Page 59 of The Wild Moon
“Anyone else?” I asked.
Two more men came at me. “Ugh, fine,” I said, dancing to the side easily, then simply shoving. I used a bit of extra strength, and both men went tumbling down.
They all came at me at once, and I ducked under a deluge of blows. I kicked and elbowed and punched, but six on one is tough, even for a shifter. I drove two of them back, but to do so, I opened myself up, and a knee caught me in the chin.
I saw stars. What I think was a fist–I couldn’t see straight yet–caught me in the temple, and I staggered back.
“Godown, bitch,” the leader snarled, back in the fight now. “You three, go help the boss.”
I heard footsteps clatter as they tried to pass me. I reached out blindly and grabbed hold of one as he went by. I spun and heaved him, using my ears to guide me. I was rewarded by the sound of two bodies colliding and going down in a heap.
Shaking my head, I cleared my vision just in time to see Jaxton drop down out of nowhere and intercept the two thugs heading for Aaron’s back.
“Not today,” he growled.
With backup on my side, Jaxton and I drove in at the thugs, and in short order, we had three of them on the ground, groaning in pain. One of them had a broken arm. I was pretty sure Jaxton had caused serious issue to another one’s knee, but I really didn’t care enough to inspect.
“Enough,” Byron said, spitting blood from where Aaron had him pinned up against a crate of equipment. “Fine. Take your shit, and go.” He pointed at a trio of skids. “Don’t ever come back.”
Aaron stood back, straightening his suit, and nodded. “Thanks, Byron. Pleasure doing business with you.”
Then, he turned and headed for the skids, passing Jaxton and me. “Truck here?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Jaxton said. “It’s outside Gate One.”
I stared at the two of them, conversing as if nothing had ever happened.
Whowerethese people? Why had my father ever worked with them? They were insane. Which probably meant I was insane.
In the back of my head, the Soulbond drummed again. It was growing louder with each passing night. I could hear it at all times during the day now. Even Aaron’s presence was slowly losing the battle, the beating of its desire for Johnathan slowly breaking through.
These men might be completely nuts, but they were on my side, and right now, they were the only hope I had to find whatever was out there that was calling to me before it was too late. Before I was changed by the Soulbond forever.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The next morning, I was tired and more than a little cranky. The night had been a long one, spent tossing and turning and waking up in a cold sweat more times than I could remember. The moon’s pull was growing stronger, and so was my wolf.
Not even coffee could fix my mood. It was that bad. I stalked across the parking lot of our meeting place, which Aaron had told me to be at after our expedition to the warehouse. It was a long, squat, concrete affair, one of those commercial buildings that had gone up quickly in the late seventies, with a bunch of units next to one another.
Every five or so units, there was a break in the buildings to allow vehicles to access the rear. One tree was planted at the front of each unit, none of which looked to be in good shape. Unit Four was where I wanted to go. It had a pair of roll-up doors installed in the front, and faded lettering above them proclaimed that once upon a time, “Al’s Auto Care” had called the place home.
Judging by the weeds growing everywhere, I doubted Al had been there anytime recently. It was the perfect spot for a secret clubhouse. Exactly what a man would choose.
I ducked under the roll-up door that was halfway down, noting that it felt as dour inside as it looked outside, the gray skies and generally blah weather of the day matching the well-worn interior. Two lifts still stood in place, but otherwise, the inside was devoid of anything related to its former life.
Instead, a handful of people stood around a wheeled chalkboard, drinking coffee and doing nothing. They all looked up as I entered.
“Am I late?” I asked, frowning. The dash in my dad’s truck had said I was twenty minutes early.
“No,” Aaron said, appearing from the little office off to the left.
He wasn’t dressed in his traditional suit at all. It was still all black, one of his two preferred color schemes, but instead of the formal wear, he’d traded it in for something more practical. Black tactical boots, thick pants that wouldn’t rip or tear as we trucked through the wilderness, and a heavy black shirt. Strapped around his waist was a utility belt that I felt was filled with practical items, not what necessarily came with it. He wore it with experience, clearly used to the weight.
“You’ve changed,” I said dryly.
“You sound surprised.”
I shrugged. “I figured you would be the type to wear camo-everything. I find it hard to believe they were so out of stock you had to resort to this.”
