New Moon (17 page)

Every instinct urged her to fly as far away as she could get.

But she needed more information. Knowing she must understand the situation, she circled the men, her heart in her throat. One of them broke from the group and launched a spear, and it flew past her.

She heard Falcone shout, "No! Hold your fire, you Carfolian idiot." And she wondered if he knew the soldiers by the river had fired at her.

As he leaped toward the back of the line, the men moved swiftly out of his way. Falcone brushed past them as he raised a hand, pointing it at the man who had thrown the spear.

The soldier fell to the ground, writhing in pain, clamping his hands to his ears as though that could block the psychic bolt that had just crashed into his brain.

Falcone stood over him, coolly administering more pain. Then he raised his head and looked at two of the soldiers. "Con, Rugar, get him on his feet!"

The warriors obeyed their leader's command, pulling their companion up and supporting him as he swayed on unsteady legs.

"If he can't go on with us, kill him."

The whole incident told Rinna something important. Falcone wanted to capture her alive—if he could. Maybe she was even the reason he had come through the portal with this squad of soldiers.

He knew where she had gone, he wanted her back, and he was willing to go to great lengths to get her.

As though he were reading her mind, he looked up and stared directly at her. For a moment their eyes met.

"Don't bother to try and escape. Wherever you go, I'll hunt you down."

She beat the air with her wings, thinking that if she could take him by surprise now, she could claw his eyes out.

But he had too many men. They would come to his rescue. And that would be the end of her.

He gave her one more defiant look, as though he had read her mind. Then he went straight to Haig's side where he bent toward the old man's ear, speaking in a tone that she couldn't hear.

Haig's head jerked.

When he looked up at her, she felt the old pull that had existed between them. Long ago, when the monitors had taken her to the school, she had been scared and confused. During the day, she had held her head high and pretended that her insides weren't raw and bleeding. She'd listened to the teachers tell her that she had escaped from a life of slavery.

But she knew it wasn't really true. She might live in a better house, eat better food, and be excused from manual labor, but she would still be expected to do someone else's work.

Not for a conventional master. But the council. Or someone powerful on the council.

At night when she was alone in her tiny room, she cried for what she had lost. And tried to imagine her future.

Then one night, the old man who worked in the kitchen came into her room and asked her what was wrong.

She had tried to hide her thoughts from him. But even then he had gotten past her defenses, and she had ended up pouring out her heart to him.

He was alone, too. His wife and little girl had died in a raid on the school when adepts from White Flint tried to wipe out the next generation of gifted psychics.

Sensing that he was as wounded as she, she had reached out to him, trying to give him peace. And the two of them had comforted each other. Like a father and daughter might.

In their sadness, they had forged an indelible bond. If one of them was hurt or in trouble, the other would always know it and find them.

As he reached out to find her now, she recoiled. He was calling her out of the sky, calling her to the man she hated and feared most in this world or any other.

She faltered in the air. For a moment her wings were paralyzed and she felt herself falling toward the ground.

But she wasn't going to give up so easily. With a mighty effort, she wrenched herself away from Haig's pull.

Dizzy, hardly able to see, she flapped away, landing in a tree about fifty yards from the men on the ground, her talons digging into the rough bark as she struggled to keep herself from tumbling off the safe perch.

Haig raised his head and began to move again, walking steadily toward her.

She watched him, trying to read the expression on his face. Finally, she rose into the air, moving a hundred yards away, hiding herself in a thatch of leafy branches.

From her refuge, she peered out, sure that none of the men on the ground could see her.

But Haig didn't need to find her through his sense of sight. He stood very still, like a man listening to something. Then his body jerked as though a string were attached to his chest, and he started off in her direction again. As she watched his awkward movements, she knew Haig was using the tie between them to find her.

Why? Because Falcone had subverted him? Promised him freedom or great wealth? Or because Falcone had put a compulsion on Haig? Earlier, she had been sure it was a compulsion.

Now she honestly didn't know. But she was sure that her oldest and best friend would find her again, no matter how long it took. There was no way to hide from him, because the two of them were tied together.

He could find her. And if she got too far out of his range, he would go to the places where she had been recently.

Their bond would lead him to her—or her haunts.

She heard a sound of horror and frustration rise in her own throat. There was no way she could stop him, short of killing him. And she knew she would never be able to do that, no matter what he did to her. As a child she had loved him fiercely because he was the only person in the whole frightening school compound who had been totally on her side. Then they'd been on their own in the badlands, and the bond between them had only grown stronger.

So he could find her. And if he couldn't locate her, he would lead Falcone to Logan's house. Falcone would torture him, then kill Logan when he couldn't say where she was.

She knew that as well as she knew anything about the Iron Man of Sun Acres.

Which meant that she had to protect Logan.

But how?

A desperate plan formed in her mind, and she took off from the tree branch, heading back to Logan's house.

FALCONE gave the old man a hearty slap on the back, then watched him struggle to keep his footing. "You found her, even in her bird shape. That's good news. Very good news."

The old man licked his lips. "She got away."

"But you can lead me to her again."

Ruthlessly, Falcone cut him off. "Take me to her." He paused and looked around, dragging in a breath of the morning air. It was cool and fresh. Cleaner than at home.

The old man gave a curt nod, then started off at a deliberate pace. Falcone followed, gesturing for the soldiers to do the same.

Haig came to a wide ribbon of blacktop, remarkable for its smooth surface and uniform texture.

The old man looked back for instructions.

"Go ahead and cross," Falcone told him.

A vehicle was rushing toward them. As Haig hesitated on the gravel beside the road, a loud blast sounded from a horn as the carriage hurtled past, leaving wind blowing in its wake.

Behind Falcone some of the soldiers gasped, and he turned to give them a stern look.

"What was that?" one of them was brave enough to ask.

"An automobile," he answered promptly.

He knew that much. He had taken pains in the past to learn about this world by sending men through the two existing portals. Some of them had never been seen again. He didn't know if they had met some horrible fate or if they had decided to take their chances over here without the guidance of their master. If so, when he came here permanently, he would hunt them down and make them sorry they had dared to defy them.

But most of them were loyal to him, and they had come back with reports of wonders that, he never would have imagined. Still, it would be better if he had more information now.

Two more automobiles rushed passed. When no more appeared, he stepped onto the blacktop, boldly striding across the road, then motioned for his adepts and the rest of the troops to follow.

They sprinted across, quickly assembling on the other side.

Haig was almost out of sight, but Falcone didn't call out to slow the old man down. He wanted Rinna, and the sooner they took her into custody, the better.

So he hurried to catch up with his tracker, the rest of his party following in his wake.

He turned and looked back, feeling his throat tighten. They were far from the portal, and he didn't like that. One portal had closed. This other one was his lifeline back to his own world. He had come through and set up a base of operations fairly close to the gateway, in case it was necessary to retreat back to his own side.

But now Rinna was flying away from him, and the only way he could be sure of getting her back was to capture her himself—and kill the man with her.

CHAPTER TWENTY

RINNA HAD NEVER flown so fast, but panic set her wings beating the air.

Then she almost fell out of the sky when something large roared past her. Something shaped like a bird, but as she craned her neck upward, she saw it was man-made. And very high above her.

Perhaps it was that airplane thing they had talked about on the television set. But even far away, she could see it was much larger than a car.

Orienting herself, she found her own course again.

As she approached Logan's home, her arm muscles ached and the breath burned in her lungs. The wind stung her eyes, but when she looked down, she spotted a figure standing in front of the house.

Her heart contracted when she saw it was Logan. He was naked and staring toward the edge of the woods, and she knew he was about to change to wolf form so that he could look for her.

From above, she gave a great cry, trying to catch his attention and stop him before he could make the change. To her vast relief he went still, then looked up and shaded his eyes. When he spotted, her, he waved his arm in a wide arc.

She came down swiftly, landing on the grass a few feet away, and he reached for her. But she squawked again and shook her head. She needed to be able to talk to him and quickly.

Taking a step back, she pictured herself in human form, and her body followed her thoughts.

Even as she made the change, she saw Logan closing the distance between them.

"Rinna!" He caught her in his arms, pulling her naked body against his, and for that moment she was lost in the gladness of being with him once more.

"I thought you had left."

"No," she answered, knowing in that moment of sweet contact that she would have come back to him if she were free to do it.

When he brought his lips down to hers for a fierce, hungry kiss, she returned it with equal passion, devouring his mouth as though she had been months without him.

He stroked his hands over her body, his fingers gliding across her shoulders and down her back so that he could cup her bottom.

The sensations were exquisite. She came alive in his arms, tasting him, breathing in his scent, touching him. Maybe for the last time. That knowledge brought a hard knot to the inside of her chest, and she swallowed a cry of loss.

But he must have sensed that something was wrong. Lifting his head, he looked down at her.

"Where did you go?"

She had put off the moment of reckoning as long as she could. "Logan, Falcone is coming."

His hold tightened on her. "Where? How?"

"He brought a squad of warriors through the portal. They're coming here. Haig is leading them."

"Haig! I knew I couldn't trust that bastard."

Without even thinking, she leaped to her friend's defense. "He's under a compulsion. He can't help himself."

The moment the words were out of her mouth, she knew that she was only wasting valuable time. When Logan started to argue with her, she pressed her fingers to his lips. "There isn't time to talk about Haig. You have to listen to me."

As he pressed his lips together, she once again summoned the special power she had developed as a child—the power that Falcone had so cruelly locked inside her mind. She had used it with the detective. Now the need was more urgent, when the task was harder to accomplish because she had done it so recently.

This time the pain was searing, but she forced her way into that injured part of her brain, fighting not to gasp.

Logan's face contorted and his hands tightened on her shoulders. "Rinna, what is it? What's wrong?"

She didn't spare the energy for an answer, only kept her thoughts focused on the message she must convey to the man who held her in his arms.

"You have to go for help."

He shook his head. "I can't leave you here. Falcone could find you. I'm not going to let him hurt you again."

The pain threatened to rob her of breath. But she knew she had to keep her focus on the man and the message. "You must leave here. You must find help."

"What about… ?" He stopped, looking confused, as though he'd lost his train of thought. "Falcone," he finally said, dredging up the name.

She understood what had happened. He had been trying to string a set of steps together in his mind, and she had prevented him from following his own logic.

It felt like hot needles were digging into her brain cells. To steady herself and also strengthen the contact with him, she found his hand and knit her fingers with his. There was more to do if she was going to succeed. And she could feel time slipping through her fingers.

"Rinna? What are you doing? What's wrong?"

The pain in her head had almost blinded her, but she raised her face toward his.

"Everything's going to work out," she managed to say, praying that she was right as she kept up the pressure inside herself, directing her thoughts toward Logan, forcing him to follow a different logic path from the one he had chosen on his own.

"Is there someone who can help us?" she asked, managing to keep the question from coming out as a moan.

To her relief, he answered immediately. "My brothers. And my cousin."

"Good. Which one is closer?"

"My brother, Lance."

"Then go to him. Quickly. Get help." She could barely speak around the knives stabbing inside her skull, but she forced herself to keep talking. "Tell Lance what happened."

He took a step back, then stopped, looking uncertain. "What about you?"

Somehow she managed to say the biggest lie of all. "I'll be fine until you get back. Get dressed. Go. Before it's too late."

When he hesitated, she closed the space between them and clasped her arms around him, drawing him to her, pressing her body to his even as she summoned up one final burst of energy directed at his mind.

"I have to hurry," he said, pushing away from her.

"Yes. Hurry."

She sent him one more jolt of mental energy, reinforcing the message, making sure that if he tried to turn aside from his mission, his mind would go back to her and the instructions she had given him.

"Go now."

He turned and rushed into the house, and she swayed on unsteady legs. They lost the ability to hold her up, and she collapsed into a pile of leaves, lying there panting, trying to regain her strength.

She allowed herself a few moments to lie with her eyes closed. But she knew she couldn't stay there for long. Logan would come out of the house. And if he thought she was in trouble, he would go to her. Then she'd have to start implanting the message all over again, and she didn't think she had the strength.

So she forced herself up, forced one foot in front of the other as she crossed the lawn toward the house.

Logan burst through the front door, his eyes wild. He was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, but he had forgotten to put on his shoes.

She hoped that didn't matter.

"Rinna! What the hell am I thinking? You have to come with me."

"I'll be here, turning the house into a fortress," she said.

"How can you do that?"

"You'll see when you come back. Now hurry."

He looked torn, and she summoned all the mental energy she had left to give him one final push.

To her vast relief, he ran to his car, started the engine and roared out of the driveway.

Praying that the suggestion would last long enough to keep him out of danger, she watched him disappear.

Logan. Her love. Her mate.

And maybe the only way she could save him was to sacrifice herself.

She sat down on the edge of the porch and rested for a few more moments, gathering her remaining strength the way she might gather spools of thread that had fallen out of a sewing basket and scattered across the floor.

Her head still throbbed, and she struggled to clear it because she had to be sharp when she met Falcone. If she was going to get away from him, she would have to do and say the right things.

When she felt a little better, she stood, then took a moment to steady herself on her feet before making the change from woman to bird again.

LOGAN drove south, toward Lance's house. Like his own, it was in a wooded area, next to a state park where a werewolf could roam when the need to hunt took him.

His brain felt foggy. He was going to Lance's house. To ask for help. But he should be back with Rinna protecting his mate.

He pulled to the side of the road, cut the engine, and rested his head on the steering wheel, trying to clear the muzzy feeling from his mind. Why was he leaving Rinna?

He tried to puzzle it out. But he couldn't force the act of leaving to make sense in his mind.

He should turn around and go home. That thought tried to worm its way to the front of his mind.

He reached to start the engine. But the touch of soft fingers on his hand stopped him.

"Rinna?"

"Yes."

He had thought he was alone. But Rinna was beside him in the passenger seat, whispering softly to him, telling him that he must go to Lance's house.

He turned his head toward her, puzzled, trying to see where she sat.

"Where are you?"

"Right here."

"Didn't I leave you home?" he asked, hearing the confusion in his own voice.

"Yes. I'm protecting the house."

How could she be at home and with him, too? It didn't make sense. He couldn't see her. But he could hear her voice in his mind. And he thought that maybe he was only remembering what she had told him.

He said her name again, then imagined her smiling at him, reaching for him, pulling him down to a soft bed of leaves in the forest.

Wait! That was wrong. He couldn't make love to her now. He had to go to Lance's.

No. He had to go home. Quickly.

"Go to Lance's. Go to Lance's and get help."

He started the engine again and began to drive. And after a few minutes, he began thinking again that he might be doing the wrong thing. But every time he thought about stopping and turning around, Rinna's voice echoed in his mind. She had told him to go to Lance. She had told him to get help. And he knew that was what he must do.

So his hands gripped the wheel as he drove south, speeding through the early morning. At first there were hardly any cars on the road. But as dawn approached, commuters began clogging the road.

He was on an urgent mission, and he wanted to pound on his horn and get the bastards to move out of the way. But he knew it wouldn't do any good, so he suffered through the traffic, feeling a great swell of relief when he turned onto the road that led to the house where his brother lived with his wife, Savannah Carpenter.

They had been married only a few months. She was an artist, so she had kept her own name. And she had been at the thick of it when they had defeated the monster from another universe. It had been lurking in the basement of a D.C. S & M club called the Castle, feeding off the emotions of the patrons.

Savannah and Lance had gone there to find out who had pushed her sister off a cliff in Rock Creek Park. She and the other women had fought the monster. And the wolves had protected them.

Savannah and Lance knew about the parallel universe, and they would understand when he explained why Rinna needed their help.

He pulled into the driveway and jumped out of the car—in time to meet a gray wolf coming out of the woods.

It was Lance, and the wolf stopped short, his face questioning his brother's unexpected visit.

Logan bounced on the balls of his feet. "Hurry up and change. I need your help."

Lance disappeared back into the woods.

He seemed to take forever, and Logan pawed the ground with his bare feet.

Bare feet? He'd driven over here with no shoes on? He hadn't thought about that until this instant.

Finally, Lance was back, bare-chested but wearing a pair of sweatpants.

Lance looked him up and down—from the bare feet to the hair he hadn't bothered to comb that morning.

"You look like the devil is chasing you. What's wrong?"

The pressure of getting the message out made Logan shout out the first thing that came to his mind. "It's Rinna. Falcone is coming for her."

But Logan had been much too busy to tell his brother what had been going on in his life, so Lance didn't know any of those names or anything about what had been happening over the past week and a half.

"Rinna?"

Logan flapped his arm in exasperation. "You saw her at the castle. She's the woman from the other side of the portal."

Lance tipped his head to one side. "Maybe you'd better slow down and fill in some of the blanks."

Logan wanted to hurl a string of curses at his brother. But he ordered himself to hold on to his temper. Dragging in a deep breath, he let it out slowly, then said, "Remember when we fought Boralas?"

"Of course. The thing was after me and Savannah."

"Remember that we could see a woman helping us from the other side?"

Lance nodded, watching him with an intent expression.

Logan didn't like that look. "What?" he growled.

"Nothing. Go on."

"Well, Rinna saved my life."

"Did something happen at the Castle that I don't know about?"

Logan's exasperation had reached boiling point. "Jesus! You're not listening. I'm talking about last week. I was on an expedition gathering native plants that are going to be bulldozed. And I was running in the woods. In wolf form. Falcone had set a trap for her, but I walked into it—because it was tuned to catch a shape-shifter."

"And Falcone is?" Lance asked, his voice maddeningly reasonable.

"He's one of the bigwigs on the council at Sun Acres. He went to school with Rinna, and he knew her psychic potential. He wants to control her. And he wants her to give him children who will run the city."

Lance shook his head. "Sorry, but you're losing me. Am I supposed to know about Sun Acres?"

Frustrated by his brother's lack of understanding, Logan could no longer hold his anger in check. He'd come here because Rinna had sent him to get help, and all Lance was doing was asking stupid questions. "You son of a bitch. I'm trying to explain, but you're not listening."