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    Beneath a Rising Moon

    Page 8
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    that time watching old—.”

      “So, what is it you’ve come here for?” Her dad ignored

      her mother’s reproachful look and continued to glare at

      Duncan.

      Duncan hesitated and glanced at Neva. Just for a

      moment, indecision touched his eyes. Then the shutters

      flashed back up, and her stomach began to churn painfully.

      “There’s an awards dinner next Saturday I have to

      attend. I’ve asked Neva to come back with me tonight and

      attend the dinner with me on Saturday.”

      Her dad didn’t move, didn’t blink. “And just where

      would she be staying?”

      “With me.”

      She closed her eyes. The shit had just hit the fan.

      Her mom laughed nervously. “In her own room, of

      course.”

      “No,” Duncan breathed softly.

      You couldn’t even leave me that glimmer of respect, could

      you? She looked at him bitterly. Just what in hell have I

      done to you to deserve this sort of treatment?

      You’re a smart woman. You figure it out. His thoughts

      were as angry as hers. I’m sure it won’t be that hard.

      She stared at him. What on earth was he talking about?

      They’d never met before last night and, realistically, she

      was the only one who had the right to be angry. He was

      the one who had taken without giving. Who was still taking.

      You could have said we were staying in separate rooms.

      It wouldn’t have hurt.

      I could have said we were going to the mansion and the

      dance tonight, too. Don’t push, Neva.

      Don’t push? What a laugh. Pushing was all he was

      doing. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then turned

      to face the storm brewing on the other side of the room. It

      was a storm that would probably have happened

      eventually, but one she hadn’t been prepared to face

      tonight. Certainly not with this man by her side.

      “I absolutely forbid it,” her mother said, voice flat.

      “You can’t forbid anything anymore,” Neva replied. “I

      grew up a long time ago, Mother. Accept that fact and stop

      trying to control my life.” Her words held a touch of

      bitterness that surprised them both.

      Duncan squeezed her hand as if in encouragement.

      She wanted to rip her fingers free of his and smack him in

      the mouth, but she didn’t, simply because she needed this

      charade to continue if she was to have any hope of her

      parents ever speaking to her again. Lord, if they found out

      her true destination was the dance at the mansion...

      “And what of your sister?” her dad asked softly.

      She raised her gaze to his. “She’ll understand.” But

      she wouldn’t. Not this. But at least she’d be close enough

      to see Savannah, or talk to her telepathically when she

      did wake. “You’re in charge of the Future’s Committee,

      Dad. Like it or not, this is part of that future. It’s not a sin

      to enjoy yourself before marriage.” And as Ari was prone

      to saying, who bought a car without test driving it?

      Not that she was buying anything but four days of

      misery and frustration.

      Her dad didn’t say anything, just walked out of the

      room. And that hurt deeper than anything she could have

      ever imagined. She blinked back the sting of tears and

      glanced at her mom.

      “Please understand—”

      “The only thing I understand,” her mother cut in

      sharply, “is that you’ve decided to turn your back on

      everything we’ve taught you over the years.” She thrust to

      her feet, a thin, disapproving figure. “I think you’d both

      better leave until your father and I calm down a little.”

      Neva stared at her for a moment, wondering if it were

      possible to hate anyone as much as she did Duncan right

      at that moment. Then she rose, gathered her handbag and

      that stupid parcel, and left.

      The night air hit like a slap across the face. She took a

      deep breath, but the shuddering had begun and wouldn’t

      stop.

      She leaned her back against the wall of the diner, closed

      her eyes, hugged her arms across her body, and silently

      cried. For the loss of her parents’ respect. For her own

      stupidity in ever thinking she could calmly waltz into the

      Sinclair mansion and come away unscathed.

      For the fact that she still wanted Duncan more than

      she’d wanted any other man in her life, no matter how

      much she hated him.

      The moon certainly had a lot to answer for.

      He stopped in front of her, a warm but forbidding

      presence. She didn’t look at him, didn’t say anything to

      him. Nothing she said seemed to make one bit of difference

      to whatever his agenda was anyway, so why bother?

      “Neva—” he began eventually, voice soft but still

      emotionless.

      Just for a moment she had the distinct impression he

      was controlling himself very tightly, and it was an

      impression that made no sense at all. Maybe her psychic

      senses were as rattled as the rest of her.

      “Don’t,” she said, voice harsh. “You’ve made it very

      clear you have no respect for me, and no respect for the

      way I’m trying to live my life.”

      “It’s a little hard for me to show any respect when you

      show so little damn respect for yourself,” he all but

      exploded.

      His fury charged the air between them. She scrubbed

      the tears away with the sleeve of her sweater, then opened

      her eyes. He stood three feet away, a barely visible shadow

      against the blanket of night. A man with the face of an

      angel and the heart of a stone devil.

      Though his stance appeared casual, the hands he had

      thrust into his pockets appeared clenched. It was the only

      visible sign of the angry tension she could almost taste.

      “I have my reasons for attending the dance last

      night—”

      “Of that I have no doubt.”

      She clenched her fists. “How dare you judge me, when

      your own actions over the last twenty-four hours are no

      more worthy of respect than mine.”

      “I have my reasons,” he echoed, voice bitter.

      “And what makes you think those reasons are any more

      noble than mine?”

      “So why did you join the dance last night? If your

      reasons are so damn honorable, you have nothing to fear

      in telling me, have you?”

      She was tempted, so very tempted, to tell him. But if

      he was treating her like this now, what would he do when

      he discovered she’d deliberately set out to seduce him,

      that she’d only intended to use him to gain entry into the

      mansion?

      “You’re destroying my life,” she said softly. “And all

      I’ve done to you is agree to share a dance for the length of

      this moon cycle. Does that equation seem equal to you?”

      She didn’t wait for his answer, just pushed away from

      the wall and walked off.

      Duncan took a deep breath and released it slowly. He

      let her walk away, a slender, angry, and very hurt shadow.

      It felt as if someone had rea
    ched into his chest and

      squeezed his heart tight. He could barely breathe under

      the crushing weight of her pain.

      Of course, she was right. What he was doing to her

      wasn’t entirely fair. Did the crime of keeping an eye on

      him befit the punishment of destroying her life? Hardly.

      And what if she didn’t know the reasons behind the

      watch? What if she’d been spun some tale that made her

      believe she was doing the right thing? Given his wild past,

      any lie would be more than half-believable to those who

      didn’t know him.

      He took another deep, calming breath and thrust the

      uncertainty away. He needed to find this killer. Fast.

      Needed to get away from the mansion and its environs, get

      back to the real world of his new life. A life he’d spent the

      past ten years building.

      Problem was, he had no real clues as to the killer’s

      identity, and four women had already lost their lives. If

      destroying Neva emotionally was the fastest way to find

      and stop this killer, then he had no real choice in the

      matter. Neva could rebuild her life. The women whose blood

      had been shed under the moon certainly couldn’t.

      These next four days were certainly going to be

      bittersweet. He might have her physically, but by the time

      he’d finished with her, she would truly hate him. And he

      had a suspicion he might well regret that.

      Which would just be another item on an already too

      long list, he thought bitterly.

      ***

      Neva threw the parcel into the trash can, then stormed

      into her house and went straight to the cabinet that held

      the few bottles of alcohol she had. She poured herself a

      large glass of whisky and drank it in one long gulp.

      The liquid burned all the way down, settling like a

      weight in her agitated stomach. And though it gave her a

      head rush, it certainly didn’t make her feel any better about

      herself or the situation she’d so stupidly put herself into.

      Got what I deserved for sticking my tail in places it had

      no right to be, she thought bitterly. And yet, at the same

      time, she very much suspected she’d have reacted the same

      way even if she had known what would happen. Savannah

      was her twin. She couldn’t just sit around and do nothing.

      Besides, she had no doubt Savannah would have reacted

      the exact same way—though she probably would have

      picked a better method of entry into the mansion than the

      moon dance. It was just the quickest and easiest way...or

      so Neva had thought.

      She sighed and rubbed her temples. What was done

      was done. Maybe once all this was over, she could try to

      talk to her parents. Explain. Or maybe Savannah would.

      She’d undoubtedly disappointed them. She understood

      that, but deep down, she was still the child they’d raised.

      She walked into the kitchen and reached for the

      telephone, dialing Ari’s cell phone.

      “Y’ello,” her friend said almost immediately.

      “Sorry to interfere with your date,” she said. “But I

      have a favor to ask.”

      “Hey, no probs. Honey buns has gone to the bar to get

      us a drink. What’s the favor?”

      Ari’s exuberant tone made Neva smile. At least she

      was enjoying herself tonight. “Do you think you could call

      that friend of yours and see if she’s still interested in

      working at the diner? I need a fill-in for the next few days.”

      “Wow, that coffee spilling trick really did work, didn’t

      it?”

      If only. “Yeah, it worked.”

      “Cool.” She hesitated. “You told the folks yet?”

      “Oh yeah.” Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them

      away. The deed had been done, and there was nothing she

      could do, or say, to take back the hurt. She could only

      hope they’d see past this sometime in the future. “The

      ‘Sounds of Silence’ is the only tune I’ll be hearing from

      them for a while.”

      Ari snorted. “They’ll get over it. And you’ve played the

      dutiful daughter long enough. Go screw that beautiful

      man’s brains out and enjoy yourself for a change.”

      “That’s the plan.” And somewhere deep down, some

      small part of her half-wished it was. But in one way or

      another, she had a feeling the frustration of the last twelve

      hours would continue.

      “So, where is he taking you?” Ari asked. “Somewhere

      wild and wicked, I hope.”

      If she told Ari just how wild and wicked, her friend

      would faint. Ari enjoyed the dance as much as the next

      wolf, but even she refused to go as far as those at the

      mansion.

      “He has some awards dinner on Saturday.” It was better

      to continue the lie already told, especially since Ari would

      more than likely give her dad a piece of her mind at the

      diner tomorrow. Her friend certainly didn’t believe in

      holding back feelings or thoughts, and she’d clashed with

      Neva’s dad more than once over the years. “I’m staying

      with him until then.”

      “An awards dinner? Sounds boring.”

      “But he’s not.” And wasn’t that the truth.

      “Woohoo!” Ari’s excited bellow echoed down the line.

      Neva winced and pulled the phone away from her ear as

      Ari continued, “The deed has been done. Was he good?”

      “A master.” At manipulating. At ruining her

      relationship with her parents for no justifiable reason. At

      leaving her so totally frustrated she thought she’d burst.

      At giving her a glimpse of the stars, then snatching it

      away again.

      And the fact that her mind placed the most emphasis

      on those last two only proved how rattled she was.

      “Then I expect to see you in a week with the biggest

      smile on your face. And I want details.”

      “Only if you buy the coffee. I may not have a job when

      I get back.”

      “They can’t fire you. Who else would they find to work

      the sort of hours you do for crap pay?”

      She had a point. “I’ll talk to you next week.”

      “Take care of yourself, sweetie,” Ari trilled and

      disconnected.

      Neva placed the phone back on the receiver and stood

      staring out at the dark expanse of her back garden. Duncan

      hadn’t followed her into the house yet, and while she had

      no doubt he would soon appear, she was extremely glad

      for the breathing space.

      She closed her eyes and reached for the warmth of her

      sister’s mind, as she had in the past when in trouble. But

      there was no response, other than a slight stirring in the

      cloud of memories. Consciousness was drawing closer, but

      it could be several days yet before it happened.

      She bit her lip and resolutely turned away from the

      window and made her way upstairs to her bedroom. She

      packed a bag with enough clothes to last four days then

      studied her wardrobe for something to wear to his stupid

      costume party tonight. She flicked through her dresses

      and eventually pulled out the elegant blac
    k dress she’d

      bought two years ago when Ari and she had gone on a

      somewhat drunken shopping spree in Denver.

      It was form fitting, plunging past her breasts in the

      front, and to the base of her spine at the back. The skirt

      was full and swirled around her toes, but the four panels

      were split right up to the top of her thighs, so that when

      she walked she flashed a lot of leg. The hem of the skirt

      was beaded, the tiny drops of color forming gentle flames

      that shimmered like the real thing with every movement.

      Match it with that stupid mask she’d worn last night,

      and she might just pass as a she-devil. Which was only

      fitting, given her partner.

      She found a matching pair of high heels, then picked

      everything up and took the lot downstairs. Duncan still

      hadn’t appeared and hope flickered briefly. Maybe he’d

      given up his whole sordid game—whatever it was. Maybe

      he was so overcome by remorse that he’d decided to just

      walk away.

      Maybe tomorrow the Earth would stop spinning.

      She rubbed her forehead. A large glass of whisky on

      top of an agitated but basically empty stomach had not

      been one of her better ideas. She stretched out on the sofa

      and closed her eyes. The temporary darkness felt like

      heaven to her aching head.

      She wouldn’t sleep, just close her eyes and rest a little.

      ***

      Duncan glanced at his watch as he walked up the path

      to Neva’s front door. It was nearly eight. He’d spent almost

      an hour on the phone, covering his one lie should Neva’s

      parents call to check. Once Dave, his boss and good friend,

      had known the reasons behind Duncan’s lie, he’d had no

      hesitation in playing along. He’d even offered use of his

      contacts in the sheriff’s department. And Duncan had no

      doubt he’d need them before this week was out.

      He took the steps two at a time and knocked lightly on

      the front door. There was no answer, though he knew she

      was home. The warm scent of citrus swirled around him,

      a warmer, more alluring scent than jasmine, and one that

      suited her better. Heat surged through his body, though

      after this afternoon’s efforts, it certainly didn’t take much

      to get him aroused.

      He twisted the handle and the door opened. Light shone

      softly in the kitchen, and a travel case waited near the

      door, along with a pair of shoes and a long black dress.

     


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