Crescent Moon

by Lori Handeland

  He’d lied to me somewhere along the line. Although I hadn’t asked if he was involved, nevertheless, wasn’t it good form to mention it? He definitely should have mentioned the child.

  Adam had made certain I was leaving, made clear he didn’t love me and never would. He probably figured I’d be gone long before it mattered that he had a son and a live-in woman. Maybe she didn’t care if he played around. But I did.

  A thought niggled at the edge of my mind. If I could just get my brain to function past the sight of that little boy’s smile and the sound of his voice shouting, “Daddy!” But I couldn’t. From the way I was hyperventilating and clutching my chest you’d think I’d just caught the love of my life in bed with another woman.

  I forced myself to my feet. I’d head back to the mansion, gather my things, and move in with Cassandra. Then I’d hire another guide, find the freaking loup-garou, put a leash around its neck, and deliver the beast to Frank. All without ever seeing Adam Ruelle again.

  I turned and ran right into him.

  He glanced from me to the window and back again. Neither one of us spoke. I lifted my chin and tried to walk away. He side-stepped, putting himself directly in front of me.

  “What are you doin’ here?” he asked.

  “Get bent.”

  “You followed me.”

  “Duh,” I muttered, which was so constructive but the best I could think of right now.

  “You shouldn’t have.”

  I was tempted to say “duh” again but managed to stop myself.

  He grabbed my arm and dragged me away from the mobile home, glancing over his shoulder as if afraid someone might see. I struggled against his hold, for all the good it did.

  “You have to go.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “I’ll come to the mansion tonight. I’ll explain.”

  “Don’t bother.” I pulled free.

  “You don’t understand, cher.”

  “Do not call me cher!” I shouted, and to my horror, my voice broke.

  He reached for me, and I stepped back so fast I tripped over my own feet. My eyes burned. I was going to cry, and I couldn’t let him see. I just couldn’t.

  “Diana, it's not what you think.”

  “Not your son?”

  His lips tightened and he didn’t answer.

  “That’s what I thought.” And suddenly I recalled his incredible lie.

  “You said...” I stared at him wide-eyed. “You said you couldn’t have children.” My fingers itched to touch my stomach, where even now his child might be growing. Why on earth had I ever trusted this man?

  “I can’t.” He rubbed his hand through his hair. “Not anymore.”

  “And I should believe you?”

  “Why would I want to get you pregnant? I don’t even want—” He broke off.

  I could fill in the end of that sentence. He didn’t even want me. Not forever. Not in any way that mattered. I’d deluded myself into thinking I was the type of woman who could have sex without strings, but I wasn’t. The instant I’d had sex, the strings were there. They might be invisible, but that didn’t make them any less real.

  I must have made a movement toward the road, as if I might take off, as if I had a prayer in hell of outrunning him, and his hand snaked out, his fingers encircling my wrist.

  “You weren’t supposed to see,” he said.

  “No shit.”

  “Diana.” He sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Not much. Not anymore.”

  His lips thinned again. He was angry.

  Well, join the club, my mind mocked. I was the injured party here. So why was he making me feel as if I’d done something wrong?

  “Who is she?” I whispered.

  The child I could forgive, but a wife... never.

  Adam’s eyes met mine, startled, a little confused, as if he had no idea who I was talking about, and I snapped. My free hand balled into a fist and I swung at his head.

  He ducked, quicker than spit, and I nearly fell when I missed him. My other arm twisted sharply, painfully, and I would have gone to my knees if he hadn’t grabbed me and hauled me against him. Despite everything, my body recognized his. We still fit together so right. How could everything have gone so wrong?

  “Daddy?”

  Oh, yeah. That.

  To his credit he didn’t shove me away. He released me slowly, almost gently, and stepped back, putting himself between me and his son, as if he could hide one from the other.

  “What are you doin’ out here?” Adam asked.

  The child didn’t answer, instead leaning to the side so he could see me. I was struck with the urge to cover my face, as if that would make me invisible.

  He grinned, exposing an adorable gap in his front teeth. If that hadn’t made my heart clutch, the sight of his bright blue eyes would have.

  “I’m Luc,” he said. “Luc Ruelle.”

  He didn’t have the Cajun twang of his father, but the South still lived in Luc’s voice.

  “Go inside,” Adam ordered.

  The kid ignored him. I had to admire that. Adam wasn’t exactly ignorable.

  “You gonna be my mom?”

  I choked.

  “Luc,” Adam growled.

  “Uh-oh.” Luc’s gaze shifted to his father, then back to me. “I’m in trouble.”

  He didn’t appear worried, and instead of leaving, he advanced. Adam stepped between us again, and I was tempted to shove him out of the way. Honestly, did he think I was going to gobble up the child like a... a goblin?

  “My real mama died. I got sitters. Lots of ’em.” He glanced at Adam. “Sadie says she’s quittin’.”

  Adam groaned as Luc gave a long-suffering sigh. “I know, another one bites the dust.”

  I laughed and Luc smiled again, even as Adam shot me a glare. How could he remain so sour with such a sweet, funny child to enjoy? And why was he treating Luc like a curse and not a blessing?

  My head tilted. Could Luc be . . . ?

  “Get back inside,” Adam repeated. “I have to take—” He broke off and scowled at me again—“her home.”

  “Who is her?” Luc asked, undaunted. “What’s your name?”

  “Diana.”

  “Deesse de la lune.”

  All urge to laugh fled. I heard again the whisper in the swamp, Adam’s murmur in my mind, Luc’s voice in the sun.

  “What does that mean?”

  Luc glanced at Adam, concern wrinkling his forehead. “She don’t know French?”

  “Not everyone does.”

  The child peered at me as if I’d just farted in church. Not to know French—what a cretin!

  “Goddess of the moon. Diana.”

  Interesting that a child knew all about the power of names.

  “Daddy likes the moon.”

  My gaze went to Adam, who stared at me with no expression. “Does he?”

  “Especially the smiley moon,” Luc continued. “Whenever there’s one of those in the sky, he’s gone all night.”

  Chapter 28

  “Luc!” The sitter burst out the front door, pausing when she saw the three of us nearby. “I’m sorry, Mr. Adam, he slipped away again.”

  Hurrying forward, she scooped Luc into her arms. “You’re like an eel, boy.”

  “Bye,” Luc said as she carried him back to the trailer. The child kept his curious gaze on me the entire way.

  “You don’t belong here,” Adam said.

  His words hurt, but I was determined not to show it. “I know.”

  “I’ll take you home.”

  “To Boston?”

  “Would you go?”

  “No.”

  “There isn’t a loup-garou, Diana. You’re wasting your time. If you stay, someone’s going to get hurt.”

  “People are dying. What’s killing them, Adam? You?”

  “What if I was?”

  I blinked. “I—uh—what?”

  “What if I was killing t
hem?”

  “You said there wasn’t a wolf.”

  “Exactly. So it must be a person.”

  “The police believe there's an animal killing people.”

  “Then it’s an animal, which means it isn’t me.”

  “Unless you’re the loup-garou.”

  “I’m not a wolf.”

  “Yet you disappear under every crescent moon.”

  “I don’t disappear. I stay at my shack.”

  “Why?”

  “Things happen under that moon.” He took a deep breath. “I mean things have happened. To me, in the army. I try not to remember, but—” He let the breath out and his shoulders slumped.

  I wanted to touch his hair, hold his hand, but I knew he wouldn’t let me.

  “Luc was wrong,” he said. “I don’t like the crescent moon; I despise it.”

  “What happened?”

  Instead of answering, he took my arm and half-led, half-dragged me to the ancient Chevy parked in the driveway. The thing appeared at least forty years old. A little restoration would do wonders, just like the mansion. Right now the car was a mess—rusted, blotchy, no true color to speak of. Adam opened the passenger door. “Get in,” he said, “or I will make you.”

  I glanced at the trailer. Luc waved from the window. I got in the car, wincing when a busted spring thumped me in the ass. The seat was badly torn, as if an animal had clawed it apart.

  The car was so old it didn’t have air-conditioning. In a near-synchronized movement, we rolled down the windows. The morning was already hot enough that the wind felt good in my hair.

  “I’m not gonna tell you what happened,” Adam murmured. “I can’t.”

  The “can’t” stopped me. I understood that special ops were a secret.

  “What happened to your wife?”

  His fingers tightened on the wheel. “She’s gone.”

  “How?”

  I imagined terrible things—things that had put the shadows in his eyes. Was this why he couldn’t love me? Death was something I understood.

  “Packed up her stuff, cleaned out our bank accounts, and ran.”

  “Luc said his mother was dead.”

  “She is to me. To him, too.” His gaze shifted to mine, then back to the road. “She isn’t coming back, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I’m worried about your sanity. Why would you tell your child his mother is dead when she—?”

  “Took off. Abandoned him. Left when he was not much more than a year old and never came back. She didn’t want him. She hates him almost as much as she hates—” His mouth snapped closed over the last word. But I could figure it out. His wife hated him. I doubted he’d tell me why.

  “You didn’t see her again?”

  “Nope.”

  “Didn’t hear from her?”

  “Zip.”

  “So you’re still married.”

  “Not in my mind.”

  “Terrific,” I muttered.

  “If I don’t know where she is, how can I send her the divorce papers?”

  He had a point. Still—

  “It was never a real marriage,” he insisted.

  “You got a license?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then it was real.”

  “I never loved her. She never loved me. We got married because...” He shrugged and I understood.

  “You couldn’t keep it in your pants. What a shock.” Silence settled over the interior of the car. But I was unable to remain quiet for long. “Why did you tell me you couldn’t have children?”

  “I can’t. Not anymore. After Luc I—” He fell silent, as if he could no longer find the words.

  I had no such trouble. “You were in an accident? Caught the mumps? What?”

  “I had a vasectomy.”

  My mouth fell open. I seemed to have that problem a lot lately. “Why?”

  “I don’t make the same mistake twice.”

  “What if you met someone? Wanted more children?”

  “I won’t.”

  My chest hurt, as if someone were pounding on it with a lead pipe, trying to break my heart.

  “You can’t know that,” I managed.

  “I will never marry again. Never have another child. It’s the way things are.”

  I never planned to marry again, either, knew with utter certainty I’d never love anyone the way I’d loved Simon. I hadn’t wanted a baby with him; I definitely didn’t want one with anyone else. So why did Adam’s words bother me so much?

  Because I smelled a lie in there somewhere; I just wasn’t sure where. Perhaps it was the lie of omission. He had another life, a family I didn’t even know about. And if he’d lied about that, he’d probably lied about something else.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Luc?”

  “My life in the swamp is different from my life with my son.”

  “And I’m part of your life in the swamp? How flattering.”

  “Diana, you don’t understand—”

  “I think I do. You don’t want your precious son being contaminated by the trampy woman you’re screwing.”

  His jaw tightened. “That isn’t what I said.”

  “You don’t have to.” I crossed my arms and stared out the window.

  “I’ll do anything to keep Luc from being hurt.”

  I shot him a glare. “You think I’d hurt him?”

  “Not on purpose. But—” He lifted his hand from the steering wheel, then lowered it. “He wants a mother. I can’t give him one.”

  “You could.”

  “You plan on stayin’, cher? You want a ready-made family? A little cabin in the swamp? Drive a car pool? Make bag lunches? Soccer games and Little League?”

  When I hesitated, he nodded. “That’s what I thought. So I keep him away. Why get his hopes up? He’s gonna have a hard enough life as it is.”

  “Why is his life going to be hard?”

  “That’s just the way life is.”

  “You know the future?”

  “Sometimes I think I do.”

  I stared at him as he stared out the windshield. “You say the strangest things.”

  “I don’t want you to tell anyone about him.”

  I spread my hands wide. “Who would I tell?”

  “No one knows he’s my son. I want to keep it that way. People around here, they think I’m nuts.”

  “I wonder why.”

  He ignored me. “Luc should have as normal of a life as possible.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?”

  “My life isn’t normal.”

  “It could be.”

  “I have responsibilities. Things I have to do—”

  A thought broke through my confusion. “Are you still in the army? Some super secret agent crap?”

  “No,” he said shortly.

  “What, exactly, do you do?”

  He didn’t bother to answer, which only made me more suspicious. But his next words hurt so much, I forgot all about that

  “I don’t want you to see Luc again.”

  “Fine.”

  I didn’t plan on seeing Adam again, either. Just because I didn’t want children didn’t mean I was going to take kindly to being told I wasn’t allowed near one. Adam was making me feel bad, and I already felt bad enough.

  He turned off the main road and slowed at the sight of a car parked in front of the mansion. Cassandra sat on the porch. As we pulled up she stood, hand raised to shield her eyes from the bright morning sunlight.

  I glanced at my watch. Seven forty-five. Damn. I’d told her I’d call by 7:00 a.m. and let her know I was okay. I was surprised Detective Sullivan wasn’t here, too.

  “Who is that?” Adam murmured.

  “Cassandra.”

  “She don’t look like a voodoo priestess.”

  “Exactly what does a voodoo priestess look like?”

  “Hell if I know.”

  Cassandra’s face flooded with relief when she saw me. Her gaze went
to Adam, and her eyebrows shot up. I’m sure he had that effect on all the women.

  I climbed out of the car. “I forgot to call.”

  “I can see why.”

  I turned to introduce Adam, and he drove away. I was left gaping at the taillights of his Chevy. Sure, I’d planned to blow him off, but he hadn’t even given me the chance.

  “Antisocial much?” Cassandra murmured.

  “You have no idea.”

  “What happened last night?”

  “He isn’t the loup-garou.”

  Cassandra's only reaction was a slight lifting of her dark eyebrows. “How do you know?”

  “I touched him with your knife, and he didn’t explode.”

  “Not into flames anyway.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She smirked. “You had sex.”

  “See that in your crystal ball?”

  “Didn’t have to. I can tell by the way you watched him go. Where were you?”

  I almost told her, then I remembered Adam’s admonition about Luc. Not that I’d promised anything. Not that I owed Adam anything. Not that Cassandra was any type of threat. Then again I had no idea whom I could trust and whom I couldn’t. I’d thought Adam and I had something—if not love, well, at least lust and extreme like.

  Discovering he had a son, that he was, technically, married, had shaken my confidence. Go figure. Having him say he didn’t want me near his child hurt. But I wasn’t going to make myself feel any better by telling Cassandra. I didn't think anything would make me feel better.

  “Diana? Where were you?”

  “His place.”

  “In the swamp.”

  I nodded. We had been, most of the time.

  I remembered something else about Luc—he wasn’t supposed to exist. I’d found no record of his birth. Had I missed it? Had it been lost, stolen, misplaced?

  The sound of vehicles turning off the main highway made both Cassandra and I glance up. A delivery truck and an unmarked police car rattled down the driveway.

  “Sullivan.” Cassandra didn’t sound pleased.

  “Ms. Malone.” Sullivan approached, nodded at me, then Cassandra. “Priestess.”

  He put a sarcastic twist on the title and Cassandra’s eyes narrowed.

  “You better watch it or she’ll turn you into a toad,” I said.

  “Wish I could.”

  Sullivan didn’t appear worried. “I’d be happy to call you Miss, Mrs., or Ms. if I knew your last name.”