Dark Moon

by Rebecca York

  He leaned over to press his cheek to hers and spoke in a barely audible voice. “He must have some idea about your background.”

  “How?”

  “No idea. But we’ll get out of this.”

  “How?”

  An plan was forming in his mind. A desperate idea he wouldn’t consider under any other circumstances.

  “Emma, look at me.” He ached to take her in his arms, but his hands were secured behind his back. Pulling away, he saw tears glistening in her eyes.

  There was something he had to tell her. Something important.

  “I love you. I couldn’t admit that—even to myself. Maybe I was trying to run away from it last night, but I’ve known it was true since we first made love.”

  “Oh Cole. I knew it too. I love you. So much.”

  He swallowed hard. “No way am I going to let them torture you.”

  “I don’t think you can stop them.”

  Ignoring the comment he continued, “There’s something you need to know.”

  “What?”

  He looked up again, scanning the room and shook his head. “You’re going to have to trust me.”

  “I do.”

  “You may not. In a while. But . . .” He moved so that his mouth was against her ear. “There’s only one way we’re going to get out of here.”

  “Okay,” she mouthed.

  He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking that this all depended on split-second timing. Otherwise, he was going to dislocate his shoulders.

  He wished he could turn off the lights. He wished they’d put him in a separate cell so she wouldn’t see him transform for the first time like this. But he had to work with what he had.

  He spoke in a low voice, trying to warn her without giving anything away to the men who were listening. “Remember outside the Temptation Club, we split up. And you saw a dog mauling the guy who came after us?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you think it might be a wolf?”

  “I . . . yes.”

  He gave a sharp laugh. “And then last night when I was chanting in my sleep. Those are clues.”

  “To what?”

  “Clues you’re going to need in a few minutes.”

  She stared at him, and he knew she was wondering if he had come unhinged. Maybe from his ordeal the night before.

  “Cole?”

  “It’s going to work out okay,” he said, hoping he wasn’t lying through his pointed teeth.

  When she started to speak again, he shook his head. “Time’s almost up. I have to listen for them coming back.”

  She nodded.

  He gave her a fierce look. “You’d better get up and stand against the wall. As far as you can get from me.”

  When she didn’t move, he prodded. “Go.”

  Awkwardly, she pushed herself up and moved against the wall, staring at him.

  His stomach clenched. He was planning to terrify the men who came to get them. And it wouldn’t be much better for Emma. For all she knew, he might be planning to eat her alive.

  But he couldn’t worry about such details now. Straining his ears, he listened. At first, there was nothing to hear besides the sound of his own harsh breathing—and hers. And he wondered if Del Conte had been lying about his intentions. Finally Cole detected footsteps coming back. Two pairs. Good. He could take care of two men.

  “They’re coming. Get ready.”

  “For what?”

  “To stay out of the way.”

  In a low voice he began to chant the ancient words that had transformed the men of his family back into the mists of time.

  “Taranis, Epona, Cerridwen,” he intoned, then repeated the same phrase and went on to another.

  “Ga. Feart. Cleas. Duais. Aithriocht. Go gcumhdai is dtreorai na deithe thu.”

  Those were the words she’d heard him speak last night.

  “Cole?” across the room, Emma’s voice was high and strained.

  His only option was to ignore her and keep chanting. If he didn’t do this right, both of them would be in worse shape than they were now.

  He focused on the chant and the change that it brought to his body.

  The first few times he’d done it as a teenager had been a nightmare of torture and terror. But once he’d understood what to expect, he’d learned to ride above the physical sensations of bones crunching, muscles jerking, cells transforming from one shape to another.

  Thick gray hair formed along his flanks, covering his body in a silver-tipped pelt. The color—the very structure—of his eyes changed as he waited for the exact right moment and pulled his paws from the cuffs that held them, freeing himself.

  With a growl of satisfaction, he dropped to all fours. No longer a man but an animal far more suited to the forest than this cell.

  He heard Emma scream. He heard the door open, and he leaped at the men who were expecting a couple of naked, cringing captives.

  Surprise was on his side. Within seconds, he ripped out the throat of the first guard, then took down the next one, tearing off his gun hand. As blood spurted, he said the chant in his head, changing back to his human form.

  He had been a wolf for less than a minute, and changing back so quickly made his head spin and his stomach heave. Unlike last night, he kept from throwing up.

  Naked, blood dripping from his mouth, he looked back at Emma who stared at him in shock and disbelief.

  “I couldn’t tell you,” he gasped out. “Not here. It had to be a surprise—for them.”

  Fumbling in the guard’s pocket, he pulled out the key and held it up.

  “I’ve got to get the cuffs off you.” He hurried toward her, watching her try to back away along the wall.

  “Cole?”

  “Yeah,” he answered. “Cole Marshall. The same guy who made love to you. The guy who loves you. Only with a few extra attributes that I don’t talk about so much.”

  She only stared at him.

  “We have to get out of here. Before we’re back up shit creek in a wire canoe. Turn around.”

  She turned, and he unlocked the cuffs, feeling her flinch.

  “What are you?” she asked in a quavering voice.

  He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, stroke her, kiss her. He wanted to explain everything to her and hope to hell she didn’t walk away, but there was no time for anything personal now. “Your mate.”

  “What?”

  “We can’t talk about it now!”

  “We have to.”

  “If we get out of here alive.”

  oOo

  In his plush office, Bruno Del Conte stared at the blank bank of monitors. There had been a flicker of something. Then the screen had gone to black.

  “What the fuck happened?” he asked as his security chief, Ben Walker, charged into the room.

  “The whole system is down.”

  “I repeat. What the fuck happened?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “You have someone working on it?”

  “Yes.” Ben cleared his throat. “Something happened in the brig, just before the failure.”

  “What?”

  “The picture was out of focus.”

  Del Conte picked up the phone on his desk and punched in a code.

  “The men I sent down there aren’t answering. Take a squad to the brig with you. I want Morgan and Ray secured.” He thought of other problems. “And make sure all the guests are in their cabins. Tell them . . .” He stopped, wondering what the hell he was going to say.

  “The P.A. system isn’t working, either.”

  “Then use your men to inform everyone. Tell them there’s an emergency, and we want to make sure nobody gets hurt. But make Morgan and Ray a priority.”

  “Do you want them alive?”

  “I wanted to question them, but at this point, I don’t give a shit what happens to them.”

  oOo

  “We have to get out of the brig before Del Conte captures us again. More men are
probably on the way down here now,” Cole bit out.

  As he spoke, he charged into the anteroom and pulled an Uzi off the wall. After checking the clip, he raked bullets across the computer control panel, the smell of burning electrical wiring mixing with the smell of the powder.

  “Hopefully, that will knock out the monitors on the ship,” he called over his shoulder, then began opening lockers. In the second one he found a guard’s uniform. The pants fit him reasonably well, and he pulled them on.

  When he turned, Emma had taken an Uzi off the rack.

  Her face was grim as she bit out, “Just before they captured us, you said we had to talk. Was that wolf stuff what you had in mind?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You could have told me before you slept with me.”

  “Oh sure.”

  He wanted to make her remember what they meant to each other. But there was no time for a personal discussion. Instead, he kept opening doors. The third locker over had another uniform. “Want some pants?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She put down the gun long enough to pull on the trousers and roll up the cuffs.

  When he heard running feet in the hall, he moved to the side of the door. As a guard rushed in, he bashed the guy over the head with the Uzi.

  “Do we have a plan?” Emma asked.

  “Get to our main mission,” he said, hoping that Del Conte didn’t have a clue what that was. They’d invaded his ship, but for all he knew, they could be federal agents trying to stop the slave traffic on the Windward.

  He stepped to the door and opened it. The corridor was clear.

  “Come on.”

  They’d gotten only about fifty feet from the brig when he heard men running.

  He swore under his breath and started opening doors along the corridor. Most were locked, but one was open, and he was about to press Emma inside when four men came around the corner. The one in back was Ben Walker, the security chief.

  The men in front of him raised their guns.

  Before any of them got off a shot, Walker began to fire, cutting them down from behind in a move that had Cole’s jaw gaping open.

  As the men fell, Walker dropped his gun and raised his hands. “Don’t shoot. I’m on your side.”

  “What the hell?”

  “Long story. Do you remember the interrogation last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought so—from the questions Emma asked you.”

  Cole’s voice turned hard. “You were listening.”

  “We don’t have much time. When I hit you last night, it was to wake you up.”

  Cole thought about that. “Yeah. It seemed like the wrong move.”

  “I take it you want to get out of here.”

  “Why are you helping us?” he asked.

  “My sister disappeared into this hellhole. I came here to get her back and found out she was dead.”

  “And now you’re security chief.”

  “I got here by applying for the job. I had the qualifications.”

  Cole started to ask another question, but Walker shook his head.

  “Later. Right now, we’ve got to get off the ship.”

  “Not without Karen Hopewell, the girl in the cage in the Tropical Lounge.”

  “The rich kid whose father has a beef with Del Conte?”

  “Yes.”

  “Getting to her complicates things.”

  “We’re here to rescue her from this hellhole, as you put it. And we’re not leaving without her,” Emma said.

  “Okay. It’s your funeral.” He gave Cole a speculative look. “Are you going to tell me what I saw in the brig?”

  “Maybe later.”

  “Did I see . . . a wolf?”

  Cole didn’t bother denying it.

  “I made sure it didn’t show up on the evening news.”

  “Appreciate that,” Cole acknowledged.

  “And the bloodstain in the cabin? That was your work, too.”

  “Uh huh.”

  They were already on their way, bypassing the elevator and heading for the stairs. When they reached Deck Five, Walker motioned them back.

  “Give me your weapons.”

  “Like hell,” Cole answered.

  “Think about it. If I look like I’ve captured you, nobody’s going to know the difference, until it’s too late.”

  Cole looked at Emma, and she nodded. Again, he didn’t like it, but he couldn’t see a better alternative.

  Walker slung the other two weapons over his shoulder and the three of them stepped out of the stairway, then hurried toward the Tropical Lounge.

  The place had been full of men and women having a good time. Now it was deserted.

  Completely.

  The cage was empty.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Christ. Now what?” Cole turned to Walker

  “I assume she’s in a more secure location.”

  “You know where?”

  “I hope so.”

  He was leading them around the cage and toward another exit when the door they’d come through burst open and more armed men charged in.

  Cole acted instinctively, stepping in front of Emma, grabbing one of the Uzis from Walker’s shoulder and starting to fire.

  Two of the men went down. A third took cover behind the bar.

  Emma pushed forward, grabbed the other weapon and dodged back behind a large planter.

  Walker and Cole joined her.

  When Cole heard the man behind the bar using a walkie-talkie to call for backup, he swore.

  “How long will it take reinforcements to get here?” he asked the security chief.

  “A few minutes. Depending on where they’re located—and how busy they are. I took down the PA system, too. Which means some of them are busy getting the guests back to their rooms. And the rebels may be taking advantage of the surveillance system failure.”

  “The rebels?” Emma asked.

  “Slaves and crew members with the guts to rebel against Del Conte.”

  Cole nodded, then whispered, “I’m going to circle around in back of the guy.”

  Emma grabbed his arm. “Too dangerous!”

  “You’ve got a better idea?”

  Emma took a breath to steady herself. “Let me catch his attention. I’ll tell him the two of you have left the room, and I don’t want to get shot. He won’t necessarily believe it, but he’ll listen to me, and it will give you time to get into a better position.”

  Cole hated her putting herself in danger. The guard could shoot first and ask questions later, but it sounded like their best chance to get the drop on the guy.

  “Stay down,”

  “I will.”

  oOo

  Emma looked around, found a cloth napkin lying on the deck and attached it to a wooden stick that still held a deflated balloon dangling from one end. She pulled off the shrunken blue piece of rubber and thrust the white flag carefully into the air. Immediately bullets shredded the fabric.

  “Don’t,” she called out. “I’m alone and scared.”

  “Alone?”

  “The two guys ran off.”

  The guard made a scoffing sound. “Like I believe that. Show yourself.”

  “So you can shoot me?”

  As she spoke, she watched both Cole and Walker snaking across the floor, moving on elbows and stomachs, heading for the back of the bar.

  “Help me out. Where is everyone?” she called, only half her mind focused on the conversation as she saw Cole exposed to the shooter for a few seconds. When he made it to cover again, she let out the breath she’d been holding.

  Please, God, don’t let anything happen to him, she prayed.

  In the brig, he had scared the shit out of her by changing into a wolf. She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes. Or would she?

  She’d been attracted to Cole since the moment they’d met, and she knew the feeling was mutual, yet at the same time she’d known there was somet
hing different about him. And known that he was fighting his attraction to her. Now he said she was his mate.

  Like hell. Unless she wanted to be.

  “You think I’m going to trust you?” the man behind the bar shouted, and she realized how dangerous it was to let her mind wander when they were under attack.

  “I could say the same thing. You work for Del Conte,” she answered.

  “I’m just doing my job.”

  “You happy with the job?”

  “The pay is good.”

  “But the assignments are crap, right?”

  Before he could answer, she heard a muffled cry. Since her view was blocked, and she couldn’t be sure what was going on, her heart leaped into her throat.

  She ached to dash to Cole’s aid. That was too dangerous, but she couldn’t even shout to him, not without giving something away. With no other choice, she sat where she was with her bottom lip between her teeth, praying that the plan had worked.

  Finally, Cole called out. “All clear.”

  When he stood up, she breathed out a sigh of relief.

  “We’d better get out of here,” Ben advised.

  “With Karen,” Emma reminded him.

  “Hopefully.” They followed him across the room to another one of the doors that were hidden in the walls.

  Beyond was another hallway that led to an interior room. At one side were cages.

  Karen, still wearing the sheer white kimono, stood in one of the enclosures, her hands clasping the bars. When she saw Ben, she shrank back. “Please,” she gasped. “Don’t hurt me.”

  “We’re here to get you off the ship,” Emma answered.

  The girl’s gaze swung to her. “It is you!”

  “You know me?”

  “From school. Didn’t you go to the Carlton Academy?”

  “Yes. Did somebody ask you about me?”

  “Yes. A woman came in here late last night and showed me pictures of the two of you. She wanted to know if I’d seen you before.”

  “What did you say?”

  “That I saw you come through the Tropical Lounge.” She turned to Emma. “And that maybe you went to school with me. I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have mentioned that.”

  “It’s all right,” Emma answered automatically, thinking that Karen had unwittingly blown her cover. But that didn’t matter now. She continued, “We’re on the ship because your father hired us.”