Remembered by Moonlight

by Nancy Gideon

  He pinned her to the bed with his size and commanding strength and nothing had ever thrilled her more. She’d trust no man enough to surrender so completely, but to Max Savoie she gave without reservation. Gave of her love, her body, her soul. And he took all with a great, echoing cry.

  She came again, her body bowing, quaking as he continued his near mindless plunging.

  His searing gaze fixed upon the faded marks on her shoulder. Those claiming scars gleamed against damp skin, provoking him to caress them with his mouth, wet them with his tongue and finally breach them with the sudden brief sting of his canine teeth and a quick tugging suction, filling him with the startling essence of all she was. His mate. His love. His alone. The hugeness of that act catapulted him to a forceful eruption that pumped on and on until, totally depleted, he collapsed beside her sated form to slowly return to his own.

  They lay atop the bed side by side, panting heavily for long minutes until Max managed a gusty chuckle.

  “I hadn’t planned things to get out of hand so quickly.”

  Cee Cee’s palm stroked across his chest, resting where his heart pounded up against it. “Do you hear me complaining? Besides,” she murmured, rolling up to face him, smile smug, eyes glittering, “who said it was over?”

  “Certainly not me.”

  He drew her down to him, their lengthy kiss both tender and filled with promise. When he finally allowed her to lift away, only a few scant inches, his expression softened.

  “Have I told you that you are my every dream?”

  Her eyes shimmered. Her voice went smoky with emotion. “Not recently.”

  His lips brushed softly over the new mark he’d layered over the old. “I want to build upon this moment, Charlotte. I want what we have between us now to be enough.”

  “It can’t be enough, Max.” Before he could argue, she pressed a finger against his mouth and added, “Because there’s so much, much more to come.”

  His slow smile had her soul quivering. “I want that to be true.”

  Before she could begin convincing him, one of their phones began to ring. They both cursed then smiled.

  “Is that you or me, Detective?”

  “I think it’s you, Savoie.”

  “Shall we tell the world to go to hell?”

  “It just might do that without us. Answer it. I’m not going anywhere. I can’t think of a single thing that could move me from this spot.”

  She was wrong.

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  An explosion of sound, followed by the eerie wail of a horn trickling down into silence.

  Brigit MacCreedy had no idea where she was when she blinked her eyes open. Through a web of shattered glass, cockeyed lights revealed nightmarish shapes tangled against a wet black sheen. The stench was overpowering. Rot. Gasoline. Her feet were wet!

  She took tentative stock of her situation. Her chest hurt where her shoulder belt cut across it. Her head pounded. Something warm kept dripping into her eyes.

  Her gasp of remembrance brought a sharp slice of pain through her side. They’d gone off the road, plunging into god knows what. The SUV angled front bumper down, listing sharply to the right. Only her seatbelt restrained her. The strange shapes outside were tree limbs spread across the broken windshield, holding it tentatively in place like skeletal fingers.

  Cale!

  No answer to her anxious whisper of his name. She reached across to the passenger seat, fingertips brushing leather. Shaking his arm, she called again. No response.

  Panic quickened her breathing, increasing the slivers of pain in her side and chest. Hand shaking, she fumbled for the overhead light, blinking as it flooded the interior.

  Still belted in beside her, Cale slumped against the door, eyes closed, expression still. His head rested against cracked door glass. An alarming amount of blood stained the front and sleeve of his jacket.

  “Cale?” She touched his face, finding his skin cool. She pressed fingers to his mouth and nose, praying for the relief of a fluttering breath. “Oh, thank you. Thank you.” She swallowed down the awful fear and shook his shoulder. “Cale, can you hear me? Are you all right? Please be all right.”

  His hand lifted, groping weakly until it found hers, drawing her knuckles up to brush his cheek. He spoke in a groggy whisper. “It’s okay, baby. It’s all right. Just let me go.”

  “Cale!”

  His eyes flickered open, focusing first in confusion then with abrupt awareness of their situation. He tried to sit back but relented with a groan to regroup and try again.

  “How long have I been out?”

  “I don’t know. Seconds. Minutes. Hours.”

  “Turn off the light. Are you okay?”

  She responded quickly to his terse command, reluctantly returning them to darkness. “Just banged up, I think.”

  “Any movement from outside?”

  Was someone out there in the dark checking to see if their job was finished? She hadn’t thought of that, and now could think of nothing else. Fear came back, thick and strong. “Not that I’ve seen. Cale, do you think—“

  “There’s water in here.”

  “There’s water out there. I don’t know how deep. We’re caught in trees or brush or something. I’m not fond of water.”

  She could hear a smile in his promise of, “I’ll see what I can do.” Then, the click of his seatbelt. The vehicle rocked precariously as his weight fell against the dash. A low curse, followed by a curt, “We need to get out of here. First, I want to make sure they’re gone. You stay put while I—”

  “Don’t leave me in here alone!”

  His hand squeezed hers reassuringly. “It’ll be okay. I’ll only be gone a minute or two.”

  She couldn’t release him. “Don’t do anything foolish, Cale.”

  “Who? Me? I’m the soul of common sense.”

  Brigit listened as he fumbled along the dash until the moon roof opened above them.

  “You want something to do, talk on the phone. Don’t call your boyfriend. He needs to be with the boy, just in case.” She didn’t ask in case what. “Call Savoie. Tell him to hurry.”

  Then Cale shinnied out through the roof, disappearing.

  After she made the call, the submerged headlights flickered then went out, leaving Brigit in complete blackness. She waited and listened and tried not to give way to the hysteria crowding up into her throat. Something scratched along the roof. She drew a breath to scream.

  A hand reached down.

  “C’mon, mama. Grab on.”

  Under a moonless sky in the quick pan of their headlights the rubber burns were invisible in the night. Except to Max’s preternatural vision.

  “There.”

  Following the point of his finger, Cee Cee guided the car to the edge of the road and let it sit at an idle when Max told her to wait. He got out to test the breeze and shadows for hints of friend or foe. Finally, he called, “Are you injured?”

  “No. We’re good,” Cale reassured as they appeared abruptly from out of the darkness. Brigit leaned against him, and both were wet and stumbling. “Thanks for showing up so quick,” he murmured as he helped his cousin into the Camaro’s narrow backseat.

  “She doesn’t know how to drive any other way.”

  Cale spared him a faint smile. He looked like bloody hell but still trailed along behind Max as he walked the accident scene. No sign of the vehicle that had forced them into the swamp. All that remained of the Escalade was rooftop. Max guessed the plan had been to bury driver and passenger inside.

  Cale studied the marks on the pavement, hiding his own concern. “Sorry about the car.”

  “I’ve got others. It’s insured. How 'bout you?”

  “What?”

  “You insured? You’d better be the way you put hands all over my mate.”

  Cale put them up in a harmless fashion. “Hey, I asked permission. Just playing along like I was told.”

  “Don’t enjoy the part too much. Get in and sit
down before you fall down.”

  From the safety of the back seat with Brigit wrapped in his embrace, Cale calmly answered their questions starting with, “Never saw the driver or got a look at the plates. Could have just been an accident, and he got scared and left the scene.”

  “Do you think that’s likely?” Cee Cee asked, glancing back in the rearview.

  “No. But if they’d wanted us dead, why didn’t they stick around to see to it while they had the chance?”

  “Just glad they didn’t.” After Cale’s agreeing grunt, Cee Cee asked, “Any guesses on who?”

  “My brother, the folks you’re after, that psycho at the club pissed off because he didn’t get a date. It’s Savoie’s car. Maybe someone’s after him. I don’t know. I’m just the new guy.”

  “Or maybe someone doesn’t want this baby born,” Brigit submitted softly.

  Cale frowned. “Who’s the father, Bree?”

  “Daniel Guedry.”

  “Oh, hell!” At the sound of her shivery breath, his voice grew soothing. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. No one’s going to hurt you or that baby. First, they’d have to go through me, your brother, and that big guy knitting booties. And that’s not gonna happen.”

  Her head on his shoulder, Brigit didn’t see his features tighten. Wondering, Cee Cee surmised with a quick backward glance, what the hell he’d walked into.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Thoughts?”

  They lay together beneath the covers of the big plantation bed listening to Cale’s restless prowling along the balcony. Max’s hand moved lazily over the curve of Cee Cee’s hip as he considered her question.

  “Could be any of the things he suggested. A warning or maybe just some drunk’s carelessness.”

  “But you’d bet it’s a warning.”

  “Yeah. What pots are you stirring, Detective?”

  “Blutifino, Terriot rivalry, Chosen influence.”

  “Ah. Just those?”

  A chuckle. “That’s enough for now apparently.”

  “Do you trust this new Terriot king?”

  Cee Cee reflected for a moment then replied carefully. “He cares deeply for his clan and fiercely about his family, and as long as our goals don’t endanger those things, I think he’ll be a strong ally. He’s Oscar’s uncle.”

  “Another one? He said he was family. That explains it. Would he turn on us in favor of this rogue brother?”

  “The brother who stabbed him? I doubt it. Even though he says he doesn’t, I think he took that betrayal very personally.”

  “Once a viper, always a viper regardless of kinship.”

  Cee Cee caught the heaviness in Max’s voice. Was he remembering his father’s duplicity? She snuggled closer into his side to continue her reflection. “Do you think your aunt’s arrival is a coincidence?”

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry.” She rubbed his chest gently. “How did your visit with her go this afternoon?”

  “She spoke about family, grandparents, aunts and uncles.”

  “All who died at the hands of the Terriots.”

  “Yes. She told me about my mother, about my father and how their running away together nearly destroyed our entire line.”

  “And she’s still carrying a grudge?”

  “I don’t know. She’s lived among them in the North for a long time. To become as successful as she is, she’s had to learn to adapt and protect her motives.”

  “Much like you had to.”

  He answered without hesitation. “Yes.”

  “Max, do you think she presents a danger to us?”

  A long silence then a quiet, “I don’t know. I’m her only family. She says that’s important to her. She’s says she can become a strong ally against our enemies, too.”

  “Did she happen to mention those enemies by name?”

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  “How do you feel about her being here, Max?”

  Hearing the concern in her voice, he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Besides the fact that she holds the key to my past? I feel a connection. It’s powerful. It calls for me to believe her, to believe in her. But I don’t know if I can trust that voice.”

  “Then we’ll both proceed with caution, me with Cale, you with Genevieve.”

  “A wise suggestion, cher.” He turned his head to look at her, his eyes luminous and filled with heat. “And how should we proceed, you and I?”

  Her hand fit to his rough cheek. “I think we should pick up where we left off.”

  His smile spread wide, his stare gleamed. “An excellent idea.”

  Max rolled up onto his side, settling a kiss upon her parted lips, drinking slowly, deeply. As his fingers threaded back through her hair, he asked gruffly, “And do you trust me, sha?”

  A day ago, her answer would have been different. But on this night, her vow came steady and strong.

  “With all I love and all I am.”

  “I won’t fail you, Charlotte, though those before me have.”

  Those? Her brow crowded briefly. Who did he mean? Furness? Who else?

  But then his mouth claimed hers once more, and soon coherent thought grew impossible. The joys of having Max Savoie back in her bed left no room for anything else.

  Until hours later, when he slumbered beside her and Cale Terriot’s light step continued to travel the length of the house outside.

  Who else had betrayed her?

  ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

  “He’s still here.”

  Catching the relief in Silas’s voice, Cee Cee passed him a cup of coffee and some advice. “And beating the crap out of everything within reach so I’d stay up here if I were you.”

  Cale had hung a weighted bag from one of the live oaks and punished it mercilessly with punches, elbows and kicks. No graceful poetic moves this morning, just raw motion.

  “Think he’s drawn my face on that bag?”

  “Probably in his mind. He’s going to tear them up in the ring.” When her partner made an agreeing noise, Cee Cee added, “You should be nicer to him, so he’ll continue to help us.”

  “Nicer? I’ve been nothing but nice.”

  She smiled at his indignation. “You’ve been a coldly disapproving, sanctimonious ass and you know it.”

  He tried to argue but couldn’t, settling for a mild, “That’s just my personality. If I embraced him and offered the start of a warm, fuzzy bromance, he’d have spit in my face. I know how to handle Cale. I’ve done it all my life. He’ll use the anger to our advantage.”

  “And it’s all about our advantage.”

  Her sarcasm wasn’t missed. Silas met her chiding gaze without a blink and drawled, “Of course. You think he’s worried about our troubles? He’s here to take care of his own.”

  “The only reason?”

  “Why else? He’s helping us because his clan’s at risk. He wouldn’t walk across a room to put us out if we were on fire.”

  “And yet you make a call without mentioning that risk, and he rides straight through how many states to get here?”

  “He would have been here faster if he’d flown,” Silas grumbled. “But that’s Cale. Always doing things his own way.”

  “You’re doing it again.”

  Silas glanced at her in surprise. “What?”

  She lifted his left hand, turning it palm up. “Rubbing at your wrist.” Her thumb traced over the scars of a long ago burn. “What does this mean?”

  He stared at the brand dispassionately. “It’s a mark of ownership. A sign that I sold my soul to the Terriots to save my sister and cousin after our families were butchered. I’d have been grateful for a little of his spit then.”

  Cee Cee gasped. “Cale did this to you?”

  “Without blinking an eye.”

  “Because you’d nearly blinded the other one?”

  Silas pulled away and tugged his shirtsleeve over the mark. “Before. Don’t ask me to forgive him anything. He didn’t bathe in your
parents’ blood.”

  “But your cousin forgave him.”

  Obviously that fact seared like the Terriot mark. “She’s trusting and sweet. She saw something in him I never could.”

  “Because it wasn’t there or you didn’t want to see it?”

  Without a response, he stepped off the porch and strode down to where Cale brutalized the bag. He moved up behind it to hold it steady against the savage tattoo.

  “You should save some of that for tonight.”

  Cale turned away, snatching up a towel and mopping the sweat from his face. “Don’t worry. I have plenty left. I wouldn’t dare disappoint you.” He glanced toward the house, frowning slightly as he worked up to something that had been eating away at him. “You didn’t tell him.”

  “Tell who what?”

  “The boy. You didn’t give him my old iPod, the one I gave you in Tahoe, or tell him who I was. Why? You know I’d never do anything to hurt them.”

  “Do I? Maybe I didn’t want you to disappoint him.”

  That measured answer hit Cale harder than an unexpected blow. His features grew as unyielding as his knuckles. He flung the damp towel into Silas’s face and went up to the house, nodding to Cee Cee on his way into the dining room. He’d meant to head straight upstairs and then, perhaps out the front door. Until he saw Brigit and Giles having breakfast together.

  Noticing how pale she looked, her eyes darkly circled, her cheeks drawn with fatigue as she offered a faint smile, he went to her first. Crouching down by her chair, he placed solicitous hands on her knee and shoulder, asking quietly, “How are you this morning?”

  Having followed him inside, Silas paused in the open doorway, struck by the sight and by his sister’s response. She stroked their one time enemy’s bruised brow, her face gentling into an expression reserved only for those few she loved. For him. The tender concern in her eyes shook Silas deeply as she murmured, “Fine, and you?”

  “Sweaty.” Cale smiled with an easy affection. More intolerable was the fact that Giles seemed to have no problem with it.

  When Silas grabbed his upper arm to yank him to his feet, Cale didn’t resist, letting himself be pushed toward the hall.