Beneath a Darkening Moon (17 page)

She raised an eyebrow. “Why on earth not?”

His gaze met hers, and once again there was a
touch of sadness in those clear gray depths. Yet there was also determination, and on some inner level that frightened her. Her life was about to change, and she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for it.

“Because until now, you and I have been living like sleepwalkers, just going through the motions. Both of us have been afraid to experience the depth of true emotions again, so we keep to the safety of each other.”

She opened her mouth to deny his statement, but he raised a warning finger, stopping her.

“His arrival here has awakened something in you, Savannah. Don’t let it go back to sleep, because it’s beautiful to see.”

“Ronan—”

He smiled and caught her hand, then raised it to his lips and kissed it gently. “There’s no need to say anything. There never was.”

He released her, handed her the kit, then turned and walked away.

And she knew it was as much a symbolic retreat as it was literal.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to control the swirl of … not hurt, but at the very least, regret. Yet, deep in her heart, she knew that what he was doing was right for them both.

Even when Cade finally left Ripple Creek, there would be no going back to the easy camaraderie she and Ronan had once shared, if only because the wolf within her had indeed woken again.
That
part of her—the part she’d subdued for so long—had always wanted more than just a comfortable existence. She wanted lust, and passion. She wanted the unquenchable
fire of needing to be with someone so badly it felt like she’d die without him. But most important, she wanted to know what it was like to be the object of one man’s undying love.

And those were things she could never find in Ronan’s arms, no matter how much either of them might want it.

But she’d found most of it with Cade—then
and
now.

Fate, she thought as she brushed the heel of her hand across her eyes, had to be a woman, because it sure as hell was a bitch.

C
ADE COMBED THE
remainder of the temporary color through his hair, then stepped back to study the effect.

Bright red definitely didn’t suit him. It made his skin look sallow rather than tanned. But when combined with the silver-gray contact lenses, it went a long way toward disguising his identity. Add faded denims, black T-shirt, and a worn black-leather jacket, and he looked nothing like his usual suit-wearing official self, even though he’d done nothing to disguise his features.

But then, he didn’t need to. Few people really stopped to examine faces. Most folks just scanned the surface, making basic assumptions based on little more than clothing and skin color. That had been proved time and again in lineups and undercover operations the world over.

He picked up his keys, wallet, and coat. As he headed for the door, anticipation rose. What sort of disguise would Vannah wear? At Rosehall, she’d worn all sorts of costumes—from the prim and proper librarian to a leather-clad whip-mistress, both of which
he’d enjoyed immensely. Neither of those was suitable for tonight’s venture, but he had no doubt that whatever she came up with would be equally exciting. If there was one thing Vannah could never be accused of, it was lacking imagination.

So why had she settled for being a ranger?

The world of police work, with all its rigid rules and regulations, was something he would never have thought she’d be comfortable in. The Vannah he’d known had been a free spirit and would have chafed at the restrictions she now worked under.

But then, how well had he really known her? He hadn’t even known she was using a false name, for heaven’s sake. Which, now that he actually thought about it, was pretty slack police work on his part—and that of his supervisors.

Why
hadn’t they known?

The thought niggled at him and, instead of heading for his car, he turned and walked to his team’s room.

“Hey, pretty sexy look you have happening there, boss,” Trista said, her expression amused as her gaze swept him.

“Apparently, if I don’t wear a disguise to this nightclub, our quarry will run.”

“You sure our chief ranger isn’t pulling your leg?”

“No, I’m not.” And worse yet, he hadn’t even thought of the possibility. He glanced at Anton. “Have you had a chance to go through the files and find my notes?”

Anton shook his head and raised the slice of pizza he held. “Thought I’d have something to eat first. Why?”

“Because I want you to uncover what identity
checks were done for Vannah Harvey and Nelle James in the early stages of the original investigation.”

Anton frowned. “There must have been checks. I mean, you didn’t go in blind and randomly select a target, did you?”

“No, but there wasn’t much in the folders I was given on Vannah and Nelle, other than photos, names, and position in the group.”

Trista reached across the table and picked up a slice of pizza of her own. “But it’s standard procedure that all possible cross-checks are done before sending an agent undercover. If they came up empty, it would have raised suspicions.”

Anton’s frown deepened. “And considering you were the one going undercover, I would have thought someone would have told you if there were doubts about your target’s identity.”

“I’d have thought so, too.” He rubbed a hand across his jaw, wincing when he hit the darkening bruise. Still, a bruise added to the cover, because people would focus on that more than his actual features. “While you’re checking the files, do a cross-check on Oliver James, too.”

Trista raised her eyebrows. “Why? Oliver quit the IIS with a spotless record, didn’t he?”

Cade nodded. “Eight years ago. He’s apparently living in Florida nowadays.”

“So why run a check on him?”

“Because I’m curious.” He glanced at Anton. “And because if I was right all those years ago and there
was
a second person involved, then maybe Vannah wasn’t the only reason it almost went to hell.”

“Hang on,” Trista said. “I’m missing something.
How did our head ranger almost cause it to all go to hell?”

Cade grimaced. “Nelle was Vannah’s best friend, and I believe she warned Nelle that I was going after Jontee. I think Nelle then warned Jontee, who ambushed and almost succeeded in killing me.”

“So why wasn’t she charged for impeding an investigation? Why wasn’t a warrant issued for her?”

“Because there was no evidence that Nelle was involved with Jontee in any way other than sexually. You can’t get a warrant without evidence. Besides, Oliver had his man and a confession, and that’s all he cared about.”

“That’s not good policing—if there was even the remotest possibility that someone else was involved, it should have been pursued.”

“Yes. But I’m not casting doubts on Oliver or his part of the investigation. I just want to know why there was no serious background information on Vannah and Nelle, that’s all.”

“Because you have a hunch,” Anton said.

“And in the past,” Trista muttered, “those hunches have proven amazingly accurate. You realize the problems this will cause? Oliver has a lot of friends in the department.”

“I’m just asking you to check, nothing more. I don’t expect to find anything.” He glanced at his watch. “Now I’d better get going. Buzz me if anything urgent comes up.”

“Enjoy the club,” Trista said, her voice dry.

He glanced at her. “It’s for work.”

“I’m sure it is,” she said, and took a bite of the pizza. Unfortunately, it didn’t quite hide her grin.

Obviously, he hadn’t been as discreet about Savannah as he’d presumed. But knowing that saying anything would only make it worse—and deepen Trista’s amusement—he simply turned and walked out of the room.

Snow had begun falling during his brief time indoors, and it coated the road with a slushy mix that quickly froze under the evening’s chill. He hesitated, glancing at the car—knowing that if the weather continued like this, the roads would quickly become as icy as a skating rink. He glanced at his watch. He still had forty-five minutes before their target was due to arrive. And even though the night was freezing, he felt the sudden need to run, to stretch his legs and feel the chill ruffling his coat as the snow drifted past his nose.

He glanced at the sky a final time, then shifted shape and loped toward Main Street.

T
HE BASE-HEAVY THUMP
of music rode the night, and the smell of sweat and lust mingled freely in the air, stirring Savannah’s memories as much as her senses.

Rosehall had smelled much like this.

It was the freedom to be yourself, to follow your desires, without having to worry about the consequences your actions might have on others.

In her teenage years, there’d been few places where a young wolf with moon fever could go other than the dances at the Sinclair mansion. And as much as she’d wanted to rebel against her father’s strictures, she hadn’t wanted to ruin his standing in the community.

When she’d heard of Rosehall, it had seemed an ideal way to satisfy her deeper hungers without having to worry about her dad’s reputation—or his anger. And it
had
been a magical, liberating experience—at least until Cade had arrived, taunting her with possibilities that could never be.

She shivered as she shifted back to human shape in the shadows leading up to the nightclub’s front entrance. But it wasn’t the chill of the night that had caused the shiver, but rather the direction of her thoughts. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about Cade and all that had transpired in the past? Why did she have to keep tormenting herself with the pain of dreams long since dead? He cared for nothing more than his own needs, as he’d amply proved tonight. So why couldn’t she let it all go and simply enjoy the moment?

Because the heart is a funny creature,
Neva’s voice whispered into her mind.
And often a stubborn one. Part of you loves him still, Sav
.

No, part of me still loves the idea of love. It loves something that, in reality, was little more than a shadow and a lie
.

Neva’s doubts swam through Savannah’s thoughts, but all she actually said was
You need to talk to him
.

I know, but right now I’m a little busy trying to catch a murderer.
She paused.
Are you and Duncan safely ensconced in the mansion?

And a breezy goddamn hole it is in this weather, too. Duncan’s had to set roaring fires in both the fireplaces in his rooms just to warm me
.

I’m surprised he didn’t warm you in a more intimate manner.…

Oh, he did.
Neva’s mind-voice was filled with amusement.
But as good as we are together, sex can only last so long. Especially when the kids start kicking. How long am I expected to stay here?

Until we catch our killer
.

And why is this killer coming after you?

As revenge for something he thinks I’ve done
.

Rosehall?

Savannah blinked, though she wasn’t sure why she was surprised at how much her sister knew. After all, Neva had always been the stronger of the two of them when it came to telepathy.
Just how much have you been reading in my mind lately?

Neva’s laughter swam through her, warm as summer sunshine.
Not much. Certainly not when it started getting interesting
.

Just as well, or I’d have to warn the pups their mom’s a voyeur
.

Neva’s amusement deepened momentarily, and then fell away.
What about Mom and Dad?

Savannah blew out a mental breath.
I haven’t warned them yet
.

You’ve been avoiding it
.

Yes
. Although she wasn’t ashamed of her actions at Rosehall, her dad would be. And as contradictory as it was—especially since she’d gone to Rosehall in rebellion
against
her dad’s rules—she didn’t want to lose his respect. Rosehall was in the past, and the rebellion that had driven her there had since died.

Hadn’t it?

I’ll talk to them later tonight
, she continued, trying to ignore the thought that maybe the problems she’d had with her father were no deader than the wildness.
It might be wise for them to get out of town for a while
.

Dad’s never going to do that willingly
.

Whatever his faults, he loves Mom. He’ll do it for her
.

I hope you’re taking similar precautions with your own safety
.

Ronan’s looking into it
.

That man is a gem
.

And one she loved, but not in the way he deserved to be loved. He was right to end it now. The simple truth was that they were both using the other as a crutch, finding safety in each other’s arms rather than facing life and love again. She was going to miss their particular closeness, and yet part of her rejoiced.

Maybe, after ten long years, she was finally ready to face it all again.

But was she, for all her tough words, ready to face up to Cade and everything he’d done—and everything
she’d
done? Because there was no doubt she had to do both of those if she wanted to move past the hurt.