Retribution (Moonstruck Genesis #4)

Chapter 7

SHE PULLED back the cheap plastic shower curtain and peeked into the bathroom. The mirror had fogged over, but the small room was unoccupied except for her. She carefully stepped out, her whole body screaming from the cuts and bruises she’d collected. A stack of towels was neatly folded on the toilet. She wrapped one around her head and another around her torso after drying off.

Creeping to the door, she pressed her ear against it and listened. Nothing. She cracked it open but couldn’t see much. While the bath was a separate room, the rest of the cabin was open—living, sleeping, and eating space all together. She opened the door wider and peeked around it. The man—Antoine—was absent. He’d left jeans and a T-shirt laid out on the bed. She darted over, snatched the clothes, including a pair of cotton boxers, and dashed back into the bathroom.

Dressed and feeling braver, she stepped back into the room. Still no Antoine. She walked carefully to the front door, fully aware of the cuts and bruises on her feet. No one was on the front porch. She slipped outside and circled the little cabin. No one. But no vehicle either. Breathing around the sense of panic threatening to overwhelm her, she considered her options.

Antoine had not hurt her. Yet. And wasn’t that always the operative word. One part of her craved him like an addict wanted crack. And that scared her. Deeply. Her sense of self-preservation told her to run. Even if she got lost in the bayous, she would still be free. If she stayed here, she knew without a doubt she’d never be free again. She didn’t like the hold Antoine had over her emotions, or her body.

Without stopping to consider her actions, she fled back down the path she’d followed earlier. There had been other trails off it. She’d pick one and keep running until she couldn’t run any further. Behind her, something howled. The sound, wild and primal, sent spikes of adrenaline surging. She put her head down and ran harder. Prey. She was prey and something big and bad was hunting her. If it caught her, she’d be…no more.

ANTOINE ENTERED the clearing just as the woman launched off his porch and darted into the woods. The look of panic on her face cut straight to his soul. What had happened? He’d only been gone a few minutes, checking the perimeter of his territory for trespassers. He stripped out of his clothes and changed on the fly. He barely noted the pain and twisting of bones and muscles as he howled in frustration.

She would not get far, but man and wolf both cringed. Something could happen to her. She could injure herself again or worse, more men would find her. He howled again at that thought. No man would touch her. She was his. And she would come to understand that eventually.

He loped after her, his nose twitching at the scent of her blood. The wounds on her feet were bleeding again. This time, he howled in anger. How dare his mate put herself in danger like this? How could she hurt herself in this way?

“WHO WAS that?” Mac held up his hand and the other three men halted behind him.

“Wasn’t Danny or Rudy.” When they were in human form, Lightfoot had the best sense of which Wolf owned a howl. “Antoine, I think.”

They exchanged uneasy glances.

“The marshal’s scent overlays his.” Nate stared at Mac. “And there’s blood.”

“I know.”

“He wouldn’t hurt her.” Sean didn’t sound as sure as he wanted to.

Mac continued forward. “This is the way to his cabin. Unless one of us picks up a different trail, we’ll head there.”

They picked up the pace again, jogging two abreast. They followed the path toward a blind bend. Mac was half a step ahead of Sean when a woman barreled around the corner and slammed into him. The force knocked her on her butt and winded Mac. Sean knelt beside her, but she came up fighting.

“Whoa there, sugar.” Sean leaned back to keep his face from getting raked by her jagged nails. Her hair was tangled and wet, her eyes wide with panic, and she made strangled noises in her throat as she struggled. He reached for her again but stopped and held dead still when a menacing growl split the air.

The wolf didn’t like these men gathered around his mate. She should smell like him, not them. They had their own women. He snarled and stalked toward them stiff-legged. The woman was his.

She screamed when she saw him and scooted backwards until she pressed against Mac’s legs. He didn’t like that at all. The alpha had a mate and a pup. He didn’t need more. This woman was his. His ruff bristled as he came closer.

“Mac? What do you want to do?” Sean hadn’t moved, remaining crouched between the woman, Mac, and Antoine.

Nate eased up beside Mac. “ Déja vu , Mac. If I’m not mistaken, Antoine’s decided she’s his mate. He won’t hurt her, but us?”

Sean’s wry chuckle sounded like dry leaves in a stiff breeze. “Okay, jarhead. You’ve been as feral as our friend there. You talk to him.”

“Ease back.”

“I will, but she’s hurt. I need to look at her.”

“I know that, Sean. Just not right now. Move away.” Nate had been a Marine captain. While he often deferred to Mac’s authority as pack alpha, his voice could still crackle with command. He managed three steps forward before Antoine’s growl stopped him. “Antoine, we need you to change back. Your woman is hurt. She needs you. Let us carry her to your cabin. You can change. Lightfoot will go get Hannah and Jacey. They’ll help Sean. Okay?”

Antoine whined. Nate took that as a positive sign until the wolf lunged toward Mac, who took a few quick steps backward, leaving the woman sitting alone in the middle of the trail. The wolf paced to her and circled her, keeping the men away.

Nate called to her softly. “You need to get up and walk back to the cabin. He won’t allow us to touch you. I’m sorry. One of us would carry you, but he won’t let us get close enough.”

She raised a tear-stained face to them. “Wha-what is that thing?”

“Yeah, about that, Marsh—” Mac began.

“Marsha? Is that my name?” The woman cut him off. The whites still showed around her eyes and she was shivering now.

The men exchanged puzzled looks before Nate asked, “You don’t know your name?”

She shook her head and then cupped her hands at her temples as pain flared in her eyes. “Ow. No. I…I think I was unconscious. I woke up in the water, in some branches. Got to shore. And this man…he…he…” She shuddered, her gaze skittering to the wolf. “I can’t remember,” she whispered.

“Well, hell.” Mac glanced back at Lightfoot.

“On it, boss.” The tall Indian, slipped back the way they’d come and started jogging.

“Antoine.” Nate kept his voice calm and low. “Lightfoot has gone for the women. We need to get the marshal to your cabin. Will you let me carry her?”

The wolf snarled again, showing his canines. Then he nosed the woman, urging her to stand. On her feet, she swayed, but he wouldn’t let Nate approach. Instead, he herded her back toward his cabin. The three men followed at a discreet distance.

“He hasn’t mated with her, Mac. Until he does, he won’t be very stable.” Nate remembered those feelings all too well.

Sean growled. “She’s hurt. He can’t mate with her yet. Jacey better bring a fuckin’ tranq gun with her.”

Nate snarled at that and Mac stepped between them. “Look, Hannah was hurt, too, and I was the world’s biggest asshole when it came to the mating ritual.”

Sean bit back a snorting laugh. “That’s the understatement of the year. I’m surprised the major didn’t neuter you with a dull spoon.”

“She would have if she’d had one handy. Thing is, we all know a moonstruck wolf is brain dead. The problem here is that Antoine was raised rogue. He doesn’t know the rules.”

“Hence my desire for the jarhead’s mate to bring her big-ass tranq gun. I say we sedate the wolf, doctor the woman, and get the hell out of Dodge until they work it out.”

Mac resisted the urge to slap the back of Sean’s head. “That woman is a Deputy US Marshal. Letting them work it out isn’t my idea of a smart plan.”

Sean lagged a step behind. “She didn’t recognize us. And I don’t think it was due to her panic. When she said she doesn’t remember, I think she has a head injury that’s caused amnesia. We may need a hospital, Mac. And if Antoine is moonstruck, we’re up shit creek. He won’t let her out of his sight.”

Mac closed his eyes and rolled his head on his neck as he continued to walk. Eyes once again on the trail, he huffed out a deep breath. “Yeah. I know.”

Nate came up on Mac’s opposite side. “Has anyone considered the idea that her amnesia is a good thing? She doesn’t recognize us. We need to keep it that way.” His words were cold, but somebody needed to say them. “We’re not just undercover, Mac. We’re totally off the grid. We all have a price on our heads, including the kids.” He stopped, forcing the other men to stop as well.

“I don’t like where you are going with this.” Mac growled the words and rubbed his forehead. “Shit. I don’t like any of this. Why is she here now?”

Sean didn’t waste words. “Obviously, she’s looking for someone. Probably us.”

Pushing forward, Nate headed after the woman and the wolf and the other two followed him. They jogged along the trail, silent now. When they arrived at the clearing around Antoine’s cabin, they found DJ on the ground, curled up in the fetal position. The wolf stood over her in a protective stance. In the distance, the burr of ATV engines disturbed the quiet.

Five minutes later, three ATVs rolled to a stop. Rudy and Isabelle stepped off one, Hannah and Jacey off the second, while Lightfoot remained seated on the third. None of the men had moved in that time and the wolf had relaxed slightly. With the arrival of the women, the animal pricked his ears, but his ruff remained smooth.

“Antoine?” Izzy called softly to her uncle. “We need to look at her, yeah? Make sure she’s okay?” The wolf paced restlessly between the woman and the rest of them. “You need t’come back, Antoine. Be human for her so she won’t be scared.”

Antoine stopped and stared at each person, facing off against them. Izzy stepped closer, ignoring the warning growl from her mate. The wolf made note of Rudy’s protective stance. Isabelle was his niece. She had a mate. These others had mates. He recognized Hannah as the mate of the pack alpha. Jacey, Nate’s mate, was a healer. So was Sean. He would have been more comfortable if Sean’s mate was present, but they had cubs to protect. He sneezed and let out a soft chuff before walking to Izzy, tail down and ears laid back. When he reached her, she rubbed the top of his head.

“Go inside, change, and put on clothes, Antoine. We will check her injuries and then you can carry her inside for Jacey and Sean to examine her better.”

With the flick of one ear, Antoine turned and padded into the cabin. Jacey and Sean both converged on DJ. Hannah slipped up next to her husband and fitted herself under his arm.

“ Wheeeee . Here we go again.” Sarcasm coated her voice.

Mac snorted softly and hugged her close. “You’re an old hand at this, babe.”

“Yeah, but not with a fuckin’ Deputy US Marshal. What the hell, Mac? She’s probably got warrants for us. What the fuck are we gonna do if she doesn’t get it?”

There were times he hated being the one in charge, but he’d led this team for so many years he couldn’t lay down the burden of command. “I don’t know. Antoine is definitely moonstruck. Fate’s a bitch, but she usually doesn’t screw a Wolf over.” He dropped a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Look at us.”

Hannah cut her eyes up to him and jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

His eyes twinkled when he feigned injury. “Ah…ow?”

“Smart ass.”

“Yes, ma’am. Guilty as charged.” Mac hauled Hannah around to face him and enveloped her in a massive hug, dipping his head to plaster his lips against hers. His kiss seared and branded the woman who held his heart—his very life in her hands. Not too long ago they’d been at loggerheads and that terrible time of disconnect still rubbed him raw. She stiffened for a few seconds before melting under his tender assault. She wanted him. He could smell her desire building. Her hesitation came from his very public display of affection. Mac could live with that. He couldn’t live without Hannah.

Sean squatted on his heels at DJ’s back while Jacey dropped down on her knees in front of the woman. With a gentle hand to her shoulder, Jacey rolled DJ over and spoke softly.

“Marshal? Can you hear me?”

Opening her eyes, she stared at the woman kneeling beside her. “Who are you?”

“My name is Jacey. I’m a veterinarian.” She offered a wry smile. “I know, weird, but I’m the closest thing to medical assistance at the moment. Well, me and Boomer. He’s a combat medic. May we check you over?”

Pressing her hand to the side of her head, DJ blinked several times as she considered. “Do I know you?” She didn’t miss the quick look Jacey exchanged with someone behind her.

“How much do you remember?”

The voice at her back had her twisting her head around to look at its owner. The guy was big. Broad-shouldered, thick chest, biceps a steroid junkie would be envious of, but she figured this guy was real. He’d earned his muscles the old-fashioned way—good DNA and working out. “I…maybe the better question would be, do you know me?”

Again, the two exchanged looks before glancing toward a couple standing a few feet away. Something stirred in her memory, but it was sluggish and it burned enough to hurt so she stopped trying to remember. The blond woman, older than the others, and looking very much in charge stepped closer.

“My name is Hannah. Can you remember yours?”

Panic swelled in her chest making it hard to breathe. She counted to ten. Ten times. Then she asked in a voice not as strong as she’d hoped, “What happened to me?”