Page 26 of Moonlit Nights & Northern Lights
“And do you know what they did with that information?”
I didn’t need telepathy to know the answer to that—it was written, plain as day, on his face.
I schooled the distaste from my face. “So, back to Dev. You gave them his name?”
Confusion crossed his face. “No, that was different. Dev isn’t packless. They already knew about him. Our job was to pretend to give him information while finding out how much he knew about their operation.Then we’d report back.” Brody looked away. “But we’re done with them, now. Promise. Cut ties last week. After Dev. It got… We didn’t sign up for…”
“Well, aren’t you just a paragon of moral virtue,” I said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Cutting ties after how many wolves disappeared? Your conscience must be so relieved.”
“Look, man—”
“So, what did you tell them? WhatdidDev know?”Enough to get him disappeared.
Brody’s expression shifted. “Dev was pretty sharp, actually. He knew something was off with us from the beginning. We tried to get him talking about what he knew about Meridian, but he kept things vague. Like he was testing us.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, he’s good. Had this way of making you want to tell him things without giving anything away himself.” Brody’s eyes took on a distant quality. “Charming guy, Dev. Gets you talking before you even realise it’s happening, you know?”
I clenched my jaw, sudden irritation building. Maybe it was the way everyone seemed bewitched by this journalist I’d never met—Rory still hung up on him nine months after their breakup, this other wolf practically starry-eyed despite being paid to spy on him.
“Well, whatever you fed back to Meridian was obviously enough to—”
The door flew open with enough force to slam against the wall. I spun around, instinctively positioning myself between Brody and the newcomer.
The one and only Dominic Thrift—powerful, ancient vampire and owner of Undertone—stood in the doorway. Resplendent in a deep purple velvet jacket, his platinum hair caught the dim light as he looked us over with cold calculation.
“Well, isn’t this cosy?” he drawled, long, sharp nails tapping against the doorframe. “Marley informed me they permitted entry to one Detective Inspector Maxwell and Rory Thorne this evening.” His gazeswept over the dishevelled state of the room, my split lip, Brody’s rumpled clothes. “I decided to allow it, as a professional courtesy. But now you’re harassing my patrons.”
“This isn’t—”
“I don’t particularly care what it is, darling.” Dominic’s voice dripped with disdain. “You’re upsetting my customers, and that simply won’t do.” He turned his attention to Brody. “Run along now, sweet thing.”
Brody didn’t need to be told twice. He scampered past Dominic, disappearing into the corridor without a backward glance.
“You’ve got five minutes to collect the puppy and leave,” Dominic snarled. “Get out of here. Anddon’tcome back.”
Heart hammering against my ribs, I nodded, briskly passing him, heading straight down the corridor. As soon as I reached the dance floor, the migraine that had been threatening all night pulsed behind my eyes, intensified by the strobe lights and pounding bass.
The room had transformed since I’d left. Bodies packed together, writhing in time to music that seemed to physically assault my senses. The air hung heavy—a perfume of midnight desires and abandoned inhibitions.
I scanned the crowd, squinting against the flashing lights. And then I saw them.
Rory, flushed and laughing, swaying to the music with a purple cocktail clutched in one hand. Fury bubbled up inside me.Another drink. Really?Wrapped around him like a second skin was Bradley, with that ridiculous man bun that made him look like he’d stepped out of some hipster coffee shop commercial.
Bradley’s hands rested on Rory’s hips, fingers splayed possessively. As I watched, those hands slid lower, dipping beneath the waistband of Rory’s jeans. Rory stumbled, nearly spilling his drink, and Bradley caught him, using the opportunity to pull him closer, whispering something in his ear that made Rory beam up at him.
My head pounded harder, each flash of the strobe lights like hammers against my skull. Fragments of thoughts from the crowd crashed against my alreadybattered mental shields—lust, want, need—a cacophony of desire that mixed with my own churning emotions until I couldn’t tell what belonged to me anymore. The careful control I prided myself on was cracking, piece by piece.
Rory’s loud laugh drifted over the music, carefree and bright, and something horrible twisted inside me. I’d never heard him laugh quite likethat.
And the way he was looking at Bradley right now, like he was the centre of his universe…
Something inside me snapped.
Before I realised what was happening, I was cutting through the dance floor, shoving dancers aside with no apologies. Heat surged through my veins—something wild, something primal.
I reached them just as Bradley’s hands slipped even lower, cupping Rory’s ass beneath his jeans. Rory’s eyes were glazed, his movements uncoordinated.
