Indigo Moon (35 page)

Ren stood. She was angry with herself on hearing this news. Why was she still here? Mouse and Joey were safe. She had a mission to find Isabelle, but the cubs’ arrival with Hope had distracted her. Isabelle could be walking into danger while she sat and talked.

“Where is this shack?” she asked Hope. “It’s time I had a word with Patrick. He didn’t grab Mouse for a keepsake.” She needed to know what on earth Luc was thinking to order a stunt like that.

“I’d like a word with him, too,” Hope said darkly. She cast a glance across to the fireplace to where Tadpole lay in his dresser drawer, deep in a drugged sleep. “The shack is outside of Lost Creek. About five miles to the west along an old track that takes you down to the Silverthread.” She stood, as if ready to go. “You’ll need help if Patrick’s buddies have arrived. You can’t go alone, Ren. It might be dangerous.”

Marie put a hand on Hope’s shoulder and pressed her back down onto her seat.

“Ren will not be alone. Her family will be with her. Claude, gather the hunt. We’ll head out together.”

Ren shook her head. “I want do this alone now I know where to find her.”

“You’ve no idea what your sister’s intentions are,” Marie pointed out. “She’s infiltrated your pack, kidnapped a cub, and wants to kill your mate. This is a challenge. Is that why you want to face her alone?” She stood face-to-face with Ren. “Because understand this, if you fight and Luc wins, she will have to be destroyed. She’s too volatile. I’ll never allow her to have a pack of her own here, or in Canada. I will kill her.” Her words were icy.

“I think Luc wants to talk to you, Marie.” Godfrey cut through the silence. “I don’t know why she got Patrick to steal Mouse. But grabbing Hope was a definite demand for your attention. She can’t be far away.”

“My number is in the phone book like everyone else’s.” Marie swung away and strode to the door, her pack hard on her heels. “She’s got more than my attention.”

“Are you going to head out with the Garouls after your sister?” Godfrey asked Ren.

Ren also headed for the door, the back door. “I need to find Isabelle first. Luc can wait.”

“I knew you’d go off on your own.” His words drifted after her. “I knew she’d do that.” She heard him tell Hope. “She’s the broody, loner type.”

“Good luck, Ren,” Hope called after her. “Bring Isabelle home safe.”

*

Night fell, the temperature fell, and her energy levels fell. Isabelle curled up, cupped in a massive tree root. She needed rest and food. She was ill for lack of it.

If I lie down for just ten minutes, I’ll be refreshed enough to catch something to eat. What comes out at night that’s tasty? Owls? Bats?
She closed her eyes, and within what seemed like mere minutes was shivering herself awake. She had no idea how much time had passed, but it was longer than the ten minutes she promised herself. A new dawn streaked the skyline. She was naked and human.
It happens when I sleep. I change when I sleep.
This had happened to her before; sleep and scents were her triggers, there was no doubting it now. She lay blinking up at overhead branches, and curled up tighter to keep what little warmth she could.

A new awareness grabbed her. The carcasses of two freshly killed rabbits lay by her head. She sat up, startled, and looked at them in dismay.

“Aw. And I skinned them for you and everything.” The voice came from her other side. She swung around to face a darker, leaner version of Ren. The face was angular, with a fox’s cunning. The eyes were black and curiously flat, as if all light was sucked in and held. And they were cold, as cold as the blood-red smile on the beautiful and eminently wicked face before her.

“Luc,” Isabelle said, and drew her knees up to cover her nudity.

“You remember me! How good is that.” A dark gaze roamed over her body. “It’s all flooding back. Werefever does that; it fucks up the head. Soon you’ll remember what a lovely vacation you had in Bella Coola. How you flirted with the handsome twins, and even had a dalliance with one.”

Isabelle inched away, unsure how to respond.

“It wasn’t me, by the way. You preferred the wonderful Ren. I was too raw and edgy for you.” Luc snapped her white teeth. “Too damn fine.”

Again Isabelle could only gawk.

“You look lovely naked. You should do it more often.” Luc raked her in idle curiosity, tinged with a little boredom. Isabelle knew this was not good. Boredom soon led to viciousness with people like Luc. “A tad too thin for my taste, but maybe Ren likes all those awkward angles.”

“I knew you were here.” Isabelle struggled to sound strong. “You killed Patrick and that other boy.”

Luc shrugged. “Everything they touched turned to shit.”

“That’s all you can say? They suffered so much.”

“Sums it up. They were dying anyway, if it makes you feel any better. All my changelings rot from the inside out. Talking of suffering, Patrick told me your old boyfriend ran straight into a tree. Now that was funny. I wished I’d seen that.” Luc visibly cheered now that she had a wound to pick.

“Patrick killed Barry.” Isabelle’s chest tightened. Barry hadn’t deserved to die like that. She would always carry guilt that she had brought these killers to his door.

“Patrick was stupid.” Luc’s tone hardened with dissatisfaction. “I already had your scent. I’d found all your favorite city haunts. It was fun following you around. By killing that man, Patrick made you run. Not good.” She shook her head. “He spoiled the hunt. He had to go.”

“So why are you chasing the others? Mouse and Joey and the human woman?” Isabelle fished for information. She kept Hope’s name out of it. The Garoul connection was a card she was uncertain how to play. She needed to find out as much as she could. “You’re out here hunting them, not me.”

“You have a wonderful nose. I love your nose. I may keep it after I pull the rest of your face off.” Luc gave the tip of Isabelle’s nose a playful tap with her forefinger. Isabelle twisted her head away.

“I don’t understand any of your actions,” she said.

“That’s because you’re not wolfie enough.”

“I’m wolfie enough to know you turned those kids Ren’s trying to look after. Is that why they’re becoming sick? Is it something you do when you attack them?”

“She’s a saint, isn’t she? And I don’t
deliberately
infect them. It’s a side effect of the werefever. Some pull through, some don’t. Some relapse.” Luc shrugged. Her skin had an oily, waxen sheen under her tan, and Isabelle wondered about Luc’s health.

“Is that why you came out here after Mouse and Joey? Because they’re ill, too? Were you going to kill them as well?”

Luc tensed. “Don’t be ridiculous. They’re not ill. They’re the healthiest of the lot.” There was almost pride in her voice. Her face flexed into a deeper, more menacing scowl as if daring Isabelle to dispute her.

“I know you’re jealous of Ren and me.” She changed tack. Luc would not reveal any more about infections, not if her own health was implicated. Isabelle was satisfied there was an illness running through Ren’s pack and Luc was the root of it. “You’ve never liked me.”

Luc barked out a laugh. “You wouldn’t be my first choice for my sister’s mate.” Again, her eyes scoured Isabelle’s face and body and found her wanting. “You were leaving and she was sad. I can’t have my sister moping around the place.” She placed her hand on her heart. “It’s a twin thing.”

“I know something else.”

“You’re so fucking erudite.”

“I know why Patrick grabbed Mouse. I know why you’re chasing those kids.” A faint flaring of Luc’s nostrils was the only clue Isabelle had hit her target. “Mouse is your daughter. Isn’t she?”

“You fight sneaky. I say you’re not good enough for my sister; and you come back at me and pull out my biggest secret. You’re a nasty little thing, aren’t you? I think I’ll revise my opinion of you.”

“It’s hardly a deep, dark secret. Anyone can see she’s yours.”

“She could be Ren’s.”

Isabelle shook her head. “She has an…edge. That’s all you.” This brought a flicker of a smile, and Isabelle drove home her point. “So why are you kidnapping your own daughter? You know Ren looks after her well.”

“Because she’s older now and needs to know things not even Ren can teach her. Because all my other little darlings are dropping down dead, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let Mouse grow up in a diseased swamp hole. Ren needs to accept what’s happening on that farm. Her pack is falling sick. They’ll all die.”

“You were bringing Mouse to Little Dip?” Isabelle was incredulous. “You hoped she’d find a home there. Were you going to be part of it, too?”

“Cleverness always goes with a great nose. It’s the wolven way. The sniffers always were the thinkers.” Luc avoided her last question. Her face held a curious, distant calm, as she was slowly detaching herself from all emotion. Isabelle knew time was running out.

“Why do you want to kill me?” she asked bluntly. She might as well get to the core of it.

“It’s not all about you, you know.” Luc looked grumpy at this direct approach. “It’s about getting Mouse to Little Dip. You happened to be an interesting sideline. A mate is for life.
You
ran away. If you’re not her mate then you’re dead, simple as that. How else will Ren be free of you?”

“Isn’t that for Ren and me to discuss? Why are you sticking your nose in the midd—Oh, I see.” Isabelle’s voice hardened. “You attacked me, didn’t you? You’re the one who started all this. Like you start everything, and then it turns to shit, right?”

“Ouch. You can nip when you want to. But yes, it was me who infected you. I feel so ashamed.” Luc leaned into her, her eyes gleamed wickedly. “Was it the wrong thing to do? After all, you two did hit it off. Patrick told me you were getting along famously. Ren even adorned Big Tree for you.” Luc had a roguish smile she used with great effect. “It’s a metaphor,” she whispered. “A sort of initiation thing.” Her smile didn’t work on Isabelle.

“If I was a Were I’d bite you right back,” Isabelle said.

“You are delightful. I should have kept you for myself.” Luc stood and kicked off her boots. “Bring it on. You’ve got thirty seconds by the time I strip and change.” She pulled her shirt over her head. Before it was free of her body Isabelle had fled.

“I won’t kill you, by the way. I think I like you better now that we’ve chatted,” Luc called after her. “But I’ll put another mark on that pretty face so you never forget me again.”

Isabelle raced through the underbrush. It tore at her skin and hair. Branches whipped at her face, and stones and shale cut the soles of her bare feet. She had to get away, she had to put enough space between herself and Luc so that she could hunker down and change into a Were. But how? It had always just occurred before; she had never initiated the process as far as she knew. Sleep and scent were all she knew as triggers. Could she do it to order?

Luc was behind her in an instant. A sharp shove between her shoulder blades sent her reeling onto her knees. It had taken Luc less than thirty seconds to find her. The wind was knocked out of Isabelle. She’d never had a chance anyway. She lay sprawled naked on a bed of twigs and dirt, frightened and defeated. Where was her wolfskin now? Not that she could tackle an enormous beast like Luc, even as a Were, but it would have been less humiliating than scrabbling in the dirt like an earthworm. A huge part of her wanted to stand and fight, to swing her claws and roar out her anger. The fingers of her right hand twitched and her nails hardened and lengthened. Wide-eyed, she focused on her hand, willing it to make a claw, to begin her transition.
Please, please, let it happen.

Behind her she could hear Luc pant as she decided on her next strike. Isabelle focused on her shaking hand. She trembled with effort, willing her wolfskin in to life—A massive clawed foot stepped into view, an inch from her face. A deep, menacing growl accompanied it. A second beast now loomed over her.

Isabelle peeped up at the enormous werewolf standing over her, facing off against Luc. It shimmered with a vibrant energy. Dew spangled its black fur like a thousand little diamonds. This Were had been roaming the forest all night. It was well settled in its wolfskin and filled with muted rage.

She sensed Luc draw back, surprised by the new arrival and the aggressive challenge. Isabelle twisted her head and found the beasts on either side of her, face-to-face, snarling at each other with increased ferocity. Their coats shone an oily blue-black in the weak morning sun. Both were of an equal height, though Luc had the leaner, wirier build. Her eyes were matte black; no golden light burned in them. The other beast shook with fury. Its eyes burned with an amber glow so fierce it could brand an opponent’s heart. This was Ren. Isabelle knew it with every fiber of her body. Ren had found her just in time, like all heroes did.

Large dollops of saliva dripped onto her skin from their snapping maws. The ground below her trembled with their warlike rumbling. She dragged herself out of the center of what promised to be a vicious fight once the threats and posturing were over. Her feet were barely clear when Ren head-butted Luc squarely on the muzzle. Luc reeled back, caught unawares.

Ren drove her shoulder into Luc’s solar plexus with a guttural roar and crashed her backward into a tree. Luc clawed at Ren’s back and clung on as Ren spun her from tree to tree, bouncing her off the creaking trunks until the forest floor was littered with leaves and twigs. Debris rained down, and the ground shook as they spun in a roaring, thundering circle from tree to shuddering tree. Isabelle had never heard noise like it; it was prehistoric in its violence and barbarism. She crouched terrified, afraid to move.