Shadow of the Moon Box Set (Werewolf / Shifter Romance) Read online

  "You've got to be kidding me. . ." I murmured as I slipped inside.

  I crept up to the box and looked it over. It was made of some dark-red wood and the hinges were on the side that faced away from the door. I knelt down and slipped my fingers beneath the lid. An easy lift and the lid flew open. I looked in.

  Quinn looked back at me.

  I yelped and stumbled back on my hands and knees. My eyes never left the box as my back hit the wall close to the door. I tried to get a hold of my oncoming heart attack and make some sense out of what I saw. Whatever I saw, it wasn't Quinn sitting up. Nobody appeared out of the box.

  I slid my back up the wall onto my feet and peered into the box. Quinn lay there in the same position with his eyes staring at the ceiling.

  "Quinn?" I whispered. No reply, and no breathing. His chest didn't move an inch.

  I slipped over to the box, and looked down at Quinn and his bed. The inside of the box was lined with soft red velvet and there was a pillow at the head. Quinn lay there with his hands clasped on his chest and as still as death.

  I knelt beside the box and took hold of one of his arms. He didn't object, and I checked for his pulse. I felt the color drain from my face when I didn't feel anything. No pulse, but there also wasn't any rigor mortus. If this guy was a stiff, he wasn't stiff yet. That meant either I was dealing with a freshly dead guy, or a long undead guy.

  Unfortunately, in my recent line of work my brain aimed towards the latter rather than the former, and I guessed Quinn was a former human-turned-blood sucker. I dropped his hand back onto his chest and looked at his pale face.

  "Damn it, Quinn. Why'd you have to do this to me?" I murmured. I turned around and rested my back against the side of the coffin. "Seriously? Why couldn't you have been just a normal guy?"

  "Because that is no more me than it is you," a voice whispered in my ear.

  I yelped and sprang to my feet. I spun around and saw Quinn in a seated position with a smile slapped on his face.

  "You're supposed to be dead!" I shouted at him.

  "Undead, Detective," he corrected me.

  I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest. "If you're undead than how are you awake? And why the hell didn't you wake up when I was checking your pulse?"

  "I thought it would be more amusing and useful if you found out the truth for yourself," he explained. "And I taught you a valuable lesson."

  "What's that?" I questioned him.

  His smile slid off his face and his voice was firm. "That you shouldn't turn your back on a person unless you're sure they're dead. Permanently."

  I threw my hands up in the air. "Fine, you're not dead and you're not alive. I admit that. Happy?"

  He covered his mouth to hide a yawn. "No. You interrupted my rest, and I'll ask that you not do it again. Your bedroom is across the hall, and as I said before there's food in the fridge. Now I'll bid you good day and we'll resume our discussion after night fall." He grabbed the lid and shut it over himself.

  I shook my head and sighed. "You're in deep shit. . ."

  "How very true, Detective," came Quinn's muffled voice from the coffin.

  I left the room and made sure to give the door a good bang shut on my way out. The force shook the wall, and Quinn yelled something that didn't get through the door but what I understand as a four-letter word with my name attached. I grinned and moved to the room on the opposite side of the hall. It was a normal bedroom with a normal bed.

  I sat down on the foot and fell back onto the bed. The white ceiling stared back at me, and I sighed.

  "What I wouldn't give to go to sleep and wake up at my apartment. . ." I whispered.

  Wishful thinking wasn't going to get me anywhere, so I tucked my legs onto the bed and closed my eyes.

  My nocturnal habits guaranteed I slept, and it wasn't until an hour before sunset that I woke up. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. One glance out the window gave me a good estimate of the time, and the clock on the nightstand confirmed it. I sat up in my wrinkled clothes and stretched. One of my hands got caught in the tangle of mess. That hadn't changed since last night, and I guessed I was stuck with it, at least until I got this curse off me.

  I found the bathroom down the hall and one of Quinn's combs. In a few minutes I was brushed and a little more awake. Armed with my newfound wakefulness, I glanced down he hall at Quinn's room. I walked down the hall and knocked on the door.

  "You still dead?" I called.

  "No," was the reply.

  I opened the door a crack and peeked my head inside. The coffin lid was still shut. "So are you going to tell me what I'm supposed to do tonight or what?"

  "You can wait an hour, Detective," he scolded me.

  "Sun allergy?" I guessed.

  "Something of the sort," he agreed.

  I closed the door and my stomach gurgled. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten, so I took up Quinn's offer and raided his fridge. He had a mix of the weird and normal. Milk sat beside blood bags, and there was even a chocolate cake and some vegetables. The vegetables survived my raid, but the chocolate cake wasn't so lucky.

  Quinn stumbled into the kitchen and caught me nibbling on the last bites at the kitchen table. His pale face was as white as a sheet and he moved with the agility of an old man.

  "I've been livelier cadavers," I quipped as he shuffled towards the bridge.

  He grabbed one of the blood bags and popped it open. The contents were downed faster than a tackled suspect. He dropped the bag into the trash and took a seat opposite me looking a little livelier than before.

  "That your addiction?" I guessed.

  "My morning coffee," he rephrased.

  "Uh-huh. So are you still wanting me to go through with this party or do we have a different deal?" I asked him.

  He smiled. "The deal is still on, Detective."

  I leaned back and opened my arms. "Then I hope you've got some plans for my clothes because I don't think these ragged things are going to cut it."

  "I might have something in my closet," he replied. "Come with me."

  CHAPTER 27

  Quinn led me upstairs to the bedroom he'd given me. He slid open the closet door and revealed a pretty wide assortment of elegant evening gowns. I stood beside him and turned to him.

  "You swing that way?" I asked him.

  He smiled and shook his head. "These are treasures from those women I particularly admired." Quinn took out a slinky red dress with a plunging back and neckline. Two stringy straps kept the dress from falling off its hanger. "This was from a very lovely young lady some years ago. She had an intriguing sense of fashion."

  "And a poor taste in men," I quipped.

  "That's why our relationship was short," he assured me.

  My eyes scanned all the different sizes, styles, and ages. "These better not be treasures from your victims."

  "I assure you they were all alive. When I left them, that is," he told me. He held the thin dress out to me. "Care to try it on?"

  I looked from the dress to him. "You've got to be kidding. I've seen more clothing on a tissue."

  "And you'll see less at the ball, but this might leave you the talk of the party," he told me.

  I frowned, but snatched the hanger from his hand. "I'm supposed to blend in, remember?"

  "You'll blend in just fine until you open your mouth," he quipped.

  I glared at him. "What the hell is that-" He pointed down at my hands.

  "That."

  I followed his finger and my shoulders slumped. My hands were back to hairy paws.

  "You have to learn to control your temper, Detective," he advised me.

  "Maybe if I didn't feel like slugging the company," I retorted.

  "Then I recommend you not talk to anybody and get the job done as quickly as possible," he suggested.

  I pursed my lips and jerked my thumb towards the door. "Out."

  "I could help you on with-"

  "Out."

  He held up his hands and skirte
d around me. "All right. Come out when you're ready."

  He slipped out into the hall and I slipped into the dress, if you could call it that. The flimsy piece of cloth was as near to naked as I wanted to get without being in bed with Shadow.

  I paused and frowned. "Seriously? You have to think about him right now. . ." I mumbled to myself.

  "Problems?" Quinn called through the door.

  "Plenty, and they'd be solved if you just gave me that disk," I returned.

  "Not yet, Detective. You still have that small errand to do for me," he scolded me.

  I sighed and completed the dress by finding some shoes at the bottom of the closet. They were heels, but by the grace of my new wolf agility I managed to walk in them. I opened the door and stepped out into the hall. Quinn leaned against the opposite wall, but he stood at attention and his eyes swept over my body. I blushed and crossed my arms over my chest.

  "Not bad, Detective," he complimented me.

  "Say another word and I'll rip out your tongue while you're sleeping," I growled.

  He held up his hands. "I was merely admiring your feminine assets."

  "And I'm going to kick yours from here to the Pacific for making me do this," I snapped.

  "You're getting ahead of yourself, Detective," he scolded me. He pulled out the house plans and handed them to me. "This job won't be easy, and to be honest I half expect you to get caught."

  "If I do I'll put in a good word for you," I promised as I tucked the folded paper into my cleavage. There wasn't enough cloth anywhere else in the dress to hide a mouse.

  "I imagine you will, but my other half says you'll get out of trouble. You always do," he pointed out.

  "There's a first time for everything, but how about we skip the small talk and get this over with?" I recommended.

  "As you wish," he obeyed.

  Quinn led me downstairs and into the free-standing garage in the backyard. He opened the door and flipped on a light. The bulb overhead revealed a red convertible with black interior leather and a shine that hurt my eyes.

  "Your weekend car?" I guessed.

  "Strictly for business," he assured me.

  We hopped in with Quinn at the wheel and backed out. He drove us down the suburban roads and to the more upscale neighborhoods where the lawns were larger than most apartment buildings. Stone walls encased grand mansions in tight security, and more than one gate sported a guardhouse.

  I couldn't make out any details. The world sped by like a zoom blur on a camera. I held my hair down with one hand and gripped the top of the door with the other.

  "You have a death wish?" I yelled at Quinn over the whistling wind.

  "No, but I do have this immunity to it," he called back.

  "I don't, so do you mind slowing down?" I snapped.

  "Certainly, especially as we're here," he told me.

  Quinn slowed down and I noticed a line of cars at the open gates to a stone-and-wood castle. The vehicles were in the same class and price range as Quinn's, and sported people in dresses like mine. Quinn pulled into the lineup and we drove through the gates. A row of tall oaks led the way up a short hill to the castle. The house itself had three floors and a few towers. The stone walls were smoothly carved and shone in the bright blaze of lights that lit up the front entrance. People parked their cars and walked up the short path to the open pair of wooden doors. Valets took their vehicles to a large gravel parking lot fifty yards left of the house.

  "What now?" I asked Quinn.

  "We'll drive to the parking garage and you'll make your way to the house," he whispered to me as we passed the front doors and drove towards the garage. "I'll wait for you there while you find a way inside, grab the vial, and make your way out."

  "Is that all? And here I thought it was going to be hard," I quipped.

  "Don't underestimate these people, Detective," he warned me. He nodded at a few large men in black suits who stood in the shadows of the house. "They and three dozen others like them are who you need to watch out for."

  "How the hell am I supposed to get even ten feet with that many guys around?" I snapped at him.

  "Your new abilities are more powerful than you know. Use them," he advised.

  We drove into the parking lot and found a spot at the far right close to the house. The garage itself

  Quinn shut off the engine and turned to me. "It's show time, Detective."

  I climbed out and glared at him. "If I get out of this alive I'm kicking your balls all the way down to the police station."

  "If you get out of this alive I will gladly agree to your request," he quipped.

  I turned my back on the car and hurried along the dimly lit parking spaces. A few temporary electric lamp posts were positioned between the cars and cast long shadows over the gravel. I weaved in and out of the vehicles and ended at the far end of the lot close to the house. There was twenty yards between me and some short bushes that surrounded the house. I also had to contend with a small, private army of men-in-black with headsets in their ears and dark glasses over their eyes. They marched to and fro in a pattern that didn't offer any holes. I'd have to pull off some epic Matrix shit if I wanted to get past them.

  Fortunately, I had some epic Matrix shit in me, and I was a cop. This stakeout wasn't new to me, but being on the other side of the law was. There were a couple of oak trees that grew a little too close to the house, and a small ventilation window on the roof that looked a little neglected.

  I lowered myself onto my hands and knees and crawled across the damp lawn. The point of my high heels stabbed into the grass and left little dents in the otherwise spotless carpet. I reached the closest oak tree five yards from me and ten yards from my target.

  The bark was smooth, but that wasn't going to be a problem. I held out my hands and concentrated. Long fingernails and claws emerged, and soon I had my only permanently attached climbing claws. I jabbed my fingernails into the soft bark and began my ascent into the thick foliage. In a few moments the lowest branch was reached, and I leapt up until I was even with the lowest part of the roof. The roof was made of shingles and slanted at a thirty-five degree angle.

  I crawled across the thickest, longest branch, and paused at the point where my body weight would have meant a hard crack with a harder fall. I hunkered down and glanced between my legs. The ground was fifteen yards below me, and so were the men in black. I crept a little closer to the house. My hand brushed against a small, dry twig that snapped and fell. I tried to snatch it, but the twig fell between my claws and dropped to the ground. The twig hit the grass just behind one of the guards. He didn't notice a thing.

  I took a deep breath and looked at the roof. It was ten feet away, but I couldn't risk another mistake like that. I stood and took my heels in my hands. I backed up, steadied myself, and sprinted forward. My instincts told me when to jump, and I sprang forward at the point where the branch became pencil thin. I flew through the air with the heels flailing in my hands and landed with a soft thud on the tiled roof.

  I stiffened and listened for the men beneath me to yell out some alarm. It never came. My sensitive ears picked up on their scheduled march. I quickly crawled up to the ventilation cover and used a claw to screw the cover loose. In a few moments I slipped into the attic.

  I'd made it inside, but the fun wasn't over.

  CHAPTER 28

  My new and improved eyes let me see in the near-black out conditions. The attic had a low, open-rafter ceiling and was filled with the usual attic stuff. Old, three-hundred year old furniture, priceless works of art worth more than the entire yearly city budget, a small forest of mannequins that sported ancient dresses, and piles of boxes that sported names like Ferrari Parts and Heirloom Jewelry. Just the usual junk.

  There was a hatch in the floor at the front end of the attic. I tiptoed along the attic and over to the hatch. The dust underfoot told me none of the black men would be up here, and they needed to hire some better cleaners.

  I reached the hatch
and slipped my claws underneath the thin board. A quick tug told me why the cleaners didn't get up here. It was locked, and from the other side. My eyes caught on the hinges of the hatch, and I tiptoed around to them. I raised my clawed hands and pursed my lips.

  "Don't fail me now. . ." I whispered.

  I wedged my fingers into the space between the hatch and the floor at the center of the back of the hatch. The boards were thick and I anchored my feet beneath me. I narrowed my eyes and, with a single tug, tore the hatch and its hinges out of the floor. The destruction made a minor ripping noise that made me cringe.

  My sensitive ears caught a voice and some fast-moving footsteps. I quickly put the hatch down and stepped away from the hole. The footsteps stopped beneath the hatch and I caught a man's voice.

  "The sound came from here," he commented. There was a pause. "Yes, I see it. I'll check it out."

  My heart thumped in my chest and I looked around for some place to hide. A mannequin close by gave me an idea, and I hurried to my plan.

  I was prepared when the hatch creaked open and a man with dark shades peeked into the attic. He was a little surprised when the back of the hatch popped off the floor. The guard stepped into the attic and held the broken hatch in one hand.

  "I think we might have a problem," he whispered into his receiver.

  "Take care of it," I heard a muffled voice respond.

  "Yes, sir," the guard replied.

  He set the hatch onto the floor and pulled off his glasses. His eyes were a bright yellow, and it didn't take a forensic genius to guess he was a werewolf. He scanned the attic and slowly made his way through the closest mess of stuff. I held my breath as he came closer to my hiding spot.

  The guard reached the spot where I hid and froze. His lips curled back in a snarl as he caught my scent, and he lunged at my red, clean dress that stood out among the other old garb. He wrapped his arms around the flimsy clothing and squeezed the body tight in his grasp

  "Stay where you-" His order was interrupted when the mannequin's head popped off and dropped to the floor at his feet.