Saving a Wolf: Moonbound Series, Book Six Read online

  “Luther!” Tears burned her eyes, blurring her vision. “No. You can’t have him. He’s mine. You brought him to me for a reason.” Her magick swirled in the air around her and she gingerly caressed his scraped cheek.

  If she bonded with him, it wouldn’t help. Not fast enough to matter. The healing would take more than twenty-four hours and would incapacitate her in the meantime. Only one other alternative surfaced in her mind, but it would change Luther forever and he might hate her in the end.

  The guards in the jeep had continued down the road, following Faye, as if they knew Maggie was helpless. And Luther was as good as dead.

  It couldn’t all be for nothing. Her team didn’t even know she was here. Would they ever know?

  Without the information and access she had, no one would be able to get onto this island with half a chance of taking down Adrian and his operation.

  Luther’s eyes fluttered open and he coughed. “Run.” The word was hardly more than a gurgle, but it still sounded like an order. Even dying, he was telling her what to do.

  “I love you. Please forgive me for what I’m about to do.” She leaned closer, whispering the old Irish words of the ancient spell that would save his life and curse him at the same time. “Cinniúint mé glaoch ar do ainm. Banna de mheon mac tíre ar a anam. Nacht an fear seo le draíocht agus a dhéanamh air do laoch. Ón lá seo go dtí a bhás beidh sé a bheith ar cheann de do roghnaithe. Ceangailte leis an ghealach. Ceangailte leis an draíocht.”

  The Moonbound curse had been passed from mother to daughter for centuries. It was a choice only a female werewolf had to face, if she fell in love with a human. It was also the only way to heal him fast enough to get them both off this island alive.

  “Live for me, Luther. Come back to me.” She kissed his lips, praying the magick would take hold in time.

  Maggie stood, putting gentle pressure on her already healing ankle. She had to get to Faye before the guards did. Stripping out of her clothes, she shifted and ran.

  Luther rolled to one side and coughed. What had just happened?

  His whole body hurt, and hummed with energy at the same time. His left arm, which had been numb with pain, suddenly felt almost usable. He swiveled his head around, but nausea burbled up inside him.

  So much pain. He turned onto his stomach and breathed into the dirt. Get a grip, man. It’s temporary. Get up.

  He tried to remember what had happened. A thud when the Jeep had hit him, and he’d been in the air, then on the ground. But what? How could he be functional after that? He should be dead.

  A scream tore through the air and echoed toward him.

  Maggie.

  Faye.

  Raw energy surged through him and he was on his feet, limping along the road, doing his best to run. Every step he took, it seemed to get easier. Before he knew what he was doing, he was running.

  What the hell was going on?

  He stumbled across the crest of the hill and then down toward the dock. Just at the base, where the packed earth turned into sand, he saw the jeep parked, its headlights shining down toward the boathouse. The lights flickered as bodies moved right in front of them.

  Luther couldn’t make out what was happening, but as he got closer, he heard the snarl of Maggie’s wolf.

  One of the men yelled—if they were really men at all. After what he’d seen on the island, he wouldn’t have been surprised to find another couple of teenagers fighting Maggie and Faye.

  A gunshot made a loud crack sound and his pulse surged. He could feel something pressing against his skin. From the inside.

  What the damn hell?

  Another crack, and Faye yelped. Luther could just make out Maggie’s wolf jumping on the man with the gun with a vicious snarl.

  She was still alive.

  His muscles screamed to life and he ran at top speed, ignoring the thrumming pain. He unwrapped the sheet from around his arm that hampered its range of motion. He just needed to get to Maggie.

  When he reached the jeep, he saw one of the guards on the ground near the front wheel. His throat was a dark mess and he wasn’t moving.

  “Please, don’t kill me!” a male voice shouted. Luther’s eyes traveled to its source and another young guard was on the ground about ten feet away, his hands up. Maggie’s wolf advanced on him, growling, with slow steps.

  The young man had one wound across his shoulder already, but his weapon was gone. Faye cowered near one of the headlights and Luther scrambled toward her.

  “Are you okay?” He checked all her limbs, but didn’t find a wound. “Did he shoot you?”

  “N-no…” She pointed to the wolf. “He shot her.”

  But Maggie was moving. She was walking. She was fine. She would be fine.

  “Please. I promise. I won’t hurt her,” the young guard wailed. “Just let me go.”

  In a flash, Maggie’s tattooed arms and white flesh appeared. She stood like a proud warrior in the headlights. Naked and shaking.

  Luther jumped up and ran to her. He slid his arms around her and she jumped.

  Her eyes flashed wide, and she held his face in her hands. “Luther.” Her arms stole around his body and pain lanced through him. “Shit, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

  “I’ll live,” he whispered, and crashed his lips against hers in a violent kiss. He’d thought he was dead, or she was dead… he couldn’t survive without this woman.

  A swish sounded in front of them, and a scramble of feet. Luther turned to follow the sound, but there were only puddles of blood in the sand where the young guard had been. He looked down the beach, but in the dark, with all the lights out, he couldn’t see much.

  The beach continued to slope down, toward the dark water, and a hundred yards ahead, the dark finger of the dock to the boathouse began, seeming to float in the air as the ground continued to slant to the tide. He couldn’t see the guard anywhere.

  Maggie grabbed his forearm. “Don’t go after him. We need to get Faye off the island before more guards come.”

  Luther glanced up and down her body. “You’re naked.”

  “I had to take off my clothes so I could shift.” She yanked at him and loosed a painful groan. “Dammit. I can’t carry her.”

  “We don’t have to carry her. She’s not wounded.”

  “But…” She glanced back at the girl, who still cowered against the front of the jeep. “I thought he shot her.”

  “She said he shot you.” He held her at arm’s length and looked over her whole body again.”

  “He did. Once.” She gestured to her shoulder, and among the tattoos, he could just make out an ooze of dark blood. “I’ll live, too.”

  Luther released a breath and touched her cheek. “When that Jeep came, and I didn’t know what happened…”

  She tensed and turned away from his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “I had to save you. You would’ve died.” Her breath caught and she glanced over his shoulder. “Wait. Do you hear that?”

  A crackling sound came from inside the Jeep. They both walked toward it and Maggie sank to the ground beside the shivering teenager.

  “It’s okay, honey. We’re going to get you to safety.”

  Luther stepped over the body of the dead guard and stuck his head inside the Jeep. There was a radio staticking somewhere, but he couldn’t see it. He fumbled around on the ground on the driver’s side, but it wasn’t there. On the passenger’s side, his hand hit something plastic, and he picked it up.

  As soon as it was off the ground, the noise became louder. “Drake, do you copy?” the voice said, with a burst of static at the end.

  Luther rushed to Maggie’s side and dropped to the ground beside her. “Their radio.”

  “Let’s take it with us.” She struggled to her feet and pulled the girl along with her. “We need to go.”

  He followed, and they all stumbled down the beach together until they reached the long dock that stretched toward the beach hou
se. Everything was dark in the house. Was Brooks still unconscious? Or was he trying to restore power?

  The radio burst to life again. “Drake, do you read me?”

  Their feet made loud clops on the wood, and almost drowned out a repeat from the radio. In front of him, Maggie had one arm around Faye and held the rail with the other. Neither of them could make fast progress.

  Not that he was winning any races himself. But they needed to hurry. Divide and conquer.

  “You take Faye onto the boat,” Luther called ahead. “Grab some clothes from my room and get settled down there.”

  Maggie turned her head and called back to him, “What are you going to do?”

  “I need to check on Brooks. Make sure he isn’t dead. Tell him what happened.”

  Faye continued to walk ahead, but Maggie stopped and faced him. “You have to leave him here.”

  He shook his head. “They’ll think he helped us.”

  “I knocked him out. He has a giant lump on his head. He’ll be fine.”

  “He’s my friend, Mag.” A tight feeling pressed at his chest and he ignored it. “I’m not losing anyone else today.”

  “We’re going to need to get back on this island.” She put one hand on her hip and her eyebrows knit together. “We may need him later.”

  “We’re not going to leave him behind.”

  “Luther, listen to me—”

  A lurch of static from the radio made them both jump. Luther dropped the radio instinctively and a loud thud sounded near the boathouse. He turned to the source of the noise.

  Faye lay in a white heap on the ground, just near the boathouse door, completely still.

  Still as a corpse.

  Chapter Eleven

  Luther’s heart jumped into his throat and he ran for the girl. Maggie’s scream was otherworldly. One thought careened around in his mind.

  Snipers.

  When he reached Faye, his fingers immediately went for her pulse, but he couldn’t find one. He moved his hand on her neck, feeling around for one.

  But there was no shot.

  He hadn’t heard anything. The sniper had to be a mile away for him not to hear a sound. Not even the bullet landing.

  Still no pulse.

  Luther turned back to Maggie and reached out his hand. She stood, frozen, in the middle of the walkway, her hands over her mouth.

  “Come here,” he hissed. “Maggie. Now.”

  Maggie jumped to action and ran, her naked feet making soft clops on the wood. Her fingers went to Faye’s neck and she groped around for a pulse, just as he had.

  Luther gripped her shoulders and shook her. “She’s gone, Mag.”

  “No. No, no, no.” Maggie pulled at the white dress and Faye’s limp body came with it. “She can’t be gone. We-we-we have to… have to… get her off the island.” She clutched Faye to her chest. The girl’s dark hair fell over Maggie’s shoulder.

  “There might be more. We have to go now.” He yanked Faye away from her and pain spiked through his chest and arms. Ignoring the burning in his body, he pushed Maggie to her feet. “Go to the boat. Run. Stay low, but run.”

  She stumbled ahead, but kept looking back at him. He gathered Faye in his arms and struggled to his feet. She was dead weight.

  He levered himself against the wooden railing and staggered for the boat. Every step brought a new prayer, whispered only in his mind. Please don’t shoot. Please don’t shoot. Don’t shoot Maggie. Don’t shoot.

  They reached the end of the dock and lurched onto the boat. First, Maggie, collapsing with a wail, then Luther. He set Faye on the deck and sucked in air as fast as his burning lungs would allow. Her black hair made a sharp contrast against the white deck of the boat.

  She even looked dead.

  But if there was any chance she wasn’t dead, they had to take her. He scrambled back to the gangway and pulled it on board, then unhitched the rope that was still tied to the dock.

  He couldn’t risk going back in the open. He had to get Maggie to safety. The rope could be replaced. Maggie could not.

  She was huddled over Faye’s body, touching her neck, then her cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  He knelt and slid his hand onto his mate’s shaking knee. “I’m going to go start the boat and get us out of here. Can you stay with her?”

  “She’s gone,” Maggie mumbled, tears falling from her eyes and onto his thumbs. “How can she be gone? She’s a wolf. How…I don’t…”

  Nope. Can’t leave her here alone with Faye.

  “Okay, new plan.” Luther hoisted the dead girl into his arms again and spit little gusts of air when his arms threatened to rebel. “Follow me.”

  He struggled up the steps to the main deck and carried Faye under the canopy, toward the control room. They were protected from a direct shooter who had a vantage on the road, but if the sniper had been located anywhere around the inlet, or had some kind of perch atop one of the dark floodlights, they weren’t protected anywhere. He needed to get Maggie to the cabin.

  They staggered past the couch, past the bar, through the open deck, and into the cabin. Safe. He fell to his knees. He had to be running on pure adrenaline, because he was certain he wouldn’t be able to go one more step, but then he went one more step. He left Faye on the floor and crawled to the captain’s seat.

  The motor roared to life and as they slowly made their way away from the dock, Luther felt the tension release in his chest.

  Maggie was safe.

  He locked the steering wheel on and let out a long breath. Once they were past the mile mark, on their way back to Choaca, he’d turn the lights on, but he couldn’t risk the sniper range.

  Those guns could shoot more than a mile.

  Luther walked across the cabin and picked Maggie up. She struggled at first, but when he settled her into one of the leather chairs, she seemed to calm. Her bleary eyes locked onto his.

  “How can she be dead?” Her head swung back and forth, slowly. “She can’t be dead. She’s a wolf.”

  “I don’t know, Mag.” He stroked her cheek. “I need to get you some clothes. Don’t move, okay?”

  She just kept shaking her head, but she was shaking so hard, he needed a blanket or some clothing or something. He dug around in the cabin closet and pulled out one of the blue Puerto Villa staff shirts.

  The color reminded him of Clara, deep in the basement of the big house. How had he not recognized the colors? But she couldn’t be on staff at the hotel. That can’t have been what she meant.

  His brain hadn’t been able to process it at the time.

  She meant staff at the house. But she’d called Adrian her father. How could she be staff?

  Luther shook his head and took the shirt to Maggie. He slipped it over her head and pulled her arms through the holes. It swallowed her.

  He shifted her onto his lap and sat back, rubbing her arms. There was so much about this situation that he didn’t understand.

  Maggie was safe.

  That was all that mattered.

  Once the lights of Choaca were in sight, he turned on the light and the stark illumination brought a grisly feel to the scene. Faye lay on her side near the door and Luther slid Maggie into the other chair.

  His arms shouted in pain every time he moved them, but he had to keep going. Maggie was almost catatonic, Faye was gone. He was the only one left.

  He took Faye to the couch under the canopy and laid her out straight. With the faint light from the cabin, he could just make out the lines of her face. He searched her body for the bullet hole. If it was a big enough wound, that would’ve put the sniper somewhere on the beach.

  Had it been the dead guard? Had he somehow survived? Or perhaps the other one, who escaped?

  But there was no wound. Luther rolled her over and checked every inch of the fabric. Nothing. No holes. No wounds.

  Impossible.

  “Is she really dead?” Maggie’s words cut him to the core.

  He turned to fin
d her standing in the cabin door, gripping the boat with both hands, as if she was willing herself not to collapse.

  Luther ran to her and folded her into his arms. “Don’t look at this, Mag. We’ll be docking soon. I need to get back to the controls.” He pulled her with him, but she resisted.

  “Is she dead? Are you sure?”

  He sighed. “I’m sure. She’s gone.”

  Maggie shook her head and collapsed into one of the chairs. “I don’t understand. We were just standing there, and she…it doesn’t make sense.”

  “I know.” He unlocked the steering wheel and slowed their speed. They passed into the port and he headed for his familiar spot.

  He wouldn’t be able to come back to this spot. Never again.

  The silence between them was almost comforting. Nothing he could say would bring Faye back.

  Maggie needed the hospital, and he did…

  Luther glanced down at his left arm for the first time since he’d unwrapped it. Back on the island, in Rossi’s room, his flesh had been in ribbons, torn apart by a wolf. Having it wrapped had distracted him from the memory.

  Only now, there were pink marks down his arm where the flesh had been torn open. It was like he’d fast-forwarded past two weeks of stitches.

  What the hell?

  Had Maggie done some kind of spell on him to heal him? Was that why he couldn’t remember what had happened after the Jeep? Or before it?

  He shook himself as he pulled the boat up next to his parking spot. The docks were poorly lit at night, and he was going to have to turn on the lights down on the lower deck so they could get the gangway down and tie off. Not to mention the fact he needed a new anchor rope.

  “Alex!” Maggie’s voice cut into his planning and his heart lurched. She was looking at the dock and, sure enough, Luther saw a figure.

  He could barely make out the shape. The man stepped into the light, followed by another figure, and another. And another.

  Shit. Was her whole team waiting for them?

  Maggie was on her feet and waving before he could stop her. He pulled her back through the boat and toward the dock. “We have to be very careful,” he whispered. “If Rossi knows what happened on the island, we don’t have long to get off this boat.”