Midnight Moonrising (Moonrising #2)(13)

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"What do you mean, you didn't get the dagger?" Phoenix's voice bellowed, and the four vampires standing in his bedroom chamber cowered under the intensity of his glare. "Someone had better answer me before I throw you all outside to burn!"

Jaxon took a step forward, but struggled to hold eye contact with the high vampire. "There were six wolves and only five of us, Phoenix. April was bitten. Ray got her out of there, and I rushed to get the blade, but someone else had already gotten to the dagger and fled. It was gone from the body."

"Did you at least kill some of them?" Phoenix asked in a quiet voice.

Jaxon's eyes widened. "They were already gone by the time I realized the weapon had been taken, but even if they had been there… you said the war was over, that we shouldn't kill any of Mena's pack—"

"These wolves are clearly not part of Mena's pack!" Phoenix grabbed Jaxon's throat and lifted his feet off the floor. "Is it not clear to you that they do not accept Mena as their leader? They are trying to frame her for murder!" Jaxon nodded and Phoenix dropped him. "That war has just begun. Find them at nightfall, get the dagger and kill them all."

Phoenix turned away from Jaxon and walked to the fireplace. The sound of shuffling feet leaving his bed chambers was expected. He didn't have to voice the dismissal for them to get the point. He was done. Exhaustion had set in and he was about to be down for the count, mentally as well as physically.

He knew one had stayed. That had also been expected.

"How is April?" Phoenix said, barely above a whisper.

The crackling of burning wood was all that was heard for a moment, and then Jaxon finally spoke. "She's in a bad way. You should go see her before… before it is too late."

Phoenix's eyes slammed shut as a sigh escaped through his parted lips, but instead of replying, he only nodded.





Chapter 8



Mena





It was surprisingly warm for late January, but that was nothing uncommon in the state of Alabama. It could be eighty degrees one day and hovering around the zero mark the next. I was happy the weather had at least decided to cooperate with me, because every reporter in the tri-state area had decided to show for the press conference.

I gave a small sigh as the city's chief of police wrapped up his speech and introduced me to the crowd of microphones and voice recorders. I wasn't nervous as I took everyone's attention; my wolf was definitely on top of her game today.

"Thank you all for coming. I know most of you knew Marc, if not personally, then from a business standpoint. Many of you got the chance to interview him, and a special few of you got the chance to sit with him over cigars and scotch and long conversations that had absolutely nothing to do with crime or law or who should be appointed as the next senator. If you knew Marc at all, then you are the lucky ones. Very few people actually find out what they are meant to do with their lives, but Marc knew what he was born to do from a very young age: argue with people."

The crowd laughed, and I even saw a few people wipe at their misty eyes. He was loved and respected by these people. I knew that, and I had no intention of slandering his name and letting them know what had actually happened before his death. That would only cause me bigger problems than I already had.

"That was something he was definitely good at. He was one of those men who, when he spoke, people listened. They listened because they wanted to hear what he had to say. I won't stand up here and say that he was always right, because I've had a few arguments with him myself. The man has been wrong before."

More laughter issued from the crowd and I smiled.

"I sort of feel sorry for Saint Peter, because I know Marc is still standing at the pearly gates and arguing with the angel that it is not his time to go through them yet. Whether that is true or not, the fact remains that he is not here, and he is not standing before you giving one of his famous speeches that everyone loved to hear. I'm sure he's jealous that I'm up here getting all the attention." More chuckles erupted from the people staring up at me, and I was happy they would remember this day and think kindly of Marc. "He would want you to remember him as a strong and determined man, one who never gave up the fight until he was victorious. Detective Alex Rhodes and the officers of Montgomery's Police Department are doing everything they can to find Marc's killer and bring him to justice. I believe only then will Marc truly be at rest." I smiled and nodded. "Thank you."


I didn't give them time to start asking questions. I was praying they would respect the fact that I'd buried my husband only the day before and let me off the hook.

Katie, one of the female members of my pack, was at the bottom of the steps to whisk me through the crowd easily. A reporter ran up and stuck a microphone in my face, and Katie's elbow quickly introduced itself to the man's nose. She didn't even bother with apologies when he cried out and covered the blood-gushing snout with his hands, and none of the other media tried to get close to me after that. The act moved her far up the list of the twenty-seven. I was impressed.

She opened the passenger door of my Audi and I got in quickly, anxious to get away from anyone who knew Marc. I knew this small speech about my dead husband wouldn't be my last, but I needed to get away from people in general for a little while.