Dark Moon (15 page)

Struggling to keep from cursing aloud, she paced back and forth across the carpet in the luxury suite, her hands clenched into fists as she tried to contain her roiling emotions.

Where the hell was that bastard who was supposed to be her partner on this assignment? He’d left hours ago, and she had no idea where he had gone. Was he out there on Bruno Del Conte’s pleasure craft having the time of his life? Or had he gotten himself into trouble? And now he needed her. Only she had no idea where to even start looking for him.

That thought made her chest clench. She was worried about him with an all-consuming anxiety that threatened to drive her insane.

It was almost impossible to keep herself from charging out of the room and start searching for him. But her rational self knew that was a very bad idea.

Which meant she was reduced to silent cursing. And brooding.

“Damn you,” she muttered aloud, wondering if somebody was watching her or listening. And laughing their ass off because she was just another bimbo who’d been brought here by a boyfriend who found the ship’s delights more tempting than his old familiar partner.

But what if he needed her? Again her stomach clenched. Too bad he wasn’t wearing a transponder so she could track him. But there hadn’t been time for that kind of advanced preparation.

oOo

Cole lay on the bed, listening to the conversation around him. He was sure the people talking were standing right there beside him, but their voices seemed to be coming to him from far away.

“I’m talking to you, loser. Pay attention. Who did you come here with?”

He struggled to wrap his mouth around the answer.

“Emma.”

“Emma who?”

“Emma . . . Ray.” He thought about it for a moment. “That’s a weird name, don’t you think?” he muttered, then wondered why he’d volunteered the information

“Did she have another name before you brought her to the
Windward
?”

“Huh?”

“Is that her real name.”

“Unless she lied to me,” he answered. He laughed at his own witticism.

“What’s your business on the
Windward
,” the guy said. Had he asked that question before? How many questions had he asked? Were they going over everything again? Cole couldn’t be sure.

“Your business on the
Windward
,” the guy prompted.

“Did you ask me that before?”

“Yeah. Answer me.”

“Not business, pleasure,” he muttered, struggling to hold it together. He closed his eyes, drifting. Did he hear another question? Or was that just something echoing in his head?

The man named Ben shook him hard, his voice insistent, but Cole did his best to ignore the distraction. He was done with answering.

“You’d better be straight with me,” the man said. It sounded like he was shouting in Cole’s ear.

“Let me sleep,” he muttered.

“I don’t think we’re going to get anything more out of him,” the interrogator said. “Not right now. Maybe with something stronger. Go get the . . .”

He didn’t hear what it was.

“I need authorization,” the woman answered. “That stuff can really mess with his mind.”

“I’m giving you authorization,” Ben snapped. “If Mickey has any objections, tell him to call me.”

Cole had stopped paying attention to the conversation, but he sensed the woman walking away from the bed. When the door closed behind her, Cole hoped they’d leave him alone for a while.

Instead Ben gripped his shoulder and shook him hard.

“Cut it out.”

“Let’s try again, while she’s gone.”

“No.”

“You don’t get a choice. I said, we’re trying again.”

“Let me sleep.”

 In a surprising move, the guy slapped him hard across the face. The ringing blow stung. Cole blinked, his mind swimming back to some semblance of coherence.

“What the hell?’

“Did I get your attention, buddy?” the man said in a harsh voice.

Cole tensed.

When the guy pulled back his hand again, Cole rolled away and came up swinging.

Putting everything he could into the blow, he connected with Ben’s jaw, and the man fell back, sprawling on the floor.

Cole stared at him, trying to make his mind work. “Got to get out of here,” he muttered as he pushed himself off the bed and staggered toward the door.

He didn’t entirely understand what was happening, but he knew that he had to get away before the woman came back—and they gave him something that was going to make him feel worse.

Somehow he stayed on his feet and staggered toward the door.

It seemed impossibly far away, but finally he made it across the carpet, then into the corridor where he stood swaying. He didn’t have much time. The woman might come back at any minute, and he’d better not be here when she did.

oOo

Cole steadied himself with a hand against the wall, struggling to clear his head as he inched along. He was in danger of falling on his face with every step, but he was also desperate to get out of the hallway.

“Oh Christ,” he muttered as he kept stumbling along.

Did he hear footsteps? Was the woman coming back? With the drug that was going to mess with his brain even more. He couldn’t let her catch him.

Gritting his teeth, he picked up his pace and made it to the next door. Praying that it was unlocked, he twisted the knob. At least he’d been granted a bit of luck. The door opened, and he tumbled inside, closing the barrier behind him. He flopped to the carpet, breathing hard, struggling not to pass out. But the exertion had wiped out the last of his strength, and he lost the battle for consciousness.

oOo

Stella stepped back into the interrogation room, looking around in confusion. “What the hell happened? Where is he?”

From where he sat on the rug with his back pressed against the side of the bed, Ben looked up into Stella’s incredulous face.

He made an angry sound. “The bastard decked me and got away.”

“How could he deck you? He was in pretty bad shape.”

“I made a mistake and got rough with him. I guess it woke him up enough to fight me off.”

“And he knocked you out?”

“Don’t rub it in.”

She kept her gaze fixed on him. “We were supposed to get the real dope on his background. I’d like to be there when you explain to Del Conte how you screwed up.”

Ben scowled at her. “It’s my problem, not yours. I’ll take care of it.” He cleared his throat. “But you were here during the interrogation. He gave all the right answers. Lying would be impossible after drinking that stuff.”

“Then why did you want to give him something stronger?”

“As a precaution.” He sighed. “This would have been a quick fix. But I’ll keep digging into his background. And Emma Ray’s. Maybe that’s the only way to break his story.”

“Are we going to look for him?”

“For now, let’s leave him on the loose and see where he turns up. If he’s gone to ground somewhere, we can start searching.”

 “Can he make it back to his room, do you think?”

“Maybe. If he does, we should find out something when his honey starts asking questions about where he’s been. Too bad we didn’t douse him with perfume so she could get really mad.”

Stella laughed. “Before he drank the stuff, he seemed uptight.”

“Maybe the drug loosened him up. Maybe he’ll say something he wouldn’t otherwise.”

oOo

 Cole’s eyes snapped open. For long moments he lay very still, dragging in gulps of air and letting them trickle from his lungs as he struggled to figure out why he was lying on the carpet of a room he didn’t remember entering.

Easy
, he told himself.
Take it easy. What’s the last thing you remember?

Walking down a corridor.

And then?

Nothing
.

The absolute void sent a wave of panic surging through him.

He moaned and moved his paw against the carpet.

His paw?

Looking down at his body, he saw gray fur.

Jesus. Somewhere along the line he’d changed to wolf form.

Fighting rising panic, he forced himself to lie very still and catalogue sensations. The soft fibers of the rug under his furry body. The throbbing of powerful engines. The pounding in his head.

There were only two reasons why he would have changed. Because he was in danger. Or for the pleasure of running through the forest.

One thing he knew, there were no forests here. He might not remember the past few . . . hours? But he knew he was on a ship.

The name of the craft came to him. It was the
Windward
. He remembered coming here. With Emma.

Oh Lord, where was Emma?

He wanted to howl, only someone would hear him if he did.

Instead, he tried to bring his recent life into focus; but the memories swimming in his mind were blurry. Had Big Ben been asking him questions? Had he met a woman?

He had a vague recollection of someone with dark hair and a green dress. Was he making that up? If not, what had he done with her?

His throat clenched as he fought to maintain his sanity. Something had happened. Something bad.

In the dim light filtering in through the window, he looked around. He saw a wide bed, a dresser. A door that probably led to a bathroom.

The accommodations were upscale, but not quite as luxurious as the suite he and Emma had been assigned.

As he thought of her, his throat clenched again. They’d been fighting.

Why?

So he could leave the room, he thought, but he wasn’t sure.

But he should never have abandoned her. He started for the door, then remembered he couldn’t turn the damn knob with his paw. Or walk the corridors of the ship, for that matter. When they’d first arrived and heard gunshots, they’d been told that an animal had escaped.

Were there really animals here? And even if the explanation was a lie, a lone wolf was going to attract attention.

Yeah, right.

He forced himself to stand on legs that weren’t quite steady. His mouth was dry as cotton and tasted awful. He needed a drink, but he couldn’t get one until he changed.

Quickly he began to say the chant that changed him from wolf to man. Of course he couldn’t speak it aloud as a wolf. But the familiar words surged through his head.

Taranis, Epona, Cerridwen
, he recited, then repeated the same phrase and went on to another.

Soon his body would begin to change, the fur transmuting to skin. Muscles and tendons transforming from those of a wolf to a man.

Ga. Feart. . .

The sound of a doorknob turning had him stopping in mid-sentence.

Someone was coming into the room.

He hadn’t gotten halfway through the chant, and he was still a wolf. Could he hide? Crawl behind the bed?

No. A wolf didn’t hide. A wolf stood his ground.

A man stepped into the room and flipped on the light. A man wearing the uniform of Del Conte’s security force.

He and the wolf both blinked in the sudden brightness.

“What the hell?”

 There was a moment of astonishment when the man stared at the savage beast. Then his training kicked in, and a gun materialized in his hand.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Before the man could get the gun into firing position, the wolf leaped on him, knocking him to the floor.

He might have gone for the gun hand, but then what? He didn’t even have to think. He acted on instinct, his sharp teeth slashing through the flesh and bone of the man’s neck.

He made a gurgling noise, struggling to fire his weapon. But it was already too late. The wolf’s teeth slashed through the carotid artery.

Blood spurted, and the wolf sucked it in, caught in the exhilaration of the battle. It was over quickly.

As the man went still, the wolf stepped back, staring down at his prey.

But the wolf’s thoughts fought the human insights in Cole’s mind. He had killed. In self defense. Still, he had to deal with the consequences.

The fight had been brief, but it had weakened him. He dropped to the rug, panting, gathering his strength.

When he felt a little better, he staggered across the room and looked out, staying well back.

Mercifully, nobody was in the hall. What if a guest had been out there? Would he have had to kill him too?

He thrust that thought from his mind as he pushed the door closed with his head, waiting a minute while he gathered his resources again.

Then he began the chant that had been interrupted, feeling his muscles and tendons jerk, tasting blood in his mouth as he transformed into a naked man. Sucking air into his lungs, he staggered across the carpet toward the door and turned the lock.