Moon Claimed (Werewolf Dens #2) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,98

review. I should have it back in a few days tops.”

“There’s no real rush.”

I don’t like him, my wolf said.

Yeah, he’s kind of spineless.

Not that. Look at his eyes.

Foley handed me a bound document, eyes never lifting higher than my chin.

Right. I see what you mean.

He’s jumpy.

“Foley,” I called as a machine started up behind us. “Is everything okay?”

He licked his lips. “It’s just… I’m sorry about my part in what happened in Clay. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

There was so much stink in here, I couldn’t tell truth from lie. He did look sheepish. “That’s why you were put on probation instead of exiled from the tribe. I know—I hope—that those involved will see the error of their decisions. Everyone deserves a second chance.”

Though, in my experience, most people blew it.

Ragna.

Herc.

Murphy.

Rhona.

Me.

I jerked at a sharp pain in my back. “What?”

Spinning, the world slanted as I stared into Rhona’s emerald gaze. My gaze dropped to what she held.

A tranquiliser gun.

I stumbled to the side, knees buckling. Sliding across the floor, unable to support myself, my blinks became heavier.

So heavy.

Rhona crouched over me. “It’s time for the truth, sister, don’t you think?”

26

Ouch.

My head.

Hands.

Body.

I tried to speak, but my lips couldn’t open. Jolting awake, my eyes flew open. I couldn’t move my hands!

Oh my god.

Was there duct tape over my mouth?

The world swayed like an ocean, and I choked back rising bile that couldn’t escape with the tape over my mouth.

Are you okay? I asked my wolf.

Don’t feel good.

Rhona shot me with a dart. A fucking dart. That she hated me enough to resort to that method nearly brought forth a free surge of vomit.

I really didn’t feel so good.

Where was I?

My feet were bound with rope. They’d bound my hands in front of me with rope too. I was lying on a metal floor. The small platform had rail sides. A remote-control panel sat above my head.

I was in a cherry picker tray.

Blinking, I studied the twilight sky above me.

We’re not in the shed, I thought at her.

How long had passed?

I tensed at the telltale boom of the cannon. Shit. The game had started? We’d been out for hours. Or they’d shot us multiple times.

I struggled against my bonds. This couldn’t mean anything good. Rhona wanted me out of the game. She had something planned.

The tray jolted down, and I choked back fresh nausea.

We cannot shift, my wolf slurred.

The sedative affected her more than me, but she was right. I couldn’t feel my wolf form. I should be able to hear and smell far better than this. We needed this tranquiliser to wear off, which meant not getting shot again.

These human limitations were debilitating. I felt so vulnerable.

Head lolling, I closed my eyes and relaxed my body as the tray continued to lower.

“She still out?” someone asked.

Valerie.

What a cow.

A hand gently slapped my face. The male sighed. “Yeah. She’s out.”

Billy.

Let’s make a coat out of their skin after this, my wolf said.

The thought nearly overturned my stomach again. Not happening.

You have coats made of other animals’ skin.

Fake leather, but… Can we discuss this another time?

“Maybe we should give her another dose just in case,” Valerie said. “We don’t want her to wake during Rhona’s speech.”

“It doesn’t matter if she’s awake or not during the Stabattse. She’s tied up.”

What the hell was a Stabattse?

It was kind of familiar. Had I read the term before? Billy placed particular inflection on the word. It was important.

Ceremonial.

And it contained the word stab so it couldn’t be anything great.

Valerie nudged my thigh. “Maybe I just feel like shooting her.”

Billy said, “The plan seemed simple but seeing her tied up makes me feel crap. There must have been a better way to do this.”

“Tell that to Herc.”

He didn’t reply, and my hopes for release vanished. One of them checked the bindings on my hands and feet.

“Okay,” Valerie said, excitement tinging her voice. “Let’s take her over.”

Her footsteps faded, and Billy crouched at my head, prying the tape off my mouth.

“They shouldn’t have put this on. What if you vomit?” he said.

I deserved a damn Academy Award for keeping the act up during that.

I could move my mouth again. Should I give up the act and reason with him?

Wait until I can help you, my wolf urged.

Obeying, I didn’t budge as Billy left the tray. The tray rose once more, and soon after the cherry picker truck drove forward with us suspended high above.

At least we could be certain Rhona hadn’t learned about my Luther status or