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Her gaze slid to the bottom, and a note from his mother.
“I miss you, Bree, and Eric asks every day if you’ve returned yet. But I’m glad you’re not here. Truly, you shouldn’t come back to the complex. Something horrible is happening. Devon, in the apartment next to yours, disappeared the first week of March. His car was still parked in the stall. None of his stuff was missing and there was blood all over his place.”
Bree saw where the words, “like yours” had been scribbled out. The note continued.
“Then the first week in April, Marylou in the apartment across from yours, also disappeared. Same thing—blood, nothing missing, no body. The cops don’t know what to do. Jim wants to move, but we can’t afford it yet.
I hope you’re doing well. Please write and let us know how you are.
Love you,
Diane”
Bree felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. Devon’d just started his first job after college and had never been away from Nebraska before. He’d come over, wanting to know how to make meat loaf. After that, she and Ash had often invited him for a home-cooked meal.
Marylou was—had been—divorced. She’d cried when her new man-friend had sent roses for her birthday.
How could they be gone?
It’s because of me. The knowledge welled up, ugly and sharp. The hellhound had said it would return. Since Bree wasn’t there, it was murdering others. Guilt tightened her throat, even knowing she couldn’t have prevented the deaths. If she’d hadn’t left, she’d have died, and the monster would still be killing.
Understanding didn’t lessen her shame. She’d been here, falling in love, making a new home, while her friends were dying. Her hand felt heavy as she laid the letter on the nightstand. What was she going to do?
Outside the Lodge, Shay’s truck started with its distinctive roar, then the noise faded as he drove down the lane toward the highway. The lodge was empty.
I have to go back. Bree swallowed against nausea. She was the only one who knew how to kill it.
Couldn’t she call the police? Tell them about the hellhound? Sure, Bree. Did that work out well for you the first time? Even if the cops believed her about a monster—and they wouldn’t—then once spotted, they’d try to shoot it and get slaughtered.
Shay and Zeb could kill the hellhound. They’d help save her friends. They’d insist. She stood and sank back down.
The Cosantir had said no. “Cahirs do not leave the territory to fight. Your Gifts from Herne will not be there for you, not in a city of metal, so far from His forests. You are forbidden, cahirs.” The Cosantir had executed Klaus for breaking the “Law”. She could never, never risk Zeb and Shay that way.
Only—if she lived—when she got back, they’d be furious that she didn’t tell them. They’d…
I’m forbidden to go too. The Cosantir had looked at her, the black of the God in his eyes. “Do not force your lovers to kill you, Breanne.”
The men would never hurt her, but if they didn’t obey the Cosantir, they’d be exiled or executed as well. Her insides chilled as her bones turned to ice. Once she left, she couldn’t return to Cold Creek. Ever.
She pulled in a shuddering breath. Just a few days ago, she’d planned to leave the men and move. So why did it hurt so much more now, as if someone had opened her chest and poured acid inside?
Swallowing, she tried not cry. She’d never hear Zeb’s rough voice calling her ‘little female’. Never wake to Shay’s kisses. Never see the surprise in Zeb’s eyes when she baked something just for him. It hurt.
They’d hurt too. But they’d be alive.
And she had no choice. Tonight was new moon, and the hellhound would be at the apartment complex. Someone would die.
She raised her chin and straightened her spine. No human would die. Just the creature. The monster won’t get you, Eric. Or Diane. It won’t get anyone else.
Rubbing the ache in her chest, she dragged her suitcase from the closet. She wouldn’t be coming back. If she lived, she might as well have her own clothes.
As she haphazardly packed, she considered. It was a few hours drive to Seattle. Better leave now and have time to coax Diane and Jim to stay elsewhere. Maybe a hotel.
After securing her suitcase, she grabbed her purse and…My car. She didn’t have a working car. And Cold Creek had no car rental. Stunned, she stopped in the middle of the room.
Borrow a vehicle? Hah. Neither Zeb nor Shay would offer, not to let her go to Seattle. Her eyes narrowed. Zeb had walked to town as usual. His truck was parked outside the lodge. He’d have his key, but hotwiring old Fords was as easy as boiling water.
Hey, what was one more crime in the grand scheme of things?
She picked up her suitcase. Dropped it again. I need a pistol. Darn Zeb anyway, the overprotective butthead. A wave of grief thickened her throat. Blinking hard, she strode down the hall to his room. Where would he have hid her gun?
She found his pistol in his nightstand along with one of his knives. He was never without the other knife, she knew. She stared at his weapons, wanting everything she could get her hands on.
But this was new moon. What if he had to fight a hellhound here?
She’d just have to search for her own pistol.
Twenty minutes later, she found her S&W inside the closet, duct-taped over the closet door. She’d never have spotted it if she hadn’t had to climb a chair to check the top shelf. The man could give paranoia a bad name. He’d unloaded it, but she had boxes of bullets in her dresser.
After setting his room back to rights, she paused to hug his pillow and breathe in his lingering scent. He hadn’t slept in his room for a couple of nights. No, they’d been in Shay’s giant bed. All of them.
She wistfully replaced the pillow. If she left now, she’d be in Seattle in good time.
* * *
Zeb returned to the Lodge in a piss-poor mood and slammed the door behind him. Fucking pup. My fucking bad temper.
At the reception desk, Shay looked up from the registration book. “Problem?”
Zeb tried to nail his anger down. “Chad mouthed off and pushed that new wolf, Lacey. I shoved him face first into a wall to show him what it felt like.”
“Sounds good. So?”
“I should have talked first, disciplined later.” Zeb rubbed his face. Him and his fucking temper.
“Normally.” Shay tapped his fingers on the desk. “But not yet. Because of Klaus, the Cosantir’s watching the pack—and he won’t tolerate any more females getting hurt. If we don’t come down on that behavior hard and fast, that pup will get himself banished.”
“Well.” He hadn’t messed up?
“You know, eventually, the cubs will absorb your attitude.”
Zeb snorted. “My attitude?”
“Yeah, a bhràthair, that over-protective one that Breanne bitches about. And the pack will benefit from it.”
The glint of pride that edged Shay’s grin made Zeb blink.
“Go get a sugar fix. Breanne left us some pie.”
“Cherry?” Zeb’s stomach growled. He’d missed lunch, and he loved cherry pie.
“And apple too,” Shay said smugly.
Zeb was halfway to the kitchen when he stopped. There’d been only one truck in front of the lodge. He reversed directions and opened the front door. “Where the fuck is my pickup?”
“What?” Shay joined him. “Who’d steal that POS?”
“That piece-of-shit is mine, and I’ll gut whoever took it,” Zeb growled. He patted his pocket. “I have my keys. Where…where’s Bree?”
“Don’t know. I can’t feel her through the bond, so she’s not close.” Shay turned slowly. “She said once that she’d learned to hotwire cars in the city.”
“Guess she had something to do. But I didn’t see my truck in town.”
“You think…?” Shay’s jaw tightened, then he relaxed. “No. She wouldn’t return to the city on a new moon night.”
Uneasiness twine
d up Zeb’s spine like a strangling vine. “Check her room.”
Shay beat him up the stairs. “Her suitcase is gone.”
Fuck. What was she doing? Zeb found his pistol still in the nightstand. His knife too. He opened the closet and slapped his hand above the door. His palm hit the wall, and a piece of duct tape dropped to the floor.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Shay pulled his truck into the Wild Hunt parking lot. Every cell in his body ordered him to head straight for Seattle. But they couldn’t.
Calum wasn’t in the bar.
Rosie jerked her thumb upward. Calum, Alec, and Vicki lived on the second floor with their daughter. The men went around to the backyard and ran up the steps. Shay pounded on the door.
Jamie opened it, took one look at their faces, and yelled, “Daddy, I think they need you bad.”
Calum walked out of the kitchen followed by Alec. “Come in, cahirs,” Calum said. “Sit.”
Shay stepped inside far enough to let Zeb move up beside him. He felt urgency burning in his brother as hot as his own. “Breanne took her pistol and headed back to Seattle to kill the hellhound.”
“That’s purely suicidal.” Alec’s brow creased. “Why?”
“The hellhound that attacked her is stalking her apartment complex. Probably looking for her and settling for humans.” Shay handed Calum the letter he’d found in her room.
Calum skimmed it before handing it to Alec. “I understand her concern. But new shifters are forbidden human cities. If she’s hurt or scared—”
“Can you widen the patrols to cover our area?” Shay asked Alec.
Understanding softened the sheriff’s face. “We’ll handle Cold Creek.”
Darkness moved in Calum’s eyes. His voice was soft. “You also have been forbidden, cahirs.”
Zeb spoke finally. “Kill us later, Cosantir. After we keep our female from being slaughtered.”
They didn’t wait for his answer.
As they rounded the corner, Shay heard Alec call, “Best hurry, cahirs. It’s not that long before sunset.”
By the God, he knew that all too well.
* * *
She might as well have driven her own car. Criminy.
As fine mist dampened her hair and face, Bree paced outside the auto repair garage, unable to sit. She could just slap Zeb for not keeping his pickup in better shape. She should have expected this. He loved working with wood, but he absolutely hated metal and engines.
How could this happen to her? Now, of all times.
She looked inside. The hood of Zeb’s truck was open, and a mechanic worked away at its innards. Turning, she stared west. Through the gray clouds, the setting sun glowed a sullen red behind Seattle’s skyscrapers and the Space Needle.
Her hands fisted in her jacket pockets. “Can’t you hurry? Please?”
“It’ll get done when it gets done, lady.”
Chapter Thirty-six
Seattle ~ Dark of the moon
“Watch out for that red car. The driver’s drunk.” Zeb gripped the door handle. He’d thought itching was the worst part of being in a vehicle. Fuck, was he wrong.
“I see him.” Shay’s jaw clenched so tight that the muscles stood out. He slowed his truck. “Hope her hellhound shows up,” he muttered. “I need to kill something.”
“How can there be so many people in one place?” Zeb stared through the windshield into the misty twilight. In the three lanes in front of them, taillights streamed forward in steady lines, sometimes flashing the brighter red of brake lights. On the other side of the divider, three more lines of glowing headlights zoomed past. Horns blared. The car in front had the bass turned up far enough to reverberate in his bones. Disgusting music. “You hear the words to that song?”
“Would be a pleasure to meet the singer, teach him how females should be treated and spoken of.”
“We’ve had rotten Daonain too.”
“Yeah, and look how Klaus ended up.” Shay’s face chilled as the music continued. “I could ram the asshole hard enough to crush the radio.”
“Tempting,” Zeb admitted. He checked the map. “That’s our exit.”
A few minutes later, he snarled. “How many fucking lights can one town need?”
“It’s a city.” Shay brought the truck to another halt. “You never been in one before?”
“Never even interested.”
“I tried Portland as a cub. Thought it would be exciting.” Shay absently rubbed his chest and set off Zeb’s urge to scratch.
Fucking metal. “Was it?” Zeb caught glimpses of red outlining the Olympic Mountains. The sun had set. His hands fisted. Was she even now facing a hellhound?
“By the God, no. I only lasted two days. Humans are insane.” Squinting at the street sign, Shay turned right. “Some own mansions. Others live in cardboard boxes.”
Zeb stared down a block filled with big square structures, all eerily identical. “And some live on top of each other. You’re right, brawd. They’re insane.” The numbers on the buildings increased slowly. “Another. One more. Stop.”
Shay pulled the pickup to the curb outside a huge, boxy building. “She lived in something like that?”
Zeb double-checked the return address on the envelope. “Correct street. Right number.” He jumped out. “Let’s go.”
No doorbell. Shay knocked on the dark glass door.
No one came.
Impatiently, Zeb yanked the door open and found a long hallway with numbers on each door. That explained the extra number in the address. Maybe if he watched television now and then, he’d figure out human customs. “Look for two-two-five.”
“Right.” Shay strode down the hall. “None here.”
Could they have the wrong building? Zeb scowled, and then remembered how high the box was. More doors would be upstairs. “There were stairs at the front.” They ran back to the entrance, and Shay led the way up.
These apartment numbers were in the two hundreds. Midway down, Zeb stopped. “Here.” Don’t scare the humans. He let Shay knock.
The door opened, and a human male in his twenties looked at them warily.
“Hi,” Shay said. “Are you Jim?”
“No solicitors.” The man started to close the door.
Shay set his hand on it, holding it open. “Wait. We’re friends of Breanne.”
A female stepped up beside Jim. Probably the Diane who’d written the letter. “You’ve seen Bree? Is she all right?”
“She’s fine.” Shay smiled at them. “All healed-up.”
The humans relaxed. His brawd could be fucking charming when he wanted.
“She was headed here,” Shay said, “and we’re worried about her. This isn’t a safe place, as I’m sure you know.”
“I haven’t seen her,” the female said.
Zeb interrupted. “What’s her door number?”
“One-sixteen,” Jim said. “Downstairs.”
Shay turned to Zeb and said under his breath, “Go. I’ll talk them out of this trap.”
Back downstairs, Zeb trotted down the hall. One-sixteen. The door was locked, of course. He tapped. No answer, no sound of anyone inside.
Where the hell was she? She should have arrived hours before. The sun was already down. His gut tight with dread, he pounded. Nothing. The door was cheap wood and hollow. After checking the hallway, he tipped his body to try to muffle the sound and rammed his fist into the wood next to the handle. Took more effort than he’d figured. Definitely hurt more.
Reaching through the hole, he unlocked the doorknob and the deadbolt above it, and entered. After a quick sniff, he knew he had the right den. The stuffy air said the place had been empty for some time. He glanced around. Pretty with soft colors and fabrics. The kitchen held a myriad of cooking stuff: copper-bottomed pots, more knives than any female should possess, herbs running the length of one wall. Yes, this was his little female’s den.
He frowned at a sliding door made of glass. By the God’s balls, talk ab
out being unable to defend your cave. Zeb turned to leave.
Glass shattered.
He spun. A hellhound charged across the room.
Zeb flung himself sideways and over the couch. He hit the ground hard, rolled to his feet, and reached for his knife. The hellhound crashed into him, knocking him on his back. As fangs bit deep into his knife arm, pain seared through him. He kicked out uselessly.
Fuck, he was dead.
* * *
These humans were incredibly stubborn. Shay tried again. “You don’t understand. There will be someone killed here. Tonight.”
“How do you know that?” Jim’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I can’t afford to take my family to a hotel for weeks until they catch this guy.”
“Just for tonight.” Shay caught sight of a cub, all freckles, and big eyes.
“You’re really big,” the boy said.
“I’m from the mountains. We grow bigger there.”
A flash of humor showed in the father’s eyes.
“You’re Eric, aren’t you,” Shay guessed. “Are you the one that gives sticky hugs?”
Beaming, the boy grinned, displaying a missing tooth.
By the God, he couldn’t let the hellhound have this family. Shay pulled the father into the hallway. “Listen. That’s a fine son you have. Don’t risk him.”
The man shook his head again. “I can’t—”
“The hel—the murderer attacks on the new moon.”
Shay got a blank look.
“The night with no moon. One night a month. After the sun sets. Tonight.”
As comprehension filled the man’s eyes, his color drained, leaving him almost gray. “Diane, bring Eric. We’re going to visit Shawn and Susie.”
“Jim.” Diane glared at Shay. “We can’t just up and leave. I have work tomorrow.”
Sighing, Shay prepared to start over again.
* * *
God, could anything else go wrong tonight? Bree tore into the apartment building from the rear parking lot and ran up the back stairs to the second floor. It was after dark. If the hellhound had already visited her place, it would now be looking for other prey. She had a vision of Eric, torn apart like Ashley, and she shuddered. No, don’t go there. She needed to get them out. Now.