Moon Sworn

even he couldn’t be that innocent. Not if he came from the same pack that I did.

“I gather they’ve been allowing you to talk to Lyndal when you report in every night?”

“Yeah.” Fury and desperation swirled through his voice, sharp in the darkness. “They’ve been given her a rough time.”

Which could have meant anything from verbal to physical abuse, but I didn’t ask him to clarify because, really, there was no point. There wasn’t anything we could do to prevent it right now.

“She’s still alive, Evin. Hold on to that.”

“But she’s pregnant.”

I briefly closed my eyes against the fury that swept me. They were bastards. Complete and utter bastards.

“I’d rather hold on to the hope of revenge,” he added as his gaze met mine. His gray eyes were dark and his expression was pensive. “Will you help me get that?”

“If you help me get mine—and not just by giving me information. I mean tracking these bastards down and stopping them. Whatever it takes.”

“Whatever it takes,” he murmured, and shivered. “I have a feeling you’re far more used to that sort of thing than I am.”

“If you’re a border guard, then you obviously can fight. That’s what I need. I can handle the finer details.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.”

He touched his neck briefly, then jerked his fingers away. I thought about stopping the truck to undo the wire, but he didn’t seem to be in great discomfort and I wanted to get as far away from those men as possible. I really didn’t trust them not to have some form of backup plan in the event of things going wrong—like us escaping.

Evin added, “You know, I’m really surprised that they didn’t just kill you. It would have been less dangerous for them.”

“But not as much fun.”

“If this is someone’s idea of a good time, then they are seriously warped.”

“Yeah, he is,” I said, and again heard that smooth, cultured voice telling me to enjoy the time I had remaining. Damn it, I needed to remember!

Pinpoint pricks of light appeared in the distance. There was a car on the horizon, and it was approaching fast.

Denny’s backup plan, perhaps?

“What’s the cell phone reception like up here?” I asked, flexing my fingers against the wheel. It didn’t do a whole lot to ease the tension suddenly rolling through me.

“It’s pretty shitty, actually,” he said. “Why?”

I nodded toward the growing light points. “What are the odds of another car being on this particular road at this time of night? The road only goes to the whaling station ruins, and it’s not exactly a good time to be viewing them, is it?”

“They had a CB radio in one of the other trucks—I heard them talking on it—but there’s no way help would get here this soon.”

“Unless someone was already nearby. How far does the pack’s land boundary extend?”

“I have no idea.”

We drove on, watching those twin specks of light grow brighter and brighter. Tension crawled through my limbs, and I was gripping the steering wheel so hard my hands were beginning to cramp. I flexed my fingers and forced myself to relax.

The lights flicked down to low beam as the car drew nearer. I pulled over to the edge of the road, allowing the other car plenty of room. He repeated the action and we passed each other quickly and without incident. I had a brief glimpse of a white face, dark hair, and sharp, arrogant nose and knew, without a doubt, who it was.

“Shit,” Evin said. “That was Mike West.”

“There was another murder in town tonight,” I said, voice grim. “I wonder why he’s here and not helping Harris.”

“Maybe someone told them about Denny’s plans.”

“Maybe.” But West would have had to have left Dunedan not long after me to get here this soon. And while I had no doubt that someone had been watching our villa, I very much doubted whether they’d have gone running to either Harris or West the minute I’d disappeared.

So why was West out here?

Was this the reason he hadn’t been answering Harris’s calls?

Maybe I was being suspicious for no reason; maybe he really did have a good reason for being here. But whoever was behind my kidnapping had to have someone else other than Evin here in Dunedan—and what better backup could there be than one of the town cops?

And it might just explain why Harris had been getting no responses to his queries to the Directorate. West could have easily either not sent them or intercepted them.

I glanced in the rearview mirror, watching his tail-lights, half expecting him to turn around and chase us. But he didn’t, and I wasn’t entirely sure whether that was a good thing or bad.

One thing was sure, though—I needed to talk to Harris, and as soon as possible.

I glanced at Evin. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

“I think they have someone else on the ground here. They seem to know stuff that I haven’t mentioned.” He hesitated, and glanced at me sharply. “You don’t think it could be West, do you?”

I smiled. “Sometimes you’re so like me it’s almost like you are my brother.”

“But West is a cop.”

“A cop who is desperate to get out of this town and into some ‘real policing,’ as he puts it.”

“I don’t know—”

“Neither do I,” I cut in. “But I sure as hell intend to find out.”

“But how?”

“By talking to the man in charge.”

“Harris? He works with West. He’s not going to believe the worst of a workmate.”

“Harris is a good cop. He’ll listen, he’ll consider the evidence, and he’ll make his own decision.”

Evin grunted. And it wasn’t a convinced-sounding grunt, either. “There is one thing they did tell me.”

When he didn’t go on, I raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “What?”

He hesitated. “It sounds kind of silly, but they told me to make sure you never took the earrings off.”

Something inside me twisted. The earrings. I knew there was something odd about them. “Did they say why?”

“No.” Again he hesitated. “Not exactly. They just said you needed them on so that controlling you was easier.”

Controlling me? Or controlling my wolf and other gifts?

I swerved over to the side of the road and stopped the truck. Dust flew around us as the tires skidded on the uneven shoulder. “Open the glove compartment and see if there’s a knife in there.”

He didn’t move. “Get the wire off my neck, Hanna. Fair is fair.”

He was right. I motioned him to turn around. He did so, and lifted his hair so I could get to the knot at the back easier. His neck was raw and weeping, and guilt spun through me. I really should have taken it off earlier.

I reached for the wire, but the minute my fingertips touched it, blue sparks erupted. I jerked my hand away and glanced at my fingertips. They were burned.

“What’s wrong?” Evin said, voice sharp.

“It would appear I’m extremely sensitive to silver. Wait here.”

I climbed out of the cab and into the bed at the back, quickly flipping open the tool box. There was a wire cutter sitting on the top, but that was next to useless—the silver was sitting too tightly against Evin’s neck to risk using it. I pushed the tools around and found not only a pair of gloves but also a switchblade. I grabbed them both, then jumped back into the truck.