SHADOWS OF A WOLF MOON Book 5: RISE OF THE ARKANSAS WEREWOLVES

by Jodi Vaughn

  “That’s weird.” Catty looked at him.

  “Just one more punishment they tacked on. Not only can I not leave, I can’t touch the stones. They did it so I wouldn’t ruin them with my ‘wickedness.’” She made air quotes and snorted. “Not like I can ruin someone that’s already dead.”

  “Can you not step on the graves either?” Catty asked.

  “I don’t step on the graves because it’s good manners.” She turned and glared at Catty. “How would you like it if people jumped up and down on your grave after you’ve died?”

  “That’s very thoughtful of you.” Something in Catty’s tone softened, and Lucien knew she felt bad for the witch.

  “Where do you go when you disappear?” Catty ventured.

  “I’m still here. You just can’t see me.”

  “So you’re invisible.”

  “Not exactly.” She turned and looked at Catty. “I go into the world between the living and the dead. It’s like being trapped in a mirror. You can see what everyone is doing but you can’t interact.”

  “How long will the spell take?” He steered the conversation back on track.

  “Shouldn’t take long since you brought me the right ingredients.” She cocked her head and stared at him. “Are you sure you want to know? Once you start down this path, it will put you and all you love in danger.” Her gaze flitted to Catty.

  “He wants to know. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.” Catty propped her hands on her hips.

  “I bet you can. I bet you are stronger than anyone gives you credit for, little wolf.” Ella nodded her approval. “That’s good. You’ll need that in this life.”

  Ella turned her attention back to her grave. The large rusted chains that circled the grave had a few chinks missing. Lucien had read up and knew the legend had stated that on the night Yazoo City burned, the witch’s grave had been broken, unleashing her from her grave.

  She didn’t seem like a vindictive woman. She seemed lost.

  “Do you need us to do anything?”

  “Are you offering?” The witch gave him a sultry smile.

  “No. He’s not.” Catty growled.

  Ella looked at Catty and gave her a sympathetic look. “Word of advice. No man is worth losing yourself over. No man.”

  “Easy.” He pulled Catty back into his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist and glared at Ella.

  “Fine, fine. You guys are no fun at all.” Ella sighed and knelt down on her grave. She poured the contents out of the bag onto the ground.

  She sat back on her knees and took a deep breath as she looked up at the sky.

  She mixed the ingredients into a pile, crushing the leaves and herbs into a heap. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a lighter. She held the orange flame to the ingredients.

  It caught fire and sparked to life. The orange flame suddenly turned a brilliant blue as wisps of blue smoke circled around the witch.

  Lucien and Catty stepped back.

  Ella looked up at the sky and fixed her gaze on the moon. She lifted her hands out to her side.

  “Deeds and intents, words and thoughts,

  Look forever into the valley of the lost.

  Hidden will and treachery abound,

  Life’s taken and secrets buried underground.

  Let that which was hidden, now be made known,

  And reveal the lives that now are gone.

  Oh moon illuminate what the wolf seeks to know

  And reveal the enemies and its secrets that grow.

  For what was once lost let once be found,

  Reveal to me so the evil can be brought down.”

  The fire jumped toward the sky, twisting and turning and growling tall like a tornado. The fire enveloped Ella, yet she didn’t move.

  He reached for the Ella to drag her out of the fire, but Catty held him tight.

  “Don’t,” she whispered near his ear. “Look. The fire isn’t burning her.”

  Though she was engulfed in flames, she wasn’t burning.

  Suddenly the blue fire turned white and began to drift back to the ground. Ella looked straight ahead her eyes blank and entranced.

  Suddenly her head dropped forward and the fire died out.

  “Stay here,” he ordered before he rushed forward.

  He knelt down and took Ella by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  “Get me off this grave,” she pleaded weakly.

  He picked her up and carried her to a nearby tree.

  Catty knelt beside her. “What happened?”

  “I’m weak. That kind of spell always takes my energy.” Ella pushed herself up on her elbows and rested back against the large oak tree behind her. Her face was deathly pale.

  “Did you see something?”

  “Yes.” She lifted her gaze to his.

  “I saw a werewolf being held captive underground in New Orleans. I watched as his flesh was cut away from his back.” She squeezed her eyes tight and grimaced.

  Lucien’s gut tightened. She was spot on.

  “Oh, my god,” Catty’s hand went to her mouth as she looked at Lucien.

  “What else?” He needed to know.

  Ella sucked in a deep breath.

  “Ella, I need to know where I can find them and who’s doing this.” His rough tone cut through the silence of the night.

  “So this is true?” Catty’s horrified gaze landed on him.

  “That’s why I was sent here. To find out who is doing this and stop it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Ella, I need to know where I can find them. I need to know if they are still alive.”

  “He’s gone. Forever lost.” All the seriousness had gone out of Ella’s tone. He knew then she was telling him the truth.

  “Dead?” Fuck. He’d held out hope Mitchell was still alive. “Where?”

  “Under the ground of New Orleans. Look near the shipyard.” She glanced over at Catty and glared. “You won’t have to look too hard. Isn’t that right, Catty?”

  “What the hell are you insinuating? You think I knew about this?” Catty’s voice grew louder.

  Lucien’s blood ran cold. He looked from Catty back to Ella.

  “Tell me! Did you see me in your vision?” Catty asked.

  “I saw something called the Triple X and the man who owns it. He knows about it. I saw the wolves being tortured. I saw your face, looking on.” Ella sneered and looked away.

  “That’s bullshit.” Catty stood and crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t even know anything about this. The first I heard of Guardians being in trouble was when Lucien found me. I had no idea this was going on.” She looked to him to gauge his reaction.

  “It’s true. Catty doesn’t know anything about this.” He knew when someone was lying to him and he knew without a doubt she was telling the truth.

  “I see what I see.” Ella glared and stood. She lost her balance and grabbed for the tree for balance.

  “Are you all right?” Lucien placed his hands on her shoulders to support her, but she waved him away.

  “Doing that spell drained the energy out of me. I would love some water if you have it.” She gave him a weak smile.

  He cut his eyes at Catty.

  “I’d go, but I’d have to jump over the fence, and I know how much you hate that.” Catty shrugged.

  “Fine.” He held Catty’s gaze before heading back to the bike.

  He jogged toward the gate. He could grab the extra water bottle out of his saddlebag and be back in less than a minute.

  When he reached the wrought-iron gate, he wrapped his hands around the metal and scaled the fence. He landed on his feet on the other side.

  He opened the saddlebag and felt around for the water bottle. His fingers brushed against the cool plastic.

  He stuck the bottle into the pocket of his leather jacket and headed back to the fence.

  A scream rang out through the night, se
nding chills up his back.

  Catty.

  He leaped for the fence, cleared it, and landed on the other side. He ran toward the witch’s grave with his heart jumping in his throat.

  “Catty,” he growled.

  “Lucien, help me!” The sheer agony in her voice had his heart beating out of his chest.

  Frantic, he turned toward a copse of trees near the back of the cemetery and raced toward her.

  She was leaning against the tree, her face twisted in agony.

  “Catty, what’s…” His voiced died off when he reached her. A large sword stuck out of her shoulder, impaling her to the large oak tree. Blood streamed down her chest, and she struggled to take a breath.

  “Fuck.” He shouldn’t have left her.

  “Just get me down.” Tears streamed down her face.

  He cupped her face between his hands. “This is going to hurt, sweetheart.”

  “I don’t care. Do it.”

  Nausea washed over him as he griped the handle of the sword in his sweaty palm. With his other hand, he pressed his palm in the middle of her chest to hold her still. “Catty…”

  “Just do it,” she begged.

  When he found that fucking witch, he was going to gut her.

  Gritting his teeth, he pulled the sword from her body. She screamed as the blade passed through her flesh, and then she crumpled.

  He dropped the sword and caught her. Gently he laid her on the ground to better assess her wounds. Grabbing her T-shirt, he ripped the material away. A large wound near her shoulder gushed blood with every beat of her heart.

  He took his jacket off and pulled off his T-shirt. He made a bandage out of her ripped shirt and held it to her wound.

  “Hold this, sweetheart.” He held her hand over the bandage. He made quick work of tying his T-shirt over the bandage to secure the dressing.

  “She escaped.” Catty looked up at him. “After she stabbed me, she said something about my blood being her key to getting out of here. I don’t know where she went, Lucien.” Her face pale from the blood loss.

  “I don’t give a fuck about that bitch. You are my concern right now. Right now I need to get you out of here.” He looked up and fixed his gaze on the fence in the distance. There was no way he could scale the fence with her. She didn’t have the strength to hold on.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “For what?” He brushed the sweaty hair out of her face.

  “For letting her go. For messing this up.”

  “Baby, you didn’t mess anything up.” His voice cracked as emotion filled his chest. He had to get her out of here.

  “I need to go get my bike, okay? Do you think you can ride?”

  “I can hold on with one hand.” She nodded weakly.

  He pressed her hand harder on the dressing, and she flinched. “Keep pressure on this, okay? I’ll be right back.”

  He raced across the cemetery, the adrenaline pumping through his heart and into his limbs. When he reached the fence, he jumped, clearing it with one leap. Landing on his feet, he looked at the lock on the gate.

  He grabbed the lock and pulled. The metal twisted and groaned in his hand until it fell free to the ground. He swung open the gate and ran back for his Harley. He started the engine and the bike roared to life. Gunning it, he headed inside.

  He stopped a few feet away from Catty. Kneeling beside her, he noticed her breathing had turned to a pant and her fingers clutching the bandage were covered in blood.

  “I won’t die from this. The sword wasn’t silver.” She gave him a small smile.

  Werewolves didn’t die from most wounds.

  But she was still in agony.

  She didn’t deserve that.

  “I’m going to pick you up. You are going to have sit in front of me facing backwards. That’s the safest way I can hold you on the bike, okay?”

  She gave him a painful smile. “Like something in a movie.”

  “Yeah, something like that.” She stifled a moan as he gathered her in his arms and carried her to the bike. He eased on and settled himself with her sitting in his lap facing the back of the bike. She wrapped her legs around his waist.

  “This is going to be a long trip back to NOLA.” She moaned as he shifted her closer.

  “We’re not going to New Orleans.” He needed to take her somewhere isolated, somewhere they wouldn’t draw the attention of humans.

  It was a place he’d visited in the summer as a child. It was a place he never thought he would return to.

  But for her… he was willing to risk anything.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Catty tried to tighten her hold on Lucien as he tore down the highway, but her strength was slowly leaving her. The pain was unbearable and all she wanted to do was sleep.

  If she ever found Ella again, she was going to rip her spleen out through her mouth.

  After Lucien went back to the bike, Ella had fallen to the ground. She’d bent down to help Ella up. The second she was on her feet, the witch had said a few words and Catty found herself flying backwards into a tree. As she struggled to catch her breath, the witch was suddenly in front of her with a sword.

  Ella leaned in close and she actually looked a little sad. “I’m sorry, Catty. It won’t kill you— it’s not silver. It’ll hurt like a bitch. But I need your blood to be able to leave this hell I’m stuck in.”

  Like lightning, Ella drove the sword through her shoulder and pinned her to the tree like a bug.

  White-hot pain tore through her shoulder as she screamed. It had seemed like an eternity before Lucien was there, standing in front of her looking scared to death. She didn’t think it would have hurt any worse to pull the sword out, but she’d been wrong.

  “Stupid bitch.”

  “What?” Lucien leaned his head closer as he drove down the dark highway.

  “I’m going to kill that witch if I ever see her again.”

  “You won’t have to. I’ll beat you to it.” He growled and lowered his speed. He made a turn onto a dirt road.

  “We can’t be in New Orleans yet.”

  “No, we are going somewhere else so you can rest.”

  She shook her head against his chest as tears fell down her cheeks. “We don’t have time. We have to get back to New Orleans to stop whoever is doing this horrible thing.”

  “We will. We’ll stop it. We will just take another day to do it.” He cradled her close with one arm as he slowed his speed.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Someplace special. Someplace I’ve never taken a woman.”

  “Home to Mommy?” She tried to laugh, but it hurt too damn much.

  “Actually…”

  He hit a rut in the dirt road and pain seared through her body. Nausea welled up inside her stomach. Her head began to swim, and she tried to stay conscious. But it was no use.

  Blackness descended upon her and sucked her into delicious oblivion, away from the reality, away from the hurt, away from the pain.

  ***

  “Catty?” Lucien felt her go limp in his arms and he tightened his hold. Her heart beat against his in a slow and steady beat.

  The large house in the distance loomed ahead, in all its grandeur. Although it wasn’t his childhood home, it was pretty damn close.

  It was his grandparents’ home. After his grandfather retired, he’d built his own mansion. Only this one was hidden on acres and acres of land. His grandfather had prided himself on privacy and made sure to keep his family protected from the prying eyes of humans.

  The house was illuminated as he pulled into the paved driveway. He hadn’t expected anyone to be here.

  His grandparents had died when he was a teenager, and the house had passed to his parents. As far as he knew, they didn’t come much. But that was years ago and times could have changed.

  Time had certainly changed him.

  He killed the engine and set the kickstand. Holding Catty tight against his chest, he got off the bike
. She stirred but didn’t awaken.

  The tall live oaks seem to whisper to each other as the breeze rustled the leaves and settled across the yard. He hurried toward the front door.

  Music from the living room drifted outside. He could see through the large windows numerous couples laughing and talking. There weren’t any cars in the driveway, which meant the cars had been valeted around to the back near the six-car garage.

  He took the steps two at a time, and before he could reach for the doorbell, the large ornate doors swung open.

  The woman he’d known all his life stood there dressed to the nines and holding a glass of white wine. Despite the fine lines around her eyes, she was still a gorgeous woman.

  Her gaze met his, her mouth dropped open, and she went white at the sight of him.

  “Lucien?” Her voice trembled.

  He felt like a specter returning to where it had once lived but was no longer wanted.

  “Mother.”

  Her eyes darted to Catty and then back to him. He opened his mouth and uttered the five words he swore he’d never say to her again.

  “Mother, I need your help.”

  ***

  He sat on the edge of the bed he’d slept in as a child. The glow of the bedside lamp cast a soft light on Catty’s face as she slept.

  She hadn’t woken since he laid her down.

  The door creaked open and his mother hurried in with a plastic first aid box.

  “Was she shot?” She frowned and sat on the other side of the bed and opened the first aid box. She dug out some gauze and tape.

  “No. She was stabbed.”

  She jerked her head up. “Was it silver?”

  “Thankfully, no. But I’m sure it still hurts like a bitch.”

  “Lucien, language.” His mother pressed her lips together and gave him her best stern look.

  It still worked. A twinge of guilt hit his stomach. He shifted under the weight of her stare but continued to look at Catty.

  “I need to see the wound. You should leave so I can take her shirt off.”

  He gave his mother a look of incredulity and shook his head. “I’m not leaving.”

  “I’m guessing you two are more than friends.” His mother’s voice was tight.