Darkmoon (#5) (The Cain Chronicles) (21 page)

Was that it, then? Did that mean she had to choose Abel?

She watched his silhouette continue to pace beyond the tree. Seth was with him now, and even at that distance, even in the dark, it was easy to tell them apart. Abel was taller, broader, and brooding. Seth’s posture was more open, with his arms akimbo. He looked like he was probably talking at Abel.

Her boyfriend beside the father of her babies.

She felt dizzy.

As if the babies could sense her emotions, they gave a hard tumble. She smoothed her hand over the bulging skin. “Have you told anyone?” Rylie asked, voice thick with unshed tears.

“You’re the first.”

“So let’s keep it that way,” she said. Stephanie raised an eyebrow. “Just…please don’t tell anybody for now.”

“Very well.” She put her keys in the ignition. “I’m going to go back to California. The coven’s still trying to recover from Cain’s last attack, and they’ll need a leader now that my father is gone. I hope that you have a wonderful life with those twins of yours.”

“Thank you.”

Rylie got out of the car and waited until Stephanie’s Lexus vanished before she turned to face Seth and Abel.

She couldn’t put it off any longer. She had to talk to them.

Seth kept an eye on
Rylie as she got into Stephanie’s Lexus. He didn’t think that Rylie would try to run away; she had been more enthusiastic about the idea of the Haven than anyone else. But after his momentary panic earlier, when Brody had shown up in town alone, he wasn’t prepared to let Rylie out of his sight again so soon.

“Your eyes are going to fall out of your head,” Abel said.

He returned his attention to his brother. Jokes aside, he still looked miserable. “What’s the problem?” Seth asked.

“You said that you had Cain under control. That your Union friend was going to put him behind bars permanently. I wasn’t expecting him to team up with the Union and attack us again.”

“Something must have happened to Yasir. I haven’t heard from him in months.”

“Yeah, because that helps us now,” Abel said, rolling his eyes. “What is it with our family? Mom didn’t stay dead. Cain didn’t stay arrested.”

Seth could only manage a faint smile. It really wasn’t funny. “We have stubborn genetics. But you’re not this upset because of Cain. Something’s been bothering you for days.”

Abel paced for a few more minutes without speaking, although it looked like he wanted to. It was easier to read his expressions now that his scars were half-healed; he could actually move the eyebrow and jaw muscles on the damaged side again. Maybe after two more years of super werewolf healing, he wouldn’t have any scars at all.

When he finally spoke, it was in a low whisper. Quiet enough that the pack wouldn’t be able to hear him. “I couldn’t change tonight. The pack was in trouble, we lost people, and I couldn’t change.” His golden eyes burned with anger. “If I was Alpha, I could change on my own. But I can’t. I’m not Rylie’s mate, I’m not the Alpha, and I can’t…”

Abel grabbed a rock and whipped it over the field. It bounced and disappeared into the tall grass.

“Most werewolves can’t control the change, man,” Seth said. “It doesn’t mean you’re weak.”

“You know what? You’re good, Seth. You’re better than me. I’ve thought about doing things to you—awful things. You know, trying to get you out of the picture, so I could keep Rylie for myself.” He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, unable to meet Seth’s eyes. “You goddamn goody two-shoes punk.”

“Abel…”

His brother stepped away, shaking his head. “I never should have said what I did at the wedding in the first place. I’m a selfish asshole.”

“Yeah,” Seth said with a shrug. “How’s that different from the first twenty years of our lives? I’ve been pissed at you for a long time, Abel, and I’m not going to argue with anything you’ve said. But don’t beat yourself up for what happened tonight. It’s not your fault.”

“I don’t care about ‘what happened tonight.’ I only care about her.” Abel jabbed a finger toward the Lexus. “And I’m not good enough.” He curled his hand into a fist. “I can’t watch you have a happy family with Rylie. Like I said, I’m too goddamn selfish. I’m not going to the Haven. All right? I’ll help you rescue the pack tomorrow, and that’s it. We’re done.”

Seth thought that announcement probably should have made him happy. His brother, the asshole that had tried to steal his girlfriend while he was away at college, had just flashed the white flag. Called it quits.

No more competition. No more heartache.

But he thought of the way that Rylie watched Abel from across the room, and the way that Abel watched her back. If he was going to be honest with himself, he never saw Rylie happier than when she was with his brother. She definitely didn’t smile for Seth like that anymore.

And Rylie made Abel happy, too. She made him want to be a better person.

What was that if it wasn’t love?

Seth was pretty sure that the competition had already been over for months—and not in his favor. It was an ugly thought. He had been trying not to contemplate it for a while. But as much as it killed him, he couldn’t let his brother leave. Not when Abel was the only one who made Rylie smile.

James had been right: there was nothing worse than being alone. Seth couldn’t let that happen to his brother.

“Look, Abel…” Seth began.

“Hey, guys.”

They both turned at the same time. Somehow, Rylie had crept up on them. She was still graceful and silent, even while swollen with pregnancy, and Seth’s heart ached to see her. Every day she carried those babies made her even more beautiful. It was like she held the light of the moon within her skin.

All Seth could manage to say was, “Hi.” But Abel walked away without as much as a word. He had long legs. Within moments, he started to disappear into the night.

Rylie stared after him, looking sick and heartbroken. “Where’s he going?”

“I think he’s just getting some air.”

“We’ve been outside for hours. How could he need more air?” She gripped Seth’s arm, fingers digging into his bicep. “You’re not telling me something. Where is Abel going? What did he say?”

He couldn’t lie to Rylie when she looked like that. “He’s not going anywhere for now. He said he would help save Bekah and Levi tomorrow. But…he also said that he’s not coming with us to the Haven.”

Rylie’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” Seth said, and he was surprised to mean it. Watching Rylie well up with tears was too painful, so he quickly changed subjects. “What did Stephanie want?”

She swallowed hard. “Nothing. She was just saying goodbye.”

N
INETEEN

The Rescue

Rylie and Brody left for
the Haven the next morning, before the sun had even risen. He had run into town overnight and gotten a car somewhere—Rylie wasn’t sure that she wanted to know where, exactly—and they took to the road without saying goodbye to the pack.

“No point in saying goodbye when we’ll be back together tonight,” Seth said, holding Rylie’s hand as she climbed into the car. She was reluctant to leave without talking to Abel, but he was nowhere in sight. Maybe he didn’t want to see her anymore.

Seth bent toward her. Rylie lifted her face to kiss him, but he only brushed his lips over her cheek.

An hour later, the trees began to thicken as they entered the mountains, and she found herself touching the place that Seth had kissed.

Why had he turned aside at the last moment?

“Do you need a pit stop, ma’am?” Brody asked. He should have been exhausted after getting struck by an SUV, running into town twice, and going without sleep for at least a day, but his golden eyes were clear and bright.

“I’m fine,” she said, forcing herself to stop touching her cheek. “And you don’t have to call me ‘ma’am.’ I’m only nineteen.”

“It’s a sign of respect. Age isn’t a factor in that.”

Rylie glared at the trees flying past them. The sun was beginning to peek through the branches, and it cast dappled light on the car. “I don’t think I’ve done anything worth respecting.”

“Maybe not. I haven’t known you long. But how many nineteen year old girls can lead a pack of werewolves? How many teenage girls even survive the bite in the first place? The number’s few, I’d guess.” Brody’s hands tightened on the wheel, making the leather creek. “I almost didn’t survive. I was twenty-seven, and I spent my entire life thinking that I was tough as hell…until those first three months of the change.”

She tilted her head to the side to watch him. She had been thinking so much about Seth and Abel’s weird behavior that she hadn’t even considered where her bodyguard might have come from. “Do you mind if I ask how you got bitten? There aren’t many werewolves left.”

“It was my sister. She got it from somewhere else—on a trip to Turkey. Brought it back with her.”

“Where is she now?” Rylie asked.

He glanced sideways at her. “She didn’t survive the first three months.”

“Oh.” She twisted her hands together, staring down at her stomach as the babies bumped gently from side to side with the motion of the car. She wished she hadn’t asked. “I’m sorry about your girlfriend.”

Brody reached out to turn on the radio. “No need to be sorry. That’s life for you. Now, what kind of—
shit
!”

Rylie looked up to see what had made him shout, and all of the blood rushed out of her head at once.

Two black SUVs blocked both lanes of the highway, and they were moving in fast.

“Hang onto something!” Brody shouted.

She clung to the handhold over the door as he yanked the emergency brake, twisted the wheel, and sent the car spinning one hundred and eighty degrees. The smell of burned rubber filled her nostrils as the tires squealed.

He straightened them out facing the other direction and stomped the gas. They tore down the highway with Rylie’s back plastered to the seat and her knuckles white on the dashboard.

But they didn’t get far.

They crested a hill that they had passed only moments earlier to see two more Union vehicles approaching from the opposite direction. Which of them was Cain riding in? Or had he only sent his army this time?

“Brody,” she said in a low, warning voice.

“I see them. Seat belt?”

She double checked the buckle. “I’m good.”

“This is going to be bumpy, ma’am,” Brody said. “I apologize.” Always the gentleman.

They flew off the shoulder and into the trees.

Brody cut straight through the forest and angled for the denser trees higher on the mountain. Rylie shut her eyes, gritted her teeth, and hung tight as the car jittered over the uneven ground. It was an old Taurus, and not meant to go off-road, but Brody navigated them through the trees without getting caught on anything.

Unfortunately, the SUVs were better prepared for rough terrain. The first one appeared in Rylie’s side mirror. It was gaining quickly.

“Look behind your seat,” Brody said.

Rylie craned around to see a shoebox on the floor. She pulled it into her lap and was about to open the lid when the car glanced off of a tree trunk. Her shoulder banged against the door.

An SUV plowed toward their side. Brody almost spun out trying to get away.

As soon as they were clear, he rolled down his window.

She finally flung the lid of the shoebox aside and found a gun. It was black, small, and fit her hand well. Brody held out a hand. She gave it to him.

Keeping a knee braced against the steering wheel, he leaned out of the window of the car, fired off three shots, and then dropped back into his seat.

Rylie watched the SUV just behind them swerve, stop, and then vanish as Brody steered them higher onto the mountain. “Holy crap,” she said. She had thought that he couldn’t do anything more impressive than catching an SUV with his bare hands, but James Bond-style shooting was getting close. “What did you say that you used to do for a living?”

He winked at her. “Odd jobs. Can you shoot?”

Her last close encounter with a gun had been when she thought she couldn’t stand being a werewolf anymore and contemplated suicide. She had stolen one of the guns and learned all of the parts—the safety, the trigger, the business end—and thought that she could operate one. She never tested the theory. Abel had figured out what she was doing and taken it from her.

Firing was one thing. Aiming, on the other hand…?

“Yes?” she said in a tiny voice.

He handed her the gun. “Good time to practice.” His voice sharpened. “Duck.”

Rylie folded over as much as she could. A second later, the rear passenger window shattered. Bullets whizzed overhead and punched through the other side.

Her heart pounded in the back of her throat. She kept taking deep breaths, Lamaze breathing, just like she had practiced with Bekah and Stephanie. She couldn’t risk panic.

“You’re good,” Brody said. “There’s a vehicle at your four o’clock.”

Rylie knew that term from playing video games with Tate. She twisted to the right, like she was in the center of a clock, and looked at where the four would be. An SUV bore down on them from above.

She wrapped her arm around the headrest to aim out the place the back window used to be.
Deep breaths
.

Rylie pulled the trigger.

The explosion of a gunshot was so much louder when she held the gun. It bucked in her hand, hurt her wrist, and made her fingers hot. She also didn’t hit anything. “Nice try,” Brody said, even though he wasn’t watching. He was glaring at the trees and swerving like crazy to avoid them.

Rylie popped off two more shots. One of them even hit the windshield in the top left corner.

The SUV kept coming.

Before she could try again, Brody swore loudly, and the car came to a jolting stop. She slid into the dashboard.

The engine ticked and hissed. The wheels whirred.

They weren’t going anywhere.

Three Union SUVs circled around them, and the panic that Rylie had been fighting so hard since she first spotted them began to choke her. “Gun,” Brody said, and she handed it back to him just in time. Her stomach clenched hard as soon as she released the grip.