Page 73 of Moonlighting with the Werewolf

Nope. Got ’em all. Mark it with an X.

I stepped through the mess of bodies and renewed my fury-filled hold on Frank. “Ready to try again?”

He glanced around, clearly seeking help, so I shook him hard enough he focused on me and my wrath. Over the next few minutes, out the full story came. After discovering several witches were hiding out in a town on the outskirts of Bangor, Maine, they’d proceeded to pick them off one by one.

One when she closed up shop for the night; another as they walked home from work; and a few more as they were sleeping in their fucking beds. Finally, Frank and his dogs managed to torture the location of their coven out of one of their captives.

The one semi-admirable thing about witches was that they rarely cracked, so I couldn’t imagine how far they’d taken it—didn’t want to. And that was coming from a guy who loathed the creatures.

“So I sent my top soldiers to ambush the coven. They sensed them coming, and we lost a dozen men during the bloody skirmish that followed,” Frank finished. “But since we’d slaughtered thirty-two of their kind, we considered it a win. Don’t tell me you’re upset there are less witches on the planet.”

I spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m upset that the coven came aftermypack because ofyourrecklessness.”

No wonder the witches had attacked the Crescent Pack. If they’d lost thirty-two during that conflict and fifteen had been picked off before that, and yet they’d still had enough to leave... I scanned the room, quickly calculating the injured. Fifty had died in the ambush, and another thirty were injured.

My people’s faces superimposed themselves over the shifters that were moaning and holding injuries, several circling the drain and unlikely to make it.

A heavy rock settled in my gut.

Then another thought struck me. “Was it you or one of your men who shot me in the back, you fucking coward?”

Frank paled, and that, combined with the vibes I’d gotten from Sam, was confession enough for me. No wonder he’d acted strange. He’d either thought I’d died or that no one could kill me. Considering it was so different from the witches’ traps and arrows, I should’ve realized earlier that the two were unrelated.

Nothing would give me more pleasure than disposing of Frank right here in front of all his people, so they could see him for who he truly was.

But then I sensed a vibration against my thigh and heard the ringtone I now despised.

I tossed Frank to the ground and called for Mikal to take him to the basement and shackle him so I could deal with him later. Then I charged out the nearest door and answered the phone.“You have ten minutes to get to Solitude Stone. A witch will be awaiting your arrival. If she senses anyone else with you, she’ll leave, and you’ll never see your mate again. Once you’re fitted with a silver collar to prevent shifting, my sister will portal you to our location.”

My pride baulked at the mention of the collar. They wanted to treat me like a junkyard dog, just yank the chain to get him to behave?

“Before any negotiations take place, I need to see for myself that Kerrigan’s...”Alive.The word lodged in my throat, the gravity of the situation not allowing me to say it. “Safe and sound.”

“Cooperate, and I’ll grant you that one kindness. A word of warning, however. This is your one and only shot, so I suggest you don’t blow it. Dr. Ryan’s lifeliterallydepends on it.”

Every cell in my body reacted, cranking the frenetic energy tasering my insides to high. Someone else would have to deal with Frank and help Sabine attend to his injured pack members. I rushed toward the Jeep, flung open the door, and noted the time on the dash as I fired up the engine.

“Tick-tock, wolf. Your timer just hit nine minutes...”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Those same fuchsiafingernails that’d raked pain across my neck dug into the tender skin under my chin, not piercing, just applying a menacing amount of pressure. “Don’t worry, Cinderella. Your Prince Charming is coming for you.”

Under other circumstances, I might cheerily say,Hey, we’re totes on the same wavelength! I compared myself to Cinderella just the other day.

But I didn’t want to have anything in common with the woman the other witches referred to as Andromeda. Judging from what I’d seen so far, she was head of the coven holding me hostage. Howdarethey use me to get to Conall and the pack members I’d begun to consider family?

Intent on showing her she couldn’t break me, I amped up the defiance. “What? No ball gown and glass slippers? Talk about a shitty fairy godmother.” In spite of my efforts to remain tough, my eyes burned with the urge to cry. I wanted my purple-haired fairy godmother who cared whether I lived or died.

The long, metal nail I’d pried from the unfinished basement wall dug into my palm. Did I use it now? Save it for later?

A storm brewed within me, bred of malice and devotion. The witches would pay for the hurt they’d caused Conall, both past and present. With the same steady hand I used to save animals, I’d drive the nail into Andromeda’s jugular with precision. As she bled out, I’d antagonize her like she’d done to me in the living room of my own house. Nothing would bring me more joy, and suddenly I understood Conall’s barbaric side more than I ever wanted to.

“Careful.” Andromeda clamped my chin tighter as she hauled me to my feet. “Or I’ll strip you naked and create an outfit entirely of your own blood.”

It’d probably be an improvement. Not that I had access to a mirror, but Ifelthow rough I looked. Matted hair, furrowed scabs scoring my throat, and blood crusted down the front of my soiled shirt. Once Conall saw me, he’d go ballistic, something they were obviously counting on.

If only I knew their plans for him.

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