Beneath a Rising Moon

  René opened his eyes, a smile twitching his lips. “What

  do you think I was doing?”

  “And your mate?”

  “Frightened, but okay.” He grimaced. “I doubt she’ll

  ever dance with me again, though. Reckons I’m dangerous

  to be around.”

  “You’re dangerous to be around even when you’re not

  getting shot.”

  “True.” Amusement touched his mouth but quickly

  fled. “I never heard them approach. Never smelled them.”

  “Which means they probably had a long range rifle.

  Where were you when it happened?”

  “In the summer house.”

  “Where, exactly?”

  “Sitting on the seat, back to the outside fence, with a

  wet and willing wolf sitting snugly on my lap.”

  The shooter had to have been in the trees beyond the

  wall. If he’d been in one of the trees close to the summer

  house, René would surely have heard him. Or, at the very

  least, smelled him. “Martin told me they found tracks.”

  “Apparently. I was pretty out of it for a while there, so

  I can’t really tell you much of what went on after I was

  shot.”

  “Then tell me what was going on between you and

  Betise.”

  Contempt was evident in René’s dark gaze. “That bitch

  is nothing but trouble.”

  “She claims you made promises you’ve failed to live

  up to.”

  His brother snorted. “The only promise I’ve failed to

  keep was the threat to knock her out if she didn’t stop

  harassing me.”

  “So you’ve done nothing more than dance with her?”

  “Three times. Which was two times too many, I’ve since

  discovered.”

  Duncan frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “The woman’s certifiable. After the second dance she

  was talking like we had a future together. By the third,

  she was acting territorial and talking about having kids.”

  “You never gave her reason to believe you might have

  cared for her?”

  René snorted. “Care for her? Good grief, have you

  smelled the woman?”

  “So why go back a second and third time?”

  “Because my brains lie in my little head, not my big

  one.” He shrugged. “She was there, she was willing, and

  I’ve never been particular.”

  None of them were, and one way or another, it had

  gotten them all into trouble. “Was last night the last time

  you danced with her?”

  “Yes. And that’s when I told her she was delusional.”

  He hesitated and frowned. “You know, she said something

  weird.”

  That didn’t surprise him. Betise had been saying a lot

  of weird things lately. “What did she say?”

  “She said the Sinclairs owed her mother, and by the

  end of this moon phase, she intended to take what was

  promised.”

  Duncan frowned. What did they owe Iyona? As far as

  he knew, she’d never been to any of the dances here. “Is

  that all?”

  “All I heard. I must admit, I tuned out before I walked

  away.”

  Someone rapped against the outside door. “Coming,

  coming,” Martin called, then stuck his head through the

  doorway. “If you don’t want to be seen, you’d better leave.”

  Duncan nodded and glanced at his brother. “I’ll make

  sure Zeke provides protection while you’re in the hospital.”

  René raised his eyebrows. “You really think that’s

  necessary?”

  “Until we know what’s really going on, yes.” He spun

  on his heel and headed back for the tunnel. After he’d

  ensured the door was closed, he made his way towards

  his father’s rooms. Zeke wasn’t there, but that wasn’t

  surprising. As head of the pack, he’d have to be present

  while the rangers were interviewing and taking samples.

  Duncan picked up the phone and quickly dialed Lance.

  “Wilton residence.” His friend’s cheery tones came

  through loud and clear.

  “Lance, Duncan.”

  “Hey! I was just about to call you.”

  “You found something?”

  “Oh yeah. Discovered who else was in that little raiding

  party over in the Bitterroot reservation. Would you be

  surprised if I said one of the others had moved into Ripple

  Creek just over a month ago?”

  “With what has been going on, no.”

  “Well, if everything I’ve dug up is true, this woman

  has a pretty big axe to grind. Apparently, when she was

  barely a cub she was promised to Tray Sinclair in a deal

  that was supposed to strengthen business and blood ties

  between the silver and golden packs over there.”

  Duncan raised his eyebrows. Arranged marriages had

  gone out with the Dark Ages, mainly because very few

  worked. It was extremely rare for such a couple to be soul

  mates, and for most wolves, commitment to anyone other

  than their true mate was almost impossible.

  “When Tray turned eighteen,” Lance continued, “he

  decides he can’t stand the woman and reneges. To say

  she didn’t take his rejection kindly is an understatement.”

  In many respects, she had every reason to be angry.

  But burning down the mansion and killing innocents went

  beyond anyone’s idea of fair retribution. “So she led the

  raiding party to the mansion?”

  “Along with half a dozen drunken buddies, yes.”

  “Did she get jail time?”

  “Oh yeah. They threw the book at her. Got out after

  ten years on good behavior, and apparently she is a very

  nasty piece of work.”

  “She got a name?” Not that he really needed to ask, as

  he had a damn good idea who the woman was.

  “She’s now known as Iyona Myna. Got married some

  ten years ago, divorced two years later. I believe she has a

  daughter from a previous relationship who’s also living in

  Ripple Creek at the moment.”

  “Betise.”

  “That’s the one.”

  Duncan rubbed his hand across his jaw. He now had

  a possible suspect—two actually. Except for one thing.

  The wolf attacking the women was silver.

  “Don’t suppose you know what coat color she was?”

  “No. But she’s from the golden pack, so you’d presume

  gold.”

  Logic would predict so, but nothing in this case was

  going the way logic said it should. “Any idea who Betise’s

  father is?”

  “A couple of the gossip magazines suggested Iyona

  was pregnant when Tray rejected her. They also suggested

  Tray wasn’t the father. I haven’t found anything to confirm

  or deny this yet.”

  The timing was about right for Betise to be that child.

  “Don’t suppose you found any interviews with Tray?”

  “He died the night of the fire.”

  So Iyona had gotten her revenge, even if she had killed

  many innocents in the process. “Let me know if you find

  anything else.”

  “I will.”

  Duncan hung up and leaned back in the chair. If Betise

>   was indeed Tray Sinclair’s daughter, then her comments

  about the Sinclairs owing both her and her mother made

  a little more sense. But if she was after some form of blood

  recognition or compensation, why not go through a DNA

  test to prove paternity? What she was doing now—trying

  to hook a Sinclair through marriage—was surely going

  the long way around things. And while none of Zeke’s get

  were related to the Bitterroot Sinclairs, there were others

  in the pack who were. Moons, if she wasn’t careful, she

  could very well end up mating with a half brother, though

  he suspected it wouldn’t really bother her.

  He glanced at the time and wondered how Neva was

  doing. Was she keeping her distance like she’d promised?

  He frowned and rose, walking to the window. The snow

  was still falling, the night’s chill evident through the glass.

  He hoped she wasn’t still out in it. Hoped she was warm

  and snug in bed.

  He closed his eyes and reached for her, but there was

  nothing in the mental lines beyond a buzzing warmth.

  Wherever she was, she was too far away to hear him. Worry

  snaked through him, and he half wished he’d followed

  the desire to demand she stay put in the house and not

  run after Betise.

  The door behind him opened, and Zeke stepped in.

  “Thought you might be here,” his father said. “Martin

  handed those samples he took from Betise over to my friend

  in forensics. I suggest you mention them to our head ranger

  when you talk to her.”

  “I will.” Even though the mere fact they’d taken

  samples wasn’t likely to impress Savannah.

  “You talked to René yet?” Zeke asked.

  “Yes. And I’ve talked to Lance.”

  “Then you know about Iyona?”

  “Yes.” Duncan closed the curtains then turned around

  and leaned back. The chill of the glass was still evident

  through the thick material. “Did you get anything of

  interest out of Detrek?”

  “Not much more than what Lance probably told you.

  Apparently, Betise and Tray had a huge argument several

  days before the night of promising. Detrek had no idea

  what the argument was about, and from what I gather,

  really didn’t care. He didn’t like Iyona and said he was

  sorry he ever promised his son to her.”

  “Did he say anything about Iyona being pregnant?”

  Zeke nodded. “He said the bitch had been trying to

  pass off a pup as Tray’s, but he’d sent her packing.”

  “Surely Iyona could have proven it with DNA tests.”

  “She could have, and the fact she didn’t even try speaks

  volumes, in my book. Fact is, Tray was sterile. It was

  apparently something they’d discovered only a few weeks

  beforehand.”

  “You’d have to hazard a guess that’s probably what

  they argued about.”

  “Probably.”

  Zeke moved across to the bar and poured himself a

  drink, then raised the bottle in query. Duncan shook his

  head.

  “I suspect Iyona or her bastard are probably

  responsible for the attack on René, but what about the

  murders? Do you think they’re related?”

  Though he’d never seen Betise’s alternate shape, she

  certainly had both the height and the wide shoulders to

  suggest she’d be big in wolf form. But having the right

  body type didn’t make her a murderer. “The biggest

  problem is the fact that the murderer is a male—”

  “That’s only being presumed,” Zeke cut in. “No one

  knows for sure.”

  “Savannah might.” After all, she’d survived an attack

  by the killer, and she’d obviously seen something, or the

  killer would not have gone after her in the hospital.

  “Our head ranger isn’t likely to tell us anything,

  especially when she considers our pack the main

  suspects.” Zeke paused, black eyes glimmering with

  sudden amusement. “Of course, she has a twin, and the

  golden tribe share an extremely powerful psychic

  connection. It’s very possible your Neva experienced her

  sister’s attack and saw what her sister saw.”

  Your Neva. The words seemed to echo through Duncan,

  and he had to curb a smile, because in reality, there was

  no reason to smile. She was his nothing until she looked

  deep into her heart and acknowledged what lay between

  them. And right now, she was too scared of his reputation

  to even dare try.

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted. “I’ll talk to her

  when I see her again.”

  Zeke took a drink, then said, “If your connection with

  her is strong enough, you might be able to touch her mind

  and share her memories.”

  “That takes trust.”

  Zeke’s half-smile was sympathetic. “Many bridges to

  mend, huh?”

  “Maybe a lifetime’s worth.” There was no bitterness in

  his voice. With the benefit of hindsight, he did regret his

  actions. And yet he knew, given the same circumstances,

  the same information, and the chance to do it all again,

  he’d probably make the same choices.

  “What do you intend to do?”

  He knew his father was talking about Neva rather than

  the murders. He shrugged and moved away from the chill

  of the windows. “I really don’t know. I’m committed for at

  least another two months in Eagle. I can’t walk out on

  Dave without giving him time to find and train a

  replacement, and I need to find myself another job.”

  “You have the ski lodge your mother left you. You could

  always return and manage that. And I’ve heard that they’re

  thinking about setting up a search and rescue team here

  in Ripple Creek.”

  He nodded. He’d heard the same from Dave. “I’ll worry

  about it when I have our current problem solved. I’m

  heading over to the hospital to talk to our head ranger,

  then I’ll see if Neva remembers anything. I’ll let you know

  if I get anywhere.”

  “I gather Neva didn’t warn you about the rangers’ raid

  tonight?”

  “No.” Nor was he surprised. Her allegiance lay with

  her sister, not with him. Maybe one day that would change,

  but not today, or tomorrow or even next week.

  Zeke took a long drink, then said, “I don’t know why

  Savannah’s so damn convinced it’s one of us.”

  “Because they found black hairs on several victims. It

  wasn’t a human who killed those women. It was a wolf,

  and we’re the only pack with black hair.”

  “And silver coats. If the murderer was in wolf form

  when he attacked, how could the rangers find black hair?”

  “Why didn’t they find prints? Why were there no scents

  to track?” Duncan shrugged. “Who knows. Maybe they

  changed shape to gloat.”

  “The bastard behind this is certainly sick enough to

  do that.”

  “That they are.” He frowned. Why had he said they

  rather than he or she? “Are you arranging a guard f
or

  René at the hospital?”

  “Tye, Kane and I will be taking it in shifts. Right now,

  we don’t dare trust anyone else. Just in case.”

  Duncan nodded. “I don’t think you’ll have to do it for

  long. I have a feeling this thing will be over with in the

  next day or so.”

  “I hope you’re right. And I hope we can avoid any more

  damn killings.”

  “Amen to that,” Duncan said and headed back to the

  tunnels.

  ***

  Neva lost the truck halfway down Main Street. By that

  stage, her legs were aching, her lungs felt as if they were

  on fire, and the snow she’d gulped down hadn’t done a

  thing to ease the dryness in her throat.

  She padded along the street, following the truck’s tire

  tracks and hoping the snow didn’t decide to fall any

  heavier, because then she’d certainly lose them.

  The Blue Moon came into view, an oasis of warmth

  and energy in the cold night. Music pumped, beating

  through her blood like fire, and she momentarily wished

  she was inside, dancing and laughing with everyone else.

  But not alone.

  She sighed. Admit it, she thought. The damn man has

  gotten under your skin. And had she felt this deep an

  attraction to anyone else but Duncan Sinclair, she would

  not be dithering about her feelings for him. But she

  couldn’t change years of conditioning, and he was

  everything she’d been taught to avoid.

  And while she should undoubtedly be doing as Ari

  had advised—screwing that beautiful man’s brains out

  and letting the future take care of itself—she just wasn’t

  built that way.

  Yes, her wolf might be free—but her wolf loved Ripple

  Creek, loved working at the diner, and as much as she’d

  toyed with the idea, really had no hankering to explore

  the world. Her sister was the wild child in the family, not

  her. And Savannah was probably a more suitable match

  for Duncan than she’d ever be.

  So why did the thought of him leaving tear at her so?

  She didn’t know.

  Didn’t want to know.

  Coward, an inner voice whispered.

  But better a coward than holding out her heart to a

  man who’d long ago vowed to remain a lone wolf.

  The tire tracks led her to the far edge of town then

  veered left onto Heather Creek Road. Neva paused, trying

  to catch her breath as she listened to the sounds of the