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Authors: Unknown

BOOK: Dragon Moon
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“And our help. Maybe he even wants to be friends. I’m guessing he’s been alone for a long time.”

 

“If you’re wrong, we’re in trouble,” Logan muttered.

 

Ross turned back to him. “Any way you look at it, we’re in trouble. Apparently, he discovered Kenna long before we got here. He knows about all of us now. He could come after us if he wanted, but I don’t think that’s how he operates. So we might as well try to set the ground rules for the relationship. While we still have some bargaining power.”

 

There were murmurs of agreement.

 

“Maybe we’d better go in one car,” Antonia suggested.

 

After Logan pulled the other vehicle to the side of the road, they all squeezed into the SUV Ross was driving.

 

Two of the men had to sit in the back. When they were all settled as best they could, the vehicle started up the narrow road that led to the chalet. They didn’t get very far before they came to a heavy iron gate blocking the way. The mountain rose on one side, and a sheer drop fell away on the other.

 

“Well, I guess you don’t get anyone to deliver pizza,” Talon said.

 

“Just a moment,” Gallagher’s voice issued from a speaker on the gate.

 

The gate swung open, and they drove through. When they were on the other side, it clanked closed behind them.

 

“Or escape with the family jewels,” Logan added.

 

They drove up a winding gravel road that was probably deadly in winter. Even now, the loose gravel and the lack of a guardrail made the journey treacherous.

 

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into a parking area in front of the chalet. “At least there’s room to turn around,” Ross said.

 

Kenna studied the house. It was built of stone, with a high peaked roof, and she thought that it was probably bigger than it looked, with some of the structure below ground or built into the side of the mountain. She saw no other vehicles, but there was a wide garage door in front.

 

All of them got out, the men with their guns in their hands.

 

Gallagher came out the front door. He was wearing well-worn jeans and a navy T-shirt and looking totally at home in this world.

 

“Come in.”

 

They followed him across the porch and into a large reception area. Kenna looked around and gasped when she saw one of the pictures hanging on the wall.

 

Gallagher turned toward her. “What?”

 

She pointed. “That picture. Vandar has the same one in his cave.”

 

Ross walked up to the painting. “It’s a Monet. Where did you get it?”

 

“I bought it at an auction in Paris, in the mid-1800s.”

 

“Before the timelines split,” Renata said. “So he’s still got it, too.”

 

“You’re an art collector?” Ross asked, looking into the sitting room off the reception area where several more paintings hung.

 

Gallagher gestured. “Yes. I’ve got several Picassos, some Van Goghs, some Modiglianis. As well as artists who didn’t turn out to be as famous.” He looked back at them. “Come in and sit down. I’m sorry that I can’t offer you any refreshments besides water.”

 

“Because you drink blood,” Kenna said in a gritty voice.

 

The room grew very silent as all of the werewolves instinctively moved closer to their mates.

 

Gallagher turned toward her. “Yes. In my early life, I did live on the same food as humans, and I wasn’t very healthy. Then I discovered that blood was my natural sustenance.”

 

“And you kill to get it?” Logan asked.

 

He gave the werewolf a hard look. “I did. But my life-style has evolved over the years. I don’t need to kill. And I don’t need to drink human blood. I maintain a herd of deer up here in the mountains. I tap them for food. Much as the Masai tribesmen in Africa tap their cattle.”

 

Kenna stared at him. “Vandar always kills. He wants the people to be scared of him.”

 

Gallagher turned to her. “I went through a period like that. I . . . changed. I discovered morality.” Before anybody could ask another question, he said, “Let’s sit down.”

 

They walked into what Talon would have called the living room, although it was furnished much differently from his own lodge, with elegant chairs and sofas that must have come from earlier ages.

 

Each of the werewolves sat with his mate. And Ross and Gallagher took chairs by the window.

 

Gallagher turned to Kenna. “From your mind, I picked up a lot about Vandar. He thrives on power.”

 

“And he wants more territory. Which is why he plans to come here.”

 

“I don’t really understand how he’d do that if this universe is separate from the other one,” Gallagher said.

 

Rinna answered. “He’d come through a portal between the worlds. The way I did. A strong group of adepts can open them.”

 

When his brow wrinkled, she went on quickly. “Nobody here could open a portal. The other world is more primitive on an industrial level, but the psychics there are strong because they’re recognized in childhood and taught to perfect their talents. Still, it takes more than one person for a task that big.”

 

“Vandar has adepts who did that,” Kenna said. “If we attacked his stronghold, they’d fight for him.”

 

“Why?”

 

Talon could tell she was struggling to keep her voice steady. Gallagher might not be Vandar, but he was too close for her comfort. “Because they fear what will happen if they defy him. But it’s more than that. If you’re one of his slaves, he gets into your mind and forces you to do his bidding. You might want to resist, but you can’t. He sent me here to spy on this world in preparation for an invasion—before Renata and the other women freed my mind from his power.”

 

Ross said, “He wanted her to bring back guns for his soldiers to use in a conventional fight. But we don’t know exactly what he has in mind. I’m assuming he’d come through and start taking over people’s minds, the way he did in his own universe. We want to prevent that from happening.”

 

“So what are you proposing exactly?” Gallagher asked.

 

“I wish I knew,” Ross answered. “For right now, I’d like to know you’re on our side.”

 

The dragon-shifter kept his gaze steady. “Let me think about it.”

 

“For how long?”

 

“You’re asking me to risk my life by challenging him.”

 

“I guess that’s right,” Ross answered. “Vandar has to be stopped from establishing a beachhead in this world, one way or the other.”

 

“You should go home. I’ll contact you in a few days,” Gallagher said.

 

“Go home? So you can attack us there?” Logan asked.

 

“I can attack you here. I’m not going after you.”

 

“But you may not be willing to join us,” Ross clarified.

 

He sounded sincere when he said, “I’m sorry. I have to consider my options carefully.”

 

 

RAMSAY hoped his face didn’t reflect the turmoil churning inside him. The Marshalls had come here to ask for his help in exterminating a beast called Vandar, and he believed what they’d told him about the monster, especially because it wasn’t all talk. He’d shared Kenna’s memories, and he understood what she’d been through during her months of slavery.

 

He repressed a shudder. It was a little inconvenient that he was the beast in question—if you believed that timeline business. Although he had never gone as far in his hostile relations with humans as the thing that had captured Kenna, he’d come closer than he’d like to admit. But he had fought the monster inside himself and won.

 

Ross’s voice intruded into his thoughts. “Don’t wait too long.”

 

He kept his own tone even. “Give me forty-eight hours.”

 

“If you fly out to Pennsylvania, will it be under your own power, or do you take a jet?” the one named Logan asked, his tone mocking.

 

“A jet.” Ramsay forced a laugh. “I don’t want to end up getting shot down as an unidentified flying object.”

 

Ross glanced at Logan, then at Ramsay. “I think we’ll stay in Colorado for a few days rather than going home. That way, if you decide to join us, you can get in on the strategy session. I’ll give you our hotel information when we get settled.”

 

Logan looked like he wanted to object. But he didn’t buck Ross, who was obviously the leader of the wolf pack. Ramsay wanted to ask about their relationships, but he figured there was no way to bring up the subject with the werewolves. Maybe one of the women would be willing to tell him. Or not.

 

It was a long time since he’d formed any close relationships with people, and he wasn’t certain he could start over again.

 

They skipped the usual pleasantries that humans exchange on parting. Instead, the Marshalls and their mates turned and quietly left the chalet, then climbed into the SUV and started down the access road.

 

As he watched, he was certain they were discussing him. And the monster.

 

Having the Marshalls in his private refuge had been an invasion of his privacy, and he allowed relief to flood through him that they were gone. He had options. He could pull up stakes and simply disappear, and they would never find him. He’d done it before. It would be easy enough to do again.

 

But was that his best course of action? He thought about the extraordinary and disturbing conversation they’d just had, starting with the time line that Renata had given him. From what she said, things had started diverging in 1893. The chaos she described hadn’t happened here. Thank the gods. If it had, would he have ended up like Vandar?

 

And what did he mean by the question?

 

He pictured himself walking down the hall and throwing belongings into a suitcase, like a thief escaping from the police. He could blow this place up with the charges he’d set long ago at the base of the foundation. That would obliterate any clues to his presence here—before he moved on to one of the other properties he owned.

 

Could the Marshalls find him?

 

That was an interesting question. A few years ago, the answer would have been “no.” The Internet had made it more difficult to vanish into the mass of humanity.

 

But he wasn’t going to disappear without carefully considering his options. That was why he’d asked for the forty-eight hours.

 

He wanted to think about the monster. And about himself. And the irony of his situation. For years he had considered that he had no enemies who could defeat him. Now there might be one—and it was himself.

 

Hadn’t there been a cartoon character about twenty or thirty years ago who had said something like, “We have met the enemy, and it is us”?

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY

 

“WILL HE HELP us?” Renata asked as the SUV headed down the narrow gravel road with the steep drop-off on one side and the rock face on the other.

 

“I don’t know,” Ross answered as he focused on the treacherous track. “Let’s see if we can get past the gate before we start speculating about anything else.”

 

“We can shoot the hinges,” Logan muttered.

 

“It’s better if we don’t have to destroy it,” Ross answered.

 

“Yes. If he lets us go, that will be a good sign,” Kenna whispered.

 

They stopped talking, riding in tense silence to the iron gate. Kenna felt her heart pounding. She glanced at Talon, then looked out the window, scanning the sky, half expecting to see a great winged creature circling above them.

 

But Van—
She stopped herself from calling him by that name and started again.
He wasn’t Vandar. He was Ramsay Gallagher.

 

What did a change of name mean, really? Or a change in where he lived?

 

She felt her heart blocking her windpipe as Ross rolled down the window and reached for the button on the stanchion.

 

For a moment, nothing happened, and she sat stock-still in her seat. Then the gate began to swing noiselessly open on oiled hinges.

 

When they drove out, she felt like a fifty-pound weight had been lifted off her chest.

 

Nobody spoke for several minutes, then Talon asked, “How much is he like Vandar?”

 

She moistened her lips and answered, “I’ve been trying to figure that out. He looks like Vandar. I mean, when he’s in his dragon form, you’d think it was him. When he’s a man, he’s the same in a lot of ways. The same dark hair, but Gallagher’s hair is a lot longer. And the look in his eyes is different.”

 

“You mean he doesn’t look like he’s deciding whether to eat you for lunch?” Talon asked.

 

She gave a nervous laugh. “I guess that’s a good way to put it.”

 

“The question is, can we trust him?” Logan said.

 

“Or, more to the point, can we work with him?” Ross amended.

 

“What if he turns on us?” Logan asked.

 

“He could have done it already.”

 

“Agreed,” Talon said. “I guess the big question for me is, can he defeat Vandar?”

 

“Maybe they’ll end up killing each other. Then the trust problem will be out of the way,” Logan answered.

 

Kenna shifted in her seat. “I don’t like to plan on using him.”

 

“Maybe he’s thinking in terms of using us,” Logan said.

 

She nodded, wondering how this was all going to turn out. “The problem is, we have to get rid of Vandar, whether Gallagher will help us or not.”

 

There were murmurs of agreement around the car.

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