Page 60 of Witch's Moon
Last night, with Caleb, she’d been angry, frustrated that he wouldn’t accept what needed to be done. And perhaps, if she was honest with herself, she’d been a little scared that she was beginning to care for him.
But scared or not, she couldn’t run away from this, and somehow, she had to persuade Caleb that he couldn’t run either.
She also needed to face her own demons. She couldn’t see how her past could be connected to all this—she’d always believed the past was dead. Now it appeared to be coming back to haunt her. Maybe by speaking of it aloud, facing it, she could finally put the nightmares behind her and move on.
A black SUV stood parked in the drive. Regan didn’t recognize the vehicle, and a sense of foreboding washed over her. She reached out with her mind, discovered Caleb was not at home, and some of her anxiety seeped away.
Kelly and Jason should still be here though. Had Ethan come after them? Was he here even now?
A movement at the front door caught her eye. She stepped back behind the broad trunk of a tree. Two men came out of the house and down the steps toward the vehicle. Both wore grim expressions, but neither of them was Ethan Stone, and her tense muscles relaxed. She thought about stopping them, and then decided checking on Kelly and Jason was more important. She waited until they’d driven away and then ran to the house.
She was too late. She knew it as soon as she opened the door, and the scent of fresh blood hit her nostrils. Pushing open the door to the sitting room, she stared down at the lifeless bodies. For a minute, she stood, trying to sense if the souls remained, but they were gone. It was often like that when death came suddenly, sometimes they lingered, but mostly they fled the scene. She hoped Catrin or Gina would see them safely on their way to the Shadowlands.
She crossed the room, picked up the phone, and called Caleb’s office.
∞∞∞
The electric gates were wide open. Caleb’s hands tightened on the wheel, and he drove through at breakneck speed, slamming on the brakes and screeching to a halt outside the house. He leapt from the car. Regan stood on the steps, her beautiful face expressionless, her eyes cold, hard as ice.
“Where are they?” he said.
“You’re too late,” she replied. “They’re both dead.”
Rage roared through him. He charged up the steps and past her into the house, coming to an abrupt halt as the heavy, acrid scent of fresh blood filled his nostrils.
He found them in the sitting room where he’d treated Jason’s wounds. Kelly sprawled facedown across the sofa in a pool of crimson, Jason on the floor beneath the window.
Crouching down beside Kelly, Caleb turned her gently and swore under his breath. Her head fell back, revealing the jagged open wound at her neck. Her jugular vein had been severed with one deep claw cut across the throat—his father’s classic method of dealing with anyone who stood against him. For a minute, guilt warred with the rage burning inside Caleb. This was his fault.
He viewed the room through a red veil as the fury rose up inside him. And as his fury rose, wolf stirred in the deep recesses of Caleb’s mind. He woke and stretched, scented the fresh blood, and threw back his head and howled.
Mine.
The word screamed through Caleb’s head, and he realized something then. It wasn’t only Caleb who had offered his protection to Kelly and Jason. It was his wolf as well. And wolf was howling for revenge.
“Are you satisfied now?” Regan asked.
Caleb fought for control. He gave a silent promise to wolf that there would be a reckoning for this. Ethan had gone too far, and he would pay the price. With the promise, wolf quieted, and Caleb glanced up from the body. Regan stood in the doorway, leaning against the wall, arms folded across her chest.
“No,” he said.
She stared at him, and he allowed his outrage to show in his eyes. She nodded once. “So, are you willing to do something about it?”
“Ethan will pay.”
“Good. I saw them,” she said. “They were leaving as I got here.”
“Who was it?”
“Two men. Both tall, dark-haired, one had a scar down his right cheek—”
He recognized the description immediately. “Stefan and Dave—they’ll be my father’s seconds now that Tom is gone.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t do it himself.”
Her voice cracked, and he looked at her closely. He’d thought she was cold, feeling nothing, but now he saw the pain in her eyes. He considered lying, but the time for lying was over. He’d told Ethan that these two were under his protection, and his father had killed them anyway. Or maybe anyway was the wrong word—maybe they diedbecauseCaleb gave his protection. Ethan was making a point, and Caleb wasn’t too stupid to get it, but Ethan had also made a big mistake. Caleb could no longer stand on the sidelines and pretend this was nothing to do with him.
“He couldn’t,” he said now. “Ethan was with me.”
