Dark Moon

by Lori Handeland

  “What did you say?” Nic asked.

  “Silver works on werewolves in the daytime as well as the night. In human form as well as the form of a wolf.”

  Understanding spread across Nic’s face, followed closely by excitement. “We’ll shoot him in the daylight. He won’t even know what hit him.”

  “Only this one time,” Edward ordered. “Billy is a special case.”

  Edward frowned on us shooting people with silver in broad daylight, no matter how certain we might be of their true nature. In his defense, flaming humans were a lot harder to explain than flaming wolves.

  “Fine. One-time deal only. Now where’s my gun?”

  “You will need a rifle, as well,” Edward said. “I have an arsenal in the trunk.”

  He always did.

  Nic practically skipped off to shop at the firearm bonanza, as I stalked toward Edward. I did not want Nic going after Billy. Billy was insane.

  “Nic isn’t a Jager-Sucher. Since when does he get to pick a rifle and join the party?”

  “Since we are shorthanded, and you are nothing short of horrific with a gun.”

  My chin went up. “I have other talents.”

  “Not in the daytime. Besides, I doubt you will be able to stop him.”

  Nic was going through the rifles. His face held a determination I recognized. He wouldn’t be dissuaded from hunting Billy.

  “Fine, but he goes with you.”

  “Not you?”

  “You’re the best. Except for Leigh.”

  Edward scowled but didn’t argue since I was right, then he stomped over to the trunk and yanked out his favorite rifle. “Franklin, you are with me.”

  Nic glanced in my direction, and I shrugged as if I had nothing to say about anything. Though I didn’t want Nic out of my sight ever again, he’d be safer with Edward. Especially since Billy seemed to have a hard-on for me.

  “We will meet at the cabin before dusk. If one of us has accomplished the task, fire three rounds into the air, then return to town.”

  “What about the car?”

  Edward’s long-suffering sigh made me want to melt into the earth with shame, same as it had when I was three.

  “Drive the vehicle back to town. Walk out from there, Agent Franklin and I walk in from here. We will flush him from his hiding place.”

  Was I supposed to know this trick without ever having been told? Apparently.

  Edward moved toward the trees. Nic glanced in my direction and paused.

  Though it was the height of unprofessionalism, I went into his arms. Edward didn’t even bother to snicker, snort, or be snide. He must think we were all going to die.

  “Be careful.” Sure, he was an FBI agent, but this was a Billy and Lord knows what else.

  “You won’t be safe until he’s dead.” Nic released me.

  “Maybe you should go—”

  “I think I’m better off with Mandenauer and enough guns and ammo to outfit a small country than I am at the cabin alone or on my way to the airport in a flimsy steel car.”

  He was probably right. Nevertheless, I didn’t like this at all.

  “Meet you in Fairhaven before dusk, if not sooner.”

  I glanced at my boss as Nic joined him. The old man acknowledged my query with a single sharp nod.

  Billy would not get to Nic. Not while Edward was alive.

  Of course, Edward being dead was just another one of my mountain of worries.

  Chapter 33

  The wind suddenly whispered in Lydia’s voice. He’ll do anything to keep me from sharing his secret.

  I remembered another time, another place, another message. Had the voice been Lydia’s? I didn’t think so. How many voices were there?

  Edward appeared oblivious to any whispers on the wind. Which was probably the entire idea.

  I opened my mouth to call out to him and the trees murmured: I’ll tell you the truth about your mother.

  My teeth closed with an audible snap. I knew the truth about my mother. Didn’t I?

  “What about Lydia?” I asked.

  “Kill her.”

  “Sir?” I blinked. “She’s a—”

  “Murderer? Witch?”

  “We shoot monsters, don’t we?”

  “You do not think she is a monster?”

  I wasn’t sure.

  “Shouldn’t we find out what she’s done and how to undo it? If she’s dead that could be tough.”

  “Do what I tell you. Or must I use that silver bullet I keep solely for you?”

  My eyes narrowed; so did Edward’s. I was half-tempted to shift and chase him around the yard; too bad it was daytime. Too bad he’d kill me without so much as a bat of his nearly invisible blond eyelashes.

  See? said the breeze through the leaves. He doesn’t want you to know.

  I averted my eyes. I might be an alpha wolf, but in the human world, Edward was king. Besides, with him hanging around, I’d never find out if what I’d been told about my mother was the truth. If Lydia could be trusted to tell the truth.

  Probably not. Nevertheless, I found myself sympathizing with Eve in her garden. All that knowledge just waiting in a tree—all she had to do was listen to Satan.

  The wind fluttered the ends of my hair, the silence so loud it pulsed with unanswered questions. When I looked back, both Edward and Nic were gone, so I chose a weapon, shut the trunk of the Cadillac, and headed in the direction of the voice—conveniently in the opposite direction of the others.

  I had my orders. Despite my unease about killing Lydia, I’d killed people before. Just not with a gun.

  Besides, who knew? Maybe eliminating Lydia would also eliminate the witchie wolves she’d raised and the coming Armageddon.

  Two birds, one stone. I’d always loved that.

  I followed the wind. Every time I hesitated the breeze spoke, drawing me farther and farther away from the cabin and closer and closer to—

  Coming around a crop of low spruce bushes, I slid to a stop at the edge of the ravine. The scent of wolves washed over me, so strong I could distinguish it even in human form.

  I paced back and forth until I found an opening big enough for a woman instead of a wolf, then inched through the brambles. Peeking over the rim as I’d done once before, I discovered nearly a dozen ghost wolves lolling on a grassy knoll.

  The witchie wolves were werewolves, down to the human eyes. No longer shadows, they weren’t solid either, since I could see the grass right through their hides.

  “I’ve been waiting.”

  I spun toward Lydia’s voice, half-expecting to find nothing but the rustle of a nonexistent breeze through the trees. But she stood a few feet away in a flowing skirt and peasant blouse of muted colors—violets beneath a spring rain, the sky just before a storm.

  All of her bangles—wrists, ankles, feet—were in place. How had she snuck up on me? She must be able to appear as easily as she disappeared.

  She held a gun in one hand, which looked suspiciously like the one I’d chosen from Edward’s car. Glancing at my holster, I saw she’d disarmed me as easily as she’d snuck up on me. Edward would have a stroke.

  Lydia tossed my weapon into trees, then lowered two fingers into the valley between her breasts and withdrew the icon, strung on a leather strip around her neck. “Remember this?”

  I nodded.

  “You hand over the power; I’ll tell you all about your mother. What do you say?”

  I wasn’t going to agree, especially since I had no idea how I could hand over anything. But if she was inclined to chat, I was inclined to ask questions.

  “You made the talisman. Why?”

  “To steal your magic.” She rolled the icon between her fingers. “But you’re stronger than I imagined.”

  “How could that thing steal my power when lycanthropy’s caused by a virus?”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes.”

  Her smile was secretive, smug, and I stifled the urge to beat every tidbit of inform
ation out of her. All in good time.

  “Cora told me I could capture the essence of a werewolf, contain it in the icon and transfer the gift to myself.”

  “I never heard of such a thing.” If I had, I’d have bottled up my magic and given it away long ago.

  “You’ve been barking up the wrong tree, pardon the pun, for a while now. Concentrating all your efforts on science: tonics, balms, cures. But there’s more than one answer to every question.”

  “Is lycanthropy caused by a virus or isn’t it?”

  “Both. Mengele manufactured a virus through magic.”

  Which was interesting, but didn’t really help me much with the cure.

  “If you wanted to become a werewolf, all you had to do was ask one of your pals.”

  “As if I wanted to be insane, ruled by the moon and my rumbling, blood-seeking belly.” Lydia grimaced. “I want the power without the demon. That’s what the old one promised.”

  “And then you killed her?”

  “Well, I didn’t need her anymore.”

  I had news for Lydia. She was already a stark raving lunatic, even without the demon.

  “How was the talisman supposed to capture my power?”

  “I don’t know how, only that it would. Cora did some mumbo jumbo, told me to purify the talisman with the blood of a sacrifice, and when you changed the first time after touching the icon, your abilities would leave you and fill it.” She scowled at the plastic wolf. “The bitch double-crossed me. Instead of stealing the magic, she made you stronger.”

  Bless the old woman I’d never met, had she given me the ability to defeat her own murderer? I had to think so, if I could only figure out how.

  “So now I’ve got to kill you,” Lydia continued.

  “Whoa! What? Why?”

  “Cora said sacrifice. I didn’t realize she meant you. I should have.”

  Well, she was delusional. Who knows, maybe she was even right.

  However, since I’d come to Fairhaven, I kind of liked my power. Even if I didn’t, I certainly wasn’t going to give it to her.

  “If you didn’t want me dead in Montana, then who blew up the compound? Who tried to shoot me with silver?”

  Maybe if we kept talking, I’d stumble over something I could use.

  “The idiot werewolves.” She shook her head in disgust. “Sometimes I swear only morons are bitten. They really do need a leader.”

  She glanced at the forest as if searching for someone, then gave an impatient huff before turning back to me. “I sold the information about your true nature before I figured out how I could use it to my advantage. Some ambitious werewolf decided to make everyone happy by eliminating you.”

  “What did I do?”

  “Who knows when you might stumble onto a cure, and then their fun is over. But I discovered their plot, and I saved you.”

  “Saved me,” I repeated stupidly.

  “I knew you’d come outside to check on your wolves, so I upset them.”

  My eyes narrowed. I opened my mouth, then shut it again, deciding I didn’t want to know what she’d done.

  “You came out; the bomb went off—”

  “Then someone took a shot at me.”

  “He’d have gotten you, too, but I bumped him.” She winked. “He never saw me coming.”

  “Okay.” This was all making a sick sort of sense. “Then—”

  “The idiot got spooked by your FBI friend and took off. I heard you say you were going to the shed, so I killed the rabbit, planted the icon—”

  “And the rest is history.”

  “Except the damn thing didn’t work.” She stared into the hokey jeweled eyes. “Yet.”

  Lydia pocketed the totem. “Once I figured out Cora had double-crossed me, I headed for Fairhaven so I could regroup before you got here.”

  “How did you know I’d come?”

  “The compound’s dust; someone’s trying to kill you; traitor in the ranks; strange and bizarre occurrences in Fairhaven.”

  I started to see where Lydia was headed.

  This had been a setup from the beginning.

  Chapter 34

  “You raised witchie wolves to bring the Jager-Suchers to Fairhaven?”

  “Of course not. There’s a reason for everything I’ve done. When the dark moon comes, all will be clear.”

  “As mud,” I muttered.

  “I knew you’d come to Edward. Then I’d have to get the others to leave so you’d be alone.” Lydia spread her hands. “Werewolves popping up all over the place, and wham, the good doctor is on her own.”

  “But I’m—”

  “Not. I know. I didn’t figure on the FBI showing up and refusing to leave. Some idiot werewolf again—giving the Feds a tip, trying to screw up your life and instead screwing up mine. Heads are going to roll once I’m in charge.”

  I could imagine.

  “Come on.” She shoved me farther into the ravine. As we walked through the sleeping ghost wolves, they awoke and milled around our legs. The sensation was creepy—like a chilly brush of wind that scrambled straight through my bones.

  A rustle from the forest was followed by the murmur of voices, the measured tread of human feet.

  Edward and Nic pushed their way through the brambles at the edge of the clearing. They gaped at the witchie wolves. Their ability to see them made me uneasy. When they caught sight of Lydia, they pointed their weapons at her head.

  “Just in time to watch the show.” She put a knife to my throat.

  Silver, it burned like fire. Smoke rose in an unpleasant stream in front of my face.

  “We will kill her to get to you,” Edward said. “It is our way.”

  “Not my way.” Nic stepped forward and the ground shifted.

  The witchie wolves howled so loudly my ears rang, then as one they stood and encircled the ravine. Nic’s cell phone rang, the sound shrill and alien in the warm, waiting silence.

  “Could be Will,” I managed. With information that wasn’t crap.

  Nic punched the on button.

  “Stay out of the woods.”

  I heard Will’s voice as clearly as if the phone were pressed to my ear. This increased-power deal was very handy.

  “Too late,” Nic said.

  “Definitely stay away from that ravine where most of the bodies are buried. The greatest concentration of spiritual power is there. The witchies will protect that ground, since it was by far the most desecrated. It’s where they’ll come to power.”

  “In two weeks?” Nic asked.

  “ ’Fraid not. In some legends the dark moon is when the moon is new. In others, the dark moon shares the sky with the sun. The moon is always there, you just can’t see it in the daytime.”

  “The dark moon is now,” I whispered.

  Understanding filled Nic’s eyes, and his grip tightened on the phone.

  “The witchie wolf army can’t be killed,” Will continued. “They’re already dead. You need to stop Lydia from ... whatever it is she’s going to do.”

  “How?” Nic asked.

  “The most powerful shaman commands them.”

  “Lydia’s not an Indian.”

  I remembered Will’s explanation about shamans. “Blood has nothing to do with it.”

  “You’re wrong.” Lydia pricked my neck. “Blood has everything to do with it.”

  The ground trembled, and Lydia released me. I spun as she lifted the talisman, marked with my blood, toward the sun-drenched sky. “Blood to the earth, flesh to the flesh, spirits arise.”

  “Go!” I shouted to the others. “Run.”

  Nic snorted. “I don’t think so.”

  “I live for this,” Edward said.

  The two started forward, and the witchie wolves snarled. Both men shot at the nearest wolf. Their bullets went right through the bodies and into the ground. Together they turned their weapons on Lydia and the wolves charged.

  “No!” I shouted, but they didn’t seem to hear.

 
Instead they knocked the men to the grass. Considering how the bullets had gone through them, the witchies were awfully solid. One wolf sat on each of their chests, while two others yanked their weapons away and dragged them into the trees.

  “Keep everyone out.” Lydia lowered her arms. “Now it’s just you and me.”

  The witchie wolves howled.

  “And them. They want to be led. They don’t know what to do all alone.” Lydia inched closer to me. “I need more blood. I’m thinking, all of it.”

  Fury shot through me. What good were years of lycanthropy if I couldn’t defeat one crazy witch?

  With anger came strength, and energy rumbled along my skin like a flaming wind. I couldn’t prevent the growl that tickled my throat from coming out of my mouth.

  The sun was shining. I should not feel the call of the moon, but I did.

  “Don’t fight it,” Lydia said. “Shift in the daylight. You’ll feel a whole lot better.”

  “That is what she wants,” Edward shouted. “Do not do it.”

  Lydia’s laughter tickled my spine like a feather. “Aren’t you tired of him telling you what to do?”

  “No,” I lied.

  “If you knew everything there was to know, you’d change your mind.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Let’s find out.”

  I blinked, and she was gone.

  “Do you know who your mother was?” Her voice seemed to come from everywhere. The trees, the sky. Where was she?

  “She was a werewolf. Edward killed her.”

  “Yes, but do you know why?”

  “She was a werewolf.”

  “Not why he killed her; why she was a werewolf?”

  “Bitten.”

  “Because of who her father was.”

  My mother’s father. My grandfather. Who had he been? I’d never asked. No one had ever offered. I was an orphan, my entire family wiped out by werewolves. Maybe that was true. Then again, maybe it wasn’t.

  “They came after him, but they found her.” Lydia’s whisper was like a serpent hissing in my ear. “Death was too easy after all he’d done. Edward arrived too late to save his daughter, but he managed to save you.”