Crave the Moon Page 20

  Isaac didn’t even glance his way. “They’re not stupid. If I shoot one, the rest will scatter. I prefer ’em right where I can see ’em.”

  Matt understood the sentiment, although who knew how many more of them were out there in the dark that they couldn’t see and didn’t even know about?

  Isaac’s explanation that the beasts understood he had silver and was prepared to use it only indicated a human-level intelligence that freaked Matt out more than their human eyes.

  “I’m gonna need to make a call.” Isaac stood, passing the rifle to his grandson.

  “Who?” Gina’s voice sounded hopeful. Matt felt kind of hopeful himself. Calling someone is more productive than waiting to die.

  Matt turned his gaze back to the wolves. Or become like them.

  Isaac shook his head and headed for the hall. He paused at the door and his dark gaze zeroed in on Matt. “You better come along,” he ordered. “He may want to talk to you.”

  “He who?” Gina called, but Isaac’s boots were already receding in the direction of her office.

  Matt didn’t like leaving Gina in a room with a sheer windowpane that seemed to be begging the wolves to crash through and add a few more to their army, even if Isaac didn’t think they would.

  “Go.” Gina waved her hand. “We’re good.”

  “Sure?”

  “She’s safer with me than with you, Moldy. Run along.”

  Gina narrowed her eyes. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

  McCord’s only answer was a snort.

  Gina glanced at Matt, shrugged, then tilted her head to indicate the back of the house. Matt went. As much as he disliked Jase McCord, Matt also believed the man would die before he allowed Gina to be hurt.

  Isaac already had the phone pressed to his ear. As Matt stepped into the office, the call was answered on the other end of the line.

  “Edward,” Isaac said. “He escaped.”

  * * *

  The room was so silent Gina heard Isaac speaking. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she hoped whatever he learned from whomever he’d called would help.

  “I’m going to check on Fanny and the others.” Gina couldn’t sit there and watch those things watching them for another minute longer.

  Jase merely lifted a hand as she left; he kept his gaze on the window and his hand on the gun.

  Upstairs, she checked every room. Derek had nodded off, the TV flickering blue streaks across his slack face. He seemed even younger asleep. Like a scruffy Smurf in dirty sweats and bare feet.

  Softly Gina shut his door. She had to get him out of here alive.

  Fanny dozed in the rocking chair she’d dragged just outside of Amberleigh’s room. A quick glance within revealed Amberleigh still sucking her thumb; the moon shining through the window and across her bed revealed a face tracked with tears. But she was asleep, along with all the others, and with luck they’d stay that way until morning. Then …

  Who knew?

  Would the werewolves remain in the yard, barring anyone from leaving the house? Except … didn’t werewolves only troll around after dark? Gina hoped so. Being trapped in here with only one silver-filled rifle would be bad.

  She paused outside her room. Where had Isaac gotten silver bullets? She doubted the local gunsmith sold them.

  Maybe Isaac had made them. He was pretty good with his hands. Whenever anything broke in the tack room, Isaac was the one who fixed it. In which case …

  Gina went into her room, not bothering to turn on the light. The moon had begun to fall and was now framed in the large windows set in the opposite wall. Everything looked cast in pewter.

  Gina owned a lot of silver jewelry. This was the Southwest after all. Sure, a lot of it was her mother’s, but—

  Gina lifted the lid of her jewelry box. She’d save those pieces for last.

  Inside lay a jumble of stuff she didn’t wear. Things that flitted around, caught the light, made a noise—like earrings, bracelets, even necklaces—could spook a horse.

  Gina considered the pile. If Isaac melted it down he might get a few bullets out of it but … probably not enough to matter.

  She shut the lid with a snap and turned toward the door.

  Someone stood in the shadows, just past the reach of the moonlight, watching her.

  * * *

  “I dunno how he got out,” Isaac said.

  Whoever was on the other end spoke. Matt considered asking Isaac to put him on speakerphone, then saw the apparatus was so ancient it was one step above a rotary dial.

  “I’m gonna let you talk to the guy who was there when it happened,” Isaac continued. “He’s some kind of Aztec expert.” Isaac held out the receiver to Matt. “I wanna keep an eye on those wolves.”

  “Who’d you call?” Matt asked.

  “Name’s Edward Mandenauer. We met in the war.”

  Matt frowned. “War?”

  “WW Two. Did a lot of scouting in Germany.” His mouth twisted. “They always sent the Injuns scouting.” Isaac lifted the phone higher. “Ran into this guy in the Black Forest. He was some sort of double agent.”

  “A spy?” Matt frowned. What good would that do them?

  Isaac pressed the phone into Matt’s hand. “Edward’s spent a lifetime studying ancient, supernatural legends. Tell him what you saw, what you know. I gotta go back.”

  Matt put the phone to his ear, but before he could even introduce himself Edward Mandenauer, his accent still quite German despite the intervening years, snapped, “Tell me everything.”

  So Matt did—or almost everything. He left out the parts that were too crazy for words. The instant he said “Nahual,” the old man interrupted. “Ah! This is a word that I know.”

  “An Aztec guardian angel in animal form. Kind of like the Native American spirit animal.”

  “Not quite. The stories of the Nahual that I have heard deal with a being referred to as ‘lo que es mi vestidura o piel.’”

  “‘Something that is my cloth or my skin,’” Matt translated. “I’ve only seen that translation for the Nahualli, protectors of Tezcatlipoca, the Aztec god of war and sacrifice.”

  Sacrifice. War. Changing of the skin like a cloth. All of these tales circled around to the same damn thing. Whether they called it Tangwaci Cin-au’-ao or a superwarrior or a Nahual, all the legends described what they had here.

  “The two beings are as close as the words used to describe them,” Mandenauer said. “The Nahualli a protector of the god, the Nahual a being very like a god.”

  “Like a god?” Matt echoed.

  “What else would ancient peoples think when they saw a werewolf but that they had encountered a god?”

  “Wait a second. Who said anything about werewolf?”

  Matt had been thinking it, but he hadn’t said it.

  “Did I get ahead of myself? I apologize, but I hate to waste time. The only reason for Isaac to call me is for help. The kind of help only I can give.”

  “What kind of help is that?” Matt asked. “Isaac wasn’t clear on what, exactly, you do.”

  “I kill monsters.”

  Silence settled over the line.

  “Am I wrong in assuming you have werewolves?” Mandenauer at last broke the silence. “The glyphs you described—the man-wolf face, the larger-than-life being, the word Nahual—give that impression.”

  “I … uh … well…”

  “Have dead people disappeared? Their bodies seeming to run off under their own power?”

  “How did you know?” That had been one of the crazy parts Matt had left out.

  “Once bitten, a human being will change within twenty-four hours. Moon, sun, rain, or shine, dead, or alive, the afflicted will become. Ever after they run beneath the moon only, but the first time is different—the first time they must kill. Later they need only imbibe fresh blood, although most kill anyway. Once the demon werewolf takes hold, they like it.”

  “What else do you know about the Nahual?” Matt
asked.

  “A sorcerer that grows stronger with every kill. Sacrifice increases his power. Blood and flesh are his sustenance.”

  “A cannibal.”

  “Of sorts,” Mandenauer agreed.

  “But how does smoke kill?”

  “The Ute confined the creature with magic. The specifics of the spell might explain the Nahual’s appearance, or lack of one. However, no record of the spell was kept, and the sorcerer who performed it was executed soon after.”

  “He saves their ass and they kill him for it?”

  “The Ute understood that what they were dealing with was something that should never, ever get back out. The consequences could be catastrophic.”

  “In what way?”

  “As far as my people have been able to determine, the Nahual is invincible.”

  Mandenauer had “people”? That was almost as disturbing as what his people had found out or, rather, not found out.

  “No one’s invincible,” Matt said. “Every megalomaniac throughout history learned that.”

  “There’s a first time for everything,” Mandenauer muttered. “But I’d prefer it not happen on my watch.”

  “What’s the Nahual going to do?” Matt asked.

  “Create more of his kind, build an army, rule the world.”

  “Why?” Ruling the world had always seemed like a really shitty job to Matt.

  “It’s what megalomaniacs do.”

  “What about the others?” Matt asked. “There are werewolves in the yard, and some of them have the eyes of our friends.”

  “It is a horrible thing to view the eyes of a friend in the face of a beast. This I have seen many, many times. Right before I shoot them in the head.”

  Matt winced. Ashleigh might have been annoying, but he didn’t want her dead. And Mel—Mel was fun.

  “Isn’t there another way?”

  “To kill them?” Mandenauer sounded confused.

  “Than killing them. Can’t we cure them?”

  “Of course.”

  Matt rubbed his face. Was the old man trying to make him insane?

  “However, the cure is … singular. One-on-one. It takes time and must be applied physically, which can cause problems.”

  Like the one applying the cure getting his or her throat torn out? Matt could understand how that might be a problem.

  “Sometimes it is best just to shoot them.”

  “How about if we try and cure them, and if there’s a problem, then we shoot them?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Mandenauer agreed; the modern phrase sounded very odd when spoken with his old-world accent.

  “And the Nahual?” Matt continued. “Can he be cured?”

  “No. The Nahual was not bitten; he was born. He is, for all intents and purposes, a god. He is evil on both sides of the moon. That cannot be cured.”

  Desperation tore at Matt, as sharp as the claws of those beasts outside. But he swallowed, striving for a calm he didn’t feel. “Then what do we do?”

  “Reconfine him.”

  “I thought no one knew how.”

  “No one alive,” Mandenauer agreed.

  Matt blinked. “What?”

  “I will talk to my people. As the Nahual was imprisoned, seemingly for eternity, I have not pressed the issue. But now we must.”

  “How many people do you have?” Matt asked.

  “Less than I need. They tend to die on me.”

  “I can imagine,” Matt muttered. He had a feeling monster hunters died often and badly. If Mandenauer had lasted this long he must be the best of the best, which was exactly what they needed. “Can you come to Nahua Springs Ranch?”

  “My boy, I am already on my way.”

  Quickly they exchanged cell-phone numbers. Matt thought the old man had hung up, but Edward had one last piece of advice: “Be careful. A sorcerer can do most anything.”

  Matt stood with the phone still in his hand as the implications of the conversation washed over him.

  They not only had werewolves, but they also had a shape-shifting Aztec sorcerer intent on creating more of them. And the man Matt had just spoken to was a monster hunter. Which meant there were a lot more monsters than these in the world.

  The phone began to squawk, and Matt replaced it in the cradle. But he didn’t return to the living room. He needed to get his mind right.

  How was he going to explain this to the others?

  Pretty much the same way it was explained to him. Matter-of-factly. They’d already seen the evidence. It was standing out in the yard.

  A creak from upstairs had him lifting his face to the ceiling. Strange. Everyone was supposed to be asleep. Sure, they could have awoken, headed for the bathroom or to get a drink of water, but the footsteps that followed that creak weren’t the footsteps of a person moving purposely toward a place they had every business going to.

  No, those footsteps had sounded like someone slowly creeping up on another someone who had no idea that they were there.

  CHAPTER 20

  Gina caught her breath. “Who’s that?”

  She didn’t recognize the shape of whoever hovered in the hall, and she should. Why wouldn’t she immediately recognize the outline of every person in the house? There weren’t all that many.

  She wanted to step away from the hovering shadow, but trapped in her room, she had nowhere to go. Instead, she made herself move forward, and as she did, the shadow solidified into—

  “Jase.” She let out her breath in a relieved rush, then immediately drew it in again. “Is something wrong?”

  He stepped from the darkness and into the silvery light. “I don’t know; is there?”

  Gina frowned, annoyed. “I don’t have time for games.” She made to step past him, and he grabbed her elbow.

  She glanced at his hand, then into his face. He appeared as annoyed as she. But why?

  “What happened?” She tugged on her arm. He didn’t let go; instead he urged her farther into the room.

  A prickle of unease washed over Gina, which she quickly quashed. This was Jase. She’d known him all her life. He would never hurt her, though right now … She shifted her shoulder; his grip wasn’t exactly pleasant.

  “What did happen?” he murmured, his dark eyes appearing even darker in the hazy gleam of the falling moon. “We were happy here.”

  “Happy?” she repeated. “I guess.”

  They’d been on the verge of bankruptcy. Working like mules. But, sure, they’d had some good times.

  “Then he came and ruined it all.”

  “Teo?”

  Jase’s lip curled, and he let her go with a little shove. “‘Teo’?” he mocked. “You mean ‘Dr. Moldy.’”

  “I mean Teo. He saved us, Jase.”

  “Saved?” Jase laughed, but it wasn’t his laugh, the one that made her laugh, too. This laugh was bitter and kind of mean. Not Jase’s laugh at all. “How fast things changed once you let him fuck you.”

  “Bite me.” She started for the door again. Jase stepped in her way.

  “Did he bite you? Did you like it?”

  Gina’s hand curled into a fist. She very much wanted to sock Jase in the gut. Unfortunately, from previous experience she knew that his gut was rock hard and she’d only hurt her hand.

  “Move your ass,” she said quietly.

  “Or what?”

  “I’ll call your mother. She’s down the hall.”

  Fanny might appear mild mannered and sweet, but she could get downright nasty if Jase needed her to be. Right now, Gina thought he might need her to be.

  Jase stepped back, but he didn’t clear the path to the door. “We were going to get married,” he said, and his voice sounded broken.

  “Who?” Gina blurted before her mind caught up to her mouth. “Us? Jase.” She shook her head, took his hand. His was so cold she rubbed it between hers. “No. We weren’t.”

  “If he’d never come—”

  “It wouldn’t have mattered. I don’t love you
that way.”

  “You would have eventually. We’d have gotten married, and raised our kids here, and everything would have been perfect.”

  Everything wouldn’t have been perfect because the ranch would have been sold out from under them if not for Teo. But bringing that up again … probably not the best idea.

  Teo had told her that Jase wanted to be more than a brother to her, that he’d warned other men away, and she hadn’t believed him. Jase had always been her friend—her best friend, her only friend. But marrying him? Sleeping with him? Gina stifled a shudder.

  “Jase.” She squeezed his hand between hers until he looked into her face. “That was never going to happen.”

  His lips tightened; his eyes cooled. “It would have. You love me.”

  “Like a brother.”

  He yanked free. “I am not your brother!”

  Before she could figure out what to do, what to say next, he grabbed her by the shoulders and he kissed her.

  As kisses went, it was pretty bad. Too hard, too desperate. Way too much tongue.

  She remained passive, hoping he’d catch a clue. But when his hands began to wander below her neck she stomped on his foot.

  “Hey!” At least he stopped kissing, and pawing, her. “What was that for?”

  “Don’t ever do that again,” she said. “It was … ucky.”

  “Ucky? I thought it was hot.”

  Gina couldn’t help it; she lowered her gaze to his jeans, then immediately yanked it back up. He had thought it was hot.

  Now she was beyond grossed out.

  “Not hot. Not cool, Jase. Get it through your head—I will never love you that way. I will never marry you. I will definitely never, ever, sleep with you. And if you keep pushing it, you’re going to have to leave.”

  “We’re partners.”

  “In name only. You don’t own this place, and you don’t own me.”

  His face darkened; his mouth twisted. “Is that what happened? Mecate bought you along with our ranch? There’s a word for that, Gina.”

  Gina sighed. Jase was upset. He wasn’t himself. She wasn’t going to hold what he said now against him.