Page 14 of Crimson Moon Falling

Ash held out a protein drink. “You need some nourishment.”

Conall shook his head. “I’m good.”

Ash sighed, opened the lid, then held it out to him again. “You haven’t been eating or sleeping much lately, and we’re going up against Langston’s personal army. Drink.”

Conall took the bottle and drank, grimacing at the chocolate flavor that couldn’t mask the chalky protein powder. Then Ash handed him water, and he chugged it too.

“Thanks.” His phone buzzed with a text.

Parker: Langston has her. Tell me you’re close

Conall: Twenty minutes from landing in West Yellowstone. Where are you?

Parker: Two hours out

Conall called him, and Parker picked up immediately. “That piece of shit director needs to be taken out,” he snarled. “I told her to be careful.”

“Two bodyguards, the hellhounds, and Gunnar are with her. But Langston came with half a dozen armed agents. Do you know where she is now? She’s not answering, and Freda said she willingly went with them to keep everyone alive.”

“Of course I do. You think I’d let her out of my sight without a tracker on her after Roswell? I put one on the gold chain she wears.”

Relief flooded Conall. “Fuck, I could kiss you right now.”

“Try it, and I’ll shank you. I don’t understand, though. They stopped on the road just north of the Old Faithful Lodge. They haven’t moved in a good hour.”

“Roadblock, maybe? Or animals on the road?”

In the background, Conall heard a deep voice with a slight Cajun accent. “Otis thinks they might be waiting for another team, or a helicopter.”

Fear coursed through him. “You can’t get there in time, but you can track her for us.”

“Fine, but if you let anyone hurt her again, I’ll gut you myself.” He hung up before Conall could respond.

The fierce protectiveness in Parker mirrored Conall’s own. For all their animosity, their need to protect Riley united them.

“Why do you think they haven’t moved?” Ash asked.

“It might be Beau’s doing.” He hoped to god they weren’t waiting for a helicopter to transport her.

When they landed, two Idaho Betas met them at the West Yellowstone airport. Lainey and Hudson were mated and had three pups. They worked a ranch together, and from their clothes and dust on their boots, he’d probably pulled them from work.

“Give us the lay of the land,” Lainey requested as they drove.

Conall explained the situation. “There are six agents with Langston. The shifters are ours, and the troll is Riley’s ISB partner, Gunnar Alfson.”

Hudson shook his head. “Six agents seems like overkill. And who’d she piss off to get a troll for a partner? They’re volatile, grumpy assholes on their best days.”

Ash’s mouth twitched. “I met him in Roswell. He’s only part troll, so only half as volatile and grumpy.”

They drove along a narrow, winding road through a pine forest, catching occasional glimpses of the river. Then the vista opened onto vast plains. The landscape was magnificent, and Conall decided he and Riley would have to return when they could fully appreciate its beauty.

His phone buzzed with an update from Parker. Riley’s location hadn't changed. The relief was short-lived when, a few minutes later, they rounded a bend and saw what’d stopped her abductors.

Massive brown bodies blocked the road. Bison stood across the asphalt and down the banks, spilling onto the surrounding grassland. Conall counted almost two dozen of the enormous creatures.

The bison weren’t moving much and didn’t appear to be grazing. They simply stood, a wall of fur and muscle, their dark eyes watchful. Tourists lined the shoulders, and the stupid ones got out of their vehicles and held up their phones and cameras.

Beau Harlon’s massive frame walked toward them through the bodies. The man was solid as bedrock, with an energy that throbbed with ancient plains and thundering hooves.