Keri Arthur - Beneath A Rising Moon

While he had no regrets about his actions, the reproach in her green eyes haunted him. He'd never been like René. He didn't like roughhouse tactics, found no thrill in fear. Yet tonight he'd tasted both and had enjoyed it. And it was something he would have to continue. He couldn't play the gentle, caring lover with this woman--not if he wanted to stop these murders sooner rather than later. He had to push her, and keep pushing her, until she could take no more.

He stopped at the door at the end of the hall and rapped his knuckles on the wood. A gruff voice bid him to enter. He walked inside and slammed the door shut. Zeke stood near the window, tall, broad and straight of spine, despite seeing more than a century pass him by. He turned as Duncan entered, one steel-grey eyebrow raised in query. "I would gather from your entrance that the meeting with the rangers did not go well?"

Duncan walked over to the bar and poured himself a stiff drink. "Quite the opposite. René's not a suspect, and they found skin and blood under the woman's fingernails, which they believe might belong to the killer."

"It was Mariata who was killed, wasn't it?" He nodded and downed his drink in one swift gulp. The liquid burned its way down his gullet and sat like a weight in his gut.

"Mariata liked pain--and liked inflicting it. I wouldn't be surprised if they find the flesh of more than one wolf under her nails."

Duncan cast a sharp glance his father's way. "You danced with her? Tonight?"

Zeke sighed and turned around. Scratches marred his shoulder blades. "I may be old but the fever still burns through my veins. She and I are old partners." Just what he needed to hear right now--especially with the rangers insisting on checking all family members for wounds. He poured himself another drink.

"Did you dance with any of the other victims?"

"No."

"And my brothers?"

"The first was one of Tye's regular mates, the third one of Kane's."

Tye the oldest of the four of them, Kane the youngest. René was born between him and Tye. He took another drink and felt the anger begin to slip away. He knew alcohol offered no real solutions, but right now it drowned the vague sense of self-loathing. Of that, he was glad. "Someone's targeting the lovers of you and your get."

"So it would seem."

"Any idea why?" He hesitated. "You haven't pissed off any females or their families of late, have you?"

His father's smile was wistful. "My wild days are behind me, I'm afraid. I'm more staid than many of my mates would wish."

But not too staid, if those marks were anything to go by. "Have you told many people I'm here to investigate the murders?"

Zeke shook his head. "None. News spreads fast in a tribe this size, and I didn't want to risk warning the killer--if indeed it is someone from our immediate pack."

"Then you'd better get these rooms swept for bugs, because someone knows."

"I did--yesterday." Zeke hesitated, dark eyes touched with concern. "Why would you think that?"

"Because I've been set up with a mate, and I think she's intending to keep a very close eye on me." Zeke moved to the bar and poured himself a drink. "So what are you going to do?"

He shrugged. "Nothing."

"I could take her off your hands. Keep her locked away and occupied."

The thought of his father going anywhere near Neva made his veins boil. She was his to deal with, and no one was going to touch her except him.

"I'll take care of her." Despite his best effort to remain calm, the hint of steel was evident in his voice.

Zeke raised an eyebrow. "Be wary of the bait, Son. It might just turn around and snag you."

"I know what I'm doing."

Zeke leaned a shoulder against the wall and regarded him with amusement. "So, what are you going to do with her--besides the obvious?"

"I'm going to force her to stay here for the next five days." He took another drink of whisky. "Then I'll push her, and keep pushing her, until she runs back to whoever it was who set her on me."

"The sort of wolf who's willing to profit from the dance is not one who would easily break."

"This one's new to the game. She'll break." And hopefully soon. He had no taste for the game he was about to play.

"And in the meantime?"

He raised his hand, refusing his father's offer to top- off his drink. "I'll start talking to people. See what I can dig up." If this was some sort of revenge killing aimed at his brothers, then someone, somewhere, had to know why. As his father had said, a tribe this size held no real secrets. " Did anything unusual happen before the first murder?"

"Not that I can remember. Of course, it's hard to keep a finger on every pulse."

Duncan snorted softly. The day his father didn't know exactly what was going on would be the day death claimed him. And the fact he truly had no idea why these murders were happening only made them all the more mystifying. "You've talked to my brothers?"

"As have you. I dare say the responses we got were the same."

They were--he'd surreptitiously listened in. René's shields were not as strong as they should be. "Will you be able to get a copy of the autopsy report? We'll see if Mariata's varies any from the previous three." Zeke nodded. "You do realize you may also be in their sights?"

"If that were the case, why put a watch on me? The mere fact that they have suggests they consider me some danger."

Zeke snorted softly. "Even the most insane wolf alive would consider you a danger."

He raised an eyebrow, a smile touching his lips. "And here I was thinking I've calmed down since my wild days."

"You have," his father said. "But it makes no difference, because what you do now you do with a clear head." He thought of Neva, of the reproach in her beautiful eyes. "I do what I have to do," he said, with a trace of bitterness.

"I know. And that's precisely why you're considered so dangerous by just about everyone who knows you." Duncan finished the last of his whisky. It did little to erase the sour taste in his mouth. "When do you think you'll be able to get your hands on that autopsy report?" Zeke shrugged. "Tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. I don't want to push my source too hard, or he'll start getting a little jumpy."

"Then I'll be back here tomorrow afternoon." He strode from the room and made his way through the shadow-filled house. But when he reached the pavilion, he wasn't surprised to discover Neva had fled.

Neva rose with the dawn and took a long, hot, scented bath, hoping to erase any scent of Duncan that might linger on her skin.

But she couldn't so easily erase the throbbing in her body, the needy ache that flicked fire through her veins. She wouldn't be surprised if his ears were burning right now, because she'd cursed him long and loud during the night as she'd tossed and turned, trying to find sleep. And yet she knew relief would not come tonight. Not if their second mating was any indication of his intentions. She sighed. That was exactly what she'd wanted--a quick, passionless rutting, easily forgotten once this phase of the moon was over. She could hardly complain now that she'd gotten her wish. And she probably wouldn't be, if he hadn't first given her a glimpse how truly extraordinary their mating could be.

She closed her eyes and pushed him from her thoughts. His pack belonged to the night, and that's where all thought of him should remain. She would not let him wreck her days as well.

Besides, she had far more important people to worry about.

She reached out, carefully touching her sister's thoughts. Though there was no response, the sensation of death hovering all too close had fled. And pictures were beginning to unroll through the darkness of her sister's mind, like fractured images of a violent movie viewed through a broken projector. Relief surged, and tears blurred Neva's vision. Savannah was going to live. And she was beginning to remember what had happened. Maybe consciousness wasn't that far off after all. Neva hoped so. She didn't like this endless silence. Didn't know if she'd want to go on without having Sav's warm, cheerful presence in her mind.