Night Fall on Dark Mountain (4 page)

Max Weir awoke
slowly, every muscle in his body aching. He rolled from his back onto his knees and rested his forehead on the floor for a moment to recover from the change of equilibrium, shocked his whole body trembled from the effort.

Something had kicked the shit out of him.

When he lifted his head to see, he felt a sharp tug and the bite of metal around his neck.

Instinct kicked in, and he roared, tucking in his head to lunge against the chain. When he failed to budge it, he reached deep inside for the strength to transform.

“Turn, and we’ll kill you where you sit.” The voice, soft and deadly, and with slight European inflections, was one he didn’t recognize. But Max did recognize the steel beneath the words and resisted the primal urge to let loose his inner beast on his captors.

Still woozy and struggling to regain his full intellect, Max shook his head experimentally and realized it wasn’t one leash, but two, pulling in opposite directions to keep him lowered to the floor.

Again, Max raised his head, slowly this time, and blinked against the bright light, bringing focus to his eyes. He was in the living room of the compound, in the very center. Someone had cleared away the furniture. He knelt on the beige carpet, still naked after his latest chase.

A sideways glance revealed Dylan and Joe held the ends of his chains wrapped around their fists, their expressions set and lethal. His gut twisted, betrayal tasting bitter after all he’d done to keep his spot on the Special Unit following the revelation of his true,
were
nature.

Max’s lips curled, baring his teeth.
Show the bastards the feral beast.

“I’ve no patience for posturing.”

Again, that damnable voice. Max slowly lifted his head to stare at the vamp who could only be Navarro, the Master from the Northwest Council.

He sat in a chair facing Max. His dark sloe eyes narrowed as he stared.

“Why am I chained?” Max asked, not surprised to find his voice hoarse, his throat raw. He recalled a struggle and choking.

“The more appropriate question would be why are you still living?” Navarro asked, no hint of his thoughts in his even tone.

Unable to glance around, Max sniffed to determine if others watched, but found no more nearby scents. Only the odor of death, overlaid with the musk of several wolves. Somewhere distant in the house. “They got inside the compound?”

“Don’t give me a ration of shit,
wer
e,” Joe shouted, jerking on his chain.

“You knew they were close?” Dylan asked from the end of his chain, his voice soft, but menacing.

Max gritted his teeth, fighting for breath as the metal constricted around his throat. “I caught their scent and followed them—
outside
the gate.”

“Why didn’t you radio to the others and sound the alert?” Joe jerked the chain again.

“Bastard!” Max spat. “Comms were out.”

“What did you do with the guards?” Joe asked, with another tug.

Max gasped. If he ever got free, he’d tear his
buddy
a new asshole. “Not a fucking thing… Didn’t encounter any.”

“How convenient,” Joe sneered. “And you didn’t question that fact?”

“I sent Pia…to round up the guards. Slipped out the gate…wanted to keep their trail.”

Joe wound the chain rope over and over his fist, coming closer. He leaned down, close enough so Max could see the golden discs of his eyes and his vampire fangs. “And did you find them, ole buddy?”

“I think so.”

The chain held by Dylan tightened.

Max cursed. “I transformed. I remember impressions…of wolves. Several surrounding me…after I’d chased them a while.”

“You were surrounded by wolves?” Joe asked, his voice low and deadly. “Must have been a family reunion. You don’t have a scratch on you.”

“I…don’t…know why…they wouldn’t fight me,” Max panted, trying to draw in air past the constricting metal. “I smell blood.”

Joe slammed his side. “Nice try, fucking wolf. Tell me you don’t know Darcy’s dead!”

Max felt light-headed, ready to pass out, but turned to stare. “What the fuck?” His throat closed so tight, the words were forced.

“She’s dead
, were
!” Joe shouted, his face red, tears filling his eyes. “And I’m gonna fucking kill you myself!”

“You think I—” The look on Joe’s face said he didn’t care if Max had been the one to hurt Darcy or not. He wanted blood.

“Pia?” Max whispered. “Pia’s…all right?” He struggled to get to his feet.

“Stay on your knees and clasp your hands behind your back.” This came from Navarro, who’d watched the whole inquiry in silence. “Loosen the chain a little, Joe. I don’t want him dead…yet.”

Max glared at his rescuer, but complied with his orders, and when the chain relented, he dragged air into his burning lungs.

A radio squawked. “Dylan!” Emmy’s voice broke over the air.

Dylan unclipped a radio from his belt with his free hand. “What’s up, Em? Did you reach the limo?”

“Yeah.” Emmy paused to clear her throat. “But tell Navarro the driver and Sidney are both out cold. And Dylan, Dr. Deats and his colleagues are gone.”

“Mother-fuckin’ bastards,” Joe swore.

Dylan aimed a deadly glare at Max and spoke into the radio. “Hot-foot it back here—”

“Already pulling through the gates, baby.”

Navarro’s eyes closed momentarily, and then he stood. “Bring everyone here,” he said, enunciating so precisely the Spanish inflections in his voice sliced the air. “Lock down this place. And then I want everyone in this room. Get this dog some clothes.” He left in the direction of the front of the house as tires squealed in the distance.

Max slumped to his knees. “Darcy was killed by a wolf?”

Joe didn’t answer, but his breaths grew choppy.

“I swear, I didn’t know. I wasn’t part of this.”

“Save it for someone who gives a damn. Far as I’m concerned, you’re a walking dead man.”

‡

C
lothed, but still
chained like an animal, Max waited as the others gathered in the living room.

Navarro carried a blonde woman inside and deposited her on a sofa. He kept her head in his lap while she slept off the effects of the drug used to incapacitate her and the driver while the three scientists were taken.

Max figured she must be Sidney, Navarro’s new woman, by the tender way he combed back her chin-length hair.

Would he ever have that pleasure again? His fingers curled into fists, and he didn’t relax until Pia descended the curved staircase, her face pale and tear-streaked.

She held his gaze, sorrow and fear trembling on her lips. Then her gaze dipped to the chain around his neck and anger sparked in her eyes.

The human guards had been found alive, lying atop one another in a corner of the courtyard, also sleeping off drugs—administered by darts. With a new crew patrolling outside, Quentin and Darcy were the only residents missing from the meeting.

Max’s stomach clenched as the magnitude of his failure hit him. Darcy was dead because he’d fallen for the pack’s ruse. They’d drawn him away from the compound with a calculation far too sophisticated for a random act. They’d deliberately pulled him away, leaving the pregnant women, Darcy and Lily, vulnerable. And he’d fallen for it. He’d abandoned them when they’d needed his protection most.

In her condition, the gutsy woman who’d been his team mate on the Special Unit’s task force hadn’t stood a chance. He could well imagine how Darcy had been attacked, mauled by one of his kind. The images replayed in his mind, sickening him to the point he was ready to suffer the group’s rage.

His head hung low, his body weary beyond words. His relief at Pia’s presence only momentarily lifted the shadows crowding in to suffocate him.

“We have to assume Zachary Powell was behind the plan,” Navarro said, his expression stony.

Lily wept softly, sitting on a sofa with Pia’s arm draped over her shoulder. “Christ, did you see Darcy?”

Pia shook her head. “Quentin wrapped her body in a sheet and took her to their quarters.” She drew a shaky breath. “He won’t let anyone inside.”

Joe yanked on Max’s chain, his expression cold and set, his eyes dry now and deadly.

Max wondered if Joe even remembered that once they’d been tight. Close as brothers. Before Joe had been turned into a bloodsucking demon. And before he’d learned Max was a born werewolf.
His born enemy.

“Is it really necessary to keep him chained?” Pia asked, glaring at Joe. “He didn’t have a damn thing to do with this.”

“Says who?” Joe’s voice was low and filled with scorn. He swept the room with a glance. “He joined a little gathering outside the compound. Told us so. If he’d been on our side, he would have taken out a few. Do you see a scratch on him?”

Pia’s lips tightened, and Max wondered if the others’ condemnation was shaking her loyalty.

“He and his kind killed my child.” Joe’s lips curled back in a snarl. “They fucking ripped open Darcy’s belly to get it.”

Max’s gut roiled at hearing how Darcy had died. No wonder Joe was ready to skin him alive. “Pia, maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

Her face blanched, and her eyes filled. “Not Max. He didn’t do it.”

She shook her head in denial, but another’s voice spoke for her.

“No, he didn’t do it.”

Max jerked his head up at Navarro’s quietly spoken words.

“But he has an idea who might be involved.”

Navarro stared so intently Max felt the vampire burrowing inside his thoughts. The hairs on the back of his neck lifted, and Max tried to close his mind. The vamp was a goddamn psychic. He could almost feel him sifting through his thoughts, searching for the clues that would betray Max’s blood oath to his own kin. He tried not to think of his brother and the pine thickets of his home. Tried to return the unblinking stare without giving away secrets that would endanger his whole clan.

“You’ve seen something,” Dylan said softly.

“I see confusion and grief,” Navarro replied, “and enough anger that Joe had better not take his eyes off his friend for a second. I also see family.” Navarro canted his head, his eerie stare unwavering. “A golden wolf.”

Max bared his teeth and growled.

“You wonder whether your clan is involved.”

Max swung his gaze to Pia, anything to give the vamp another image and throw him off his current path.

Pia’s heart-shaped face wore a pinched expression. Her brown eyes were enormous, but her gaze held his, her heart in her eyes.

Max’s chest grew tight. He hated having her see him like this. Chained like a rabid dog. Never had their differences been so sharply drawn into focus. She stood firmly in the vampire camp. He wore a damn collar.

At least, she was safe. The panic he’d felt when he wasn’t sure whose blood scented the air had eased. She’d have others around to console her. Other than Pia, not a soul would regret his death. His own family thought him a traitor for loving a vamp and working alongside others. They reviled him for failing to bring them the breeder, Lily. Or at the very least, to kill her before she bore Joe’s children.

“As unsettling as their breach of our security,” Dylan said, clearing his throat, “is the fact they took Dr. Deats and his associates. Why would werewolves need geneticists?”

“They are in league with Zachary Powell,” Navarro murmured.

Max shook his head vehemently. “Never! They wouldn’t conspire with a vampire.”
Navarro has to be wrong!

“But they have,” Navarro said, his gaze dropping to the woman who stirred against his lap. His lips thinned. “They knew we were arriving with the three scientists. It’s certain they wanted to take Lily, too, but they had a second aim. Zachary Powell orchestrated this.”

“If that’s true,” Dylan said, his jaw clenching, “then we have a war.”

“We are at an impasse.” Navarro studied each person assembled in the room. “We must know where the scientists have been taken and for what purpose.” His gaze finally came back to Max. “We will need your help to do this.”

A reprieve? Max’s breath caught in his chest. Was it possible he might escape death tonight? He shook his head again. “I won’t betray my people.”

“Perhaps your kind doesn’t know what sort of vampire Zachary Powell is. You need to tell them.” Navarro nodded. “Both our species must cooperate to defeat him.”

Relief flooded his body as Navarro’s intention became clearer. “I agree,” Max said without looking up. “He’s a danger to both our communities and risks the balance we maintain with humans.” He raised his head. For the first time since awakening, hope and purpose filled him. “I can help, but I want these chains removed.”

Navarro studied him for a long, intrusive moment, and then nodded.

Dylan unsnapped his lead.

“I don’t believe this.” Joe held up his fist with the silver chain glinting in the lamp light. “You think you know what’s in his mind? That he’ll really help us? He hates us.”

Pia rose from the sofa and circled behind Max to unclasp the collar from his neck, and then trailed a finger on his skin. “Max doesn’t hate you, Joe,” she said, holding Max’s gaze.

Max snorted.