, Chase already told me. I just don’t understand why it was so unsafe that I was sent away. I hated being separated from you all.” Tears burned in her eyes and she lowered her head so he couldn’t see them. “I spent most of my life believing I wasn’t wanted. I’m twenty-seven and I’m still not wanted.”
The sound of a cup being slammed on the table snapped her gaze up. Michael’s face hardened under her eyes. “That’s right, you’re twenty-seven so it’s time to grow up, sis.” He leaned forward, his jaw clenched. “You were sent away, but it was for your own good. Not ours. It’s not safe here. It’s not easy growing up in a pack of werewolves, always hiding your true nature, making sure you don’t harm anyone. Even Chase stays away from human women because they’re too fragile. Be grateful you didn’t have to grow up in this world, dealing with supernatural politics because they’re that bloody and ruthless, and tends to lead to someone dying. Yeah, you may not have grown up with us here, but our parents loved you so much that they protected you the best way they knew how. Even if that meant tearing their hearts in two.” Michael snorted and leaned back. “It’s time to stop wallowing in the past and start living in the present while you still can.”
Sorrow crashed through her as her brother stood up and walked out the kitchen, his movements still stiff. A second later, the front door slammed behind him.
A tear rolled from the corner of her eye, burning as it flowed down her cheek.
Truth may have coloured her brother’s words, but that didn’t mean she had to like the picture they painted.
Not wanting to sit there and give into the pain, Luna forced herself to her feet. Her knee protested. She wanted to be with her parents, to feel them with her, but they were gone. The closest thing she could get was her father’s study. She headed down the hallway.
The door opened with a creak and rows of books welcomed her. If this was the nearest she could get to her parents, she’d take it.
She didn’t know how long she’d stood there looking at nothing when the front door opened, and light footsteps rang through the silence. Strong hands gripped her shoulders, the scent of pine filling her nostrils, instantly recognising it. She leaned her head back, resting it on Chase’s shoulder, taking comfort from the warmth of his body.
It seemed ironic to think that she hadn’t really cared for him twenty-four hours ago and now she found his presence soothing.
“You heard everything?” she whispered, closing her eyes and trying to keep the pain out of her tone.
“Yes, princess,” he replied, his voice feather-light. “One of the benefits of being what I am is excellent hearing. I can hear the birds in the trees a mile away. I can hear the rustle of a mouse scurrying across the driveway. I hear the sorrow in your voice.” His breath warmed her neck. “I can hear the sound of your heart racing with every word that comes out of my mouth. The sound of your blood racing in your veins is deafening.” He turned her around to face him, lowering his head so that their lips were mere millimetres from each other. “I can hear your desire for me. You may not speak a single word, but I can hear it. I hear more than what you think.”
Desire infused the air, seeping into her pores and into her blood. Her eyes focused on the fullness of Chase’s lips, and the urge to claim them for her own raced through her. Not that she had a chance to.
Chase’s mouth swooped down and took what she wanted to give.
Thirteen
Heat surrounded her. It scorched through her skin, past her blood and right into her soul. The world burned away, leaving nothing but delicious, all-consuming heat. All rationality melted away under Chase’s lips.
His eyes caressed her when they finally broke away, but the fire continued to blaze within. The temptation to step forward and kiss him once again, to allow the flames to consume her, threatened to consume all sense of control.
It would only take one step.
Chase’s grip on her shoulders never loosened, and the burn from his lips still lingered over hers. She reached up and placed a finger to them. How can one man be such a temptation? A simple touch, a single look, and she was ready to throw herself into the flames.
Chase cocked his head, as if listening for something she couldn’t hear. “Your phone is ringing,” he said, voice thick and husky with emotion. When she didn’t reply, he continued. “In your room.”
“Oh.” Reluctantly, Luna stepped out of his hold and slowly made her way out the door. Chase’s eyes burned in her back, but she forced herself not to glance over her shoulder. A low sigh circled on the air.
Her mind told her she’d done the right thing by leaving, but her traitorous body screamed for her to go back. Sucking in one deep breath after another, trying to gain some clarity, she climbed the stairs. The sound of her phone ringing sang through the air.
Werewolves had bloody good hearing, alright.
Not expecting anyone to call her, she’d simply left it on her nightstand before the meeting with the sheriff. Swiping right, she placed the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Ma petite, where have you been? I have been calling you all day.” Pierre’s thick accent flood her ears, sending a wave of relief through her.
She sagged onto the bed and sighed. “I’m sorry, Pierre, it’s been nothing but chaos all day. You wouldn’t believe the things that have happened.”
Sympathy laced his voice. “I’m sorry, my love. Did the meeting not go as well as you expected?”
An extremely unladylike snort escaped before she could suppress it. “The sheriff thinks Dad was drunk at the wheel and that’s why the crash occurred.” Exhaustion washed over her, and she sank into the pillows. “But Michael and I know that’s not true.”
“Oh? Can you really be sure? It happens, more times than you think. A few drinks can sometimes make a man more foolish than he appears. It only takes a moment of uncertainty, a quick glance from the road, to cause a devastating accident.”
Luna shook her head. “No. I think Mum and Dead were murdered.”
A long pause of silence filled her ears. “Why do you think your parents were murdered when the police believe it’s a case of drunk driving?”
“I can’t go into it at the moment, but I think there’s enough evidence to back us up, not that the police would believe us.” A tear travelled down the pale contours of Luna’s face and she couldn’t help but wonder when she’d simply run out of anymore. Hopefully soon. “Are you at work?”
A small sigh travelled down the line. “Non, I took the day off to help Adam and his wife prepare for their new collection at the gallery. It’s a shame you will miss it. The theme is mythological creatures.”
A small smile danced over Luna’s lips at the mention of Adam. She’d only met him a few times, his wife Sarah only once, but they possessed a genuine warmth to them that she couldn’t help but like. Adam and Pierre had been friends for years, although neither had said how long. The knowledge he possessed on art history was staggering, equal to his love of the subject. Pierre had finally convinced him to own his own gallery a few months a
go. Despite Adam’s light-hearted remarks, Luna could tell he was nervous.
A thought popped into Luna’s mind. “Pierre,” she said, a layer of hesitancy in her words. “Do you think you could do me a favour?”
“Name it, ma petite.”
“Could you ask Adam if he knows anything about a particular mythological creature?”
“Of course. What type?”
“I’m looking for information on the fae.” The words came out breathless, as if her breath wished to steal them for itself.
“The fae are from Ireland and parts of Britain,” he said. “They are creatures of nature. Most picture them as fairies, but they’re not the sweet, delicate creatures of art and poetry. The Tuatha de Dannan, the Fair Folk, a beautiful race matched only by their intelligence and ruthlessness. Fae are divided into two courts, the Seelie and Unseelie. The Seelie are beautiful, but the Unseelie are the stuff of nightmares. Although both are just as vicious as each other beneath the surface.” Pierre paused. “Why are you asking about the fae? Have you met one lately?”
Luna forced herself to laugh, to sound light-hearted. She couldn’t tell him the truth. “Yes, Pierre, there are fairies running around the Virginian countryside.” The laughter sounded false to her ears, but she carried on. Adam might know and if he didn’t, then no harm done. After all, no one would believe her if she told them about Lyulf. “Do you think you could ask Adam if he’s come across a particular fae in his research? It’s important.”
“Only if you tell me why,” he said. The tone of his voice suggested casual, but a few months working at the firm with him quickly said otherwise. He could get anyone to spill the beans with that tone.
But lying didn’t come naturally to Luna, and she struggled to come up with a reason why. “There’s a painting in my father’s study. It’s beautiful. On it is a tall man with long silvery-white hair wearing white robes and surrounded by wolves.”
House of Wolves (Silver Moon Series Book 1) Page 11