Dark Moon Rising (The Revenant Book 2) (4 page)

“This is insane,” she repeated, rubbing at the ache building in the tense muscles of her shoulders.

Growing up, her summer vacations had been spent at amusement parks, camping trips, and the occasional tourist trap. For the most part, she’d had a normal, uneventful childhood, as much as a shifter could anyway. As an only child, her parents had doted on her, and they rarely told her no, but her father had drawn the line when it came to animals in cages. So, she’d never been to a zoo, a circus, an aquarium, or even a pet store.

Older now, she understood why her father had banned such places, but as a child, she’d viewed his decision as the height of unfairness.

Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t immediately notice that Rhys had fallen silent, his head down and his hands tucked into the pockets of his tattered khaki cargo shorts. Belatedly, it dawned on her that he’d probably been through this same routine with other groups, traversed the same narrow walkway dozens of times in the dark. Over and over, he’d had to answer the same questions, listened to the same pleas, all the while knowing he could do nothing to save any of them. 

Slowing, she touched his forearm, just below the elbow. “How long have you been here, Rhys?”

“A while,” he said, echoing his earlier response.

Maybe because of the mating bond growing between them, or maybe just because he sounded so damn broken, but her heart hurt for him. Sliding her hand down his arm, she urged his hand from his pocket and linked their fingers together, squeezing in comfort.

“Okay,” she whispered, knowing avoidance when she heard it. “I’m always willing to listen if you change your mind and want to talk about it.”

She didn’t push, falling quiet as they exited the tree line and stepped off a cracked curb into a mostly deserted parking lot. Once, she tried to pull away to give him space, but he gripped her hand tightly, like a drowning man clinging to his only lifeline. Thea didn’t resist.

His palm was warm against hers, chasing away some of the chill from the night, and the simple touch gave her courage. When she’d set out from Pittsburgh, she hadn’t been searching for her mate, hadn’t even wanted one, and she damn sure hadn’t expected to find her missing half in a werewolf. Fate couldn’t have picked a more inopportune time or place to throw her and Rhys into each other’s paths, but she saw no point in fighting it.

Once, just after her grandmother had passed, her mother had told her that fate didn’t make mistakes, and that everything happened for a reason, even if those reasons weren’t always clear. Thea had been seventeen at the time, and to her, it had sounded like a pretty bedtime story, a pacification parents told their children to help them accept that bad things happened in life. As she matured, however, she’d begun to think that maybe her mother had been right all along.

Thea had seen things she couldn’t explain, walked different paths that always seemed to lead her back to the same destination. She’d watched fate throw together couples who made no sense together, then awed at the depth of their love and devotion. Her parents had been the prime example of such a pairing.

They’d both been puma shifters, but beyond that, they’d had very little in common. Her mother had never once raised her voice in anger. She’d been beautiful, kind, giving, and she’d enjoyed baking. Before the Purge, she’d owned a small sweets shop outside of Philadelphia, but it had been common knowledge that Raina Mendez had given away more pastries and chocolates than she’d actually sold.

Thea’s father, on the other hand, had been a stockbroker. Handsome but intimidating, with a million-watt smile that made women weak in the knees. He’d hated social gatherings, and he’d been near-obsessive about order and control. The only thing he’d ever been able to cook without burning it was a microwaved dinner.

And no one had ever loved anyone more than Luis Mendez loved his wife.

Rhys tightened his grip on her hand, bringing her back to the present as they approached the entrance of the zoo. Several SUVs and pickups had been parked in a neat row near the curb, and she gritted her teeth when she recognized the dark blue vehicle that had brought her to St. Louis in the first place. A few other sedans littered the parking lot, probably left over from before the Purge, and a lone, rusted RV gleamed dully in the light from the lamp posts, covered in months of dirt and pollen.

The weeds had taken over the landscape beds, sprouting through the dried mulch, and the once blue tiles that adorned the face of the building had faded to the color of sea foam. Cracked bricks, broken windows, vines that seemed to crawl over everything—no outsider would guess the place doubled as headquarters for a vicious pack of werewolves.

Before entering the visitors’ center, Rhys released her and edged half a step to the side, creating distance between them. Thea let him go, aware of the endless problems their involvement could cause, and focused instead on her surroundings. The broken cash registers and empty service counters created an unnerving scene in the single fluorescent light. Vacant, glassy stares from numerous stuffed animals followed her progress from the shelves in the gift shop, sending an eerie shiver down her back.

The exit doors hung open behind her, beckoning her to the street beyond the empty parking lot. The enforcers had already cleared the room, confident the rest of them would follow. They talked in loud, carrying voices, too absorbed in themselves to pay much attention to anyone or anything else. It would be easy, too easy. She could turn and run, keep running and not look back. Even without shifting, she was fast and damn smart. She just had to make it across the street, and she could lose them.

Then she’d find Deke, gather reinforcements, and come back to wipe the pack from existence.

“Don’t.” Strong fingers curled around her wrist, and Rhys jerked her forward, pushing her in front of him.

“What?”

“Don’t,” he repeated through clenched teeth, his jaw rigid. He spoke quietly, his voice barely audible over their muffled footsteps, but anger and disappointment saturated every word. “Don’t be so eager for death.”

“We could make it. If we left right now, we could disappear before they even realized we’re gone.”

He gave her a look of disbelief that somehow also bordered on condescending. “If you really believe that, you’re a fool. I didn’t take you for a fool, angel.”

Twice now he’d called her that. Plenty of words could be used to describe her, but no one who knew her would ever compare her to an angel. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“True, but I’d like to, and I can’t do that if you get yourself killed.”

It was unfair, and she didn’t know what made her say it, but the words fell from her lips before she could stop them. “Why do you even care?”

His gaze softened, and the muscles in his jaw relaxed as he led her through the exit on the other side of the welcome center and back out into the night. He didn’t answer her, though, and as the silence stretched on, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“If Abby was right, and the pack plans to kill us, I’d rather die trying to escape than be slaughtered for their amusement.”

“You aren’t going to die.”

“And you call me the fool?” Thea deflated on a small sigh. “You can’t protect me here, Rhys. We both got dealt a shitty hand in this mess, but let it go.”

A hint of the broken man she’d met in the clearing still lingered around his eyes, but now, Rhys spoke with purpose and determination. “I protect what’s mine, and make no mistake, you are mine, Thea Mendez.”

She didn’t just hear his words, she felt them right down to her soul. It had been barely an hour since they’d met, but she could already sense the bond forming between them. The metaphysical strings that twined together, uniting them, drawing them closer, making them one. The longer they spent together, the harder it would be to walk away, but the mating bond wasn’t a mandate. She could still choose to leave and never look back. Free will couldn’t be overridden, not even by fate.

Staring up at Rhys, feeling his warmth, his strong hand curled around her wrist, hearing his adamant promise to protect her, the choice wasn’t as difficult as she’d have imagined. She barely knew him, and she certainly shouldn’t trust him, but goddess help her, she did. Whether because of the connection forming between them or her own instincts, she believed him.

On the other hand, it didn’t really matter whether she trusted him or not because they’d likely be dead soon. She’d told Rhys to let it go, and if she was smart, she’d take her own advice. A small but growing part of her, however, just wanted to feel something again, if only for a little while.

She’d heard it said that love—or even the chance for love—had no place in war. Emotions made her weak. Caring about someone only led to heartbreak. For almost two years, she’d heard it all, reiterated in a number of colorful phrases, but she didn’t buy it. Yes, she fought for freedom, for justice, and on her bad days, vengeance, but it all stemmed from the same place.

If the Revenant weren’t fighting for love, then what the hell were they fighting for exactly?

“Okay.” She removed her hand from his grasp and stared straight ahead as she spoke. She wouldn’t give the pack any reason to use Rhys against her or vice versa. “What do we do now?”

Past the tracks that had once carried zoo visitors on a tour of the grounds inside a small train, Rhys march alongside Thea, both of them following a few strides behind the others. He hadn’t meant to lose his temper with her, but hearing his mate talk about her impending death as if she’d already accepted it had triggered something inside him.

For months, he’d wanted nothing more than to die, to end his own suffering. He had nothing left to fight for, no reason to think he’d ever be free. It shamed him to admit it, but he’d descended into darkness, a savagely desolate place where not even the tiniest ray of light couldn’t penetrate the inky abyss. It had been one long stretch of night, his heart so consumed by guilt and hatred he’d seen only one way out of his wretched existence.

Then, he’d met Thea, and something inside him had awakened, a deep, primordial part of him he’d thought had been ripped away during his months of captivity. Thea had no reason to show him kindness, no reason to trust him, but she’d done both without hesitation. She was beautiful, yes, but more than that, she was brave. She put herself last on her list of priorities, and she’d shown no qualms about going to battle for those she loved.

“Okay,” she whispered, even as she pulled her hand away, creating separation between them. “What do we do now?”

It appeared she’d come to some kind of answer, though Rhys didn’t know what the question had been. “Whatever it takes.”

She’d swept into his life like a fiery, avenging angel just when he’d needed her most, and flooded his world with brilliant, golden light. She’d lifted him from his own hell, restored his hope, and given him a reason to fight—even if that reason was only to protect her. Previous experiences argued that he couldn’t keep her safe, not against this particular enemy, but he shoved those thoughts away ruthlessly.

He wouldn’t fail this time.

He couldn’t.

“Whatever it takes,” she repeated, her accompanying nod resolute. “That’s simple enough.”

It wouldn’t be simple at all, but if they worked together, they might stand a chance. “The first thing we need to do is get you through the Gallows.”

“Excuse me? What?”

They had all night and most of the day to prepare, and he couldn’t risk being overheard. Shaking his head, he gave her a pointed stare, then shifted his gaze forward.

“Later.”

The sidewalk ended under a wooden awning just as the sky opened up in a heavy downpour. Through the double glass doors, pastel lights flickered from within the former café, hues of blue, purple, pink and amber. Raucous music thumped from the speakers attached high on the walls and support beams, and circular tables adorned with black tablecloths had been stacked high with food and drinks.

“Wow,” Thea muttered, her eyes wide. “They really go all out, don’t they?”

Rhys nodded. “They like a good party.”

“How many?” Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed the room with a more calculating gaze. “I’d say at least sixty, sixty-five, not counting the kids.”

In the back corner, at a long, rectangular table, several of the packs cubs giggled as they shoveled chocolate cake into their mouths. A few of the older kids had paired up on the makeshift dancefloor, while the very young ones clung to their mothers as they watched the festivities with a mixture of trepidation and excitement.

“There are a couple of groups out on patrol, but I’d guess closer to forty adults here, and maybe a dozen or so children.” She had a good eye, but she’d missed one important detail. Taking her by the shoulders, he pressed close to her back, leaning in until their cheeks almost touched. “Look, angel. Really look.”

“The collars and cuffs.” She turned rigid beneath his touch, and her pulse quickened as her gaze skipped to the group of captives in the far corner. “They were all taken since the last full moon?”

“Yes.” Despite the seriousness of the conversation, he inhaled deeply, shivering at her warm, earthy scent. “Most, if not all of them, won’t be here after tomorrow night.”

“Is this usual? Are there always so many?” Zerrik asked, joining them with Cade and Abby on either side of him.

“We should move.” Rhys couldn’t run the risk of being overheard. “Follow me.”

Winding his way through the tables, he led them across the vast room to another exit that led out onto a covered, wooden patio overlooking a small pond. The rain had slowed, but it still pelted against the roof and wetted the edge of the deck. Twinkling lights had been strung over the railing and between the posts, casting the wrap-around deck in soft, romantic light that reflected in the surface of the water.

It wasn’t unusual for the prisoners to group together during the Gathering, so they wouldn’t draw attention to themselves, but the patio offered a modicum of seclusion to speak in private.

“Okay, we’re here,” Cade announced unnecessarily. “Answer the question.”

While he didn’t appreciate Cade’s tone, he understood the male’s anger and anxiety. “Fourteen, including the four of you—three vampires, four shifters, and seven humans, almost double from the last full moon.”

“It’s the end of October.” Pushing his long hair back from his face, Zerrik shook his head and sighed. “People are looking for places to bunk down for the winter.”

“Oh, no.” With tears brimming along her lower lashes, Abby looked back inside to the table in the corner while absently rubbing her right wrist just above the thick, metal cuff. “That’s terrible. They’re all going to die, and they probably don’t even realize it.”

“I think they know,” Cade interjected. “What else do they think a bunch of psychotic werewolves want with them?”

“Cade,” Thea growled, “you’re not helping.” Turning to Rhys, her expression softened. “It’s later. Tell me what’s going to happen tomorrow night. What are the Gallows?”

The Gallows didn’t need an in depth explanation, but nor could any of them truly understand it until they’d experienced it. “In short, we’re all locked in the same place with Ravagers and hungry vampires until sunrise.”

All eyes turned to Zerrik, and if possible, the vampire paled further, all color draining from his already fair complexion, making the dark shadows under his eyes more pronounced. They had every reason to be afraid, because if Zerrik managed to survive the full moon, things would only get worse for him from there.

Closing the distance between them, Thea took Zerrik’s hand and looked him in the eye. “We’re not going to let that happen. Not again.”

A haze descended over Rhys’ vision, and a growl built in his chest at the sight of another male touching his mate. It wasn’t a rational response, but also not one he could control. When Zerrik reached up with his free hand, intending to touch Thea’s face, Rhys caught him by the wrist and snarled.

“Step away,” he warned.

The vampire’s eyes narrowed for a heartbeat, then crinkled at the corners as he smiled wide enough for his fangs to glisten in the soft light. “No disrespect intended.” Releasing Thea’s hand, he pulled his other arm from Rhys’ grasp and took a measured step back toward the deck railing. “I would offer congratulations, but given the circumstances, I’m not sure that’s the correct sentiment.”

“Not cool, Rhys.” Folding her arms over her chest, Thea glared at him.

“You know as well as I do that it’s not voluntary.” Werewolves were naturally territorial and possessive, and right then, all those instincts were on overdrive. “It will ease some once we—”

“Okay, okay.” Lifting her hand, she waved it back and forth as she shook her head. “I get it, but you have to control it better.” Lowering her voice, she moved in closer, her eyes staring past him to a group of enforcers inside the café. “You can’t freak out every time someone touches me, Rhys. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

She made a valid point, but he couldn’t promise what she asked. At that moment, he had little control over his reactions, and anything could set him off where it pertained to Thea. A perceived threat—real or imaginary—against his mate could send him into a savage rage.

His possessive instincts had been given a steroid injection, and just the sight of other males standing close to her had him contemplating murder. With the full moon coming, it only complicated matters further, especially since half of his focus would be on not descending into madness and going full-on Ravager.

“There’s no violence permitted at the Gathering,” he said when he caught Abby watching the other prisoners. “For tonight, you’re safe. No one will try to hurt you.” Her turned to give Thea a pointed glare. “Unless you try to run.”

Zerrik placed a hand against Abby’s lower back. “In that case, I’m going to take Abby to get food.” He tapped a fingernail against his collar and grimaced. “Then, I could use a damn drink.”

Cade nodded as he followed them back into the main part of the restaurant. “Make mine a double.”

“We should go with them. We need to stick together.”

Normally, Rhys would agree, but this time, he caught her around the waist when she tried to pass and spun her into a shadowy corner, pressing her up against the wall. “I mean what I said. They’ll be safe for tonight, angel.”

“What are you doing?” She thumped against his chest with one hand and shoved at him with the other. “Someone’s going to see you.”

“Then you should hurry up and kiss me.” Her taste still lingered on his tongue from their last kiss, and he didn’t know when he’d have another opportunity to feel her lips against his.

“I…Rhys, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I do think.”

“Someone will see,” she reiterated, but her struggles ceased, and the hands that had pushed him away now gripped his shoulders. “Why don’t you have a shirt?” The cords in Thea’s neck strained, and her eyes flashed golden before settling back to their natural, deep brown. “Everyone else has a shirt.”

“Intimidation.” Because he couldn’t fully shift, his wounds healed, but they scarred. “They always send me to greet the new ones. The scars scare them.”

Soft and gentle, she slid her hand up the side of his neck until she cupped the curve of his jaw in her palm. “Tell me how long you’ve been here. Help me understand.”

He’d avoided telling her, and a small part of him had hoped she wouldn’t ask again. From what he knew about Thea, however, he should have known better. She wasn’t just stubborn, the female was relentless, but had their situations been reversed, he’d have wanted the truth as well.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

That part was easy. “Because I don’t want you to stop looking at me the way you are right now. I don’t want you to see me as a monster.”

“Technically, you are a monster. We all are.” She didn’t smile, but her eyes gleamed, and she caressed his cheek with the pad of her thumb. “Tell me.”

“Tomorrow night will be my seventh Gallows.”

“Oh, Rhys.” Kind and gentle, she cradled his face and rose up on her toes to press their lips together. “I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this alone, but you’re not a monster.”

He wanted to believe her, but she only saw the surface. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

Feeling him tremble against her, Thea realized nothing he said could truly help her comprehend what he’d been through during the past seven months. He’d fought starving vampires and crazed Ravagers, all while battling not to become a Ravager himself.

When humans had learned about the existence of the Gemini, they had immediately and unilaterally decided that they needed to rid the world of these monsters. In their fear and panic, they’d kidnapped countless Gemini, conducted cruel experiments, until eventually, they’d found a way to eradicate everything paranormal. The PN2 virus that targeted specific, “mutated” genes—supposedly harmless to humans—had been released into the air, but no one had expected what would come next.

Untested and unpredictable, the virus altered, killing two-thirds of the human population within days. The Gemini, the intended targets, hadn’t escaped unscathed, though. The vampires became more sensitive to the sun, something that had only been myth before the Purge. Shifters could no longer transform without enduring agonizing pain. Each time Thea shifted, it felt like being ripped apart from the inside out, so she avoided it whenever she could.

The werewolves had received the worst of it.

Beyond claws and teeth and a flash of their eyes, they couldn’t shift at all. Their already aggressive natures had been amplified, and without a release, many of them descended in chaos. By the first full moon after the Purge, a significant number of wolves had gone feral, becoming what everyone now knew as the Ravagers.

For months, Rhys had been forced to participate in archaic gladiator-type games and fight to the death on numerous occasions, and through all of it, he’d somehow managed to maintain his humanity.

“You fought, and you survived.” Closing her eyes, she pressed her cheek to his and whispered, “I’m not going to hold that against you.”

“I hope you still feel that way after tomorrow night.”

“We’re going to get out of here,” she vowed, “and we’re going to make them pay.”

“When you say it, I almost bel—” Rhys stiffened, a low growl rumbling through his chest. “Someone’s coming.”

He moved swiftly, retreating to the other side of the deck to lean against the wood railing and stare out over the pond. Pressing herself deeper into the shadows, Thea breathed shallowly and focused on taming her erratic pulse. She couldn’t do anything about her scent, but she hoped the wind stayed in her favor, and that Rhys’ musk would be enough to mask her presence.