Moonlight's Peril (Moonlight Series Book 1) (3 page)

Four

Bianca pushed herself up on her knees and leaned so close to the edge a few rocks tumbled down the limestone bluff face as she struggled to get a good look. The woman turned. She wasn’t Chessa. Disappointment surged.

Bianca put down the binoculars, taking a moment to regain calm. She’d been sure—so sure.

“I thought you were going to fall,” said a male voice. Bianca screeched and twisted around. Law Foster stood casually on the path as if he was out for a stroll, but she doubted the coincidence. She glared. He glared back.

He was tall and confident.
If he weren't a cult leader, he’d be ridiculously hot.
She could see the outline of muscles under his shirt. The man’s sculpted body held her attention.
What the hell is wrong with me?
His dark blond hair dangled over his eyes in such a casually sexy way she sort of hated him for it.
Why can’t he look like a creeper? Get it together, girl. Looks can be deceiving.

His brow furrowed as he looked at her with his cold gray eyes. “Get off my land, Ms. Archer.”

“Give me my daughter back, Mr. Foster.”

“I wish I had her. I’d love to give her back and be rid of you, but we both know I’m not the one who took her.” He regarded her with unwavering and intense demand. His tone softened. “I know you’re hurting. I wish I could help you, but she’s never coming home.”

Bianca’s lips parted, and her brows drew together. “You sound sure of that. I know someone in your commune knows where she is. You’re protecting Lucas’s killer and a kidnapper. Please, just give her back and I’ll make sure they never trace her recovery back to you or any of your people. I swear we’ll keep quiet.” Bianca’s hands balled into fists. Hate rose up and suffocated her. He was the gatekeeper of her pain, and she just needed to find a way past his wall of lies and secrets. “God damn you! Tell me,” she wailed.

The left corner of his mouth turned down, and he shook his head slightly. Regret passed over his features, and his subtle sympathy devastated her. She’d directed too much energy in his direction to be wrong about Chessa’s whereabouts.

The wind rustled the leaves overhead. The magnitude of her isolation hit her. No one would hear her scream if he attacked.
This is how I die. Oh Lord, watch over me, over her. I—please.
Her mind screamed the prayer with a desperation she’d never experienced before. There was nothing behind her but a long drop.

“You’re a good mother,” Law said. “And a brave woman. I wish I could help you, but she’s not here. If you keep looking, you might find things you aren’t able to handle. You’re young. You can have more children. How old are you, thirty?”

She gasped with horror over his insensitivity. “I’m thirty-five, not that it’s any of your business. I could have a hundred children, and none of them could take Chessa’s place, so fuck you.”

Foster shrugged, which made her angrier. “Go on with your life before you lose it.”

“Is that a threat?” she demanded, standing up.

“If I wanted you dead, you’d have been dead a long time ago. I don’t want to see you hurt. There’s nothing for you at the end of this search but pain. Missing children’s stories seldom have a happy ending.”

“You sound confident of that.” Bianca spat each syllable as an accusation. “If she’s dead, just tell me where I can find her body. Please, if you know anything tell me. I can’t live the rest of my life with this uncertainty. I won’t—I swear I won’t lead the police to you or your people.”

“There are others that live in these woods. There are things about this town you can’t imagine.” He moved closer and she backed up. Rocks skittered over the edge. The compassion in his oddly beautiful eyes made her ache.
Are those eyes the last thing I’ll see when he pushes me over the edge?

She threw away caution as the reality of Chessa’s dwindling time flooded her mind. She took a step closer to him but braced herself for any attack. “I’ve lived in this area my whole life. I know everything there is to know about this town. You can’t scare me. More threats won’t stop me. Why don’t you just tell me what you know?”  Bianca grabbed her pack and returned to the state’s side of the fence. Anger gave her foolish courage, and she came to stand toe to toe with Law. She was average height, but he towered over her. “Where is my daughter?”

“Go home. Give up. Live your life.”

“There’s no life for me without my child. She’s all I have.”

Something rustled the brush to Bianca’s left. The intensity of the argument had her on edge, but she turned to the noise. She squinted, as if that would help her see better in the dim wood, and tried to peer into the greenery. The sound originated from an area so overgrown no sun reached the ground.

Two glowing yellow eyes gazed out at Bianca from the darkness. She couldn’t stop her gasp as she took a step away from Foster. A soft growl rumbled out of the shadows, and the bushes shook. Law grabbed her hand, tugging. She scowled, unable to comprehend his action in her jumble of wild emotions.

“Damn it. Run!” Foster demanded as he yanked so hard she almost lost her footing. She dropped her heavy pack, but he didn’t give her time to grab it as he ran. She helplessly jogged behind him.
Maybe this is another nightmare. I’ve had too much coffee and too little sleep
. But his firm grip was solid. The warmth of Law's hand felt insanely safe. Terror kept her moving.

Bianca turned to look behind them. “Oomph.” The sound exploded from her as she crashed into Law’s back. It took her a moment to feel the tension in his body. Cautious, she peeked around him and saw a creature blocking their path. It was too big to be a wolf and very shaggy. The smell burned her nose.
Does it roll around in garbage?

Law had pulled her down a forking trail, and she realized she had no idea where the path back to her car was.

“What is that?” Bianca whispered.

Law didn’t respond but yanked her into the trees and off the trail. They kept running, and she struggled to keep up with him. Branches and thorn bushes tore at her clothing and skin. The deeper they went, the darker the woodland grew. A thick canopy of trees blotted out the sun. Bianca’s heart pounded in her chest, and every breath hurt as she struggled not to fall behind too much. Law didn’t even appear winded. There was something unnatural about his stamina.

Law stopped short. Bianca skidded to a halt beside him. Another one of the creatures, lighter in color, blocked their path. The monster didn’t smell bad, like the first one, but the beast could have used a good bath. Its fur lay matted. Its size wasn’t what scared her; the malevolence and horrible intelligence in its gaze terrified her. She bit her lip to keep from screaming. Maybe this was Bigfoot and Bigfoot was real.
Werewolf.
She pushed the idea out of her mind as quick as it formed. The monstrosity stood, and took a shocking step towards them. It seemed perfectly comfortable on its hind legs.

“Stay behind me,” Law ordered over his shoulder in Bianca’s direction. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” For some incomprehensible reason, she trusted him.

“This doesn’t concern you,” Law said.

“Huh?” Bianca asked.
This sure as hell does concern me; that thing looks ready to eat us.

“We’re in neutral territory, let us pass,” Law said. She realized he was talking to the brute in front of them. Fear raised the hair on the back of her neck. The creature growled at her, and she cringed. Law pushed her farther behind him, blocking her from the monster’s view. “I offer her my protection.”

The thing made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a howl.

She cringed.

“The old ways are over,” said Bigfoot, or whatever-the-hell it was. His voice was rough, and the words were

This can’t be real. It didn’t just talk. It couldn’t.
Horror filled Bianca. A cold spike of dread radiated from her chest to tingle through her extremities. Her hands shook, and she had to hold onto Law to keep from toppling over. Speaking made the monster scarier.

Bianca gathered enough courage to look past Law. The creature focused on her. Bianca could have sworn it smiled as its lips curled along its muzzle to display a dangerous row of yellowed teeth.
So much worse.

“She doesn’t know anything. Tell him; I give her my protection.”

The creature growled, snorted and got back down on all fours. Bianca’s breath rushed out as the monster crouched, ready to spring. Then, seemingly for no reason, Bigfoot let out a gruff snort and disappeared with spooky unnatural grace, melding with the forest shadows.

“What was that?” she whispered. “Really?”

“You don’t want to know,” Law said in a soft albeit somber tone.

“Don’t be such an asshole. I do want to know. Did one of those
things
kill Lucas and take my Chessa? Is she even alive? I thought I’d know she was dead, but after seeing that
thing
—I’m not sure about anything anymore.”

Law ran a hand through his thick, shaggy blond hair and stared into the area where the creature had gone. His lips pressed into a hard line, and his brows drew together. Then Law turned and scrutinized her. He seemed to be looking for his answer in her expression. “Yes, one or both of them are involved with the group that I suspected killed Lucas and kidnapped your daughter. Not everything that looks like a monster is a monster. Can you trust that, Bianca?”

Is he kidding?
“We have to kill it if it’s what murdered Lucas.” She looked up at his face.

Law’s darkening frown deepened the lines on his rugged features. He scratched at his scruffy dark brown beard. He’d been clean shaven every other time she’d seen him. A man didn’t grow a full beard overnight. Warning tingled in the back of her brain.

Law didn’t look at her, but a sigh full of unspoken exasperation leeched out of him. “Go home, Bianca.”

“Go to hell, Foster.”

A ghost of a grin curved his lips up. “You’re a poet, woman.” She glared at him. Something unreadable passed over his face. “If Chessa is alive, and you want any chance of saving her, go home and wait. There are things going on here you couldn’t understand. I’m not an asshole; I’m just keeping you from dying. Are you going to leave my people alone now? We don’t have her.”

“It hurts so much, but I believe you. I’ve wasted my time looking for suspects behind your gate.” Bianca swallowed around the lump in her throat.
It was so much easier being sure she was with them alive and close. I don’t want to be wrong.
“Foster.” His brow furrowed as she said his name. “I’m sorry.”

***

Chessa’s whole body hurt. Her fingers were numb from the cold and the handcuffs. Her toes ached so she wiggled them in a pointless attempt to warm the tingling digits. Drowsiness kept her head bobbing. Yawning, she squirmed to ease the discomfort of sitting on the concrete floor. She’d spent too much time chained in the sitting position where they’d left her, and something was wrong with her. Constantly thirst tormented her, but water never helped for very long. Her temperature burned for a while and then she felt ice cold again.

Two unkempt men would come down and gawk at her when the lights came on each day. At least she assumed that meant it was daytime. There were no windows in her prison.
My captors are so creepy
.

Chessa was old enough to know what men did to kidnapped girls, but so far she’d been very lucky—if you could call the vile conditions of her cell luck. She shivered. Water leaked in. She tried not to imagine they’d buried her alive, but when she got scared and sad, the thought popped into her head.

The handle rattled on the door. Adrenaline stole Chessa’s drowsiness, and she pressed tight into the corner. She wasn’t sure what date it was anymore, or even what month. She just wanted to go home.
Will they kill me this time?

The handle rattled again, and the door opened with a squeak. A long dark braid of wavy hair was the first thing through the door. Then a drab gray sweatshirt sleeve appeared. Even the thickness of the material couldn’t hide the thinness of the appendage it covered. Joy came in carrying a large tray. Her big brown eyes appeared sad, as usual
. Someone named that woman wrong.

“Please help me get out of here,” Chessa began with her typical plea. Her voice was hoarse from screaming for help earlier when the men had come. She should just give up. Joy shrugged and looked away.

Chessa licked her dry, chapped lips. She would have loved a lip balm. “Can you at least help me get into a better position? I’m sore.” The air was so bad and stale in her jail that her skin was a mess. She itched all over because she hadn’t been allowed to bathe or change her clothes the whole time they’d kept her.

Joy nodded and set the tray down on the rust-stained concrete floor. She went over to the metal wall and pulled a key out of her pocket. Chessa collapsed as Joy released her from the short chain. She had trouble moving her arms as she stood up and stretched. The room was bare except for a blanket and pillow. She hated everything about the space.

Chessa rubbed her shoulder, where the bite was.

Joy pulled Chessa’s stained, ripped shirt to the side and looked at the wound. “It looks better.” Joy pulled something out of her pocket. “I brought you this.” She handed a paperback book to Chessa.
Wuthering Heights
. Chessa had never heard of the story. “Hide it under the blanket.”