Red Rose Moon (Seasons of the Moon) (8 page)

Abel gripped Seth’s shoulders and stared in his face. “Cain is coming.”

A gunshot split the air, and someone in the gazebo screamed.

T
HIRTEEN

Until Death

Seth released Abel and whirled,
drawing a handgun from inside his tuxedo.

It was chaos in the gazebo. Guns fired, people shouted, and Rylie couldn’t see what was happening. From the number of weapons firing, there had to be a lot of enemies—but through the tumult of bodies, it was impossible to tell who was attacking who.

“Stay here,” Seth said, launching up the hill again.

Rylie choked on a sudden surge of bile, clapping her hand to her mouth.

“You okay?” Abel asked, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. His touch was warm and familiar. Her wolf was dizzyingly happy to see him alive, and Rylie found herself leaning into his shoulder.

“I thought you were gone,” she whispered once she was certain that she could speak without vomiting.

He cupped her face in his hand. “I would never leave you behind, Rylie. You’re my pack. My mate.”

Seth’s shout echoed over the hill. Rylie’s head jerked up, and her wolf senses focused on him instantly.

He was firing from the hip at a moving target. A blur darting over the hill.

Cain.

Nerves swamped Rylie, and she gripped her stomach with a groan. “Abel…”

“I know,” he said.

She stared at him. “You know?”

He covered her hand with his, and warmth spread through the gentle curve of her belly. For a moment, Rylie heard nothing—no shouts, no gunfire, no chaos. The world was reduced to the place just below her navel, and the feeling of Abel’s skin.

“How can you already know?” she asked. “I haven’t even told Seth yet.”

Amusement flicked through Abel’s eyes. “Cain told me. You can’t fight like this—we have to get you out of here.”

She nodded mutely, and he pulled her down the hill, tripping on her long skirts as they ran. Rylie grabbed fistfuls of the material and hiked it to her knees, but running was still too hard.

They left the gazebo behind them quickly, but not quickly enough. When Rylie glanced behind, she saw three of the black-clad Union men separate from the others.

Bullets pinged into the snow around them, sending up white puffs.

“The Apple,” Rylie gasped. “They’re coming for us!”

Abel growled. “They can’t have you.”

Even though it looked like he had totally exhausted his strength in running, he still wrapped an arm around her and pulled her out of the way just in time for another smattering of bullets to hit the ground.

He scooped her off the ground, skirts and all, and ran faster.

Rylie gave a cry of surprise. “Wait—”

“Shut up,” Abel said, hauling her down the road toward the remnants of the barn.

There wasn’t much of the building left, but there were two half-walls, and it was enough to shelter them. Abel jumped behind it. Bullets smacked into the other side, making the wood crack.

He set her down on the dry ground.

“What are we going to do?” Rylie asked. “We can’t leave them behind! What about Gwyn, and Seth, and…?”

“Seth’s fine,” Abel said, glancing around the corner before facing her again. “Change me.”

“What?”

“You can’t wolf out. You’ll lose the baby. But you’re still Alpha—so
change me
.”

Rylie reached out a shaking hand and brushed Abel’s forehead. She focused all of her energy on him, and her wolf gladly rose to meet his.

It was easy to draw out his beast with the adrenaline roaring through her, and he changed in a rush of fur.

Seconds later, a massive black beast stood over her. He was the size of a small horse, and a thousand times more imposing.

Rylie smoothed her hand over the ruff of fur at his neck. “Be careful,” she said.

Abel jumped around the wall.

She watched through a crack in the boards as he rushed on the Union soldiers. She couldn’t see much, and she was glad for it—their screaming was horrible, and every time a gun fired, she feared that it would mean Abel’s end.

But he was a blur as he leaped through them, growling as he ripped into the men with his teeth and claws.

Rylie seriously doubted there would be any survivors.

Seth took cover behind the
presents’ table to reload his gun. The rush of adrenaline made everything around him brilliant with clarity.

More than half of the Union men had turned on them when Cain attacked. Yasir’s estimate of having five or six people on their side had been seriously optimistic. And what was worse, it looked like some of the wolves had turned traitor, too.

Seth jammed the magazine into his gun and rose, bracing his arm against the table to aim.

It was hard to tell who to shoot. Everyone was tangled in a knot of spraying blood and screams.

His gaze zeroed in on Stephanie Whyte. A werewolf had his hands around her throat.

Seth let out a breath, took aim, and fired.

A silver bullet buried in the shoulder of Stephanie’s assailant—one of the traitorous wolves, who was named Manny. He grabbed his arm with a cry of surprise, then rounded on Seth as Stephanie fled.

Seth fired again, and again. Two more to the chest.

Manny fell, most likely dead.

He didn’t let the kill distract him. He swiveled, knocking a box of china off the table. It shattered on the ground next to him.

Cain stood at the end of the aisle.

“Hello, brother,” he said.

The werewolf moved too damn fast. One second, he was a few feet away, and the next, he was on top of Seth. The handgun flew from his grip and bounced across the snow before he could even think to.

They wrestled, knocking over the table and rolling out from under the shelter of the gazebo. Snow fluttered around them.

Seth’s skull rang as Cain punched him hard, right in the jaw.

“Sorry to crash the party,” Cain growled, “but I think my invitation must have gotten lost in the mail.”

Twisting free of Cain, Seth clambered to his feet and searched for his gun. He didn’t waste breath on banter. Cain was too strong for him—much too strong.

The gun was a few feet away.

Cain jumped, and Seth rolled under him, avoiding the blow.

His unbroken hand fell on the gun. He aimed and fired.

The shot went wide.

Cain smacked the gun out of Seth’s grip and punched him—hard.

He flattened on the snow. The werewolf straddled him.

“This is for our mother,” Cain growled, drawing back his clawed hand and aiming for Seth’s heart.

A gunshot cracked just behind him.

Red fluid fountained from Cain’s shoulder. Another gunshot, and it poured from his chest. He looked down as though shocked by the wound.

Yasir walked up behind him and pointed his gun straight down at Cain’s skull.

“Watch out,” the commander told Seth, and then he fired a third time.

The bullet exploded from his skull and hit the snow right next to Seth’s head. Cain’s face blanked. He slumped to the side.

Seth pushed Cain’s limp body off of him with a shout and scrambled to his feet.

“You almost hit me!”

“But I didn’t,” Yasir said, turning to pop off a couple more shots at the crowd. His aim was fantastic—he had once been a military sharpshooter, and every bullet hit a traitorous Union member. Two men fell.

Seth couldn’t argue with his reasoning. He crouched beside Cain to inspect the wounds.

It seemed too easy. Three shots, and the half-brother that had menaced Rylie for weeks was gone. “Guess I shouldn’t complain,” he muttered with a scowl at all the blood. It had ruined his tuxedo.

He grabbed his handgun and stood beside Yasir.

There wasn’t any fight left to speak of. Everything had sorted itself out in the fastest, bloodiest way possible—the beautiful gazebo was strewn with bodies, and only a few werewolves were left standing. Seth could see Stephanie hiding behind the altar with Scott.

There was no sign of Rylie or Gwyn.

Yasir holstered his gun. “Seven of them,” he said, his eyes skimming the bodies. “Seven of my men turned on us.”

“Seems like the Union’s got a pretty big loyalty problem,” Seth said.

The commander barked a laugh and headed for the bodies. Seth moved to follow—but an arm wrapped around his throat, strong and unyielding as an iron band.

He was jerked back against a muscular body. He thrashed hard, but couldn’t break free.

“Cain!” Yasir shouted, spinning to face him again.

“Drop your gun! One move, and I pop off his head,” Cain said. His deep voice thrummed in his chest and vibrated through Seth’s back. “You want this guy alive? I want Rylie.”

Yasir was frozen with his gun half-drawn.

“Don’t,” Seth squeezed out, his vision dimming.

“I shot you in the head,” Yasir said, eyes narrowed. “I used silver bullets.”

“Guess you don’t know much about natural born werewolves,” Cain said. “Rylie. Now.”

Seth tried to shake his head, but he was confined too tightly.

Cain’s arm tightened.

And then a black mass shot over the hilltop and crashed into them both.

Seth bowled over, thrown by the momentum of being struck by a wolf. It ripped him free of Cain’s grip and knocked all the breath out of his lungs. He sprawled on the snow, gasping for oxygen.

His vision blurred, but he could just make out the huge wolf that was Abel clashing with Cain. Even as a human, Cain was powerful—more than a match for Abel. Having a hole in the side of his head didn’t even faze him.

But then Cain made the mistake of trying to shift. His skin rippled, his knees popped, and he fell to all fours.

A moment of vulnerability was enough. Abel pinned Cain to the ground, jaws buried in his throat, and he bit down.

Cain cried out.

Seth got to his feet, dizzy and unsteady. Yasir grabbed him before he could fall over. “I’ve got you,” he said.

Together, they went to Abel’s side. He had a half-human, half-wolf Cain held down with his teeth and one massive paw. He couldn’t seem to finish shifting with Abel’s teeth in his neck.

Seth patted Abel on the shoulder. It wasn’t enough to show his gratitude, but he had to try.

The wolf shied away from him.

Biting back his annoyance, Seth focused instead on Cain. “Give it up. You’re alone, and you’re not getting out of here with Rylie.”

“Oh, I’m not alone,” he said in a rasping gurgle, almost a growl. Blood bubbled in his furry throat. “You might have won this battle against me, but you’re going to lose the war, little man. I let Eleanor out, and she’s finishing off your wife as we speak.”

Seth stared. “
What
?”

“If I can’t have my pure race, nobody can,” Cain hissed.

And then the blood loss was too much. His eyes glazed over, and he passed out.

Seth wiped the sweat off his upper lip with his sleeve. If a gunshot wound to the forehead hadn’t killed Cain, then a combination of blood loss and strangulation wouldn’t, either.

But he couldn’t linger and keep trying to kill Cain. Not if Eleanor was after Rylie.

Abel had already made his decision. He released Cain and tore down the hill in a black blur.

“I’ll watch Cain,” Yasir said, pushing Seth’s shoulder. “Find Rylie. Go!”

Rylie hugged her knees to
her chest and shivered in the snow. It was quiet out on the ranch now, but she didn’t know if it was safe to emerge.

If her side had won, wouldn’t someone come to get her?

She was so busy arguing with herself over the idea of leaving that she almost didn’t notice when something else shifted in the burned remnants of the barn.

Eleanor dragged herself out of the shadows of what used to be a bedroom, and staggered toward Rylie.

Her right leg was missing below the ankle, and her spine was weirdly bowed, like it could no longer support her weight. But she
could
support a huge knife. It had a spiked blade that looked like it would hurt going in, and be impossible to remove without serious damage.

Rylie struggled to stand in her dress. “Eleanor?”

The woman limped toward her. “Did you do it?” Eleanor asked. Her words were jumbled, a little too fast. “Did you lasso my boy at long last?”

Fear made Rylie’s heart pound. But she couldn’t lose herself in the comfort of the wolf’s merciless anger, even though it tried to rise within her—Abel had said that shapeshifting would make her lose the baby.

But she also couldn’t fight Eleanor as a human, unarmed and alone.

She backed away slowly. “Wait,” Rylie said, swallowing down her wolf. “Don’t—”

Her foot caught on the train of her dress, and she tripped backwards. She landed hard on her butt. Her temple smacked into a broken board, sending her head spinning.

Eleanor lurched forward.

“Temptress,” she whispered, ichor dribbling down her lip. “
Whore
.”

Kicking her feet free of her dress, Rylie struggled to stand again. But Eleanor was strangely fast, for a woman who was falling apart. She lifted the knife.

Rylie was going to have to change. She
had
to.

She pressed a hand to her belly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, closing her eyes.

A shotgun blast rang out.

Eleanor shrieked, and Rylie’s eyes flew open.

Gwyn stood a few feet away, gun braced against her shoulder. She had blasted away part of Eleanor’s ribcage.

The knife slipped from Eleanor’s fingers and bounced across the burned ground.

“You keep the hell away from my niece,” Gwyn said.

“You can’t kill me,” Eleanor said scornfully. “I’m as immortal as you are!”

Gwyn lowered the shotgun and pulled something out of her pocket.

The animal skull.

Eleanor’s eyes widened as Gwyn lifted the tiny animal skull over her head.

“Immortal? I don’t think so. You’ve already walked this earth about thirty years too long, Eleanor.”

“It will kill you, too!”

But Gwyneth brought the skull crashing down on the wall. The bauble shattered. The skull exploded into a thousand fragments.