Page 25 of Crimson Moon Falling

Chapter 8

Riley

The next afternoon we headed back to Alpine to meet Zaria and finish searching Viggo’s cabin. I’d set up an appointment with the witch a few hours after we left the café, but when I texted her to confirm, she didn’t respond. I hoped she hadn’t forgotten.

Gunnar typed on his iPad as Ash drove. The thing looked tiny in his dinner-plate-sized hands. “We need to find out what’s at this GPS location.”

I nodded. “Whatever happened to my dad seems to be connected to Viggo’s disappearance. And based on what Beau thinks, the government may be tracking and eliminating people who know about these places.”

“Your dad wrote in his journal that the Rocky Mountain ‘site’ was ‘going active.’ Maybe whoever’s behind this is activating the Yellowstone site now.”

I gazed out at the mountain range, wondering what secrets they held. Ash turned onto the unpaved road leading to Viggo’s property, slowed down, and studied the line of cattle skulls marking the boundary. “Why does a retired park ranger think he needs so much protection?”

I studied the forbidding entrance. “At first, I thought he hung them to intimidate trespassers and visitors.”

Ash stared up at the skulls. “This is a protective ward. In my tribe, we regard animal remains, especially skulls, as a link to the other world and an effective way to ward off bad spirits.”

“Do you think that’s why he has them?”

He didn’t answer. Ash’s Empath power brushed the perimeter of the property. “Something isn’t right. If it’s a protective barrier, it’s been breached.”

The cabin came into view, looking much as it had before. But the dark pine forest behind it looked menacing, and the cabin’s aura felt tattered and frayed, as if hanging in shreds like cobwebs after a storm.

Ash parked the SUV and glanced at Conall. “I don’t sense anyone around, but I smell something. What about you?”

“They could be masking their presence.” Conall’s nostrils flared as he scanned the tree line.

When we stepped out, I noticed the front door hung slightly ajar, and one of the symbol-etched windows was shattered. The tree growing through the center of the house seemed to droop, its leaves curled as if in distress.

Conall froze, and a low growl rumbled from his chest. “I smell blood.”

Gunnar’s hand moved to his sidearm. “Human?”

“Yes, and something else.” Conall’s eyes began to shift from gray to gold as his wolf rose closer to the surface.

Ash stilled. “Blood… and death.”

I walked up the steps behind them, and at first, I sensed nothing. Then a faintly coppery, rotten scent hit me, mixed with something sharp. The coldness inside registered the smells clinically. Blood, human tissue, urine. The unmistakable constellation of violent death.

“Stay behind me,” Conall ordered, his voice dropping an octave as his wolf pushed forward.

Ash stepped forward, his own weapon drawn. “We need to clear the cabin.”

The implant sent a sharp chill through me, transforming fear and revulsion into analytical detachment.

“The scent is strongest in that stand of trees.” Conall’s eyes glowed yellow as Ash nodded.

“I’ll check behind the cabin, and–”

“No,” I interrupted. “We stick together… At least in pairs.” Even with the coldness, my mind rebelled at us splitting up. Conall didn’t argue.

“Gunnar and I will check the cabin. Zaria told us there are wards, and we didn’t trigger them last time.”

Ash nodded, and Conall grasped my arm. “If you sense anyone inside, you get out and scream loud.”

Gunnar and I slipped inside the cabin together. I held my gun steady in a two-handed grip as I pushed my energy out, searching for anyone hiding in the small structure. I shook my head at Gunnar, and we silently and quickly cleared the cabin, then headed back outside.

As we approached the grove of trees, the scents of burnt herbs, sulfur, and sharp chemicals intensified. Energy signatures collided and clashed around us. Viggo’s protective wards, Zaria’s magic, and dark, greasy signatures I hadn’t felt since Roswell. The implant buzzed in cruel recognition.