Mated by Moonlight sb-3

by Jessa Slade

  She couldn’t help but answer his smile even though she suspected he was trying to humor her out of worrying. But there was a lot to worry about: killer phae, poisonous mushrooms, not to mention a sexy Alpha on her turf.

  It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 8

  Pacing beside Merrilee back toward her cottage, Beck passed a couple of spears to her pack mates, keeping two for himself. At the porch, he handed them the rest of the makeshift weapons. “Be sure all your strongest have one.”

  They slanted a glance at Merrilee, but she merely nodded, so they took the weapons and headed down the street.

  He clenched his jaw, knowing she was going to rip into him—and rightly so—for ordering her people around. Instead she opened the front door and walked in. She glanced back. “You coming?”

  Surprise held him frozen a moment then he jumped after her.

  Yeah, he was always scrambling to keep up with her.

  In the front office space, Peter and the doctor were hunched in front of Merrilee’s computer while Keisha paced. The coffeepot she’d hauled over to the desk dinged as if on cue, and she distributed cups to everyone while Merrilee summed up the encounter at the lake.

  “Okay, this seems bad.” Peter swiveled back to the computer. “Based on what Eldon here was able to tell me and some poking around, I think we might just have had a phae invasion months ago and not even known.” He pulled up two satellite images of a typical Oregon valley, lush with trees on the ridges and boasting rich bottom land with a meandering stream. Except one image had a large, elegant house lording over the valley. “These images were taken a week apart. And there’s no road. How did a house appear basically overnight?” He waited a beat. “Magic.”

  Merrilee grunted. “A phae rancher glamoured a McMansion for himself in the middle of Oregon?”

  “Oh, it’s real enough,” Peter said. “Even if it doesn’t appear on any records anywhere. I think this is the phae rogues’ stronghold. Look at this.” He pulled up another image of the same valley from a slightly different angle. The light picked out the very faintest pattern in the long grass around which a small herd of black cows grazed. The ring looked very similar to the toadstools Beck had just stomped out.

  “Crop circle,” Peter said with great satisfaction.

  “So. Beef-loving aliens or phae.” Merrilee rubbed her forehead, knocking the flower out of her hair.

  With lightning reflexes, Beck caught it before it hit the ground. He kept the flower, but he ran his other hand up under her hair, closing his fingers gently on the tension at the back of her neck.

  For a moment, she stiffened in affront, the tiny hairs at her nape riffling against his sensitized fingertips, but as he massaged, she let out an almost inaudible sigh. Her skin, chilled from the night air, warmed to his touch.

  Meanwhile, her gaze didn’t shift from the screen. “Where is it, if this is Vaile’s Valley?”

  Peter widened the view, skimming past other landmarks and property divisions. “Few hours’ drive from here, no more. Except for the no road thing. Which of course isn’t a problem if we walk in.”

  Merrilee took another breath and knocked Beck’s hand away as she turned, one hand already at the neckline of her dress, ready to toss it away. “Let’s go then.”

  He caught her elbow. “No.”

  Damn it, the tension flowed back in an instant. He felt it expand all through the room, even to Nally who was not her pack. She triggered that kind of devotion in every wolf-kind she met.

  He should know.

  He dropped her elbow. “You’re needed here. I’ll send Orson.”

  Merrilee shook her head. “Bear-kind are slower.”

  “Not that much slower, and he knows more about the phae than any of the rest of us.”

  She chewed her lip, and he knew she must be exhausted to display that indecision.

  “I could go,” Nally offered. “I could explain most clearly what has happened.”

  The hint of uncertainty gone except for the redder mark on her already red lips, she shook her head. “The Lord of the Hunt probably suspects you are here, hiding among us, and hopes to flush you out. We’re not going to fall for that.”

  “But it’s my fault the phae are here at all.” Nally hunched his shoulders. “I had good intentions creating the spores, but the road to hell...”

  “Not an entire road yet,” Beck reassured him. “Just a few portals to the phae realm.”

  Merrilee grabbed car keys from the desk beside the door. “All right. Nally, you come with us and explain to Orson what he needs to tell the phae, assuming this is Vaile’s Valley. Keisha, Peter, I want to be ready for a pack meeting at dawn. When the Lord of the Hunter comes back, I want some creative answers to his rude questions.”

  As they headed out to her car, Beck murmured in her ear. “You don’t have to come. I can take Nally to town and see Orson off.”

  She shrugged, pushing him away from her shoulder. “No. I’m not letting you do this by yourself.”

  “Letting me?” He made his voice a low rumble.

  She pointed the key at him. “Don’t.”

  “Merrilee, does it ever occur to you that we have a rare opportunity here? Two strong packs, with all the assets that entails. We could make this anything we wanted.”

  “Pack fusion is a risky proposition,” Nally noted. “At least when both Alphas are still alive. Two strong packs means two very strong personalities, and that can lead to...” He met Beck’s furious stare and clutched his satchel to his chest. “That can lead to very interesting things. And of course I believe in opening new pathways... Perhaps I should get in the car.”

  “Do that.” Beck stared at Merrilee over the hood as the doctor slid into the back seat. “Did you notice how I didn’t take the keys out of your hand? I’m a very progressive Alpha male that way.”

  She snorted. “Take my keys and I’ll bite you. I am a bitch that way.”

  Their ride down the mountain was quick and mostly silent.

  They found Orson smelting iron in his backyard in a homemade foundry of sheet metal cylinders riveted together. The fluid pouring from the spout glowed lava-bright.

  “Looks like an accident waiting to happen,” Nally opined.

  Beck glanced at him. “You made mushrooms that unlock real magic.”

  Nally pursed his lips.

  They waited for Orson to complete his task, pouring the molten metal into a box of wet sand. Divots carved in the sand held the metal into pointed shapes.

  When the bear-kind pulled off his welder’s mask, he grinned at them. “Iron spearheads. Gotta love the internet. I asked Babette to hit up her pickers for any iron scraps they can find.” His grin faltered and a hunted look crossed his face. “Not sure what she’ll want for it all, though.”

  “We have another task for you.” Beck quickly outlined their findings and the plan, and then let Nally take over the story. He stepped aside to where Merrilee was standing, staring at the black char in the grass; all that was left of the imp.

  “Like a bad dream,” she murmured.

  “Daylight’s almost here.”

  “And then the phae lord returns after that.”

  A weary note in her voice made him angle protectively closer. “When we finish up here, I’ll take you home. Nally can stay here.”

  She shook her head. “He’s my responsibility.”

  “How?” He tried to keep the growl out of his voice. “We both found him. The phae are threatening our valley and maybe more besides. How is this only about you?”

  “Because.”

  He waited, but she fell silent. “That’s the stupidest answer I’ve ever heard, Mer, and you are one of the smartest women I know.”

  “Because I have to do it all,” she snapped. “That’s what an Alpha does.”

  He straightened. “What? No. We do not do it all.”

  She waved a hand. “Maybe you don’t. Because you are better at this job than me.”

&n
bsp; “That’s not what I—” Orson called his name, and Beck scowled at her. “Hold that thought.”

  “I’ll add it to my list,” she muttered.

  Orson flapped the map that Peter had printed out. “Crazy,” he said by way of commentary. “I’ll get Barry to drive us as close as possible, then we’ll go on foot the rest of the way. We’ll take his phone, so call us if...if anything.”

  They separated at the front walk, Orson heading toward Barry’s house, Beck, Merrilee and Nally to her car.

  Nally peered out the back window as they drove away. “I hope he and his friend will be okay. I’d feel terrible if...” He shook his head. “I already feel terrible.”

  “They are bear-kind,” Beck said reassuringly. “And passable singers. If anyone can sweet talk or force a phae, as necessary, it’ll be barbershop bears.”

  As they drove through the main part of town, half the houses were still lit, despite the late hour. The half that were wereling, Beck knew. The humans would be blissfully sleeping.

  Except one human habitation blazed with a porch light and a string of all-weather rope lighting.

  He tapped the windshield, drawing Merrilee’s attention to the Victorian. “Looks like Babette is awake. Let’s see if her pickers came up with anything today.”

  When Merrilee pulled the car around to the big barn, they found Babette already there. She waved them closer then turned the gesture triumphantly to the pile of rusty pipes laying in the drive.

  As they piled out of the car, she grinned. “What a lucky score, hey? Hauler friend of mine just finished salvaging a tear-down.” She peered past them. “That old bear with you too?”

  Grinning, Beck shook his head. “But Orson will be thrilled to get all this. Can I pay you now?”

  “C’mon inside, and I’ll give you the invoice.” She led the way toward the house. “Mind you, don’t kick a hole through the salt.” She pointed out the thin line of the white crystals poured around the house. “And, Bexley, don’t knock your head on the horseshoes. I didn’t have time to hang ’em right. I did some searching online after I got the foundry design for Orson, and I read the wind chimes are good to have too. But you can’t believe everything you read, right?”

  They ducked under the line of iron crescents dangling from the doorframe into the farmhouse kitchen.

  Nally glanced around curiously at the braid of garlic cloves tied into the shape of a cross. “You...seem to have barricaded yourself against supernatural assault.”

  “Not against bear changelings, I hope,” Babette said cheerfully. “Just those damned fairies.”

  Nally slanted a glance at Beck who shrugged. “Babette is our resident collaborator.”

  The professor nodded. Most humans who stumbled upon the knowledge of werelings kept the news to themselves, rightly suspecting that informing the world of their discovery would not endear them to either werelings or their fellow humans. But the desire to delve deeper into the unknown and forbidden was too much for many of them to walk away, and so they became collaborators, a word that simultaneously acknowledged their new association with werelings...and a certain inevitable distance from the unsuspecting human world they left behind.

  Babette clucked. “Nobody threatens my friends. Don’t much matter who—or what—they are.” She bustled through the swinging door into the dining room which was overflowing with antiques and knickknacks. “I have the invoice here somewhere.”

  Nally sank into a chair that needed a fresh coat of paint. He sighed and leaned his elbow on the end table beside him, then froze.

  Beck noticed his arrested expression. “What’s up, Doc?”

  Merrilee made a disapproving noise at the line, but Nally reached out for an object displayed below the stand of silk scarves and beaded necklaces. The hand-lettered sign above read Local Artists.

  He held the small metal square a moment, his gaze fixed, before rotating his hand to let them see the engraved belt buckle.

  “I like my buckles bigger,” Beck said.

  Merrilee stepped closer. “The pattern is the same as the image Peter showed us.”

  Babette joined them, a yellow sheet in her hand. “Found it. Oh, I see you found a treasure too.” She smiled. “I can add it to your total.”

  “Where did you get these?” Beck poked through the other buckles. Three showed more traditional depictions of broncos bucking, but the last had another version of the stylized circle pattern.

  Babette pointed at the sign. “Sweet local boy. Makes some gemstone ones, but I sell out of those faster than he can get them to me. Name’s Josh Reimer.” She turned over a buckle to show them the RR symbol on the back. “Runs some real nice cattle, too, about three hours from here.”

  “Reimer Ranch,” Merrilee said. “That was on the plat map we saw.”

  “One hill over from Vaile’s Valley.” Beck looked at the older woman. “Do you have his phone number?”

  While Babette dug through her records again, Nally hauled himself upright with a pained sigh, clearly anticipating another long explanation, but Beck put a hand on his shoulder. “Babette, you willing to take on a boarder for the night?”

  She shrugged. “Sure, although I still have some work to get done around here. I read how you can smelt iron in a microwave.”

  The doctor looked horrified and intrigued at the same time. “Another online search?”

  She nodded. “There seemed to be some question whether it’s a good idea.”

  Beck coughed. “I was hoping to have a safe place for Doctor Nally here.” When the professor bristled a bit, Beck gave him a look. “A fairy-free place.”

  Nally sank back onto the chair he’d just left and looked down at his scuffed hands. “Not running sounds wonderful.”

  “I’ll take the spores. I have an old iron safe where we can lock it up until...” He trailed off since he wasn’t entirely sure what came after.

  Nally handed over the satchel with another sigh. “I pass the onus to you.”

  Merrilee shook her head. “You still have knowledge we need. You stay behind these protections until we’re sure the phae understand they can’t have what’s ours.”

  The professor sat a little straighter, nodding. At the brighter spark in the wolf-kind’s tired eyes, Beck was torn between a smile and a nip of jealousy. With just a few words, Merrilee gave the loner new energy and made him hers.

  The first part was fine, but after that...

  Beck shouldered the bag of ‘shroom spores and gestured Merrilee out through the kitchen, Babette following.

  “Poor little man,” she murmured. “He’s tuckered out. I’ll get him fed and put to bed.” She pulled open the door for them. “You send Orson back to me, and I’ll have some iron bullets ready for him.”

  Beck remembered to duck beneath the horseshoes on the way out. “Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

  “But if it does, thank you,” Merrilee added.

  Babette stood in the doorway a moment, staring out at the night. “I always knew there was more to the world than I was seeing. I just...for some reason, it’s been a while since I remembered to look.” She shifted her gaze to them. “So thank you.”

  As they drove away from the barn with the scrap pipe loaded into the trunk, Beck pulled the vial from the satchel. “Seems so innocuous.” He slanted a glance at Merrilee. “But I suppose even a little thing can change everything.”

  She tilted her head. “I suppose.”

  “A mushroom spore, a roadside bomb, an iron bullet,” he mused. “You.”

  Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I don’t think I appreciate the comparison.”

  “Change isn’t always bad.”

  “It’s the bombs, bullets and toadstools part.”

  “They brought us together.”

  “Us? Let’s just get through the next couple of nights alive, okay?” Her expression was hard in the dashboard light, but her tone was pleading.

  “I don’t think just living is enough for
me anymore.”

  “What are you—?”

  “That’s all I wanted while I was overseas, but now... My uncle talked about you when he’d call me. Did you know that?”

  She shook her head wordlessly.

  “He said you were a fine Alpha, done your grandmother proud. He knew I’d be Alpha if I came home, and he wanted me to know about you.”

  “When,” she murmured. “Not if you came home, when.”

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t a sure thing. Nothing is. I could only do my best.”

  “And that’s always been...”

  He waited for a long moment. “Been what?”

  “Nothing.” She pulled into the parking lot by the bar. “I’ll be happy to lock this thing away.”

  Frustration rippled through him. He didn’t doubt she would be. Just as she locked up everything else.

  Chapter 9

  Following Beck into the bar, Merrilee kept her gaze off the pool table. At least he made that easier by not turning on the lights. Instead, he led them directly to the back room and down the basement steps.

  In addition to stock for the bar, his home brewing equipment crowded the cool cement room, the stainless steel vats gleaming under the bare bulb he flicked on. The batch was obviously in the fermenting stage, but a lingering bready scent of the mash made her stomach gurgle.

  Beck glanced back, lips curling in amusement, as he pushed open a door to a side room. “That mac and cheese letting you down?”

  She wrinkled her nose as she followed him into the little office. “If you hadn’t stolen my beer, it would’ve been a real meal.”

  He sat behind his desk and swiveled around to an open cardboard box to withdraw a dark brown bottle. “Try this one.” He swiveled the other direction to open the solid gray waist-high safe pushed into the corner. “Bottle opener’s up there somewhere.”

  She tossed her keys on his desk and dropped into the second rolling chair while he stuffed the satchel into the safe.

  Actually there was a whole bowl full of bottle openers with every logo known to bartenders. She took the Harley one on top but paused when he grabbed his phone and pulled out the phone number Babette had given him.