Dark Moon Falls: Volume 2

by Bella Roccaforte

  That is, until the banging on the door rattled her. At first, she just stood there, paralyzed with fear that Damien had found her, her feet rooted in place as she stared at the door, the wood vibrating from the person’s pounding.

  “Deacon! Deacon, open this damn door,” a man’s voice screamed from the other side of the door to her room.

  Deacon, not Purity. She took a deep breath. The voice also didn’t sound like Damien or anyone else she recognized.

  “Deacon, please, this is ridiculous,” the man’s voice said. “We need to talk.” A crack in the voice, a sadness behind the words. “Open the damn door.”

  Purity peeked out the peephole to find a smaller man, thin, frail almost it seemed, a cane in one hand as he rapped it against the door. He had graying hair cut short, and the darkest eyes—Deacon’s eyes.

  With a deep breath, Purity tucked the long T-shirt she wore down even further and opened the door. “Deacon isn’t here,” she said, her head tilted to the side as she crossed her arms, holding the towel in front of her to hide the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra. “Can I help you with something?”

  The man leaned on his cane with both hands as he shook his head, his gaze turned toward the ground. She watched his shoulders rise with a heavy sigh. “Damn,” he spat at the ground. He took a deep breath as he looked back up into her eyes. “When will he be back? Do you know?”

  She gave a weak shrug. “He said he was going after the best breakfast sandwiches in town,” she told the man in front of her. “I’m afraid he didn’t tell me where that was exactly or how long it would take him.”

  The man nodded, his lips curved in a small smile. “Delight’s Diner. It’ll take him a little while if he just left. They’re good, but slow. Worth the wait, however.” The older man cocked his head to the side as he studied her. “And who are you to my son?”

  Her brows rose as she nodded, the truth of what she had guessed confirmed. “You’re Deacon’s father then,” she said, opening the door wider. “You’re welcome to come in and wait. I’m Purity. Your son is actually helping me through something.”

  He nodded as he crossed the threshold. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?” He glanced around the motel room, and she was sure he noticed only one bed had been slept in last night.

  She felt the blush warm her cheeks as she closed the door. “Can I offer you some coffee while you wait?”

  He turned and made no apology of raking her with his gaze, only where other men would check her out, he seemed to be sizing her up. “Black, please. No sugar. How long have you known my son?” He moved over to one of the chairs around the table, sitting down, but still keeping both hands on his cane as he watched her prepare the coffee.

  She bit her lower lip as she filled a cup with hot water to make his coffee. She worried about how much to tell him, about crossing some line Deacon had with his father. The story Dara told her about how Deacon left Dark Moon Falls the first time still filled her mind, making her wonder if Deacon’s father was there to welcome his son home or to add to his misery. She sucked in a deep breath as she turned around, hands behind her gripping the countertop. “To be honest, we met a couple of nights ago in Summermire. I was in some trouble, and Deacon stepped in to help.”

  Deacon’s father arched an eyebrow at her, his lips turned up into a smirk. “You do know I’m a wolf, right? Even after the shower I can tell you just finished, I can smell my son all over you.” He held a hand up, stopping her from saying anything. “It’s none of my business. I’m here to see my son, that’s all.” He cocked his head a little, smiling at her. “Besides, I’m glad to see he has someone in his life. I’ve been worried about him.” His expression softened as the buzzer for the coffee went off. “How’s he doing?”

  She carried his coffee over to him, setting it on the table beside him as she took the other chair. “He seems to be doing well.” She gave a slight shrug. “From what I can tell, he’s been pretty wrapped up in helping me. I know he’s wanting to get over to see you.” She hoped knowing that would lighten the man’s worry.

  He smiled at her. “I’m sure he says that, but I highly doubt it’s true.” He shook his head. “To be honest, I’m surprised he even returned to Dark Moon Falls. This town holds nightmares for him, nightmares not of his doing.” He took a deep breath as he reached out, taking his coffee cup in his hand. “I failed him back then, too lost in my own grief and feeling of failure to see he suffered just as much. By returning, I hoped he had put all that behind him, but by avoiding me, it’s obvious he still carries some of the guilt that made him leave in the first place.”

  She leaned forward on the table, her hands clasped in front of her. “He blames himself for his sister’s death,” she said, nodding. “A friend of his told me about what happened. I think that’s why he stepped in to help me. I was being attacked, and Deacon stopped it. He brought me here to keep me safe.”

  Deacon’s father sipped his coffee, his smile evident around the rim. As he set the cup back on the table, he said, “I’m sure that was part of it, but from what I can scent in this room, it’s not all of it.” He glanced over at her, still smiling. “I’m sure his wolf had something to do with it as well.”

  A nervousness filled her, making her squirm in her seat a little. He was the second person to say that to her about Deacon’s wolf. She chose to say nothing about what Deacon’s father inferred. “I’m sorry about your daughter and wife,” she said instead, not knowing what else to say. “That couldn’t have been easy, Mr. McKay.”

  He smiled. “Please, call me Cal, and it was hard. Even harder when Deacon wouldn’t even sit with us at his mother’s funeral.” Cal stared at the wall, and Purity was sure he saw that day a few years ago at his wife’s funeral. “He stood at the edge of the cemetery, alone. I meant to go to him, but by the end of the service, when I turned around, he was already gone.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I wrote to him, but he never replied. I tried calling at first, but eventually, the number went to someone else.” He shrugged. “Eventually, I just gave up, hoping he would reach out to me when he was ready.”

  Purity reached across the table, placing her hand on the man’s wrist and squeezing. “I’m sure his coming back to Dark Moon Falls is the beginning of him reaching out.”

  He smiled at her, nodding but saying nothing. Instead, he picked up his coffee cup and took another sip.

  She reached for her cup to take a sip when another knock came at the door, this one softer, more normal in nature. Purity smiled as she leaped from her seat. “Deacon probably has his hands full and can’t open the door. Looks like your wait is over.”

  She bounced toward the door, eager to see father and son reunited, hoping it would be everything Cal hoped it would be. Purity opened the door, and that was the last thing she remembered.

  Except her scream.

  That echoed in her mind over and over.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Deacon pulled up to the front of the motor lodge, his mood lighter than it had ever been since the death of his sister, since he ran away to join the Army. Last night was wonderful, just lying there, his arms wrapped around Purity, her flesh pressed against his as they basked in the intensity that was them at the moment. They made love over and over, long into the night, until both collapsed on the bed exhausted. When they woke, they started all over again until his stomach growled of hunger drowned out the howling of the wolf within him. He knew what his wolf wanted, but even as much as Deacon already cared for Purity, he wasn’t ready to make that major of a move yet.

  As he shifted the car into park, he noticed the front door of his room slightly ajar. Panic gripped him as he shoved the car door open, rushing out into the bright Friday morning, breakfast sandwiches forgotten. “Purity!” he yelled as he hopped up onto the walkway in front of the rooms and shoved the door the rest of the way open. “Purity, are you in here?”

  A groan came from the floor between the beds, and Deacon rushed over, fear tightening
around his heart. He should have known better than to leave her alone. Damn it, she better be all right. “Puri...”

  Dad? “Dad!” Deacon dropped down beside his father, who laid facedown, a cane at his feet. “Dad, are you all right?”

  The older McKay groaned as Deacon rolled him over, his gray hair a mess, a gash on his forehead trickling blood down into his eyes. “Deacon?” The man’s voice was a harsh whisper, more of a moan than actual words. “They took her. Some black man and a couple of goons.” He tried to get up, and Deacon placed a hand under his father’s arm to help him sit on the bed. “I tried to stop them, but everything happened too fast.” He shook his head, groaned, and immediately stopped, his hand going to his temple.

  “Was she all right?” Deacon knew who had abducted Purity, knew without a doubt. Damien said he’d come get what he thought was his. Deacon cursed that he allowed his guard down, and Purity paid the price.

  “She was hurt, but screaming up a storm,” his father said. Sirens sliced the morning. Cal pointed to the door, his lips a pained twist. “They haven’t been gone long. At least, I don’t think they’ve been gone long.” His shoulders slumped. “I may have blacked out. They’re lucky I wasn’t a few years younger, the fuckers.”

  Tires screeched outside, and Deacon could tell the sirens were right outside his door. He glanced back at his father. “Are you all right if I leave you a moment? I’m sure that’s either Jag or Rushton. I need to get them started on finding Purity.”

  His father waved him to the door. “Go, go. Time is important. Go save your girl.”

  Your girl. Deacon’s stomach clenched that he hadn’t been there to keep Damien from taking her in the first place. The second time he had been too late.

  By the time he made it outside, Deputy Ralph Rushton had left his sheriff’s car and was heading for the open door to Deacon’s room. “What’s going on here?” He had his hands on his waist as he paused and stared at Deacon. “We got a call about some...”

  “A woman was just kidnapped,” Deacon said, cutting the deputy off as he finished the distance between them. “My father’s inside, hurt, but Damien Croft, a strip club owner from Summermire, busted into my room and abducted Purity Atwood, a woman staying with me, and who he beat up two nights ago outside his club. I told Elias about everything last night.” Might as well head off as many questions as possible. “My father says they haven’t been gone long, so they might still be nearby.” He took a deep breath. “Damien threatened to hurt Purity. He’s already trashed her apartment back in Summermire, so I highly doubt it’s an empty threat.”

  “And did you report the break-in to the Summermire deputies?” Ralph pulled a notepad from his duty belt and started scribbling notes. Before Deacon could answer the question, the deputy also called in the possible kidnapping. When the call was over, he turned back to Deacon waiting for an answer.

  Deacon shook his head. “No, there wasn’t much point. We couldn’t prove it was Damien; we just knew.”

  Ralph nodded as he scribbled in his notepad, his brown hair swishing across his forehead.

  A shuffling behind him made Deacon turn around as his father wobbled out of the motel room, one hand on the doorframe for support, his other hand—a shaking hand, Deacon noticed—gripping his cane. What is he even doing here? “Dad, you should be sitting down,” he said as he moved to help his father.

  The older McKay glared at him. “Don’t be trying to boss me around now.” He shook his head as he motioned for Deacon to pay attention to the deputy. “I’m fine. Have they sent someone after the bastard who took Purity?”

  Deacon turned to Ralph, the same question on his mind.

  Ralph took a deep breath as he moved over to Deacon’s father. “Cal, you doing all right? Need me to call the paramedics?”

  Cal rolled his eyes. “Stop acting like I’m an invalid. I’m fine, just battered a bit. Took three of them. Cowards.”

  Deacon just shook his head. Some things never changed. Turning his attention back to Ralph, he asked, “Have you sent someone after Damien?”

  Ralph pressed his lips into a thin line as he reached for his walkie talkie to check on the progress of the help he requested.

  Deacon’s wolf growled within. He needed his own help. Yanking his cell phone out of his back pocket, Deacon slid through his contacts until he came to Logan’s number. It was time to call in the troops.

  Once Ralph finished calling for help, he moved over to Cal, asking Deacon’s father what happened. By the time he finished questioning the older McKay, Logan pulled up with Madison, Morgan in the car behind him. A third car pulled in as well, and Deacon smiled when he noticed Dara behind the wheel. One of the others must have called the witch, because Deacon didn’t think to call her, his circle since his return to Dark Moon Falls had been kept small, since he didn’t want many people knowing he was in town. He glanced over his shoulder at his father standing with the deputy. Of course, news in Dark Moon Falls traveled fast.

  “How long have they been gone?” Logan asked as he left his car. The others were out, and everyone headed for Deacon.

  “About forty-five minutes now,” Deacon told them. “Give or take.”

  “Any idea which way they went?” Madison asked.

  Dara walked over, throwing her arms around Deacon’s neck and squeezing the shit out of him. “God, how I’ve missed you,” she said as she hugged him. She pushed him away, swatting his arm. “You shouldn’t have allowed me to find out you were in town through Joy at the café.” She took his arms in her hands, her expression turning serious. “Any word, yet?”

  Deacon shook his head, lips pressed into a thin line. “Not yet.” He watched as Morgan shifted, his bones popping and snapping, arms and legs shrinking down to those of his giant black wolf, hands and feet turning into paws, his nose stretching into his wolf’s muzzle, which he immediately stuck to the ground as he started sniffing. Tracking. Deacon ran a hand through his dark hair, clutching it in a fist as he watched Morgan’s wolf sniff around. Damn it, I should have thought of doing that. I could have already had that asshole’s trail.

  Dara nodded. Gesturing to his room, she asked, “Mind if I take a look inside? I might be able to detect something.” She shrugged, still holding onto his arm. “I might be able to do a locator spell to help us.”

  “Yeah, yeah, go ahead, whatever you need,” he said, giving her a weak smile. “We have to find the bastard.” He took a deep breath, his wolf growling within him. “We have to find her before it’s too late.”

  “We will,” Dara said. “We will.” She nodded, squeezing his upper arm before she left his side and made her way into the motel room.

  He watched her disappear inside and then turned his attention back to Morgan as the wolf sniffed around the edges of the motor lodge, running in several different directions, sniffing some more, pacing, going over certain areas two or three times before he returned to Deacon, shifting back. The man’s lips were pressed into a grim line as he took a deep breath through his nose. He didn’t look like he had good news.

  “She got into a car,” Morgan said, hands on his hips. “The car was parked and then headed toward the edge of town.” He took another deep breath, his expression grave. “I could scent blood, Deacon. Lots of blood.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Her entire face screamed in agony. She wasn’t sure how many times Damien smacked her around on the way to his car, grabbing her by the hair and dragging her from the floor of the motel room, out the door, and across the asphalt to the waiting car. Three other men accompanied him, one breaking in the door as the others rushed Deacon’s father, knocking his cane out from under him as they shoved him to the floor, pummeling him in the process. She remembered seeing blood on the man’s face as they shoved him between the beds, knocking him back down every time he tried to get up. He fought, however, the older man doing his best against the younger, thicker men who continued to punch and kick him as Damien threw Purity around the room, punching her
in the stomach, backhanding her. She screamed. Her throat burned with how much she screamed.

  The car hit a bump, bouncing her from where she huddled on the floorboard in the backseat of whatever car Damien stuffed her in, jarring her muscles and making her wince with agony. Dried blood caked her nose, smeared across her face. She could tell her right eye was swollen even though she could still open it a little and look out. Damien sat in the front seat along with one of his men, and two other men sat on either side of her, making sure she didn’t try to get up so people saw her. She tried once, when she first got into the car, tried to get up and scramble out the door before they closed it, but they hit her just as hard as Damien struck her on the way to the car. She never tried to get up again. She couldn’t take another beating, though she feared what awaited her whenever they made it to where Damien took her. He promised her he’d find her, make her pay for the humiliation, make her pay for what her sister did to him, the money she owed him. He kept his promise.

  Another bump bounced her, making her cry out. The men beside her just laughed. She assumed Damien was taking her back to Summermire, back to the strip club. She’d be dancing again. Or worse.

  She clenched her eyes, tightening her body against the jostling of the ride. With her eyes closed, she saw Deacon’s father, Cal, falling between the beds, one of the men yanking Cal’s cane from his hands and striking him across the back with it. There was nothing she could do to help him, and he did nothing to stop the men from beating him and everything to spur them on, threatening the other men, promising vengeance of his own if they didn’t just leave.