Midnight Touch

by L Ann

  Contents

  TITLE

  COPYRIGHT

  DEDICATION

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  EPILOGUE

  THE MIDNIGHT PACK SERIES

  FROM THE AUTHOR

  ALSO BY L. ANN

  MIDNIGHT TOUCH

  Copyright © 2018 by L. Ann.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations em- bodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by RebecaCovers

  First Edition: December 2018

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  This one is for my witches – without whom this book would never have been written!

  ONE YEAR AGO

  His skin itched. No, not his skin, beneath his skin – ants crawling, inching along his body, feeling like tiny pinpricks and making every nerve ending twitch. Shaun could hear the crowd chanting around him, excitement building for the ice hockey match about to start, growing louder and louder until became nothing but a roar in his ears.

  Sweat dripped down his forehead, into his eyes, and he lifted a hand to dash it away, only to pause when his own trembling fingers caught his attention. He stared at them in a fascinated yet horrified silence, wondering how he had reached this point. And then the ants began to march again, and his attention was diverted back to the way his skin felt.

  “We’re going for a run after the game, are you in? Shaun?... Shaun?”

  Shaun’s head snapped up, his troubled gaze landing on his twin brother. “A run?” he repeated, voice hoarse. “No fucking way. Too much risk of being seen.”

  “It’s a full moon. Can’t you feel it?” Deacon persisted. “We haven’t run together in months.”

  Feel it? Shaun almost laughed out loud. Of course, he could fucking feel it. That was the problem. Shifting with so many people around, with the possibility of a Hunter watching and waiting – ready to take him when he was at his most vulnerable? That wasn’t a chance he was willing to take any more. Not since…

  Shaun lurched to his feet, bile rising in his throat, and pushed past his brother.

  “I’ll be back in five minutes,” he threw over his shoulder, and shouldered his way through the crowd to one of the public restrooms.

  He lost track of how long he sat in the tiny cubicle, staring at the vial of purple liquid gripped tightly in his hand.

  Don’t take it, he told himself. Shift and go for a run with the pack.

  He shook his head. If he didn’t take it, he would shift. And he wasn’t sure he would be able to control his wolf. It had been three months since the last time he’d let his wolf run free, three months since he’d been caught by the Hunter, three months since he’d watched his pack-mate and closest friend tortured and forced to…

  No!

  No, he couldn’t take that risk. What if his wolf took control? What if there was another Hunter out there, waiting?

  He unscrewed the lid, tipped back his head and drained the liquid, immediately feeling the itch under his skin ease. His eyes closed, and he let loose a shuddering sigh.

  This would be the last time. He just needed to get through this full moon. Tomorrow would be a fresh start. He would go to his Alpha, confess his sins and face the consequences of staying silent for so long.

  ONE MONTH AGO

  “Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Deacon asked.

  Shaun grunted a response that could have been taken as a yes or no. His brother had asked him the same question at least thirty times in the past ten minutes. And the truth was he didn’t know what he wanted. He did, however, know what he needed. For the first time in over a year, he was able to admit that to himself.

  He continued to throw clothes into a suitcase, aware his brother wasn’t done with their conversation. Shaun knew Deacon didn’t understand his need to leave the Sanctuary and the Pack, and he couldn’t explain it. He just knew he had to get out of the city, away from the lights and the noise, and go somewhere quieter, closer to nature – as cliché as that sounded. He’d been clean a year, but he battled with the same craving every day, every time he ventured outside the walls he called home. He knew where every dealer was, and he needed to get away from the temptation.

  When their Alpha had raised the topic of relocation in anticipation of expanding the size of their pack and explained he had found a perfect place for them, Shaun had volunteered to be the first to go and explore their new home and start the process that would turn it into a new Sanctuary for their pack.

  “Shaun?”

  Shaun lifted his head. Had Deacon been talking the entire time he’d been lost in his own thoughts?

  “It’s the right thing to do,” he said, and silently counted to five. He reached three before Deacon began to talk again.

  “It’s in the middle of nowhere. I bet there’s no Internet, no cell service, probably no landlines…”

  A smile ghosted across Shaun’s lips. It sounded like his own personal slice of heaven, especially after the past year. But no one, his twin brother included, understood that. They loved the city life, they loved living in their large walled compound with access to everything they wanted nearby.

  Once upon a time, so had he.

  Until that fateful night just over a year ago when he’d started foaming at the mouth in the middle of a hockey match. That was the moment he realised he needed to be somewhere different. Somewhere that wasn’t Los Angeles.

  According to Deacon, he might as well be taking a one-way trip to Mars.

  “Dude, it’s not some post-apocalyptic landscape.” Shaun forced a chuckle. “There’s Internet and, think about it, how many places bother with a land-line these days, anyway?”

  “Yeah, but –”

  “Cormac agrees. You know that. He’s had the place checked out, so seriously, stop worrying,” he cut his brother off, mid-sentence. “I got this. You’re concerned, but I’ve got this under control.”

  “What about Hunters?”

  “They’ve got more interesting people to follow. I haven’t done anything worthy of their attention for at least a year, and I’m planning on keeping it that way.”

  Deacon smiled, but Shaun could sense his uncertainty and worry. With a sigh, he straightened and turned to give his brother his full attention.

  “Look, I fucked up. Everyone knows I fucked up. I got Dam –” he stuttered over the name of his pack-mate, cleared his throat and began again. “Damien died because I fucked up. I need to do this, Deke. I know you’re worried, but it’s going to be okay. I need you to understand that I’m going to be okay.” He dragged the suitcase off the bed and headed out of the bedroom, with Deacon close on his heels.

  “Are you driving yourself there?” Deacon changed tack.

  Shaun resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The constant questioning of every move he made was one of the reasons he was leaving.

  “Well,” he drawled slowly. “I was thinkin
g maybe I’d strap on some wings and fly there, but then I figured it’d be easier to drive since I’m taking luggage with me.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He did, sadly. He meant if Shaun was alone, there would be nothing to stop him succumbing to temptation, to take a detour and meet up with a dealer before leaving the city. It wasn’t in Shaun’s game plan, but no matter how many times he claimed to be clean, he was aware it was going to take time for anyone to believe it.

  Still, he couldn’t let it go without comment.

  “I’m not going to go hunting for Belladonna. I haven’t even touched the stuff in a year. I’m going to drive from here to there – no passing go, no collecting two hundred dollars.” He padded down the stairs and moved toward the door.

  “What are you going to do when you get there?”

  Shaun stopped, his hand resting on the door handle, and slowly turned his head to flash a wolfish grin at his brother.

  “We’ve bought thirty acres of forest. What do you think I’m going to do?” Yellow flared around the irises of his green eyes. “I’m going to stretch my legs and go for a long-overdue run.”

  He pushed open the door, loped down the steps to where his car waited. Throwing the suitcase into the backseat with the rest of his luggage, he swung into the driver’s seat. With a final wave at his brother, he drove out of the compound.

  Cassie was less than a mile away from The Lodge when it finally dawned on her what a stupid decision it had been. When she first ran out of the apartment she shared with Rebekah and had dashed down Main Street to the town limits, her only thought had been to get as far away from her roommate and Sam as she could.

  The Lodge, five miles outside of town, was a four-bedroomed house sitting on the edge of a privately owned forest. Her parents had bought it when they first got married, twenty-six years ago, and had raised both Cassie and her sister within its welcoming walls. Even after leaving home to move into town, it remained the place she ran to when she was troubled or upset. Her sister called it her ‘safe space’. And, after walking into her apartment to find Sam, her boyfriend of two years, bare-ass naked between Rebekah’s legs, her only thought had been to run.

  So that’s what she did.

  Legs aching and eyes burning with unshed tears, she slowed her pace as the drive leading to The Lodge came into view. And, of course, that was when she remembered.

  The Lodge no longer belonged to her family. Her mom had sold it a few months earlier, just after her dad died, and bought herself a new condo in the ‘nicer’ part of town. She had told Cassie and her sister that she could no longer bear to live there without her husband.

  Too many memories and a silent house was far too upsetting, she had claimed. Especially since Cassie and her sister no longer lived there.

  With the remaining money, she had treated herself to a six-month luxury cruise, waved to her two daughters and not looked back.

  Cassie sniffed and mentally shrugged away memories of the many arguments she had had with her mother over the sale of their family home and finished the walk up the drive to the front door. Now she was thinking about it, she remembered her mother saying she had sold it to someone from out of town, who had also bought the forestland behind and surrounding the house. She reached out to turn the handle, only to find it was locked and whispered a curse beneath her breath.

  Of course it was locked! Why wouldn’t it be?

  The house was empty. All the keys had been sent to the new owner. Cassie heaved a sigh and turned to begin the long walk back into town, then stopped. Not every key had been returned. There was one only she and her father had known about. That should still be right where her father had left it.

  Cassie made her way over to the small rockery to the left of the decked porch – she remembered the weekend she had spent with her father building it when she was eight, carefully selecting each rock and giving long and considered thought to the placement to each one. She crouched down and traced her fingers over the stones, counted up four rows, then tipped up the purple-coloured stone on the fifth level to display a rust-coloured key nestled against the tufts of grass and dirt.

  Our little secret, Cassie-bear, her dad had whispered to her and hugged her close.

  Cassie scooped up the key, hurried back to the door and slipped the key into the lock. A wave of grief washed over her as she pushed the door open and entered. Everything in the hallway was just as it had been the last time she’d been home. The day after her dad’s funeral – she shied away from that memory and let her eyes close, breathing heavily around the lump in her throat.

  Then she heard it …

  The shower was running …

  Rational thought fled, and instinct took over. Cassie charged up the stairs to her parents’ bedroom, not even considering what hearing the shower really meant.

  For one wild moment, as the shower cut off, she imagined her father walking out of the en suite bathroom. She wanted the last four months to have simply been a terrible nightmare and, with that sole thought in her head, she flew through the open door. With her heart hammering painfully in her chest, her eyes sought out the one person she was desperate to see again, and her jaw dropped.

  Coming out of the en suite was a man – but that was where the similarity to her father ended. Tattoos covered both his arms down to his knuckles and over the right side of his torso – swirling lines and patterns, glorious shades of red, gold and black His skin was golden and toned beneath the colours, making them stand out boldly, and the artist in Cassie rose to the surface. She took a step forward, unthinking, and stretched out a hand to touch the bold lines, to commit them to memory so she could draw them at her leisure later.

  A guttural curse snapped Cassie out of her daze seconds before her palm made contact. She felt her wrist caught in a vice-like grip and the breath left her body as she was slammed up against the wall behind her. Her eyes jerked up to meet emerald-green ones blazing with anger.

  “How the fuck did you get in here?” he snarled.

  The venom in his voice froze the response on her lips, and she dropped her gaze instinctively, her eyes locking onto the closeness of the tattoos across his shoulders where he pinned her in place with his own body. Her attention was caught, once again, by the patterns as they twisted from his shoulder down across his chest and ribs. From there they snaked over his right hip. He shifted, and she felt something hard press against her thigh … and it was then she realised he was completely naked.

  A choked gasp escaped her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, shrinking back against the wall to try and put some space between her body and the part of him that suggested anger wasn’t the only emotion he was feeling at her intrusion.

  “Oh my God, oh my God,” she babbled. “I’m so sorry!” She tugged at the wrist he held, then squeaked in surprise when he released it, but only long enough to grasp her hips and flip her around to face the wall. She felt his body press up against hers, briefly, his obvious erection nestling between the cheeks of her bottom and the breath caught in her throat.

  “Stay there.” His warm breath tickled her ear and then the heat of his body was gone.

  “I’m sorry,” she croaked out. “I … I didn’t know anyone was here.” Unwilling to turn her head to see what he was doing, she listened to the creak of floorboards as he moved around, trying to figure out where he was.

  “Please be getting dressed. Please don’t be getting ready to kill me,” she whispered to herself.

  “What are you muttering about over there?” His voice had lost the hard, angry edge, leaving it rich and husky – reminding her of good whiskey and chocolate.

  “N-nothing.” Cassie swallowed.

  There was a clink of metal and she tensed, waiting to be handcuffed or worse.

  “Sure about that?” His slow drawl sounded amused.

  Another floorboard creaked, and Cassie was sure she could feel him standing close behind him, feel the heat from his body, and she couldn’t stop a shiver
.

  “You can turn around now.”

  Cassie hesitated, then turned slowly to find him standing in the centre of the room, a good three feet away. His arms were folded across his chest and his head was tilted to one side, watching her. He had pulled on a pair of black jeans which hung low on his hips, and his chest and feet were still bare. A thick chain belt hung in the jean loops – the noise she must have heard, and Cassie couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief.

  His eyebrow cocked up at the sound, but he said nothing.

  “My parents used to own this house,” she offered into the charged silence. “I didn’t think anyone would be here.”

  One side of his mouth kicked up into a smile that screamed ‘of course they did’, and Cassie frowned.

  “It’s the truth!” she blurted defensively.

  He shrugged. “I didn’t hear a car. How did you get here?”

  Cassie laughed nervously, a sound which quickly turned into a sob and she swallowed it down, taking a breath before replying.

  “I ran … mostly.”

  “You ran?” he repeated, his eyebrow hiking again. “From the town?”

  Cassie nodded and tried not to squirm as his eyes slowly travelled over her. His gaze was sharp, intense, taking in everything from the blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, the cream blouse and beige slacks she wore for work and paused, eyes narrowing, on the flat shoes that were not designed for walking in the woods. His eyes changed direction and slid back up her legs.

  Cassie shifted uncomfortably, almost feeling the path his eyes took, her skin reacting to the imagined caress, heating under his gaze. Her breath was coming in short shaky breaths by the time he finished his slow perusal.

  “You have no bag, no coat. You’re not wearing running shoes. I feel like there’s a story here, but damned if I can figure it out,” he said softly, almost like he was talking to himself. “You look thirsty after your … run.” He drew the word out, almost savouring it. “Would you like something to drink?”