Dark Moon Rising (The Revenant Book 2) (3 page)

Thea didn’t like it, but when one of the enforcers grabbed her by the elbow and shoved her roughly toward the rest of the group, she had no choice. Instead of trailing behind, however, she marched purposely past Cade and Zerrik, slowing only when she reached Rhys’ side.

“Where are we going?”

“To the cabin,” the wolf answered simply.

“Great. What the fuck is the cabin?”

“You won’t be hurt,” he assured her.

Yet.

The word lingered unspoken between them. Thea didn’t miss that fact that he hadn’t answered her question, but she’d find out soon enough. Instead, she asked another.

“How long have you been here?”

“A while.”

Moonbeams illuminated his skin, casting shadows in the dips and curves of his hard body. His muscles bunched and flexed with every step, his shoulders rigid, and his back tense. She had the strangest urge to touch him, to feel his bare skin beneath her fingertips, and trace the faint scars. She wanted to offer even a small measure of comfort or reassurance.

Of course, she did none of those things. Rhys might be a prisoner, but he was still a werewolf. Clearly, her electroshock therapy had fried her brain.

Sighing, she tilted her head back, staring up toward the moon in an attempt to calm her racing pulse and dispel unwanted thoughts. Only, she couldn’t find the moon through the dark, heavy clouds. A frown tugged at the corners of her lips, her gaze inexplicably drawn back to Rhys. His skin still glowed, bathed in moonlight. She stared up again.

By the third time she’d looked between the sky and the wolf’s back, panic constricted her chest, her stomach twisted into knots, and though she shook her head, she couldn’t deny the facts. Rhys didn’t glow, not in the traditional sense, and his skin didn’t reflect the light of the moon. Instead, she could only describe it as a radiance, an aura of sorts, one that burned from the inside out, and one that only she could see.

“Fuck.”

Rhys grinned, but he didn’t feel much humor at the situation. “I wondered when you were going to get there.”

He’d picked up the female’s scent before he’d even cleared the trees. Warm and rich, with just a hint of bite, like spiced vanilla on a brisk autumn day. At first, he’d hurried his steps, eager to find the source of the inviting fragrance, but it hadn’t taken him long to realize he rushed towards tragedy.

Stepping into the clearing to find the new prisoners surrounded by guards, he’d hoped he’d been wrong. He’d hoped the scent appealed to him because of some lost memory he couldn’t recall. Then he’d seen her. Long legs, lean muscles, caramel skin, her expression defiant and resolute, she’d called to him on a primal level, awakening instincts he’d long ago forgotten.

When she’d snapped the enforcer’s wrist, cowing him without breaking a sweat, Rhys hadn’t been able to stop the growl of approval that rumbled up from his diaphragm. When she’d threatened him further, glib yet unrelenting, he’d been captivated. When she’d put her friends before herself, promising her cooperation for their safety, he’d fallen a little bit in love.

And he didn’t even know her name.

“I’m sorry.”

He was sorry because she deserved better than a broken werewolf for a mate, and because he’d give anything for her not to be there. He was sorry they wouldn’t get a chance to know each other. He’d never see her smile. She’d have a beautiful smile. He could almost picture it, but the pack never gave their playthings any cause for joy. He’d never hear her laugh, or see her dance, or watch her eyes glaze with desire for him.

Mostly, he was sorry for what awaited her on the full moon. No one ever survived the Gallows. No one, except him.

“I know.” A small sigh escaped her full, parted lips. “I guess I’m sorry, too.”

“You have no reason to apologize.” She hadn’t asked to be kidnapped, assaulted, held prisoner, or forced into the Gallows for the sheer entertainment of the alpha.

Softly, like the light fluttering of butterfly wings, her fingertips brushed over his back, her touch lingering between his shoulder blades. “They look like claw marks,” she commented, tracing a few of his numerous scars. She sounded appalled. “What the hell happened to you, Rhys?”

He didn’t answer, but reveled in her touch, losing himself in the quiet cadence of her voice. He liked the way she said his name, how natural it sounded on her lips.

“No more questions.” He wanted to know her, to spend hours listening to her talk, but he couldn’t risk the suspicion of the enforcers. “We’re almost there.”

Of course, she didn’t listen, and Rhys found her stubbornness both frustrating and oddly endearing.

“You never answered me. What’s this cabin? What’s going to happen there?”

“You’ll be able to shower, and they’ll give you clothes for the Gathering.”

“What gathering?”

Thankfully, the female in his arms chose that moment to stir, her small body trembling when she realized who held her. “Easy,” he soothed. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He couldn’t make the same promise for the pack. “How are you feeling?”

Thea walked quietly at Rhys’ side, watching the interaction between him and Abby. It amazed her that someone so big could be so gentle. He spoke quietly, reassuring the female, calming her fears. Carefully, he repositioned her in his arms, cradling her small body to surround her with his warmth and shield her partial nudity from the other wolves.

There was nothing sexual in the gesture, only protectiveness. She’d never met another werewolf like Rhys. Not even Gabriel had been blessed with so much patience and kindness. It might have been an act, a façade to win her trust, but she doubted it. Rhys was too damn broken to attempt to manipulate anyone.

“Where are we going?” Abby asked, lifting her head to look over at Thea. “What happened?”

Avoiding her question, Rhys stopped so abruptly, Cade walked right into his back. Without a word, he turned and deposited Abby into the male’s arms where she immediately curled against Cade’s chest. Both men nodded at each other, then Rhys continued leading them on their march through the woods.

“What was all that about?” Thea questioned.

Rhys shrugged. “She was scared. I thought she might be more comfortable with someone she knew…someone human.”

“Instead of some big, scary Gemini?”

She said it flippantly, but in her heart, she knew most humans saw them that way, even the ones who pretended to be their friends and allies. The Gemini—beasts with two faces, two natures—were never to be fully trusted. Considering how the Coalition treated humans, like property or favored pets, she couldn’t say she blamed them.

After the Purge, when the world had gone to shit, prominent vampire and shifter families had put aside centuries of conflict to come together, deciding they’d be best suited to rule what was left of the planet. They’d formed the Allied Races Coalition, and ruled over the rest of them—other paranormals included—like supreme gods in their hilltop mansions.

“Yes,” Rhys answered, interrupting her downward spiral. “Instead of a monster like me.”

So much sadness and self-hatred laced his voice, Thea couldn’t breathe for a moment. He twisted his hands together, rubbing at his knuckles and wrists, as if trying to scrub away some filth she couldn’t see. He didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it, but after a few seconds had passed, and his movements became more agitated, Thea couldn’t watch anymore.

Placing her hand atop his, she squeezed, holding on until he stopped fidgeting and looked at her. “What have they done to you?”

He turned his gaze toward the sky, his shoulders rounded, but he didn’t pull away from her. “Nothing more than I deserve.”

“I’m sorry,” Rhys muttered for the third time in twenty minutes. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

The cabin he’d spoken of turned out to be exactly that. A log structure with glowing amber lights, rustic furniture, and a warm, inviting fireplace Thea wanted to curl up in front of and sleep for a week. Instead, she’d been ushered down a narrow hallway to the modified prison-style showers where an enforcer had removed her collar and shoved her into the bathroom.

The ugliest blue and yellow tiles covered the entire room, all the way up the walls to the open beams of the ceiling. Six chrome-plated shower heads ran in a straight row across the longest wall, each directly above a matching drain in the floor. Thea half expected the wolves to douse her in lye, but they just laughed and jeered before retreating to the front of the cabin, leaving Rhys to stand watch.

Rhys stood in the doorway facing them, his head ducked, and his eyes cast down at the floor. At first, he’d tried to give them privacy by turning his back, which had only earned him a vicious shock from his collar, much to the amusement of their captors.

At first, Thea hadn’t known what he’d done to earn his punishment. Furthermore, she couldn’t figure out how the enforcers had even seen him. She’d just happened to glance at the small window set high on the far wall when she’d noticed the flashing red dot in the corner of the room. Glaring at the offensive light, she wondered how many other cameras she’d missed on the way to the showers.

It also occurred to her that Rhys likely wouldn’t try to stop her if she really wanted to leave. He might warn her, or implore her to play by the rules, but he wasn’t put there to play guard. He was there as another form of manipulation, and she understood the threat perfectly. If she stepped out of line, Rhys would pay the price for her infractions.

Thea didn’t normally condone murder, but she’d be willing to make an exception for this particular group of werewolves.

Nudity didn’t bother her, nor Zerrik. Maybe because he’d been in the military before the Purge, but Cade didn’t seem uneasy about it, either. Abby, however, trembled silently under the hot spray, doing her best to cover the most private parts of her body while she bathed. Eventually, she had to choose between her modesty or washing her hair, and in the end, she’d reluctantly chose cleanliness over propriety.

A week ago, Thea would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. They’d been kidnapped, imprisoned, harassed, and tortured with electroshock restraints, and still, Abby worried about someone seeing her naked. Now, she actually felt sorry for the female, and she found herself wishing should could do something to ease Abby’s discomfort.

No one offered them towels when they’d finished showering. Instead, Rhys led them down a different hallway to a large bedroom with huge windows and another fireplace. Big, brown armchairs had been arranged in a semi-circle around the hearth, clothing draped over the back of each one—white, button-down shirts and charcoal slacks for the men, crimson and gold dresses for her and Abby.

“I think this one is yours.” Thea held one of the dresses up to her chest, rolling her eyes when the hem ended at her hips. “Here, Barbie, get dressed.”

“Where are we going?” Abby stepped into the dress and pulled it up quickly, spinning around for Thea to zip it, clearly relieved to be covered.

“Some kind of gathering.” She didn’t want to frighten the female again, so she added, “I think it’s like a party.”

A heartbeat later, Rhys destroyed that lie by clearing his throat and holding up Thea’s collar. “If you think this is bad,” he said when he saw the look of distaste on her face, “I promise the alternative is much worse.” Coming closer, he held it up, his expression beseeching. “Please,
angel, be smart.”

“Thea,” she whispered, instinctively checking the doorway as she spoke. “Thea Mendez.”

His gaze raked over her nude body, his eyes devouring every inch of her. “Rhys Lockwood.” Coughing to clear the gravel from his voice, he nodded at the other dress still hanging over the back of the chair. “You should get dressed. We don’t have much time.”

“Right.” Her dress, while longer, fit twice as tight as Abby’s, the crimson fabric hugging her curves and crushing her breasts. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Rhys nodded slowly. “You look beautiful.” Then he grimaced as he held her collar up again. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” Turning, she presented her back and lifted her hair out of the way. “It’s not your fault any more than it’s mine.”

Hating himself for it, Rhys locked the collar around her slender throat, his fingertips lingering across her nape before stepping away. His body still thrummed with energy, his heart racing from the sight of her nude body. She was beautiful beyond words, with flawless caramel skin and long, ebony hair that gleamed wetly in the flickering light from the fireplace. Goddess, she took his breath away.

He wanted her, more than he’d ever wanted anything, but he didn’t know how to protect her. They’d only just found each other, and he’d already failed her.

“I wish we could have met under different circumstances.”

Thea arched her neck, grimacing as she pulled futilely against the cold metal collar. “Maybe.” Turning, she crossed her arms, the movement straining the silky fabric of her dress, and considered him, her deep, chocolate-brown eyes narrowed and intense. “You probably wouldn’t have liked me very much before the Purge.” A feral grin tugged at the corners of her mouth, and her canines elongated. “I wasn’t always this nice.”

He couldn’t stop himself. Tangling his fingers in her damp hair, he pulled her to him, urging her up on her toes to slant their mouths together in a deep, hungry kiss. Her fangs pierced his lower lip, a sharp sting of pain that only fueled his desire. Sweet Jesus, she tasted like she smelled, full of heat and spice, and he couldn’t get enough.

A wistful, feminine sigh at his left elbow drew him out of his haze, and he released his hold on Thea, damning himself for his recklessness.

“Sorry,” the petite blonde whispered, her eyes downcast. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She brushed her hands down the front of her dress, then combed her fingers through the ends of her drying hair. “You’re Rhys, right?”

He nodded. “I am.”

“I’m—”

“Leaving,” the silver-haired vampire snapped, jerking toward the doorway. “We’re leaving.”

Rhys heard it as well—muffled footsteps approaching in the hallway. A heartbeat later, one of the enforcers appeared in the doorway, a young wolf with dark, curly hair and sky blue eyes that gave him an innocent, boyish appearance. As the saying went, looks could be deceiving, because Joseph Haymaker was one of the most sadistic bastards Rhys had ever had the misfortune to meet.

The pup sauntered into the room, arrogance oozing with every step. His eyes went immediately to the human female, caressing her from crown to hips with his predatory gaze. Circling her, he sniffed obscenely, skimming his nose down the side of her throat.

“Mm,” he murmured, “delicious.”

Thea’s hand twitched as if she was imagining backhanding some manners into the little shit, but Rhys grabbed her, pushing her arm back down to her side. He understood her desire to protect her friends, admired it even, but her intervention right then would only make things worse. Thankfully, she seemed to realize this, because she didn’t fight him.

The human male in their group, however, had a harder time controlling his emotions. His upper lip curled over his straight, white teeth, his expression turned thunderous, and only the vampire’s hand on his shoulder held him in place. At least he still had enough presence of mind to keep his damn mouth closed.

“You’re different,” Joseph rasped, his tongue snaking along the vein in her neck. “You smell…exhilarating.” Jerking back, he grabbed the female’s chin roughly, forcing her head up so he could search her face. “Nah,” he scoffed. “Nothing more than a human bitch.”

“My name is Abby,” she stated clearly, “not bitch.”

Beside him, Thea groaned, but before Joseph could do more than blink, Abby grabbed him by his ear, corkscrewing it sharply and sending the wolf to his hands and knees with a yelp. Honestly, Rhys didn’t think the female had it in her. Abby had been a weak, whimpering mess from the moment he’d met her, scared and unable or unwilling to fight to protect herself.

“When you speak to a lady,” Abby said sweetly, “have a little fucking respect.”

Thea’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open. The human male smirked, and the vampire appeared dazed. Judging by their reactions, Rhys had been correct to assume this wasn’t typical behavior for the female, and he had to wonder which one of her personalities was real and which one she chose to show to the world. In his experience, people didn’t change overnight, and especially not in the hour or so since he’d met her.

As he’d feared, though, her defiance earned her a swift and violent reprimand. Jerking his head away, Joseph rose up to his full and intimidating height, a crazed look in his eyes as he slapped her across the face with an open hand. As bad as it looked, it could have been worse—much worse—and Rhys released the breath he’d been holding when the wolf glared for a moment more before turning and stomping out of the room.

“I want them out front in sixty seconds,” he called over his shoulder, his voice echoing down the hallway.

The human male moved quickly, pulling Abby against him and gently touching the red mark on her cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Thank you, but I’m fine, Cade.” She smiled and stepped out of his embrace. “I’m tougher than I look.”

“What the hell was that?” Thea demanded. “Are you crazy?”

Abby shrugged. “Like I said, I’m tougher than I look, but I do realize that playing the helpless, scared human is to my benefit most of the time.” Her bright, shining blue eyes narrowed when she looked toward the empty doorway. “This wasn’t one of those times.”

Thea pinched the bridge of her nose and snorted. “True, but you shouldn’t have told him your name.”

Abby arched a perfectly manicured brow and echoed Thea’s snort. “What does it matter? They plan to kill us.” The fight drained out of her, and her shoulders rounded as she wrapped her arms around her midsection. “We’re going to die here, and knowing my name isn’t going to change that.”

The one she’d called Cade nodded his agreement. “They were watching us back at the truck stop. I’d guess they already know our names, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they knew why we were there.” He turned to the other male in the group. “Zerrik?”

“Unfortunately, I think you’re right.” The vampire’s pale blue eyes narrowed. “We should go.” He straightened the collar on his dress shirt and gestured toward the door. “There’s no point in provoking them at this point.”

Thea didn’t move right away, her expression wary. “Fine, but I still don’t like it.”

“No one said you had to.” Leading the way through the cabin, Zerrik stopped on the front porch and motioned the others ahead of him.

From there, they walked in silence, following the wolves at the front of the group down a narrow, cement pathway past tin-roofed pavilions and weathered picnic tables. Trees loomed on either side of them, their dying leaves crackling in the breeze. Eventually, Zerrik mumbled something about speaking with Cade and increased his pace to catch up to the two humans, leaving Rhys alone with Thea once again.

Thea shivered and rubbed at her bare arms, but she didn’t complain about the cold. “Are we still in St. Louis?”

“Forest Park,” he answered with a nod. “More specifically, we’re just outside what used to be the St. Louis Zoo.”

“You’re fucking kidding.” She shuddered, this time clearly not from the weather, and her eyes took on a faraway look. “Tell me there are no playgrounds.”

“Uh, yeah, there are a couple, and one of those spray parks.” He made big motions with his hands, lifting his arms up and down like a symphony conductor as he tried to explain. “You know, where the water sprays up out of the concrete. The pack pups play there sometimes.” Dropping his arms back to his sides, he looked at her and scowled, his eyebrows drawing together. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.”

“You have something against jungle gyms and swing sets?”

“Something like that.”

Her reaction confused him. “Aren’t playgrounds supposed to be fun?”

“Yeah, well, you weren’t at the last one.”

A tingle rippled down Thea’s spine as she thought back to that night, that awful, macabre scene in the playground of an abandoned elementary school. So many people dead. People she’d known, some she hadn’t, and others, like Gabriel, she’d been proud to call a friend. She tried to remind herself that the Ravagers were as much victims as everyone else, maybe more so, wolves driven mad by the virus that had wiped out most of humanity in the Purge. Then the memories would surface, all the pain and suffering caused at their hands, and she found it a lot harder to feel sorry for them.

“Where are we going anyway?” She saw trees. Lots of goddamn trees, and very little else. “What was that cabin? Why is there a cabin at a zoo? This is insane. You know that, right?”

Rhys’ laughter was quiet and hesitant, as if he didn’t quite remember how to use it. “Technically, the cabin isn’t in the zoo. This used to be a nature preserve, and I’m not sure if the cabin was there before the Purge or not.” He pointed ahead of them toward a paved road beyond the thinning forest. “That’s where we’re headed now. Past the parking lot and through the north entrance.”