Page 49 of Crimson Moon Falling

Riley still had some heart damage and those peculiar, round burn scars from the electroshock pads as souvenirs from her test. He wished he could kill that fucking bastard who’d tortured her all over again.

They sat quietly for several moments, and Conall sighed. “They’re good at desensitizing the public to their atrocities, and instead of forming a goddamn united front, we’re guessing which Alpha is taking bribes.”

“How bad is Riley’s implant?” Sawyer asked.

The question landed like a sucker punch, and Conall took another sip of whiskey. “The thing is organic and now enmeshed in her brain stem, so it’s never coming out. She’s on a case now that seems to tie into Roswell. She ran into Marlowe and some of his operatives in Yellowstone.” He told Sawyer what had happened.

Sawyer leaned forward. “Jesus, are they alright?”

Just thinking about them there, with him stuck in Washington D.C., made him almost feral. “Gunnar’s still in the hospital, and Jamie could lose his eye.”

“Tell me they got the Commander.”

Conall shook his head. “They took out several operatives, but not Marlowe. It gets worse. He has an implant, and somehow that psychotic bastard now reads as a high-level Compulsor. Marlowe commanded Riley to come to him. Her foot moved before she could stop it.”

Sawyer stared, his drink suspended in midair. “That’s not possible.”

“Tell that to Marlowe. The man had himself cut open and altered. Who knows how long he’s been experimenting on himself.”

Sawyer stood and stripped off his suit coat and tie. “It never fucking ends. Just when I think Apex and this corrupt fucking government can’t shock me, they find a new way to do it.”

Conall took a healthy swallow and let the alcohol burn down his throat. “Riley believes it has something to do with her father’s disappearance, and Marlowe was in the same general area. It’s not a coincidence.”

“So whatever’s out there—”

Conall rubbed his eyes. “Is worth killing for. Viggo disappeared, his witch friend was tortured and killed, and Langston tried to forcibly take Riley.”

Ash leaned forward. “Riley can manipulate enough voltage to take down anyone who gets in her way.”

Conall stood and paced back to the window. The bond between them had been fluctuating for days, a distant hum that sometimes flared with warmth and then went cold for hours. He’d felt her fear during the ambush, a jagged, white-hot spike that nearly dropped him to his knees in the middle of a strategy session. And then nothing. His wolf was ready to revolt.

“We need to get the Alphas in line and wrap this up,” Sawyer murmured as he rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt. A knock sounded on the door, and Sawyer’s eyebrow rose. “Are you expecting company?”

“No. Maybe it’s Hudson again.” Conall crossed the room and opened the door. Two female shifters stood outside, wearing nightclub dresses and expensive perfume.

The taller, statuesque woman had the build of a 1950s pinup model. Her short, blue silk dress hugged her curves, and her blond hair fell in waves down her back. She wore diamond studs and thick gold necklaces.

Beside her stood a younger woman with long, wavy brown hair framing a heart-shaped face. Her red dress plunged in front, and her black stiletto fuck-me shoes were at least five inches tall.

Conall’s wolf snarled his dislike. The well-dressed women reminded his beast of Anna.

“Alpha Segerson.” The blond woman smiled up at him. “I’m Elena Mercer, a Beta in the Northeastern States Pack. And this is Ashley Kovac.”

Conall had heard of Elena. She was educated, fought well, and was rumored to be smart. Why would the Northeastern Alpha send him one of his best Betas?

The younger shifter smiled at him, her teeth white against her full, red lips. “Alpha Christopherson asked us to ensure your stay in the capital is pleasurable. Our Alpha thought you gentlemen might appreciate some companionship during the Council sessions.”

Elena nodded. “Someone to help you relax after a long day of negotiations.”

The wolf in him bared its teeth as Sawyer rose from his chair and strode to the minibar, his energy sharp with cynical amusement. Conall could smell it on him—the bastard was enjoying this.

“Alpha Christopherson is very thoughtful,” Elena continued, stepping into the suite without being invited, her hips swaying seductively. “We’re here to provide any services that might make your stay more enjoyable.”

Ashley followed, her dark eyes sweeping the three shifters. “We’re shifters, Alpha. We can take rough handling well.” Her voice dropped. “However you like it.”

His wolf wanted to rip her goddamned throat out. Conall kept his expression flat, but something cold and dangerous uncoiled in his chest. His bond with Riley hummed. He missed her. Missed her sweet pine scent, the way her blue eyes narrowed when she concentrated, and the way she pressed her forehead against his chest when she was tired.

Here stood a couple of Christopherson’s female shifters, being pimped out like party favors. Disgust roiled in his gut.