Untamed (Dark Moon Shifters #2)

by Bella Jacobs

  “Atlas is why I’m here. And why the woman in the bedroom is here.” Leda crosses to the picnic table. “Now sit down and shut up. The faster I bring you up to date, the sooner I can get out of here. I need to be home before nightfall. We’re still running double guard patrols.”

  Maybe it’s the reminder of how much the bear kin lost, or maybe Luke simply has the sense to realize when he’s encountered an unstoppable force, but after a beat he exhales sharply, crosses the glen in four long strides, and hops up to sit on the table. “Talk,” he snaps.

  Leda mutters something under her breath about wolves, as I sit beside Luke and cast a worried gaze Kite’s way. But for once he doesn’t smile or let down his walls to let me know what he’s feeling.

  Quite the contrary. He’s shielding so hard I can’t tell what’s going on, leaving me every bit as blindsided as Luke when he says, “The night that I took Wren from her house, the night we went into the river… When we thought Sierra died…” He exhales sharply. “She didn’t. Atlas fished her out of the water.”

  “Oh God,” I murmur, my hand coming to cover my mouth. I’ve never met Atlas in person, but what I’ve seen of him in Dust’s vision-sharing and in my dreams is more than enough to send dread twisting through my insides.

  Kite’s throat works. “He tortured her. We’re not sure for how long. She says it was at least a few days, but it could have been longer. The pain made her lose track of time.”

  “And lose most of a limb while she was at it,” Leda adds, her eyes glittering. “The sick fuck started with her fingers, one every few hours. He cut off all five, then her hand, and then her arm up to her elbow before she gave in and agreed to help him find Wren.”

  Acid laps at the back of my throat. “I can’t blame her. I don’t blame her.”

  “But that’s how they found us, right?” Luke says, his voice low. “At the reservation. Those monsters and whoever was shooting from the vehicles on the road.”

  Leda nods soberly. “Sierra said she smuggled Atlas into resistance headquarters. He got the information about your mission he needed and then slaughtered everyone.”

  “But not her. Not Sierra.” The lilt in Luke’s tone makes his suspicions clear.

  For once, I can’t fault him for it. Her survival, when so many other highly trained people were no match for Atlas, is suspect. “He’s right. Like I said, I don’t blame her. I’m sure I wouldn’t last long in the face of torture, but we can’t trust her. She shouldn’t be here.”

  “Atlas left her alive because she bears the mark,” Leda says. “Of a potential Fata mate. He was going to add her to his harem, but she managed to get away. The second she was free, she came straight to the reservation to warn us.”

  “She was too late,” Kite adds. “But she tried. Tore through the skin on her paws, she was running so fast.”

  “Give her a medal, then,” Luke says. “But you shouldn’t have told your sister where we were. You’ve fucked every one of us, Kite. None of us are safe now.”

  “Like I said, he didn’t tell me jack,” Leda shoots back. “I’m Kite’s cub-mother. I could track him down anywhere in the world, no matter how hard he tried to hide.”

  “It’s like a godmother,” Kite explains. “But with a built-in blood-tie GPS.”

  “Which is why, as soon as I find a capable replacement to take over for me on the force, I’m going into hiding.” Leda’s delivery is as no-nonsense as ever, but I can feel the regret beneath her resolve. She doesn’t want to leave her people, but she wants to risk being tortured into revealing her brother’s location even less. “But I had to bring Sierra to you first. Yes, it’s a risk, and she’s been through hell, but she can help you.”

  “She’s been to Atlas’s stronghold,” Kite says. “Several times. And she’s sure, once she’s back in the area, she’ll recognize the secret path to get in.”

  “Or she could follow along at home,” Luke says. “Hook her up to us via an untraceable signal while she’s locked away somewhere safe. She can tell us if we’re getting close. We don’t have a traitor along for the road trip. Everybody wins.”

  “Only shifters who have already passed through the portal to Atlas’s realm can pass through again without him. Then she can open the gate from the inside,” Kite explains. “Without her, we’re not getting in. Maybe we’ll be able to find another way in before go-time, but until we do, Sierra is our best bet.”

  I chew my bottom lip, not liking this any more than Luke does. “It still feels wrong. I understand the logic in what you’re saying, but it’s too dangerous. She’s betrayed us once before. Who’s to say she won’t do it again?”

  “I do.” Leda crosses to stand in front of Luke and me, shifting her steady gaze between his face and mine. “That’s my kin gift. I can see a person’s truest, innermost self. Their core being. Sierra’s soul is clear. All she wants to do is make things right. To put our planet back on course and Wren on the Fata throne where she belongs. I’d bet my life on it.”

  “But you’re not betting your life. You’re betting ours,” Luke says.

  Leda nods. “You’re right. Ultimately, it has to be your choice. But I’ve talked this through with my mother a hundred times since she told me what was really going on with you five last week. We dug through every scrap of information we could find on Atlas and his whereabouts. No one has ever found the portal on the other side of his killing fields, let alone gotten inside his castle. Sierra’s been through hell, but she’s willing to go back for you. For all of us. I think that’s something you should consider before you dismiss how valuable she could be.”

  Luke holds her gaze before turning to Kite. “You know more about the fairy tale shit than I do. Does what she’s saying check out? Is Sierra really our best shot?”

  “Probably our only shot.” Kite props his hands low on his hips, his lightly-whiskered jaw working back and forth. “But we should assume there’s a chance Leda was followed, no matter how careful she tried to be. Which means we’ve got to make tracks. Now. Get new wheels, swap out the license plate, and get off the radar. So, we have to make this call fast. We can’t debate for hours, and we can’t wait for Dust and Creedence.”

  His words send anxiety flaring to life in my chest. I don’t want to leave without Dust and Creedence—splitting up is dangerous for all of us—but Kite’s right.

  “All right.” I sit up straighter, my hands curling into fists on my thighs. “I want to see her. Get my own read on where she is emotionally. Then we’ll vote.”

  “Sounds good.” Kite arches a brow Luke’s way. “Agreed?”

  Luke grunts. “I get a vote? Even though I’m not part of the in-crowd? I’m not going to be there when you cross the killing fields to kill the goblin king or whatever mystical quest shit you two are up to after we part ways. I’m here to get Wren battle ready and then I’m gone.”

  “Well, then, you might be with us for a long time,” I snap, losing my patience with his “Can’t Be Bothered to Care About Anyone but Myself” bullshit. “Because you know how much I suck at fighting. And dodging. And climbing things. And everything else I’m supposed to be able to do in order to defend myself. So, cut the passive aggressive crap and tell us if you’re on board with the plan to talk to Sierra and vote after. M’kay?”

  Leda snorts in what sounds like muffled laughter.

  I expect Luke to lose it. Instead, he smiles, and his head bobs slowly. “Nice. Now if we can get you in touch with that anger in training, we’ll have you ready to kick ass in two, three…maybe five years, tops.”

  I start to demand an answer, not a backhanded compliment, when Luke adds, “I’ll talk to her and vote after, but I’m not going to pull any punches. We have enough tender-hearted people spraying empathy all over the place around here. Someone has to ask the hard questions.”

  “Don’t be cruel,” I warn. “She’s been through enough. I’m not sure I trust her, either, but there’s no reason to be cruel. Ever.”

  Luke’
s eyes narrow. “That is where you and I will always disagree, Princess. But I’m not going to kick this girl when she’s down. I’m a realist, not an asshole.”

  My lips pucker and shift to the side, and Luke chuckles, a silky rumble that makes my already aching muscles feel squishier. “Point taken, Princess. But in my defense, you can be a fucking handful.”

  I am not a handful. I am as far from a handful—let alone a fucking handful—as it’s possible to get. But before I can defend myself, there’s a shift in the wind. The cool, early summer breeze goes hot and smoky, coming in sharp gusts from the north instead of easy wisps from the west.

  Instantly, my heart lifts, and my shoulders relax away from my ears.

  They’re here. Dust is back. Creedence, too. I can feel the hum of his energy beneath the wind from Dust’s wings.

  I vault off the picnic table, hurrying down the trail toward the clearing with Luke, Leda, and Kite close behind. It feels like they’ve been gone so much longer than a day. There’s so much to tell them, and I’ll feel so much better making decisions as five instead of three.

  I may be the only irreplaceable member of our crew, but I want all of us to have a voice.

  But when I reach the clearing, I draw up short, stumbling to a stop several feet from the center of the glen, where Dust and Creedence are pulling on their clothes.

  They aren’t alone. There’s someone with them. Someone who, judging by the feel of her energy, is sick. Very sick.

  And very familiar.

  “Carrie Ann.” Her name rips from my throat as I break into a run, rushing to where she’s lying, fevered and delirious, on a bed of pine needles.

  Chapter 10

  Dust

  After the others fill us in on the latest crisis, Luke, the unlikeliest of heroes, offers to carry Carrie Ann up to the room. While he’s at it, he suggests leaving both her and Sierra here while we hit the road, but he helps.

  Carefully.

  Gently.

  It gives me a spark of hope that things with the wolf might turn out in the end. Even with a secret weapon with knowledge of the monster’s lair in our corner, if we can’t win him over to our side before we face Atlas, the odds won’t be in our favor.

  Back in the day, Sierra and I were constantly butting heads, both of us too stubborn to give an inch when we were certain our way was the only way, but having a friend come back from the dead changes a person.

  It has changed me, that’s for damned sure.

  The moment we step into the room and I see Sierra—smaller, frailer, missing part of her arm, but still with that crazy spiked black hair and that passion for the cause in her eyes—I cross to the bed and pull her into my arms. She resists for a moment, but only a moment, before sagging against my shoulder with a weary sigh. “I’m sorry, Dust. I’m so sorry. I tried to down the tablet, but he took it. He’s so fucking strong. And everywhere. All at once.”

  “You did the best you could. There’s no doubt in my mind about that.” I insist, rubbing a hand in circles on her back.

  If Sierra had taken her emergency tablet, the one all resistance operatives carry to make certain we won’t be tortured into revealing our secrets, she would be dead right now. And I can’t wish her dead, not even to wish the bears we lost alive again.

  Especially since her sacrifice might not have made a difference.

  Now that Atlas knows he’s been hunting the wrong girl for two decades, he won’t stop until Wren is dead and the rest of us along with her.

  “Celeste is dead,” she whispers, her voice breaking.

  I wince and hug her closer. Celeste, my mentor and boss, was Sierra’s lover. They’d been planning a wedding for the spring.

  “I tried to warn her,” Sierra continues tightly, “to warn them all. But that thing was in my fucking head. I couldn’t say no to him when he got like that, no matter how hard I tried.”

  “How did you get away?” Luke asks as he draws the covers over an unconscious Carrie Ann, who he’s settled into the other bed. I suppose it’s just as well we’re going back on the run—this room is getting more crowded by the minute.

  Sierra pulls away from me, crossing her arm and bandaged stump at her chest as she hunches over her crossed legs. “He left me alone at that park, the one by the water, where you stopped on your way to the reservation.”

  Wren sits down on the mattress on Sierra’s other side. “You were there?”

  Sierra nods. “Hiding under the fucking trashcan not five feet from you guys, but I couldn’t make a sound until Atlas let me out of that mind-grip he gets on people. But the second he flew off, I went after you. I tried like hell to catch up, but he’d infected me with something, and I had to keep stopping every few minutes to get sick.”

  “She was dangerously dehydrated by the time she reached us,” Leda confirms. “For the first twenty-four hours, I wasn’t sure she was going to make it.”

  “He uses biological warfare?” Wren shakes her head, looking horrified. She keeps telling me she understands what we’re up against, but I’m not so sure.

  If she did, she wouldn’t be surprised by that.

  By anything.

  “He becomes the bacteria, mama,” Sierra says, the shadows beneath her eyes darkening as she tips her chin closer to her chest. “He can become anything he wants. And not even just one thing at a time. He splits himself into pieces. Say, maybe eighty percent of him is back at his castle with his creepy soldiers, and the rest is flying around the world as a cockroach or whatever, stirring shit up.” Her lip curls. “But he fucked up with me. I’ve always had one hell of an immune system. By the morning after he flew off, I’d already shit him out and was on the mend.”

  I clear my throat, and Sierra turns my way, sadness flooding her eyes. “I missed that. It’s crazy what you miss, like your judgmental sniffing and throat-clearing when you think I’m being crass.”

  “I’m just glad you’re okay,” Wren says. “Leda told us about the secret path and the spelled entry. You sure you feel up to helping us get in?”

  Sierra’s eyes narrow. “Yes. But we can’t go in unprotected. We’re going to need boosted immune systems, charms against bodily invasion, and every trick up your fancy shifter sleeve, girl. Combat training, weapons, and business, as usual, ain’t gonna cut it.”

  “Does that mean I can skip sparring with Luke?” Wren smiles, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

  Sierra’s brows lift. “When I say we’re going to need all the help we can get, I mean all the fucking help we can get. You never know what’s going to save your life. Could be that right hook you pick up in training. Could be your body’s talent for explosive diarrhea.”

  Wren nods. “I’ll get to work on both, then.”

  Sierra makes a rusty, coughing sound that it takes me a moment to realize is a laugh. A moment later she buries her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she says in a thick voice, “Sorry. I lose it over the stupidest shit lately.”

  I rest a hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right.” She leans into me, and I draw her close. But this time I don’t stop at physical comfort. I drop my walls, letting my kin gift free, wrapping us both in a veil of illusion.

  A sharp intake of breath from Wren and a “Where did they go?” from Creedence, who’s leaning silently against the far wall, assure me the test was a success.

  “I had to check,” I tell Sierra as I withdraw the cloaking shield. “Just in case.” I meet Wren’s wide eyes across the bed. “If someone were tracking her with a kin gift, I wouldn’t have been able to cloak her with mine. She’s clean. Magically, anyway.”

  “And I swept her with my wand the day she showed up and before we left home this morning,” Leda adds. “No technological tracking devices, either.”

  Wren touches gentle fingers to Sierra’s knee. “It’s not personal. I hope you understand that. We just can’t afford to take any chances right now.”

  Sierra nods, her gaze resigned. “I get it. If I were you, I wouldn
’t trust me, either. I betrayed you. It doesn’t matter if I lost most of an arm first. I was tested, and I failed.”

  “You didn’t fail,” Wren says. “You were human.”

  “But I’m not human,” Sierra says, her eyes blazing. “I’m forest kin. We’re faithful, trustworthy, loyal to the bitter end. It’s who we are. And I betrayed all of that to save my own stupid life.” She swallows hard, her throat working as she adds, “I wouldn’t have had the guts to show my face to any of you if I weren’t the only one with a chance of getting you through the portal. You don’t have to like me or trust me, just use me. That’s why I’m here. And on the off chance you find someone else capable of taking my place, I’m happy to step aside, get out of your lives for good.”

  “No one wants that,” Kite rumbles from across the room, his voice thick with emotion. He was running the mission when Sierra was lost, and I imagine he’s feeling his share of guilt for what happened to his friend and partner. “We’re glad you’re here and grateful for your help.”

  “But we should get on the road.” Luke motions toward the bed, where Carrie Ann is muttering softly to herself in her sleep. “You could cloak her, too, right?”

  I nod in response.

  Luke shifts his attention to Leda. “Can you give her a sweep with your wand? Make sure she’s clean before we step outside to vote on who’s coming and who’s staying?”

  Leda starts toward the door. “Yeah. Let me grab it from the trunk.”

  I stand, ready to make the case for taking both women along with us—Carrie Ann until I can arrange for transport to England, and Sierra for the foreseeable future—when Sierra’s fingers close around my wrist.

  “Chain me up,” she says softly, for my ears only. “Lock me in a cage if you have to, if that’s what it takes to get the others on board. I have to come with you, Dust. I have to do something to make this better, or I’ll never forgive myself. I was there the morning after you left the reservation.” Her dark eyes glitter. “I saw them. The bodies. The kids. I can’t… I know nothing can bring them back, but I have to tip the scales. I have to make that monster pay. I don’t care if I die in the process.”