Moon Sworn

West swung around. “Damn it, keep out of my thoughts.”

“No.” Quinn crossed his arms. “Although I merely read your surface thoughts, not deeper layers. Be thankful for that.”

Confusion crossed West’s face, and I can’t say I entirely blamed him. Even I wasn’t sure what Quinn meant—I mean, reading deeper thoughts wasn’t painful for either the reader or the readee. Though maybe it could be, if the reader wanted revenge rather than mere information.

“Harris,” West said, “surely you can—”

Harris was shaking his head. “You’ve basically just confirmed what everyone in this room already knew, Mike. I’d given you the benefit of the doubt, but that belief was obviously misplaced. I will try to ensure fair treatment, but you had better start answering their questions. As they said, they can legally do what they want with you.”

West slumped back onto the nearest chair. He took a sip of coffee, then said heavily, “I was only doing a favor for a friend.”

“A friend who was going to return the favor by getting you transferred to a city location.” It was a statement, not a question. West had told me as much earlier. “In many respects, that could be considered accepting a bribe.”

“He was just going to recommend me for positions,” West retorted. “I wasn’t being given anything.”

“A technicality in this day and age,” Harris said heavily. “Especially given the many corruption inquiries over recent years. Surely you understood the risk?”

“But I needed the help, damn it!” West exploded. “Being stuck in this goddamn piece of nowhere is killing me. No department wants a cop whose only experience is in a backward country town where nothing happens.”

Two murders in twenty-four hours isn’t what I’d call nothing. But then, maybe that was simply because I was here, and I tended to attract trouble.

“So what is the name of this friend you did the favor for?”

West wiped a hand across his face. “His name is Tyson Jenson. He’s the pack leader from the Cona Creek—

which is in Queensland—London pack.”

I frowned. “How can Tyson be the leader of the London pack? He’s a Jenson.”

Even as I said the words, something inside me twisted angrily. Tyson Jenson might not be from my Jenson pack, but he was related. He was Blake’s brother.

Evin’s hand touched mine, squeezing gently. He might not be able to read thoughts, but he could smell anger, and right now, his senses were probably swamped with it.

West shrugged. “He challenged for the lead. I guess since he was mated to the pack leader’s eldest daughter, they allowed it.”

Then they were fools. “So what, exactly, did he ask you to do?”

“He told me he needed to get a troublesome wolf out of the way for a week or so. He asked me to keep on eye on both her and her brother, and to report back anything and everything they did.”

“Did he tell you why?”

West shook his head. “He just said you were causing serious trouble within the pack, and he needed you out of the way while he calmed things down.” He hesitated. “I asked how the hell I was supposed to even keep you here, and he said that wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Because I was being drugged and I had my memory tampered with.”

“He didn’t tell me that. He said it was Evin’s job to keep you calm.”

“But surely to God you suspected something was up?” Harris said, frustration edging into his normally smooth tones. “You’re a good cop, Mike. You had to have to have been a little suspicious.”

“I’ve known Tyson for years. We went through training together—although he washed out during the last few weeks.” West shrugged. “I had no reason not to trust what he was telling me. Not initially.”

“And yet you didn’t send through Harris’s request for information about me to the Directorate. Was that at Tyson’s order?”

He hesitated. “It wasn’t an order.”

Order or not, it wasn’t right and he knew it. “Did he say why?”

West took a sip of coffee, then shrugged again. “He asked me to delay it a day or so, that’s all. When I asked why, he begged off, saying it was related to the mess he was trying to sort out.”

“And this didn’t raise your alarms?”

“Of course it did. That’s why I was keeping an even closer eye on you. And how I knew that damn fool Denny was up to something.” He hesitated. “I did go out to the whaling station to rescue you. I wasn’t involved with that idiot’s plans in any way, shape, or form.”

“So why did you keep driving toward the whaling station when we passed you on the road?” Evin asked.

West frowned. “I didn’t see—” He hesitated, and snorted. “You were in Grant’s truck. That’s why he was so pissed off.”

“Shame we didn’t actually wreck the truck,” Evin murmured. “The bastard certainly deserves it.”

I smiled. Evin might not be blood kin, but he certainly thought like us. “How do you contact Tyson?”

“He phones me.”

“Home or cell?”

“Cell. Every night at ten.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Even tonight?”

“Yeah. He was furious when I told him that Denny had snatched Evin and was holding him hostage against your appearance.”

“So you also went out there because he ordered you to?”

Anger flashed through his expression. “As I said, I went out there because I’m a cop and it’s my duty to stop him. No one told me to do anything.”

But the fact that his duty and Tyson’s orders coincided wouldn’t have hurt.

“Is Tyson the only contact you’ve had?”

“Yes.”

“What number does he phone from?”

“I don’t know. The number is always blocked.”

I gave him a disbelieving look. “You’re a cop, and you’re trying to tell me that didn’t bother you? When this man is your friend?”

He smiled thinly and reeled off a number. “It’s a Northern Territory number. Tyson’s pack is in Queensland.”

I glanced at Evin, who shook his head. “The number I phone is a Melbourne one.”

“So we have Tyson in the Northern Territory and the people holding your mate hostage in Melbourne. Meaning Tyson’s not alone in this.”

“We all knew that from the beginning,” Quinn commented. “Just as we all know who is behind this.”

I glanced at him. “We can’t move until we’ve rescued Evin’s mate. And a little concrete proof would be nice, too.” Certainly it’ll make it easier for Jack to issue a retribution order.

Or a death order.

Something within me shivered. I really didn’t want Blake dead, no matter what he’d done, but I might not have that choice anymore. I’d given him one chance already, and he’d thrown it back in my face.

And I had no doubt he’d keep at me until he achieved his aim: my death, and maybe even Rhoan’s.

We had a pack of our own to consider—we had a child on the way. It went beyond my and Rhoan’s safety now.

“We have two choices, then.” Quinn’s face was still impassive, but the sense of menace brewed like a storm around him. “We go after Tyson, or we hunt down those who have Evin’s mate.”

“If we go after Tyson, the game is up. Besides, such a move would only endanger Lyndal—Evin’s mate,” I