Marked by the Moon (25 page)

Alex fought, but Cade was no longer the lame little brother. She understood now that he never had been.

“You pretended to be a science geek—”

“I didn't have to pretend that.” He slashed the knife through the air like Zorro. “I love playing with blood. You would not believe some of the things I've got cooking in my lab. Julian has no idea. He's all brawn. Always has been. I could make a whole new monster with what I've got in
there. Once I'm in charge, I'm going to. Edward won't know what hit him.”

Alex's eyes widened. Maybe Edward hadn't been lying about everything. Maybe it was just that the werewolf army he'd suspected was the brainchild of a different Barlow, and maybe the army wasn't even werewolves at all.

“Were you ever working on a serum to de-evil the other werewolves?”

“I wouldn't do that to them. Why be a werewolf if you can't enjoy killing people?”

“So you lied to your brother about the serum?”

Cade cocked his head, his gaze lowering to her chest. From the flare in his eyes, Alex figured the robe had drooped open.

She glanced down. She'd been right; the slight swell of her breasts was tipped by moonlight.

Another flash of silver and flames erupted from the four-inch slit Cade put in her chest. He'd obviously done this before, because he did it just right. If he cut too deeply she'd be doing a Joan of Arc imitation. Instead he just grazed the surface enough to cause blood to flow down her ribs like rain, putting out the tiny fire and leaving just a little bit of smoke.

“Honey,” Cade murmured, licking his lips, “I lied to my brother about everything.”

 

Boosted by his anger, Julian covered miles in an instant. He would have barreled right into Cade's back if he hadn't seen the flash of silver, caught the scent of flames and blood, then heard his brother's words.

The wolf's body sensed danger. Silver meant fire, and fire would kill. The human mind understood that Cade had a knife, and he was using it on Alex.

But he hadn't killed her yet. Right now he was just playing with her, as a cat might play with a mouse right before he ate it.

And just like a cat, if something bigger threatened to take away that mouse—

Gulp.

So Julian fed his anger with the scent of blood and fear—Who dared mark her but him? Who dared scare her at all?—and he threw up his invisibility cloak just as Cade turned around.

His brother's eyes narrowed. But there was nothing to see.

Cade spun back to Alex. “I've got all night. I can make this last. You'll beg to die. You'll wish you had.”

“Eat me,” Alex muttered.

“Oh, I plan to.”

Cade drew a test tube out of the pocket of his loose sweatpants. “First things first, just in case I get carried away.” He slid his fingers into the belt of the robe, then slid the flat of the knife along the smooth, flat expanse of her stomach. “Hmm,” he said.

“Don't even think about it.”

Cade laughed. “I'll think about what I want and do what I want. My days of listening to anyone are over.”

Alex lifted her eyes and seemed to look right at Julian. But she couldn't know he was there. Except—

He sniffed. When he'd arrived he'd smelled her fear. He'd seen it in the stiff set of her body and the wariness in her eyes. Now…

He smelled blood but no fear. Flames but no panic. She seemed as relaxed as a woman-wolf could be while hanging from a monster truck with a psychotic werewolf running a silver blade over her abs.

“Whoops.” Cade's wrist twitched, and a thin line of red appeared at Alex's waist. She didn't even flinch. Not when he cut her and not when the flames danced along the wound like a thousand tiny tongues.

Cade waited for the flicker of fire to die, then bent and licked the blood. As he straightened he stepped in and captured her mouth with his.

“Urgh,” Alex said, twisting and turning as if she was in greater pain than when she'd been bleeding and burning.

Cade lifted the hand that wasn't holding the knife and cupped her breast, viciously tweaking the nipple until she gasped.

Julian erupted from the invisibility bubble, hands and feet sprouting from paws, even as his snout crunched inward to become both nose and mouth. If anyone had been watching it would have seemed as if he just appeared from thin air, a wolf pouring out of the ether and landing upon the earth as a man.

Before Julian could grasp his brother by the neck and wring it, Cade had danced to the side and the tip of the silver knife hovered just above Alex's jugular.

“That's what I thought,” Cade murmured.

“You are so fucked now,” Alex said.

Julian's eyes widened. She had that much confidence in him? He wasn't sure anyone else ever had.

“Let her go, Cade.”

“I'm done listening to you. She deserves to die for what she did to Alana.”

“Alana was never happy as a wolf.”

“She would have been!” Cade shouted. “If she'd been with me.”

“You were a werewolf, too, Cade,” Julian said softly. “And in the end, she hated it.”

“She would have grown to love it.”

“That's what I thought, what I hoped. But the longer she was one of us—” Julian paused, then admitted the truth. “She was never one of us.”

Alana had never embraced being a werewolf, and once she'd learned the truth that had been denied her—

“Alana wanted to die. If it hadn't been Alex, it would have been someone else.”

“You lie!” Cade roared, and the knife nicked her skin.

Zzzt!

The tiny flame sounded like a bug zapper, but Alex's body jerked as if she'd been jolted by a cattle prod. Silver near a major artery appeared to be a very bad idea.

“Alana's gone,” Julian said. “We can't bring her back. Hurting Alex won't change that.”

“No,” Cade agreed. “But it'll make
me
feel better. And you'll feel better, too, once she's dead. She won't be your mate anymore. You'll be free.”

Julian's eyes met Alex's. Surprisingly, he didn't want to be free if it meant no more her.

“He doesn't care about you,” she said. “He wants me dead so you'll be too sick to fight when he challenges you.”

Cade's lips twitched. “I guess that cat's out of the bag.” He tapped the tip against Alex's neck again, and again flames spurted as she jerked.

“Stop!” Julian shouted despite himself.

Cade ignored him. “Did you know that she's a spy?”

“Right.” Julian's gaze was on Alex's face, concerned at the paleness of it. Which was the only reason he saw the shift in her eyes. He glanced at Cade, who smirked.

“Edward told her that the werewolf who killed her father was here.”

“Is that true?” Julian asked.

Alex straightened her shoulders, the movement giving the impression of lifting her chin, even though she couldn't without risking another painful zap from the knife. “Yes.”

“I could have told you that there was no murderer in my village.”

“Except for him?” She switched her gaze from Julian to Cade.

“She's got you there, bro.”

Julian ignored Cade, his eyes on Alex. “Why didn't you tell me about Edward?”

“I think she made an agreement, Julian. I think she's supposed to give him you.”

He had to give her credit: She held his gaze, she didn't look away. “Is that true?” he repeated.

“No.” She swallowed, the movement of her throat bringing her skin treacherously close to the knife. He barely had time for relief at her words before she continued, “I'm supposed to give him the whole damn village.”

A chill passed over Julian that had nothing to do with his standing buck naked in the middle of the Arctic. “And in return?” he asked.

“I lose my tail.”

Julian blew out a derisive breath. “Edward's not going to cure you. He's going to keep you. You're the perfect spy. Hell,
I
trusted you.”

Her mouth trembled. “I know.”

He wasn't sure if she was commenting on Edward's duplicity or Julian's trust, then decided it didn't matter.

“So,” Cade said, “okay if I kill her now?”

“No.”

Cade's eyebrows lifted. “You want to?”

Julian rubbed his forehead. “No.”

“Well, I'm not going to fight you until she's dead.”

“I'm not going to fight you at all.”

“That'll make it easier.”

“You can't let him win,” Alex said urgently. “He'll treat the Inuit like animals, chase them through the wilderness and hunt them down like…”

“Prey,” Cade murmured. “Great idea. I just figured I'd have my very own human farm. I could pick and choose what I'd like for dinner. But the werewolf version of ‘The Most Dangerous Game' would be a lot more fun.”

“You think my wolves will stand for that?” Julian asked. “No one likes to kill but you.”

“They'll do what I say.” He spread the fingers of the hand that wasn't holding the knife. “Once you're dead.”

“Will they?” Julian murmured, and his wolves emerged like an army from the trees.

Julian had felt them coming. He'd known they were there. He always did. They were a part of each other, between them a connection that only death would break.

The werewolves stood in a semicircle, human eyes peering at Cade from two hundred lupine faces.

Cade began to sweat. Killing Alex? No problem. Fighting Julian? Once Alex was dead and he was writhing, not much of a challenge, either. But facing two hundred werewolves?

“Not so easy now,” Alex murmured.

Cade began to babble. “She's a spy. She'll tell the
Jäger-Suchers
where we are. And he—” Cade pointed at Julian with the knife. “He won't let you be what you were born to be. Werewolves kill. It's what we do best. You've never lived until you've scented their fear, then tasted their blood.”

“Dumb-ass,” Alex said.

Julian knew exactly what she was thinking—and when had that started? Cade had just admitted his crimes to the jury of his peers.

Every gaze swung to Julian, and when they did, Cade
made a break for it. He dropped the knife; he started to run. Before he'd gone ten yards, he was a wolf.

Julian didn't want to kill him, but rules were rules, and Cade had broken them. It didn't matter that he was Julian's brother. He was still a psychotic, murdering werewolf, which meant that he must die. Julian closed his eyes, and he reached for the change.

“Julian,” Alex whispered, her voice full of wonder and fear.

He opened his eyes just as a ghastly, grisly howl cut through the night.

The two of them stood all alone beneath the moon.

 

The howl went on and on and on, then it stopped.

Alex wasn't certain which was worse—the howl itself or the silence that followed.

Julian stared into the distance, face as still as the night. His eyes glittered; he appeared carved from stone.

“They took care of it,” she said. “So you wouldn't have to.”

Julian's wolves understood what killing his brother would do to him. But they couldn't allow Cade to live. Not here. Not anywhere. Cade would never stop killing. He liked it too much.

Julian didn't answer. He didn't even move.

“A little help,” she called.

She was half afraid he'd continue to stand there, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. She'd take her punishment; she wouldn't run. But she'd prefer to take it when she wasn't trussed to a monster truck half naked.

Julian leaned over and picked up the knife Cade had dropped when he changed. Then he crossed the short distance
between them. Alex started to feel cold and not from the ice. Perhaps her judge was here and her punishment—

Julian lifted the knife, but all he did was cut the rope that bound her to the tailgate.

Alex crumpled to the snow. He could have reached out and kept her from falling. Instead he just turned away.

She climbed to her feet, adjusted the robe, thought about what she could say. “I got nothin',” she admitted.

She
was
a spy. She'd planned to send all of them to their deaths. That she didn't plan to anymore didn't change that she'd plotted mass murder in the first place.

But Julian had been right. His wolves were more like people than most people. Barlowsville was home.

And so was he.

She couldn't leave. They were bonded. Mated. Stuck.

Strangely that knowledge didn't make her feel trapped. It made her feel…loved.

When had she fallen in love with him? She really couldn't say. Was what she felt merely a by-product of their bond? Did it matter when the bond was real and true and forever? They were part of each other in a way she could never be part of anyone else.

She sensed the werewolves returning, the sensation of them getting closer and closer a tangible pulse deep within. They emerged from the gloom and took up the same positions as before—a semicircle facing Alex and Julian. Her time had come.

She didn't bother to defend herself. She had no defense. She could say she was sorry now, but really…why on earth would they believe her?

Julian took a breath, then let it out on a long, exhausted sigh. He turned and strode toward her, the set of his shoulders determined, even as his face remained oh, so still.

“This is going to hurt me more than it's going to hurt you,” he murmured.

He was right. Her pain would only last until the flames died. Considering their mate bond, his could go on and on.

“It's all right,” she said. “I understand.”

She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but that would only make things worse.

He was two feet away from her when the sleek black wolf leaped between them.

“Ella,” Alex said. “Let him go.”

Ella snarled, and the hair on the back of her neck lifted.

“Really,” Alex continued. “He's gotta do what he's gotta do.”

A silver wolf with Rose's eyes joined the black one; another with hair like Joe's was right behind. Wolves drifted in from both sides, making a line of multicolored beasts between Alex and Julian.

He lifted his gaze. “I guess they've made their choice.”

“No—” Alex began.

“They're right. My arrogance got people killed. My obsession with vengeance put us all at risk. I'm not fit to lead.”

“Who is?”

Alex had meant the question to be rhetorical—really, who
was
fit to lead?—but Julian's smile had her heart clenching. “Oh, no. Uh-uh. You stay right—”

Julian threw back his head and howled. The agony in the sound—the fury and the pain—made her reach out. Her hand was only an inch away from touching him when he shimmered, shifted, and disappeared.

 

Alex had been right about the coup, just wrong about the new alpha.

That appeared to be her.

Julian left, and he didn't come back. Sure, she sent wolves out to look for him; she went to look for him, but if Julian didn't want to be found, he wasn't going to be. He had magic on his side.

Sometimes late at night she heard him howling, the sound a long wail of agony for the brother he'd lost.

But he didn't go far. Certainly she felt ill on and off, but it wasn't too bad, and it always passed.

She imagined him loping beneath the winter sun, breath streaming out of his snout in a white mist. He would run just a little too far, and he'd feel the pull in his gut, the bond with his mate, and he'd turn back. Then his stomach would ease, and so would hers.

In a few months the bouts of nausea subsided. Since this coincided with reports of “the master” being seen at the edge of the woods watching Barlowsville one day, Awanitok the next, she understood why.

She was lucky; the village practically ran itself. Alex didn't have any trouble at all. Once the wolves had chosen her, she was theirs just as she'd been his, and they listened to whatever she had to say.

Still, Alex's guilt ate at her. Her appetite faded, yet she seemed to be gaining weight. Finally she went to the café, found Rose, and asked, “Why didn't you kill me?”

“Kill you?” Rose patted her cheek. “Julian broke his own rules by forcing you.”

Since they were in the center of the café during the lunch rush, Rose's words were greeted with a dozen nods and just as many murmurs of agreement.

“We should have killed him.” Rose's sweet face folded into a vicious scowl. “I still might.”

“I killed Alana. I didn't understand. Until he
made
me understand.”

“
Made
being the operative word.” This from Daniel, who occupied a nearby table with Josh. “We don't do that around here.”

“I was going to turn all of you over to Edward,” Alex announced to the room at large.

“No, you weren't,” Rose said, and returned to work.

Alex still lived with Ella. She'd been told she could move into Julian's house, but the instant she'd set foot in the door, she'd started to cry. Without him, the place was too big, too cold, and too quiet

Ella didn't mind. She said she liked the company. Alex thought what the Frenchwoman liked was keeping an eye on her. Every time Alex turned around lately, there stood Ella.

“You're starting to give me the creeps,” Alex said after it happened for the fourth time in as many days.

Ella had been frowning at Alex's stomach, which was pushing uncomfortably at the seams of Ella's best slacks. “We have to talk.”

 

Julian stayed in the wild for six months. His guilt haunted him. Alex haunted him.

He didn't like the man he'd been, so he remained a wolf. He had plenty of residual anger at both Cade and himself to stay in his preferred form. But all that fury was exhausting.

He started sleeping each day, running each night. Eventually he started running to her.

They were mates for life, and thanks to him that life would be long. The least he could do was let her live without him. But he missed his home. It was the only one he'd ever had.

So he hung around the outskirts of civilization, and he caught a distant glimpse of Alex now and again, a flicker of her scent—ice, trees, and the faint drift of citrus—sometimes the sound of her voice, and that was enough.

Until it wasn't.

There came a night when he couldn't stand the separation any longer. He told himself he'd only watch her as she lay sleeping; then he'd leave. She'd never even know he was there.

Fool.

She'd been a
Jäger-Sucher
. There wasn't a werewolf in the world she wouldn't know was there.

She didn't run with the others most nights. She stayed alone at Ella's, and the lights went out very early. Not long after they did, he went in.

She wasn't in her bed; she wasn't in her room. He found her standing at the front window, staring at the moon.

“I wondered how long you'd stay away.”

He tried to work up enough anger to turn invisible. He should have done it before, but he discovered that being near her made him so damn happy, he had no anger left.

“I'll go soon,” she said.

“What? Where?”

She continued to stare at the sheen of the half-moon that coated the village in liquid silver ice.

“This is your place not mine.” She lifted a hand, but she didn't turn around. “Don't worry. If you can hold on for a few days, I'm sure Edward—make that Elise—will concoct something to make this…connection go away.”

“You won't go near him,” Julian said, and the house shook just a little. “Not ever again.”

“I won't tell him where you are. I know you didn't believe me, but now—” She took a breath, and it shook. “I'd never let him hurt—” Her voice broke.

Was she crying? No. Alexandra Trevalyn would never cry.

So why could he smell her tears?

“I'll stay here until it comes. I'll let you keep it. You know that I'd never bring the
Jäger-Suchers
down on—”

What was she
talking
about?

She turned, and it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, his lungs, the universe.

“Our child,” she finished, placing her palm on the full swell of her belly.

Julian did the only thing a man could do at a revelation like that.

He fainted.

 

Julian went down so fast and so hard, Alex would have thought he'd been shot if the night hadn't remained completely silent.

She went onto her knees. He was already coming around.

“Impossible,” he said as he opened his eyes.

She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. The child, no doubt irritated at being awoken by the thunderous thumping of Alex's heart, took the opportunity to give her its usual vicious kick.

Julian gasped and lifted his gaze to hers. He didn't appear capable of further speech.

“That's kind of how I felt when I heard.”

Ella had figured it out. Alex refused to believe her until her stomach began to expand, and the baby began to do the mambo.

“Impossible might be a good name,” Alex murmured, keeping her hand on top of Julian's on top of her stomach. “It's your child, after all.”

“But I can't—We can't—”

“You obviously can, and we
did
.”

“How?”

His face was gaunt. He broke her heart. She wanted to kiss him, to touch him and pull him close. But that would only make what she had to do so much harder.

“You healed a silver bullet, Julian. Is there anything you can't do if you put your
mind
to it?”

His forehead creased. “A boy with my gold hair. A girl with your green eyes.”

She stared at him for several seconds. “Did you hit your head?”

“I thought that once, when we were…” He sat up, but he didn't remove his hand from her stomach.

“Oh!” Suddenly everything became clear. Julian was magic, and when he thought of things, they happened. “We were having sex and you thought of kids?”

“I didn't mean to. I was thinking about—” He looked away.

“Alana.” That he'd been thinking of his wife while he was doing Alex was kind of…yuck. Then again, had she really believed he'd been thinking of her?

“You were angry?” she asked.

“Back then, every time I looked at you I was angry.” Julian twitched his shoulders, more of a wince than a shrug. “
Green
eyes. That was you. So I guess I wasn't really thinking of her at all.”

But he always would be. Alex knew that now.

Julian sighed. “She died because I couldn't give her a child, but it seems that I could. I never considered—”

Alex squeezed his fingers, and he looked into her face. “I don't think you could have given her one. This mate bond seems to be the cause of a whole lot of—” She floundered for a word.

“Weirdness,” Julian supplied.

“Yeah. Besides, would you ever have been able to work up enough fury at her to change the course of lycanthropy?”