Page 91 of Marked By Moonlight

On his front stoop, Cooper turned to face him. He stared right through Gideon, his look quelling. “I don’t help lycans.” He turned around and unlocked his front door, calling out just before the door slammed behind him, “Or their friends.”

The waning afternoon simmered all around him as he fought through the thick growth of trees and brush. The air hugged him, dense and moist as Gideon swung himself over the fence. Locusts roared dully to each other in the trees, their calls growing in frenzy. He inhaled deeply, trying to steady his pulse and clear his head. Hard to do when his thoughts were full of Claire and what she must be enduring within the lycan’s compound.

The tang of pine was sharp in the steaming air, making his skin itch. Sweat trickled down his spine as he led the way, leaving the road and world behind.

It was a prime piece of real estate. Close enough to commute to the city but remote and private enough that no one would note any suspicious comings and goings. Leaving the property uncleared had been a deliberate move. It took half an hour to reach the house through the heavy undergrowth.

The woods finally gave way to reveal a rambling structure that looked more like a dormitory than a house.

Gideon dropped to his stomach and crawled as close as he dared to the compound. “There.” He pointed to a second-story window positioned above an outside air-conditioning unit. That was their way in.

Darius crawled up beside him and nodded in unspoken agreement.

Two lycans chatted beneath the front portico—one male, one female. They looked almost normal, pushing back and forth on a swing, chatting companionably. At one point the female laughed, throwing back her head in delight. The sound rose over the locusts and slithered through the air.

Darius tensed beside him. He pointed to the woman. “That’s Jesslyn.”

Gideon eyed Darius, noting his stony expression. The tight compression of his lips said it all. “Old friends?”

Darius nodded. “She was a prize breeder for the pack three hundred years ago.”

“Doubtful she still is,” Gideon observed, knowing a female lycan’s fertility had a limit. It varied, but most were purported to breed for only two to three hundred years.

Darius cut him a sharp glance. “You’ve done your homework.”

“It’s part of the job.”

“Saving would-be lycans part of the job, too?”

Gideon shrugged, uncomfortable discussing Claire with a lycan who wanted her for himself. He felt the old familiar scorn surfacing. He didn’t fully understand why Darius chose to lead an atypical existence, but it was too late for him. Darius was damned. He had murdered countless innocents. There was no redemption in store for him.

“Jesslyn was a particular favorite of Cyril’s. At least when I—” Darius stopped and shook his head.

A sneaking suspicion began to take root that Darius’s past was tied up with Cyril and this pack.

To verify, he asked, “Anything you need to tell me before we go in there?”

“Yes. I want to take her and Cyril out myself.”

Gideon cocked a brow. “Bad blood, huh?”

“I owe them.”

“How’s that?”

Darius’s dark brows drew tight over his pewter gaze as he stared at the female lycan he wanted to kill. “For almost a thousand years the beast ruled me. I lived to feed. Then, one day, I met a girl—a woman. The daughter of a shaman. She had her father’s gift. Though she was still young, untried, she used her powers to try to break my curse.” He shook his dark head, a tinge of awe in his voice as he murmured, “She was not afraid of me. Even invitedme in among her people. Can you imagine that? She knew me for what I was and was not afraid. She wanted to help me.”

“You loved her?”

“I could have,” he allowed, jaw clenching. “The pack never let me.”

“They killed her?”

“No.” Darius turned silver eyes on him. “But they forced me to.” Turning, he faced forward again.

Gideon stared at the lycan for a long moment, seeing him perhaps for the first time and realizing that they had something in common. The curse had cost them. Something more precious than their own lives. The lives of people close to them, loved ones who died horrible, undeserving deaths while Gideon and Darius remained behind to suffer the memories.

A blue conversion van with tinted windows pulled up in front of the house then, drawing his attention. Doors slammed. Three lycans exited the van and walked to the back, opening the rear doors. The two on the porch joined them. Although they moved slowly, calmly, an air of eagerness simmered just beneath the surface. One by one, they hefted several unconscious bodies into their arms. Gideon counted a total of five. Three girls and two boys.

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