“Not to me it isn’t!” he roared. The troubled blue of his eyes gave way to a brilliant amber. His wolf was coming out, and it wasn’t happy. “I’ll sacrifice every damned person in this world if it means you survive. I don’t care about anything but keeping you safe and alive. Nothing else matters. Not me, not him, not the whole fucking world. You. Only you. I can’t lose you now, not when everything else has been ripped from me.”
Luna reached out to him, but Michael stepped back, the heat of his eyes burning with his emotions. “Michael -”
He lifted a finger in her direction. “Don’t, Luna, just … don’t. I don’t ever want you to hear you say you’re going to kill yourself. If you do … just … don’t. Please.”
Closing her eyes, Luna nodded slowly. When she opened them, she twisted her head slightly to watch Chase. He remained perfectly calm despite the emotional outburst of his alpha, his eyes still firmly locked on Luna’s face. It was comforting in a way, knowing he was there. A rock in turbulent waters.
When she faced Michael once again, he had pulled on a mask worthy of Pierre. The wolf’s amber eyes had faded mostly, with only flickers of golden tones piercing through the cornflower blue of his human eyes. Picking up his discarded coffee cup, he sucked in a ragged breath before downing the last of the contents. “I need to arrange to bring Kevin home, or at least what’s left of him. If you want to try and think of ideas for a trap, then do it. There’s not a lot of time left.” Slamming the cup down on the counter, Michael strode past them but stopped as he reached the doorway. “Oh, before I forgot. Frenchie rang earlier. Said he’s picking you up at seven and to dress up.”
This time Chase reacted. The air filled with a snarl resonating from her side where the werewolf stood. “Down, boy,” she admonished him. “When did he call?”
“About an hour before Mike did. Enjoy yourself while you can. Think it’ll be the last time you have any fun before the Crescent Moon pack arrives. Keep your weapon on you at all times. Chase will follow you. No arguments.” Michael walked out, his shoulders sagging even further than previously.
At a loss for what to say after watching her brother head for their father’s office – she still couldn’t get used to it being their office even after all this time – Luna inhaled, remaining silent, remaining still.
“So … hot date for you tonight then, huh?” Chase’s voice was low, flat, a mask for whatever emotions were coursing throughout his body.
She tried not to look at him but failed. Unable to read his eyes or his body language, Luna shrugged her shoulders and looked him in his eye. “Guess so,” and walked out without saying anything else, but feeling his eyes burning into her back with every step.
A few hours later, Luna breathed in the rich scents of Italian cuisine. Hearty stews, pasta, thick tomato sauces with the sizzling aromas of beef and sausage filled her nose. The one thing she missed about Europe was the cooking. Yes, America may have been her homeland, but European cuisine was just so much more flavourful. Everything here was either full of sugar or fat. A far cry from the food she had grown up with.
Westfield only had a few restaurants, and the Italian one was by far the best. The pasta was always fresh, and the meat cooked to perfection. Picking up her glass, she swirled the red wine around, the lights from overhead causing it to resemble liquid rubies.
“Are you going to drink your wine or just admire it, my love?”
Luna glanced upwards, a smile blossoming on her face at the teasing tone to Pierre’s words. As usual, when they were together they reverted to French. “Good wine should always be admired. You taught me that,” she told him.
“But it is the drinker whom I would rather sit and admire. She’s much more exquisite than the mere wine she holds in her hand.” A mischievous grin spread across his mouth, his brilliant blue eyes sparkling in the light. A flurry of sensations erupted from her stomach, spreading out until it reached her toes.
Cocking her head to one side and ignoring the blush that had spread across her face, Luna examined him. “Are you sure you’re not part incubus, Pierre?”
Surprised, he gave a quick snort of laughter and shook his head. “No, why?”
“Because you have this way about you that can make a woman go weak in the knees with the things you say,” she told him in a breathless voice.
The grin expanded further. “Do I make your knees weak, my little one?”
Laughter pelted out of her. “You certainly made the women at the firm melt. Every time you came around the corner, every woman’s heartbeat started to race. I’m surprised that we didn’t get more fainting spells because of you.”
Pierre gazed at her, his eyebrows lifted. “More?”
“I shouldn’t tell you this in case your ego gets any bigger, but one of the temps fainted after you passed her. She used to call you Adonis.” Luna snorted at the fond memory.
“Is that so?” he asked, struggling to contain his laughter.
Luna took a sip of the wine, the flavours bursting on her tongue. Heaven. “Yes. You will forever be known as the Suited Adonis by all the secretaries.” Not that she could blame him. Even in his casual clothes, in this case, a powder blue cashmere sweater and brown cords, he could still hold his own against the gods. Hell, maybe he was part god. Stranger things had been known to happen. Especially recently.
“It’s nice to see you so relaxed, Luna. I’ve missed seeing you like this.” A gentle smile danced over his lips, his blue eyes softening as they met her own.
The words were simple, spoken so quietly, but they hit her hard. “So have I, to be honest. But with what has happened recently, it’s been hard to relax.”
A resigned sigh flew from her lips as the air changed dramatically around them. Reaching out across their almost empty table, Pierre grasped her hand in his. Her warm skin welcomed the coolness of his. His thumb skimmed the surface of her palm, causing warmth to blossom underneath his skin. “Talk to me, my little one. Tell me what’s going on in your head.”
Luna shook her head, not really knowing how to articulate the thoughts racing through her head. “You know how I saw Cassandra today, right? She says we’ve only got a few days before the alpha arrives. But I told Michael instead of waiting for them to show up on our territory, we should set up a trap.”
“What kind of trap?” Pierre asked, still tracing patterns across the palm of her hand.
Luna leaned forward, lowering her voice to a whisper. “What if we use those memory-fantasy orbs of yours and lure them somewhere away from the town and the house? We could send them straight into a death trap. Take them out before they ever reach the property. Do you think it is possible?”
Pierre remained silent for a moment as he contemplated her words. Finally, he spoke in hushed tones. “It’s certainly possible. They would need to be strong ones, especially if he’s bringing the entire pack with him. If we can close down one side of town, then we could lead them the other way.”
Nodding her head in agreement, Luna felt a surge of energy pump through her veins. “That’s what Chase and Michael said.”
“I’ve been scoping out your family’s property for months now. There’s a decent sized area that could be quite good for it, but we’d have to work hard and fast on it. I wonder where I could get …” His expression morphed into a frown.
Luna frowned. “Get what?”
Pierre shook his head, the lights from overhead causing his blonde hair to glisten like melting gold. “Nothing. Let me see what I can come up with. If it works, however, it will lack finesse.”
“Screw finesse, as long as it gets the job done I don’t care,” she spat out in harsh tones.
“My, my,” he remarked as his thumb skimmed over her knuckles. “I quite like this Boudicca vibe you’ve got going on.”
Snorting, Luna removed her hand and picked up her wine. After taking a long sip, she faced him, giving her former lover a cold wine-stained smile. “Boudicca will have nothing on me if this continues the way it
is.”
Pierre nodded, his head tilting to one side. “Good. Keep that attitude up.”
“Why, because it makes you all tingly inside?” she teased.
“That too, but I was thinking more along the lines of the scent of an unfamiliar werewolf outside the restaurant.”
Twelve
Resisting the urge to spit out the wine that was halfway down her throat, Luna quickly swallowed, ignoring the burning sensation and panic that followed. “What? They’re here? Cassandra said they wouldn’t arrive for a few more days.”
“Lower your voice, Luna, people are watching,” Pierre told her, sipping his wine, his face a mask of casualness. “Do not worry, I am here, and it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Of course it means something. I have werewolves after me, for Christ’s sake!” she hissed.
“It doesn’t mean it is one of them. There are still one or two of your brother’s pack that I have yet to meet. It could be one of them for all we know.”
“With my history, what you do think the chances are of that being the case, Pierre?” she asked, bitterness tinging her words.
Pierre looked at her from across the top of his glass, his eyes gleaming. “Ah, my little one, you’re too young to sound so jaded.”
“I’m twenty-seven, Pierre, but in the last year my parents have been killed, a fae has attacked my brother and me, and now a demented werewolf alpha is out to get me. I think a little jadedness is in order.” Gulping down a large mouthful of wine, Luna raised her eyes to meet Pierre’s once more. This time, she could feel the concern radiating from them. “What are we going to do?”
Setting down his glass, Pierre lifted a hand. A second later, the young curly-haired waitress who clearly had a crush on him, arrived at his side. “The bill, please, Mademoiselle,” he asked her, reverting to English.
Large brown eyes widened as she clutched a menu in her hands. “Did you not want to see the menu, Señor d’Aguesseau? Our specials are particularly good this evening.”
Pierre merely shook his head, giving her a knee-melting smile. “Another time. Something has come up.”
Sadness filled those dark eyes. The young girl, barely in her twenties, hurried away from the table. “I think you’ve just broken that poor girl’s heart,” Luna told him, trying to recapture the light-heartedness of just moments ago.
Pierre waved a hand in dismissal. “She’ll survive. I’m more concerned with keeping you safe.”
Dread filled the pit of her stomach. “So you are concerned about what’s out there?”
Without saying another word, he reached down for his wallet and handed several bills to the young waitress who had returned clutching their bill. He reached out with a hand. “Do not worry, Luna. You will always be safe with me.”
Wordlessly, Luna reached up to take his hand, her eyes never leaving his. But still the pit of her stomach continued to fill with trepidation as Pierre’s expression quickly reverted to that deadly neutral look, his lawyer mask as she called it so often.
Willing her heartbeat to slow down unsuccessfully, Luna picked up her coat and allowed Pierre to guide her out of the restaurant. The muted conversations of the other diners faded underneath the din of the blood rushing through her veins. Outside, the fluorescent lights of the restaurant and stores along the main road caused the fallen snow to resemble a kaleidoscope of colours. A chill permeated the air, causing Luna to shiver. Silently, Pierre released her hand to help her put her coat on, a gentlemanly gesture Luna had always adored about him.
Coat on, Pierre took her by the hand once more, leading her away from the restaurant. This was nothing unusual in itself, but Luna could feel his grip tightening around her fingers. The bottomless pit feeling resurfaced in her gut once again as Pierre hurried them down the road. The sense of urgency in his step was unmistakable.
“Pierre,” Luna whispered, her voice barely audible to her own ears.
Instead of answering, he ignored her, squeezing her hand tighter as he picked up the pace. Suddenly, the temperature dropped, and a blast of cold air hit her, sending her hair to mask her vision. Spluttering hair out of her mouth, Luna relied on Pierre’s guidance, manoeuvring her around patches of ice and piles of fresh snow. Hair now out of her eyes, she spied his rental car, the silver paintwork glistening in the shadows of the road just off the side of the park. A few fairy-lights still hung in the trees, giving it a somewhere lacklustre appearance compared to only a few days ago.
No one was around. Or at least that what it seemed.
But she knew all too well that shadows could hide more than what the light could ever reveal.
Once the car was within easy distance, Pierre hurried up. By now, they were almost jogging. Reaching into his pocket, a low beep sounded just a second before his hand reached for the handle of the car. “Quickly, get in,” he told her, ushering her inside, the car keys in his hand cutting into the delicate flesh of her palm.
Luna hurried as quickly as she could, the lump in the back of her throat swelling from the size of a grape to that of a tennis ball. Pierre propelled her forward. Her rear hadn’t even touched the seat when a blast of warm air hit her from one side.
Frightened birds scattered from the nearby trees, flying blindly into the sky. A grunt pierced the air, followed by a growl. Twisting her head, Luna made out a dark figure on the floor, pinning Pierre beneath him.
The werewolf.
He was here.
Luna watched as the dark figure, clothed in black, pulled back his arm before swiftly punching Pierre in his stomach. His clothes helped him to blend into the shadows; all she could make out was pale skin, almost as pale as Pierre’s before her former lover’s fist made contact with the side of his face.
With a grunt, the werewolf sprawled to the side, his weight slamming the car door shut. Instinctively, Luna leaned backwards, her body pressing into the gearstick. Through the window, the night-time shadows hid much of the fight, barely allowing her to recognise which fist belonged to whom.
Suddenly, she watched Pierre being thrown across the hood of the car, glints of his blonde hair piercing through the darkness.
A rap at the window forced her to turn back, her heart pounding. A pair of dark eyes gazed fiercely at her through the glass, as if sizing her up. A pale tongue flicked across the werewolf’s lips, a nasty scar at the right corner of his mouth giving him a sinister look. “Come out, come out, little girl.”
Swallowing down her fear, Luna found she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him no matter how much she wanted to. “Not by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin,” she whispered, the blood in her veins pumping so loud she could barely hear her words.
But he did. The scarred side of his mouth turned up into a half-grin, his eyes burning bright. A low growl echoed around her. As he reached for the handle, Luna automatically reached for the dagger sitting in its hilt at the small of her back.
Only she never got to it.
A blur of motion caught her attention. Pierre’s leg struck the werewolf’s side, producing a yelp as he crashed to the ground. “Luna, get out of here!” she heard Pierre shout before watching blood splatter across his face.
“I can’t leave you!” she cried out, shaking her head.
“Just get to your brother. Go. I’ll be fine,” he shouted, his fist swinging through the air, landing in his opponent’s stomach.
“But I don’t have the keys …” she murmured, tears blurring the corners of her vision. A loud growl boomed in her ears. Frantically, Luna began searching for another set of keys, her fingers trembling as they scurried across the dashboard, the glovebox, underneath. A glimmer caught from the corner of her eyes caught her attention.
The keys.
Pierre must have dropped them when he attacked. Wedged between the seat and the door, they sat, a beacon of hope in a turbulent ocean of chaos and death. Fishing them out, she manoeuvred herself into the driver’s seat. It took three goes before the damn thing would fit but as the engine roared
to life, adrenaline rushed through her.
“Go!” Without hesitation this time, Luna pressed down on the accelerator. Tires squealing, she yanked the wheel to the side, trying to get as much distance between her and the werewolf. In the rear-view mirror, she watched Pierre tackle him to the ground, preventing him from following her. Another glance saw Pierre’s fist burying itself in the werewolf’s throat.
Gasping for much-needed air, Luna attempted to focus on the road. The town’s main road soon disappeared, leaving nothing but shadows and dark trees looming before and behind her. “Chase, where the hell are you? I’m going to neuter you when I get hold of you!” she muttered, trying to force back the tears threatening to spill over so she could concentrate on the road.
Where was he? Michael had ordered him to stay close to them so why wasn’t he there when they were attacked? Shaking her head, Luna gasped as the headlights revealed a figure standing in the middle of the road.
The car skidded as she jerked the wheel to the right and her startled cries drowned out the hiss of the tires on the icy road. Tightening her grip on the steering wheel, she watched the world go past her in a blur of motion, her hair whipping across her face. Her cries ceased as the airbags knocked her backwards and sideways. The car continued to slide until it finally came to an abrupt stop. Dull moans filled her world, and it took her a minute to realise that they belonged to her.
Luna tried to move but found her body uncooperative. She was fleetingly aware of a coppery taste in her mouth. Raising a finger to her lips, she felt wetness coat the digit. As she glanced down, Luna soon became aware of what it was - blood. Pain ebbed throughout her body, her mind numb. Only blood filled her vision.
The sound of metal grinding and the whoosh of a cold breeze flowing past her caused Luna to turn her head. “Well, well, well. What do we have ‘ere? A lady like you shouldn’t be driving in weather like this.”
Breathing hard, Luna forced herself to focus. Pale green eyes, lighter than her own, broke through the darkness of the quiet road. A square jaw covered in thick stubble and a hooked nose came into view. Fleetingly, she thought it a rather handsome face in a bad-boy-turned-bad kind of way.
Temptation Of The Moon: A Silver Moon Novel Page 10