Ghost Moon

by Rebecca York

  A rebirth.

  He repeated the same phrase and went on to another.

  Ga. Feart. Cleas. Duais. Aithriocht. Go gcumhdai is dtreorai na deithe thu.

  And as the last syllable tumbled from his lips, something amazing happened. His energy body began to change. His jaw elongated. Fur sprouted on his ghost form.

  He braced for pain. But in his phantom form, he didn’t have to make that payment. He only had to shift from man to wolf. His true self.

  As a man, he would have taken off his clothing first. As a ghost, that wasn’t necessary.

  Moments ago, he had felt nothing but despair. Suddenly, a kind of joy leaped inside him—a joy long denied him. He bent over and came down on all fours, a wolf standing in the forest.

  His head swam. For a moment, he was unsteady on his legs and he scrabbled to hang on to consciousness. Then he gained his footing—and his equilibrium.

  Suddenly, everything was different. He would have said that the blood pumped with new purpose through his veins. But he had no blood. No veins. He only knew that he had been made for this.

  The wolf. The form he had not taken since that long ago fight with his cousin.

  How could he have forgotten this? How could he have gone without this pleasure for so long?

  Because he had been dead inside. And Quinn had changed everything.

  She was gone now. Gone to that other place where he could never reach her. But he had this. And if she came back, he would show her the gift she had given him.

  Because the pain of his longing for her had brought back the missing part of himself.

  He raised his head and howled—the cry of the wolf set free after so many years. He forgot that he was a ghost. Forgotthat his life had been cut off just before his prime.

  The spirit of the wolf seized him as no other power on earth could capture him. He sat up and raised his head for another joyful howl, letting the forest creatures know that he had returned to rule his territory. Then he bounded away from the place that Quinn called the portal. A ghost wolf claiming his heritage.

  QUINN brought herself up short. She shouldn’t be thinking about Caleb. She should be focused on getting to Sun Acres as quickly as she could. Well, quickly and safely, she amended. She could travel fast, but she must be constantly on guard for Baron’s soldiers.

  She wished she could ask Draden a question. Was the trail between here and Sun Acres clear? Or maybe there was no point in asking. He might think it was clear, and the situation could have changed. She could walk right into a trap.

  The land on Caleb’s side of the portal was wooded.

  Caleb’s side. That was an interesting way to put it. She’d known him only a few days, and already she was thinking of it as his world, when she could just as easily have referenced Logan.

  She didn’t like the implications. But she couldn’t focus on that now. She had to tune her mind and her senses to the dangers of her own world, if she wanted to get to Sun Acres in one piece.

  She faced a vast plain of ruined houses and larger buildings.It was a depressing landscape, but at least it gave her some cover. And Griffin had showed her the best way to get from the portal to the city.

  She moved quickly, stopping to sniff the air and listen for movement. As she approached the city from the south, she couldn’t help remembering the first time she had come here. She and Zarah had both been slaves, chained together and forced to walk all the way from White Flint. That had been Zarah’s home city. Quinn had been born free in the Preserve at Eden Brook. But it had been raided by soldiers from HammondTown who had captured Quinn and carried her off. Her life would have been one of drudgery, but the elders of Hammond Town discovered her psychic talents and sent her to school to develop her abilities. Then Hammond Town had been raided by White Flint, and her fortunes had changed again.

  That was how this world worked. City-states vying against each other for power and material possessions, including slaves. It was different on Caleb’s—no, on Logan’s side of the portal. The political units were much bigger. And althoughshe knew that there were some parts of Logan’s world that were at war, society in the United States was stable. Not like this place where you could start your life in one city as a freeborn citizen and end up a slave in another and another.

  She made good time as she ran across the badlands, stoppingto hide once when she spotted a contingent of soldiers hurrying on some mission. She couldn’t tell if they were Griffin’s troops, or Baron’s, but she knew it was better to stay out of their way.

  She stopped at the last bit of shelter before the city, the half-standing side of a ruined house. The hundred yards betweenherself and the city wall had been swept of debris, giving the lookouts on the parapet a clear view of anyone crossing the open space. That made the approach dangerous. But she had the safe passage that Griffin had given her, a bronze disk with a wolf’s image hanging on a chain around her neck. It was his symbol, because he was a werewolf— like Caleb. Well, not exactly like Caleb. There were more werewolves here than on the other side of the portal.

  She shaded her eyes from the sun. Usually there was a lot of traffic in and out of the city. But this morning the gate was closed, and she was the only person approaching from the badlands.

  Other travelers and merchants must know about the turmoilinside, and they were keeping their distance until order was restored.

  She watched the gate for several minutes. No one came out either, and she didn’t know how to interpret that. Had the guards from one faction or the other forbidden anyone to pass?

  Looking up to the open spaces in the crenellation at the top of the wall, she caught flashes of body armor.

  Soldiers were up there, ready to fire on anyone who approachedthe gate. She hoped they were Griffin’s men, but she had no way of knowing which side controlled the outer circle of the city.

  Her hand went to her throat, and she clutched the charm, holding it up so that the light glinted off it.

  She was sorry now that she hadn’t brought the fanny pack with the gun. Nobody here would be expecting to get shot with a bullet. But on the other hand, they wouldn’t know that it was a deadly weapon until she used it.

  With a feeling of resignation, she started toward the gate. She had taken only a few steps when movement caught the corner of her eye. She tried to duck back behind the wall. But it was already too late. Men had been hiding in the shadowsof another wrecked building, waiting to see who approachedthe city.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “WHO ARE YOU?” a gruff voice demanded.

  She looked at the man who had spoken and his two companions.They were roughly dressed and holding knives.

  Not military knives. The knives of thugs who took their chances out in the badlands.

  Great Mother, she was trapped by men who had no rules and no code of honor. And they could do anything with her that they wanted.

  Her eyes flicked to the city wall; it might as well be a millionmiles away. The soldiers up there could see her, but why should they risk themselves to help her?

  One of the thugs was barrel-chested, with a greasy blond hair. The other two were shorter, but with well-muscled bodies.One wore a cap. The other had dark hair.

  “Who are you?” the blond demanded.

  She considered her answer, trying to determine the safest course.

  Raising her chin, she said, “I am on an important mission for Griffin—one of the chief council members of the city. If you hurt me, you will answer to him.”

  Both of them stared at her with narrowed eyes. “Prove it,” the speaker said.

  “Draden sent for me.” She saw the man recognized the name. “And I have a talisman from Griffin. Under my shirt.”

  “Let’s see it,” the blond demanded.

  She considered it a good sign that he didn’t reach betweenher breasts to feel it but let her pull it out.

  She turned the charm so that the wolf winked in the sun.

  “That’s his safe passage,” the o
ne with the cap said.

  “Maybe she stole it.”

  “They told us to expect a woman,” the blond answered.

  She tried to follow the conversation and felt her head spinning. Who had told them to expect a woman?

  “Who are you?” she whispered.

  “Griffin’s soldiers. We were sent to meet you, but we couldn’t reveal ourselves too soon.”

  “I could have attacked you,” she snapped.

  The blond laughed. “And done what?”

  She heard the confidence in his voice. He was a trained fighter, and she would have been seriously injured if she’d tried to defend herself.

  Too bad Griffin hadn’t warned her about this reception committee. But there had been no way to get the message to her.

  “Why are you dressed like slavers?”

  “It’s safer out here if you blend in. This is a dangerous stretch of ground. We have to be careful about who passes. They could have sent a woman spy,” the one in the cap said.

  “Have things gotten that bad?”

  “Worse.” He raised his hand and signaled toward the wall. “I am called Dorber,” he said. He gestured toward the man with the cap. “This is Gred.”

  “And I am Tolan,” the dark-haired one added.

  “I’m glad to meet you,” she managed. They might not be outlaws, but they were still rough and dangerous.

  Gred kept his eyes on the gate. Dorber looked toward his right and his left. And Tolan kept turning to make sure no dangers were behind them.

  It was the longest walk of Quinn’s life. Relief flooded through her as they reached the shadow of the wall.

  The guards apparently knew the trio because the door opened immediately, but only wide enough for them to enter single file.

  Inside, three horses were waiting. Tolan stayed at the gate. Gred helped Quinn into the saddle, then mounted. He and Dorber rode on either side of her as they headed toward Griffin’s house.

  Quinn looked around. It was strange to be back in the city after living in Caleb’s world and visiting a place like Washington,D.C. The roughly paved streets felt hemmed in by the wood and stone houses and shops, which all looked small and primitive.

  This was a weekday, and she expected to see citizens goingabout their business. But the streets were almost empty. Apparently, people thought it was safer to stay inside.

  She wanted to ask questions, but her escort rode in silence,and she realized that they weren’t going to give anythingaway where the wrong ears might hear.

  Griffin’s great house was outside the commercial district. As the iron gate came into view, she thought of the first time she had come here—in a cart as a slave being brought to work in the kitchen.

  Her status was much different now. But she felt almost as uncertain as she had that first time. She didn’t know what had happened, but she knew it had to be something bad.

  They stopped and waited while the guards inside inspectedthem. Then the gate opened and a short, balding man stepped forward.

  It was Philip, who ran Griffin’s household. He had escortedher here that first time. Then he had been all business. Now he held out his arms in greeting as she dismounted.

  They had become friends, and she gave him a hug, glad to see someone familiar. But this wasn’t what she had expected.

  “Where are Griffin and Zarah?”

  “I’ll take you to them.”

  She bit back her questions as she followed him into the building and over to the family wing. Griffin’s quarters were on the first floor, but Philip led her to a narrow staircase, where a guard stood at attention. They climbed to the second-floor landing, which was guarded by another soldier.

  When he saw them, he stepped aside.

  Philip knocked on the door, and someone looked through a peephole before the hinges creaked.

  Then Griffin was standing before her, his dark hair tousledand his hard features etched with tension.

  “What’s wrong?” Quinn asked. “What happened?”

  He stepped onto the landing. “There was an assassination attempt last night.”

  “On you?”

  “No, they tried to kill Zarah.”

  Quinn gasped. “But she’s all right?

  The door opened again, and Zarah stepped out.

  Griffin whirled around. “I told you to stay inside.”

  “I was looking out the window. I saw Quinn cross the courtyard.”

  “I also told you to stay away from the window!” Griffin snapped.

  “I’m safe here.”

  “We thought you were safe in our quarters,” he answered, fear making his voice rough.

  “I’m sorry. I know you’re worried,” she murmured.

  “If anything happens to you . . .”

  Before he could finish the sentence, she reached for his hand, clasping her fingers tightly around his, and he turned to her. The look that passed between them melted Quinn’s heart.

  Once again she felt her envy flair. Then she silently remindedherself that someone had tried to kill her friend the night before.

  After squeezing her husband’s hand, Zarah let go and stepped forward, holding out her arms to Quinn. They embraced,two women who were closer than sisters. Once Zarah’s wavy blond hair cascading halfway down her back had been her most noticeable feature. Now the small bulge of her abdomen pressed against Quinn’s middle, capturing her attention.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened?”

  Griffin looked around as though he expected spies to poke their heads above the stair risers. “Come inside.”

  They stepped into a small apartment, and he closed and barred the door. He also walked to the window and closed the shutters.

  “This room is shielded from psychic probing.” Turning to face Quinn, he said, “We were in bed last night, and I heard a scuffle in the hall. I ran out to find one of the guards down. Then a man screamed in the bedchamber, and I knew the part with the guard had been to draw me away. Zarah had a knife under the pillow. The man Baron sent to kill her wasn’t expecting that. She stabbed him in the eye.”

  Quinn winced, her gaze shooting to her friend. “You did that?”

  “I’ve changed from that soft girl who was a pampered noblein White Flint.”

  “You were never soft. You were always brave. When that soldier tried to rape you on the way here, you hit him with the chain on your wrist.”

  Zarah nodded. They had been slaves together then. Tied up for the night and helpless to escape. That was one of the first memories that the two of them had shared.

  Griffin interrupted the conversation. “They are trying to strike at me through her. I want her out of danger. If this house isn’t safe, nowhere in Sun Acres is safe.”

  Zarah’s eyes turned watery. “I don’t want to go.”

  “I know,” Griffin answered, his voice gritty. Then he softenedhis tone and said it again. “I know.”

  “I want to stay with my husband.”

  “And would you endanger our baby?” he asked, his tone like a knife blade.

  Quinn watched them, aware that Griffin had played his trump card. Zarah would have to put the baby first.

  She gave her husband a fierce look. “That’s not fair, and you know it.”

  “Unfortunately. But I have to make you understand that you’re still in jeopardy, and so is our child.”

  “Then come with me.”

  “You know I have to settle things down here. If I leave, the city will descend into chaos.”

  The exchange grew rapid, and Quinn gathered that the two people involved were rehashing an old argument.

  “Let it fall into a heap of stones! What do you owe them?”

  “I want this city to be a better place.”

  “Baron doesn’t have your vision. He wants Sun Acres to stay the same. That’s why he attacked me.”

  “That doesn’t make him right and me wrong. Murder and assassination are the only tacti
cs he understands.”

  She sighed. “I know. So don’t stay here and risk your life.”

  “It won’t come to that.”

  “And you won’t leave.”

  “No. You know I can’t.”

  She bowed her head in defeat.

  He crossed to her and wrapped her in his arms. “But we’ll be together soon.”

  “How long?”

  His face turned grave. “I can’t say for sure. It depends on how quickly I can deal with Baron.”

  She laid her head against his shoulder, and he held her tenderly.Her arms tightened around him, and the embrace becamemore potent. If they’d been in their bedroom, she was sure that they would have started undressing each other.

  Quinn looked away. It was a very private moment, and she knew she was intruding. These two people loved each other with a passion that was so real it was impossible to hide. What was it like to find a man who cared that much for you? And you for him?

  Zarah had that. No matter what happened, she would alwayshave the knowledge of that love.

  Quinn savagely cut off the thought. She wasn’t going to send her mind down that path. Everything was going to work out. Zarah would be safe and Griffin would get the city back under control. And then the two of them would be together again.

  Griffin walked to the door and stepped onto the landing, where he issued terse orders before he returned.

  “Will you stay here with me?” Zarah asked.

  “I have to make arrangements. I’ll keep guards outside at all times. You try to get some rest.”

  Zarah nodded. But when Griffin had left, she made a dismissivesound. “Rest!”

  “Try. You have a long trip ahead of you.”

  There were two couches in the room and both women lay down, although neither of them could sleep. They talked in low voices, Zarah telling Quinn about the state of things in the city and Quinn talking about the world Zarah was going to visit.

  As they spoke, Quinn watched the window. Through the wooden shutters, she could see the light of the sun moving across the sky.

  When it was far to the west, Griffin came back with a tray of fruit and meat.

  “You should eat,” he said to both women. “We’ll be ready to leave soon.”