Red Rose Moon (Seasons of the Moon) (3 page)

Brakes squealed. Abel tasted rubber. Immense pressure crushed him against the pavement.

His body burned with the healing fever as soon as the injuries were inflicted, making him seize and shake. Two cars—he had been hit by two cars, and he was still in the middle of the road. But he couldn’t get up. Couldn’t make his shattered legs work.

He threw his weight to the side and rolled onto the shoulder just in time to feel another car blow past him. His arm slid over shattered glass, and then he was surrounded by prickly bushes and the smell of sage.

Abel was a mess of pain. One big bruise. It felt like every single bone was broken.

“Heal,” he groaned to himself. “Goddammit,
heal
.”

He had to get up before Cain came around for him again. Had to make a run for it, and find Rylie before she got hurt.

But he hadn’t been able to eat much lately, and it made his bones knit back together too slowly. Abel gritted his teeth and tried to pop his shoulder into place. Pain scythed through his chest. He roared.

Footsteps crunched toward him.

Abel looked up, and he saw his ugly excuse of a half-brother standing over him, arms crossed and right eye a mess of blood. He was flanked by three men in black shirts. “Now, don’t you feel stupid?” Cain asked. He jerked his thumb at his men. “Put him back in the truck.”

F
IVE

Collusion

When Gwyn and Rylie returned
to the kitchen, they were both smiling. “Sunday,” Rylie said. “We’re going to get married on Sunday.”

Seth was finished doing the dishes. He rinsed the soapy water off of his uninjured hand and dried it on a towel. “We are?
This
Sunday?”

“Yeah. Gwyn says we can have it together by then. She’s going to take care of everything.” Rylie’s cheeks were pink.

“You’re welcome,” Gwyneth said as she stuffed her feet into cowboy boots, threw on a denim jacket, and grabbed her keys off the hook. “Walk us out to the truck, wonder boy.”

He headed outside with his arm around Rylie’s shoulders. The snow had stopped, but it was chilly, and she looked so beautiful with her cheeks rosy and hair tucked into the collar of her jacket.

“Do you want to come?” Rylie asked Seth as she climbed into the front seat of the truck.

Gwyn responded for him. “We’re heading down to the dress shop and the florist. This isn’t groom business. Don’t worry, there’s going to be plenty for him to soon.”

“I missed a call from the California sanctuary, too,” Seth said. “I think I have real work to do.”

Rylie leaned down to kiss him through the window. “And weddings aren’t real work?”

He backed away with his hands in the air, making it clear that he knew better than to comment on that. “I’ll see you soon.”

She rolled up the window, and Gwyn pulled out of the driveway.

His smile faded as he checked his cell phone. The call that Seth had missed wasn’t from the California sanctuary. It was from Scott Whyte’s cell phone.

He called him back.

“Where are you?” Scott asked without preamble.

Seth pinned the phone between his shoulder and ear, got behind the wheel, and started his car. “We’re with Gwyn again. I haven’t been able to reach the sanctuary for days. What happened?”

“Cain attacked us. The Union didn’t even see it coming—half of their men turned around and started shooting the others. It was a mess.”

Seth pounded his fist into the wheel, making pain radiate through his broken hand. “Dammit. How many casualties?”

“Too many. Stephanie, Bekah, and Levi are safe—we made a break for it as soon as we realized what was happening. Most of the pack is heading your way now.”

“Did you see Abel?”

“Abel? No.”

Seth jiggled his knee as he considered the situation. He had no way to find out where his brother was—either brother. But he somehow doubted that Cain would able to resist the urge to attack Rylie’s wedding.

His first impulse was to call his fiancée and tell her that they needed to delay it.

But an idea dawned on him. A terrible idea.

“Where are you now, Scott?” Seth asked.

“Not far from you.”

“Head to the Gresham Ranch. We need to get everyone together there.”

“Why? That sanctuary’s not any safer than the one we left behind in California.”

“I know,” Seth said, heading for the diner where he had left Trevin and Crystal behind. “That’s why we’re going to lay a trap for Cain and Eleanor.”

Seth told Trevin and Crystal
what he had planned as they drove out of town again.

“You’re nuts,” Trevin said flatly.

Seth rolled his eyes. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“I don’t know about nuts,” Crystal said carefully, tapping her fingers on her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe suicidal.”

“Nuts
and
suicidal,” Trevin added.

Crystal poked him hard in the ribs. “Shut up. I’m just saying, there’s got to be a better way to do this. Using your own wedding as a trap to lure in Cain?”

“We don’t have a lot of choices left at this point,” Seth said. “He’s ruthless, and we’ve been a few steps behind him this whole time. We have to get ahead. We have to be prepared.”

“What does Abel think about this?” Crystal asked.

Seth fell silent as he drove along the highway, unbroken hand clenched tight on the steering wheel.

To be honest, he wasn’t sure that Abel was ever planning on coming back. Not after the last conversations they’d shared. They had been through a lot together as brothers, but the division over Rylie seemed to be the last straw—and marrying her wasn’t going to make that any better.

All he said was, “Abel’s got bigger worries.”

Seth wasn’t surprised when they reached the Gresham Ranch to find that Yasir was already waiting for him. The Union commander was alone for once—he wasn’t even driving one of those black SUVs with the long antennae. He leaning against an early nineties Ford Taurus that looked like it was held together with duct tape and hopes.

“I’m surprised you came back,” Yasir said by way of greeting when Seth climbed out of his car.

“Why did you come if you didn’t think I’d be here?”

Yasir shrugged stiffly. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I can’t trust any of the men on my team anymore. Half of them are tattooed with those damn apples.”

Crystal and Trevin got out. Their gold eyes burned with suspicion, but Seth held out a hand to calm them. “Yasir is okay,” Seth said. “Get inside and start collecting ammo. Okay?”

Yasir watched the wolves obey with his eyebrows raised. “You’re leading the pack now?” he asked once they were gone.

“Not really. That’s still Rylie’s job. But those are the only two that I’m certain are on our side right now, and they’re going to help me kill Cain.”

“You’ve got my attention. What’s the plan?”

“The plan?” Seth laughed. “The plan is that Rylie and I are getting married.”

The commander folded his arms. “That’s going to be a major security event.”

“I know. That’s why I’m asking you to be my best man. And I want you to bring guests—a lot of them.”

“Have you asked your bride what she thinks about having the Union at her wedding?” Yasir asked. Seth answered with a guilty grin. “So this will be covert.”

“It’s better than waiting for Cain to come and kill us. Worst case scenario? We can have a dozen armed men in the audience ready to take him down. Best case scenario, your men get to enjoy an open bar.”

“There’s only one problem with that,” Yasir said.

“The traitors.”

He nodded. “Even if I only bring men that I trust to the ceremony… I trusted Stripes. You understand what I’m getting at? I don’t know if there’s anyone in the Union that’s safe to bring.”

“That’s why your people won’t be the only ones prepared to fight,” Seth said.

Yasir’s expression changed from one of caution to something more appreciative. “This could be a bloodbath.”

“If that’s what I have to do to secure safety for Rylie, then let it be a bloodbath.” Seth held out his uninjured hand. “Will you stand with me?”

Yasir shook. “I would be honored to be your best man.”

S
IX

Traitors, Liars, and Floral Arrangements

It turned out that telling
Gwyn about her wedding and pregnancy wasn’t going to be the hardest part of Rylie’s day. It was trying to get a dress fitted without having to run to the bathroom to throw up.

“You okay, babe?” Gwyn asked from outside the stall.

Rylie groaned as she flushed the toilet. “No. I’m dying.”

Her aunt chuckled. “I stayed with your daddy for a few weeks to help around the house while Jessica was pregnant with you, and she did the exact same thing all nine months.”

All nine months? Just the mention of it made Rylie want to throw up again.

She sat in front of the toilet for another minute, and nothing happened, so she gave up waiting. “I thought it was supposed to be
morning
sickness,” she said, getting up and wiping her mouth with a square of clean toilet paper.

“Sure. Morning, afternoon, and evening sickness. It’s a good sign, though. Means that the baby is healthy.” Rylie pushed open the stall door, and Gwyn gave her a gentle hug.

“
I
don’t feel healthy,” Rylie said.

“Yeah, I bet you don’t. Come on. We’ll just tell the tailor to use the measurements from your prom gown.”

Rylie nodded gratefully, and returned to the dressing room to change out of the bustier and underskirt into her street clothes again.

Her pocket vibrated as they headed to the parking lot. It took Rylie a minute to remember that she was carrying Gwyn’s cell phone.

It was Seth.

“Bekah and Stephanie are in town, and they’re heading your way,” he said when she answered. “Where are you?”

Relief swamped Rylie. She had to stop and hold onto the light post to keep from falling over. Bekah and Stephanie were coming—that meant that they were okay. Even though she still felt nauseous, she suddenly felt much better overall.

“We’re just leaving the dress shop,” Rylie said. “We’re going to go to the florist next.”

“Already done with your measurements? That was fast.”

Rylie worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “Yeah. So… um, everything is coming together. What’s going on with you?”

“Just starting to get the ranch ready for the wedding this weekend.” Seth’s voice sounded weird. Rylie frowned. Before she could ask him what was wrong, he added, “Do you mind if I invite some of my friends?”

She blinked. “Friends?”

“Yeah. Some other hunters I’ve gotten to know over the years.”

Rylie hadn’t known that Seth had any friends. He never mentioned them. “Of course I don’t mind,” she said. “That sounds nice.”

“Good. I’ll let Bekah know where you are. See you tonight?”

“Sure,” she said.

“Love you, Rylie.” He hung up.

Bekah and Stephanie caught up
with them while Rylie was throwing up in the bathroom of the florist’s shop. She had been feeling pretty good until they walked through the door and the powerful perfume of blossoms smacked her in the face.

It wasn’t the smell itself that made her sick, so much as the fact that it reminded her of Pagan, and Seth getting tortured. Either away, it was enough to send her running again.

When she emerged, Gwyn was embracing Bekah, and Stephanie was peering closely at a bouquet of flowers with plump, drooping leaves.

Bekah squealed when she saw Rylie.

“Oh my gosh!” She flung her arms around Rylie’s shoulders. “I’m so glad to see you alive!”

Rylie returned her hug with a weak smile. After throwing up four times that day, she couldn’t seem to work up the energy to return Bekah’s enthusiasm. “I’m
glad to see you’re alive, too. What happened at the sanctuary?”

Bekah gave her a quick overview—the way that most of the Union team assigned to protect them had turned against the werewolves, and how quickly everyone scattered.

“We’ve been prepared for this for a while,” Stephanie said. She was a tall, elegant woman with strawberry-blond hair that had never been very friendly, although she managed a small smile for Rylie. “We had escape routes planned. The number of traitorous Union members seemed to shock everyone, though. Except me.”

“Why weren’t you shocked?” Rylie asked.

Stephanie gave a delicate sniff. “I never trust the Union.” She was a doctor by trade, but also a witch in her family’s coven—and apparently, she had run across the Union more than once before.

The florist came out of the back room holding a binder thicker than a family Bible, and they all stopped talking. He beamed at all the women standing in his shop. Rylie could practically see the dollar signs in his eyes.

“I can put a rush order on any of these for you, of course,” he said smoothly, setting the binder on the table by the window.

“I’m sure you can,” Gwyn muttered. Rylie stifled a giggle.

It felt strange to be flipping through pictures of floral arrangements while Bekah continued to whisper about the night that the California sanctuary was attacked. Rylie was feeling queasy again, but she didn’t think it was the pregnancy this time.

“Eldon?” she whispered back. “And his wife?”

“Both of them dead,” Bekah said grimly.

Rylie stared at the pictures without really seeing them.

She had failed to protect her pack and let them down. Now a few more were gone.

How many werewolves did that leave? Fifteen? Seventeen? Their endangered species was dwindling fast.

Rylie pressed a hand to her stomach.

But not dwindling as fast as it would have been, otherwise.

“Tell me what happened with Cain,” Bekah urged, drawing Rylie from her reverie.

Gwyn gave them a sharp look. “I don’t think we need to talk about that today. We should focus on happy things. Like how these lilies and the winter berries would look together. Stephanie?”

The doctor’s lips pinched together. “Lilies? Really? Those are funeral flowers.”

While Gwyn and Stephanie argued, Rylie filled Bekah in on the events of the kidnapping in a low whisper.