My mind swirled at the speed of my rapid scour of the large property. I absorbed the non-standard height of the perimeter wall. Only after I travelled fields and hit a country lane did my mental curses start flying.
The second I saw the road sign, I knew I’d seen it before, had already heard the name of the village. My distraught condition had simply prevented the information from sinking in, and I hadn’t accepted it for what it was.
Little Hampton.
A quiet gasp breathed past my lips as I opened my eyes to the shadowed sofa cushions. I had it, knew where they were. At last, I could take action. I just had to figure out how without alerting the others.
I peered across at Ethan on the other sofa.
One knee drawn up, resting against the back padding, the other draped over the edge, his chest rose and fell with each of his breaths.
Best chance I’ll get.
My bare feet made no noise against the living room carpet or the kitchen tiles, but I cringed at the sound of the drawer as I slid it open. I reached in for the pad and pen, leaned on the countertop to write ‘GOT IT!’.
As I snuck back out, I paused at the living room door. The continued rhythm of Ethan’s breathing told me I hadn’t disturbed him.
Tiptoeing up the outside edge of each stair, I avoided the creaks I knew resided in some before I ducked into our bedroom.
Jess’s face had squidged against the pillow, stretching skin taut across her cheekbone. Waking her would lead to definite questions, which would lead to Nathan being suspicious the second he found us whispering in the dark, so I took a deep breath, willed myself patient, and lent my trust over to my sister to find us a way out of there.
Don’t let me down, Jess.
After curling the scrap of paper into a straw-sized tube and sliding it into the folds of her curved fingers, I headed back down to lie on the sofa and pretend nothing had happened.
• • •
The sideways, covert glance Jess sent me on entering the kitchen told me she’d gotten my message, and hiding my sigh of relief took some serious suppression.
If the men noticed our exchange, it didn’t show in their faces. Their bodies, however, held knotted tension—probably a mixed result of the lunar commitment their bodies would be convinced they were owed, and the eve of the blue moon being too close for comfort.
I’d have shared their agitation if I didn’t have plans of my own.
Mine soon kicked in, though, when afternoon arrived and Jess had made no noise about getting us out.
As I paced my well-worn path across the kitchen, an unnatural quiet spread throughout the house. I listened for the conversation in the living room where Jess had not long taken refreshments through to the men. Only the swish of my socked feet met my ears.
I halted, tilting my head. Creeping shuffles brushed across the living room carpet. As I leaned around the kitchen door frame, Jess appeared in the hall.
A smile spread her lips. “It’s time.” When I stared at her, she whispered, “Are we doing this or not?”
I crossed to her, peering around her into the living room. All three men lay spread-eagled in various poses, mouths agape, soft breaths whooshing in and out of their rising and falling chests.
Jess grinned. “They’ll wake in a few hours.”
“You …drugged them?”
“Seemed like the best solution.” She shrugged. “Not only can we leave without them standing in our way, but I’ve also got the house keys”—she held them up with a smile—“expertly retrieved from Nathan’s pocket. I take it the Toyota key on here is for his truck?”
My lips curved. “Genius. Where’s Beth?”
“She’s having a lie down, but I took her spiked drink up to her, so she’ll be under by now.”
My ears twitched for any sign of movement upstairs. When I found none, I said, “Let’s go.”
Using the ‘lifted’ keys, I unlocked the front door, peering over my shoulder at Jess. “Grab some duvets. The only way we’ll fit all the boys in is if we load them into the truck bed. They’ll need padding to protect them—especially if they’re all as naked as Sean.”
“Gotcha.” She nodded.
As she headed upstairs, I stepped outside and made my way round to the garage, where I checked the shelves for anything that could help in a little breaking and entering.
Spying a pair of bolt croppers, I smiled. “You’ll do nicely, thank you very much.” I unhooked them and reached up for a crow bar on the top level. “You, too.” If for no other purpose, it could come in handy for embedding in someone’s skull.
I headed back out to the truck to find two duvets piled in the bed. Lack of Jess told me she’d gone back in for more. I unlocked the doors, placed my tools in the footwell and folded the quilts onto the back seat.
“Please tell me you didn’t plan on leaving me behind, Jem.”
My body jerked. Blowing out a breath, I turned to Beth. “Why aren’t you asleep?”
“Because it takes a woman to recognise the deviousness and sly glances of fellow women. And because I’m not as gullible as the men.” Beth folded her arms. “I didn’t drink my coffee.”
Jess appeared through the front door with another duvet, stumbling a second as she came to us.
“She didn’t drink the coffee,” I told her.
Her mouth opened in an ‘Ah’.
“I’m coming with you,” Beth said.
“No,” I said.
“Yes, I am.”
“I’m sorry, Beth, but I can’t take you along.” When she opened her mouth, I held up my finger. “One—it will be too dangerous, and I won’t have time to watch your back as well as everything—”
“I can take care of myself. I have exactly the same protection as you.” She tugged at the necklace around her neck. “More so, with this.”
“Two—” I continued as though she hadn’t spoken, “Nate will slaughter me for going. If he wakes and finds I’ve taken you along, he’ll ensure I go through endless days of torture before the slaughtering takes place.”
Beth gave a deep chuckle. “You can’t truly believe you have more hope of talking your way out of trouble without me as your backup. You must realise I may be your only chance of Nathan going easy on you when this is over.”
Damn. Why did she have to make sense?
• • •
“So,” Beth said over my shoulder as I engaged first gear and pulled off, “I take it you know where they are.”
I caught her reflection in the rear-view mirror. “Little Hampton.”
“How far away is it?” Jess asked.
I braked at the gates. “I’ve no bloody idea.”
“Tell me you know where it is,” she said.
I shook my head, blowing out a breath of frustration. “I’ve never heard of it before.”
Jess gave a small snort. “Don’t you think it would be a good idea to figure out where to go before we head off, Jem?”
I shrugged. “I wanted to get away first. Then figure it out.”
“I have my mobile,” Beth said. “You drive, I’ll look it up.”
“Good thinking.” I pulled away again, steering right out of the gates, and stayed within the speed limit whilst I awaited instruction from Beth.
We’d travelled just over a mile when she tapped the back of my chair. “We’re going the wrong way.”
“You found it?” Jess asked her.
“If I’ve got the right place, it could take us a while to get there.”
I sought her eyes in the mirror. “How long?”
“If these directions are correct, it’s about three hours away.”
I held her gaze for a moment, had no idea what she saw in mine—probably panic. We’d already hit the wrong side of three
o’clock. With the early winter arrival of evening, the moon would have begun its ascent before we reached them.
I checked my wing mirrors and swung the truck into a three-point turn. As soon as we faced the right way, I hit the accelerator and pushed the pickup to maximum speed.
“Put your seat belts on,” I called over the roar of the engine.
29
The sky had progressed through most of its stages of darkening and, with no rain all day, its inky blue veneer remained clear, revealing stars that sparkled like diamonds.
“Only about twenty minutes now,” Beth said from the back.
I nodded, praying the Little Hampton she led us to turned out to be the correct one.
A forlorn air filled the cab on the final stretch of the journey. No one spoke or paid attention to each other within our shadowed enclosure. We only had eyes for what lay around us.
The longer we drove, the lighter the traffic became, the more rural the landscape. I guessed not many people headed to the countryside for New Year’s Eve.
I’d always believed when the clock struck midnight the rest of the year had already been mapped out based on the attitude you carried forth. What if I began the New Year without Sean? I could hardly bear to contemplate it.
A glance at the dashboard clock showed another fifteen minutes had passed right before I spotted the black and white rectangular road sign with its bold lettering: Little Hampton.
“Okay, this is it.” I drew the truck to the side of the road. “What now?”
They both turned to me as if they’d expected me to have a cast iron plan set in place—nothing quite like a bit of disappointment to spoil an already sombre mood.
“Where do we go from here?” I asked. “I mean, do we follow the road and see how far it runs before we’re no longer in Little Hampton, or …what if there are loads of side roads that need checking. Do we do those as we go? Or, do the main road first and head back to follow those afterward?”
Jess and Beth turned from me to each other.
“Main road first?” Jess said as Beth nodded.
The main road extended, winding and curving, for about seven miles until another sign alerted us of our approach to a new village. I swung the pickup to face back the way we’d come, and we searched for the first side road.
We’d located and counted them all on our initial run through—five to the left, which had switched to our right, and four on the other side.
A check along the first to the left revealed nothing. The second on the left gave the same result. The next one led off from the right and turned out to be much longer than the other two. Although we’d come across a couple of properties during our village perusal, none of them had the crazy-high wall I could still vividly picture from my dream.
Weaving along the third road, a tingle teased at my limbs. I put it down to my mounting anxiety as the evening looked more and more like a dead end.
Mentally pushing it aside, I pleaded with myself not to bring on an emotional change right then and peered harder through the windscreen.
Five minutes passed. The tingling grew stronger, demanding my attention. I rubbed at my arms, hoping to brush it away, but to no effect.
If Jess or Beth noticed my discomfort, they didn’t say.
I eased up on the accelerator, lifting a hand to my brow. A wipe of the taut skin there coated my fingers in perspiration.
What the—
My entire body snapped into spasm.
A loud gasp squirted phlegm from my mouth.
As my knees contracted, my elbows drew into my sides.
Jess grabbed the steering wheel.
Head flying back, my body arched against the seat.
The buck of my body flipped my head forward until my chin smacked the steering wheel, and a small grunt pushed through my gasps.
Beth gripped my shoulder. “Jem, what’s wrong?”
Agony shot through me, and a strange mewling cry filled the cabin. It took me moments to realise that sound came from me.
I tried to turn my head, but it refused to obey. I caught Jess’s eyes—wide and staring—and knew the first twist of deformation tugged at my flesh.
I couldn’t stay in the truck. Whether I wanted to or not, I would soon be wolf, and I needed to get out. Giving a low groan, I fumbled with my seat belt, but my flexed fingers couldn’t release the catch.
Beth reached over and unclasped me. Within seconds, she appeared at my window, hauled open the driver’s door and dragged me from my seat.
I doubled over on contact with the roadside, gasping as fire licked through each and every muscle.
It couldn’t be an emotional change—not even an uncontrolled one. The intensity of the agony peaked at levels I’d never before hit.
“Clothes,” I squeaked before a cry escaped me.
Beth tugged at my sweatshirt, bringing forth further gasps as she hauled my arms at an angle they didn’t want to go. Her hands grabbed for my vest, and she sent it sailing.
With my top half free, my palms hit the ground, fingers clawing through damp, uncut grass and into the soft soil beneath.
Beth dropped to her knees before me.
I tried to focus on her, but I could barely think straight, let alone see.
Fingers tugged at the waistband of my jeans. The denim chafed at my tender skin as they were yanked over my hips and legs—a moment before excruciation attacked.
My spine tightened, expanded and tightened again. The muscles either side contorted to accommodate the altered physique. My back bowed against the pressure, higher than could be considered natural. Head hanging low, I watched the pale hairs force out from my pores.
The splitting of my skull blinded me, followed by facial adjustments that always seemed to hurt more than anything else, and I threw my head up as a roaring growl rumbled up through my chest, ripping past lips already vibrating.
As the end neared, I almost allowed myself a small sigh of relief—until a higher control dragged me backward, and my body heaved into reversal.
Body afflicted, mind tormented, needling pain stabbed beneath my flesh. Through the transformation from wolf to human, it all became clear.
I lowered my face to bring Beth into my sights, willing my vocal chords to hurry back into play whilst attempting to take over and gain control of my bodily alterations.
“Sean,” I gasped.
She came closer. Her fingers brushed over the sweat drowning my face.
“He’s here.” Although guttural, my voice sounded more human.
“Jem?” Beth glanced around, left and right, as though she would spot him any second.
“Not my change,” I whispered. “Sean’s. I can feel him. We must be close.”
“Holy shit!” said Jess.
Attention on Beth as the reversal neared its end, I attempted to push it faster toward completion so I wouldn’t become trapped within, as I knew happened to Sean—but as with the initial change, it began to go back the other way before I’d even finished.
“Oh, God!” A low cry squeezed past my clenched teeth. “Not again.”
Beth’s fingers gripped either side of my face, held my head steady to look at her as the change dominated once again. “Jem, you need to block it.”
“Can’t.” My arms shook with the effort to hold me up as the second change tore at me.
I couldn’t fight something so powerful, didn’t have the strength. The air filled with my cries as I blocked as much of the pain as possible.
“Disconnect from him, Jem.” Beth’s tone held urgency.
My cries evolved into snarls as my body swayed upon trembling limbs.
“Disconnect!”
Stabbing sensations pierced each of my vertebras as they locked, unlocked and locked
yet again. Teeth bared, lips drawn back, feral grunts growled their way out.
“Come on! You can do this.”
I tried to focus on Beth’s words but disconnecting from Sean did not come naturally to me—especially not when only thoughts of how long he’d endured the torture filled my head.
“Concentrate!”
Her harsh words snapped me back enough to listen to her—to get a grip on my situation.
“Good.” She nodded. “Keep going, Jem.”
The whole incident couldn’t have taken as long as it appeared to, but when consumed by agony of such depth, even ten minutes could seem interminable.
Through Beth’s words and guidance, the sound of her husky voice and the warmth of her contact, I switched off mentally to everything but that in front of me.
My body calmed, muscles relaxed. Bone structure realigned and hairs shortened. With breaths spurting out in short pants, my arms gave way, and I collapsed to the ground.
• • •
A small eternity passed before I went from sucking in cold, damp earth to drinking in much needed air. Legs still weak, I pushed to my feet, swaying in my upright condition.
Beth tucked a sweat-streaked strand of hair behind my ear. “You should take a few more minutes, Jem.”
I shook my head, bent to grab my vest.
“You’re not ready. The pain’s barely subsided. You’re not even steady.”
“Which is why I need to move now.” I tugged my top over my head, shoving my arms through. “I can’t leave Sean to go through that any longer. There’s no way anyone can survive that countless times and remain sane. No way.” I bent for my jeans, dragged them over my feet and wiggled my hips to accommodate the snug denim.
Her hands snared my face again, holding me still. “Take a moment, Jem.”
Knowing she’d never relent, I closed my eyes, took deep breaths.
Every scent on the air sucked into my nostrils. That of the countryside always seemed so much less tainted by unwelcomed smells. If not for the exhaust fumes excreted by the idling engine of the pickup, it would have been the perfect combination of flavours to lap up.
Blue Moon Page 29