Seducing the Moon

by Sherrill Quinn

  Pel shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

  “Okay. Be right back.” Taite rushed off toward the kitchen.

  Pelicia and Sully stared at each other in a silence that Sully finally broke. “I expected her to scoff.”

  “She and Declan have been friends a long time.” She wondered how to proceed without telling him about Ryder. But Ryder’s…condition…wasn’t her secret to tell. And apparently Taite had felt the same way about Declan’s situation, because she certainly hadn’t volunteered any information about it.

  They lapsed into silence again.

  “Maybe I should just pop my head in and say hello to Ryder,” Sully said just as Taite came walking back into the foyer.

  “Here you go.” She handed him a bottle of water with a cheery smile. “Straight across the island, remember. And…” She sighed. “Don’t be too hard on him. He’s only been a werewolf for four months—there are some things he’s just not used to yet.”

  “No kidding.” Sully glanced at Pelicia. “Will you be all right?”

  “I grew up here, off and on. I’ll be fine.”

  He gave a nod. “Ladies,” he drawled and opened the front door. After he closed it behind him, Taite touched Pelicia’s arm. “We need to talk.” She drew Pelicia into the parlor. They sat down on the mauve Victorian style settee, Taite with one leg curled beneath her, a concerned expression on her lovely face. “First of all,” Taite said, “how are you doing? Declan told us about the attack.”

  “Did he tell you about Brenna?” Pelicia bit her lip against the renewed urge to cry.

  “Brenna?”

  “My friend Brenna Brown.”

  Taite frowned. “He didn’t say anything about Brenna. What happened?”

  In spite of her best efforts, the tears flowed. “She’s dead. We found her lying on the kitchen floor.” Pelicia swiped at tears trickling down her face. “Sully wouldn’t let me go in the room, which I understand, but…” She trailed off, shaking her head. A sob broke free, then another.

  “Oh, honey.” Taite moved closer and put her arm around Pelicia’s shoulders. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  “She was my best friend.” Pelicia bowed her head and wiped her face with her fingers again. “I can’t help but feel…” She looked up, meeting Taite’s concerned gaze. “Declan tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen.” Her face grew hot then cold. “Why wouldn’t I listen? She’s dead because of me.”

  “No, Pel.” Taite took Pelicia’s hands in hers and gave them a squeeze. “You can’t think that way. This wasn’t your fault. It was his fault—the one who killed her.”

  Pelicia took a breath and fought back her tears. Part of her heard and accepted what Taite was saying, but a larger part of her—the part that wept and ached in loss—couldn’t believe, wouldn’t believe that Brenna’s death wasn’t her fault.

  The man who’d shot at her—twice—had come back to finish the job. Either Brenna had surprised him or…Dear God. What if…Her pulse pounded in her throat and her stomach clenched. What if in the darkness he’d mistaken Brenna for her?

  With a sharp gasp, she untangled her hands from Taite’s and rose to her feet. She’d never even told Brenna that someone had taken shots at her.

  Pelicia paced in front of the fireplace, arms hugging herself. God, she’d been such an idiot. So wrapped up in her pathetic pity-party over how Declan had wronged her she’d been unable to see he was right.

  And now her friend was dead.

  “Pel, please come sit back down. Please,” Taite added. Once Pelicia was seated beside her on the settee, she said, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think Declan realized Brenna was there, that she was dead. I’m sure he would have stayed with you, had he known.”

  Pelicia shook her head. “He was too busy running after the attacker to pay attention to what was going on with me. As usual.” The man focused on his job to the extent he lost sight of everything else. Which was something else they were going to have to talk about at one point or another.

  It was all too much. She teared up again. She wiped the moisture from beneath her eyes, fighting to stay in control. If she started crying again, she was afraid she might never stop.

  Taite reached to the left and pulled a tissue free from a decorative container. “Here.”

  “Thank you.” Pelicia took the tissue and mopped up her face, then blew her nose.

  “Now, what I wanted to talk to you about…” Taite met Pelicia’s gaze, her eyes dark with concern and holding a hint of unease. “We don’t know each other very well, and that’s something I hope we can work on. I think we can become very good friends and it’s with that in mind that I’m going to butt in where I might not be wanted.” She grimaced. “Just stop me if I go too far. I’m told I can be something of a terrier when I’m going after a problem.”

  “What problem?” Pelicia’s brows dipped. Taite was clearly uncomfortable—what in the world was she planning on saying?

  Taite drew in a breath and held it a moment before exhaling noisily. Her blue eyes were serious as she held Pelicia’s gaze. “Declan loves you. He really loves you.” When Pelicia started to respond, Taite held up a hand. “I know he can be arrogant at times—okay, all the time,” she said when Pelicia snorted. “He’s irascible, domineering, and kind of old school when it comes to protectin’ the little woman,” she said with an exaggerated Irish brogue. “But he means well. And he loves you.”

  “He has a funny way of showing it.” Pelicia shook her head. “How can he love me when he doesn’t trust me?”

  Taite frowned. “Why would you think he doesn’t trust you?”

  “You mean beside the fact that he didn’t tell me he was planting a spy at the Nola? And that he didn’t tell me he’d been bitten by a werewolf?” She shrugged, knowing the gesture and her words were full of sarcasm. But she couldn’t stop the hurt from spilling out. “Other than that, you mean?”

  Taite stretched one arm along the back of the small sofa. “I think, in all honesty, he didn’t believe that his life would be impacted that much. The fact that he can see farther, smell things better, hear more acutely are all bonuses as far as he’s concerned. There’s just that little thing three days a month.” She heaved a sigh. “I can’t say I don’t understand how you feel. I’d fallen in love with Ryder and we’d already been intimate before I found out what he was. And it wasn’t because he told me. Not exactly.”

  “How did you find out?” Pelicia hadn’t heard the story and was curious. Just how similar were she and this American in love with a werewolf?

  Well, that was one thing right there they had in common. Not that Pelicia was going to admit it. Besides, love without trust didn’t go very far. She might love Declan but she didn’t trust him.

  She went still at the realization. The very thing she was accusing him of—of not really loving her because he didn’t trust her—was the very thing she struggled with.

  Giving a mental shake of her head, she knew the situations were completely, absolutely not the same. She had good reason not to trust Declan—the man had lied to her not once, not twice, but three times. She, on the other hand, had never given him cause not to believe in her.

  He was just naturally distrustful. How could they have a relationship?

  “The werewolf that attacked Declan was sent by Miles, Ryder’s cousin. He first attacked Ryder and your dad.” Taite hastened to add, “Your dad wasn’t bitten, though he was injured. Slightly. Nothing to be worried about and he’s completely fine now.”

  Pelicia blinked. “You are just digging yourself in deeper and deeper, aren’t you?”

  Taite bit her lower lip. “I can’t seem to help myself. I get on a roll.” She leaned forward. “I went to Ryder’s bathroom to help him get cleaned up and saw the bite marks. I was devastated, thinking that it was my fault, that I had drawn the werewolf to Phelan’s Keep—he’d been stalking me. Long story,” she said with a wave of one hand. “Anyway, Ryder told me that the bites wouldn’t
change what he already was.”

  Pelicia raised her eyebrows. What a way to find out that your lover would get furry once a month.

  Taite tipped up her chin at Pelicia’s expression. “Yeah. You can imagine how shocked—and scared—I was. I didn’t handle the news too well, I’m afraid.” She grew pensive for a moment but soon shook off the sadness. “Ryder was just as reticent about telling me as Declan has been in telling you. I think he was afraid you’d completely cut him out of your life if you knew.”

  “Any cutting isn’t going to be because he’s a werewolf. It’ll be because he’s such a bollock-brain.”

  Taite pressed her lips together as if she fought a grin. She cleared her throat. “Yeah. Well. Regardless that he may or may not be sitting on his brains, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s madly in love with you. He’s talked of nothing else since we got here four months ago.” She leaned back against the sofa. “When you refused to see him, after we’d first arrived, he was so frustrated I thought he was going to wear a new trail around this island, all the running he was doing.”

  “He always did like to run.” Pelicia gave a soft growl. “He’s still running. From me.”

  “Maybe so. But only because he’s just a poor, simple man.”

  That startled a laugh out of Pelicia. “Yes, you could have it right there.” She stared at Taite. “How long was it before you forgave Ryder?”

  Taite shook her head. “There our situations are quite different, Pel. Ryder and I had no prior history. I had no previous hurts to get over. You and Declan have a lot of baggage to get rid of before any healing can begin.”

  She was right again. And Declan, with his arrogance and secrecy, was making it nearly impossible. But if Taite was telling the truth—and Pelicia had no reason to doubt her—part of Declan’s problem was that his anxiety over her continued refusals was making him more rash than normal. He wasn’t making clear-headed decisions where she was concerned.

  That said something. Actually, it said a lot. He had already admitted he hadn’t handled things well two years ago. It would be interesting to hear what he had to say now.

  Why hadn’t he told her straight away that he was a werewolf? What was he so scared of?

  Chapter 13

  Declan heard the clomp of footsteps on the packed dirt path and smelled Sully long before his friend came into view. Without turning, he called, “How’d you find me?”

  “Ryder’s wife.” Sully’s voice was tight with anger, an anger that Declan was sure had grown as he’d walked across the small island. “She seems nice.”

  “She is.” Declan twisted on the fallen tree he was sitting on and looked up at his friend. The anger he’d heard in Sully’s voice glittered in his eyes. “But you didn’t track me here to talk about Taite.”

  “No. I didn’t.” A muscle flexed in Sully’s jaw. “What the bloody hell have you gotten me into, Dec? Werewolves? What the fuck is that?”

  “That, my friend, is my new reality.” Declan stood and strode to the water’s edge. He stared out over the ocean, shading his eyes against the glare of the morning sunlight bouncing off the waves. “Taite was bein’ stalked by a werewolf so I brought her here to Ryder, thinkin’ he’d be able to help her, since he’s…somethin’ of an expert. But the other werewolf tracked her—had actually maneuvered the situation so that I’d bring her here. When he tried to take her, we fought.” He shrugged, the nonchalant gesture nowhere near what he was feeling. “He won. At least until Ryder caught up with him.”

  “How’d Ryder manage to beat him if you couldn’t?”

  Declan turned. From behind Sully he saw Ryder coming down the path. Knowing the other man would hear the conversation, he raised his eyebrows. At Ryder’s nod, Declan met Sully’s gaze. “Because Ryder’s a werewolf as well.” He gestured toward the man joining them.

  Sully’s indrawn breath was sharp. He shifted so that he could see both Declan and Ryder at the same time. Declan noticed he also put about ten feet of space between them.

  He didn’t think that now would be the right time to tell his friend that both he and Ryder could cover that distance in less than a second.

  Sully looked from Ryder to Declan and back again. “What is this, some kind of hair club for men who are overachievers?”

  “If it is,” Ryder muttered, “I was born into it. Declan wasn’t given a choice.”

  “Neither of us was given a choice, Ry.” Declan folded his arms over his chest. “It’s not like you chose to be born into a family with a curse of lycanthropy.”

  “Wait. What?” Sully narrowed his eyes.

  Ryder walked to the water’s edge and thrust his hands into the front pockets of his slacks. Water lapped at the tips of his hiking-style boots. “Several generations ago, an Irish witch—called a cailleach—placed a curse on my ancestor on his wedding day for being unwilling to marry her daughter. He was twenty-five. At the rising of the next full moon, he turned into a werewolf.” He turned to face them. “And so it’s been with every succeeding generation, males only. Once we reach our twenty-fifth birthday until the day we die, we are werewolves.”

  Sully tucked his fingers into the back pockets of his jeans. “So when we were at university together…”

  “I hadn’t yet been affected by the curse.” Ryder sighed. Shaking his head, he added, “When my father killed my mother and then himself because he couldn’t deal with it anymore, I decided I’d be better off—as would everyone else—if I were alone.” He shrugged. “If no one lived with me, there was no opportunity for me to hurt someone.” A slight smile tugged one corner of his mouth. “Cobb refused to leave.”

  “You know, there are a lot of things I might say in complaint about that man,” Declan said, “but his loyalty is never in question.”

  “But you married Taite.” Sully sounded as confused as he looked.

  “She helped me see that I control my beast, not the other way around.” He glanced at Declan. “And so I’ve been helping Declan to learn this as well.”

  Sully met Declan’s gaze. “Is that your story? You been a werewolf all along, too?” Disbelief echoed in his tones, mingled with hurt that he, perhaps, hadn’t known them as well as he’d thought he had.

  Declan knew how he felt—he’d had the same mix of emotions when he’d discovered Ryder’s secret.

  “No, not until I was bitten four months ago by the one I fought with—who was sent by Ryder’s cousin Miles.” He shook his head. “It’s a long story. Suffice to say, Miles hates and envies Ryder, and plans on doin’ whatever he can to make Ryder suffer. Includin’ killin’ his friends.”

  Sully quirked an eyebrow at Ryder. “And you knew all this and married Taite anyway?”

  Ryder’s jaw tightened. “It wouldn’t take much for Miles to find out that Taite had been here, that she and I had fallen in love.” His eyes glittered in the sunlight. “She’s safer with me than out there on her own where he can get to her.”

  Sully was silent for a moment. He turned and walked away a few paces, raking one hand through his hair. Pivoting to face them, he demanded, “And you couldn’t share any of this with me? You thought it was better that I be in the dark here?” He pointed to Declan. “You should know better. How can I do my job properly when I don’t have all the facts?”

  Declan looked at Ryder. Neither of them responded—what was there to say? Sully was right, of course, yet blurting out an “I’m a werewolf” hadn’t seemed prudent.

  Sully propped his hands on his hips. “Fine. I get it. I do.” He jabbed a finger at Declan. “When you busted in this morning and chased off the intruder, did you know he’d killed Brenna?”

  “What!” Declan moved forward, pausing when Sully took a reflexive step back. “And you’re just now tellin’ me about it?”

  The other man fisted his hands at his sides, looking uncomfortable with his instinctive show of fear. His glare was as fierce as Declan’s. “We found her in the kitchen. Her throat had been slit from behind. Aside fro
m that first sharp pain, she probably never even knew what happened.”

  “And Pelicia?” Declan asked. “How is she?”

  “Devastated, as you can imagine.” Sully’s lips tightened briefly. “And pissed off at you.”

  “What the hell is goin’ on?” Declan walked a few paces away, scrubbing the back of his neck with his palm. “At first I thought Pelicia was the target of this bugger because of her grandfather. Then I decided maybe I was the target after all, that it must be Miles up to his old shenanigans again.” He sighed and looked skyward, searching for God knew what among the fluffy clouds. “Now it looks like he must’ve been after her all along.”

  “You can’t know that for sure,” Ryder murmured. “This could be unrelated.”

  Declan shot him a disbelieving look. “You’re kiddin’, right? Someone takes shots at us, twice, and now Pel’s best friend winds up dead in her kitchen? A best friend who looked a lot like her? Not bloody likely.” He started up the path. He had to get to Pelicia.

  He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was his fault. But he’d deal with that later—for now, he needed to get to his woman and make sure she was all right.

  After several minutes of walking at a near trot, Ryder asked, “And just what are you planning on doing, Declan?” He easily kept up with Declan’s long strides, his werewolf metabolism keeping him from getting winded.

  “Yeah,” Sully piped in, his voice labored. “You’re not exactly her favorite person right now.”

  “I’ll think of somethin’,” Declan muttered. He had to, because he refused to accept anything less than success. If he put his mind to it, he could do anything, and that included winning Pelicia back. Even after the mess he’d made of things.

  Again.

  “Well, he’s going to have to explain himself,” Pelicia told Taite. She was through fooling around. Declan O’Connell had better shape up or their relationship—such as it was—was over.

  Footsteps sounded in the foyer, coming from the back of the house, then Declan strode into the drawing room, followed closely by Ryder and Sully.