Page 89 of Crimson Moon Falling

Parker set his mug down and stared at me. “I got a call from one of my Marine buddies who works for a defense contractor in D.C. He’s got sources.”

My implant hissed to life, sending a cold shiver down my spine. Something in Parker’s energy had gone hard and focused.

“What kind of sources?”

“His brother is one of those invisible, high-level support staff who work with commanders and generals.” Parker’s jaw tightened. “They think General Wilson and Apex are planning an internal coup, and your name came up. He called me because we have the same last name.”

“A… military coup?” My implant scrambled, running probabilities and calculating risk factors with brutal efficiency as fear spread through me.

“The evidence is pointing that way. Marlowe is still pulling strings behind the scenes, but he and Wilson aren’t seeing eye to eye.”

“A coup, or an Apex Mentis takeover?” I pushed the rest of my cornbread away. “I don’t know if them being at odds makes it better or worse.”

Parker stared at me. “Hard to say. I wonder if you have some of your mother’s Inamorata abilities. There were a few college guys, Segerson, Malcolm, and that bastard who’s fixated on you.”

“Don’t say that. If anyone suspects, I might be pulled in for retesting and labeled a Polymorph.”

Parker shook his head. “Riles, you are a Polymorph, and it’s not something to be ashamed of. Your mom is a bitch who ruthlessly used people, but not everyone who’s an Inamorata is like her.”

But I was ashamed, and sometimes I had nightmares of running through the Roswell facility as Marlowe stalked me, calling me his pet. The man had become a persistent, nightmarish specter I couldn’t shake, and his telling me I’d come to him someday was messing with my head. Was he behind the coup, or were he and Wilson at odds?

“Their asses are on the line because the public now knows someone is trying to raise a fuckin’ supernatural army. If they take over, they won’t have to worry about going to prison. If rumors are true, the Defense Department and Apex plan to declare emergency martial law in key regions.”

Frustration and rage swelled in my chest. “It just keeps getting worse, doesn’t it?”

Parker nodded. “They’ve probably been planning it for years. The facilities, the modified soldiers, the consolidation of power. And now they plan to take over the Administration. It’s not just about registering shifters or turning Normals into Cogs.”

“The Packs and supernaturals aren’t going to just lie down and take it.”

“If they don’t know what the fuck’s going on, it might be too late. You need to tell Conall.”

Telling him meant dragging the shifters into the middle of a firestorm. “He’ll mobilize the Pack and try to persuade the Pack Council.”

“Good. It’s about fuckin’ time.”

“More people will get hurt… or die.” My fists clenched. There might be a way to stop Wilson without dragging the Pack into the middle of the storm.

Parker’s hand squeezed mine. “Everyone makes their own choices. None of that is on you.” For once, Parker was wrong. It was on me because maybe I had a way to stop Apex Mentis this time. He put his elbows on the bar and stared at me. “I don’t like the look in your eyes. For once in your goddamn life, let someone else carry the weight.”

The next day passed in a blur of Pack life, and learning how to care for an infant. I helped with Feeny, mostly by holding her when she cried. For some bizarre reason, she seemed to like my scent and the little tune I hummed that my father used to hum to me.

But Parker’s warnings had taken root. My implant processed the discovery with cold efficiency, determining that it was an urgent threat and a high risk. Telling Conall meant dragging the entire Pack into whatever came next, and the thought of more people getting hurt sat heavy.

Conall noticed my distracted state, and I caught him watching me across the dinner table, his gray eyes sharp. I needed to tell him. But more than that, I needed a plan.

The evening before I was supposed to fly back to Wyoming, I stood in our bedroom, folding clean clothes. Feeny was downstairs with Owen, and the house was quiet.

Conall stood in the doorway, his jaw tight as his eyes turned gold. “You didn’t tell me.”

My stomach sank. “Tell you what?”

“Don’t.” He closed the door. “Parker called me an hour ago.”

Of course Parker had called him. “It’s intel from one person. Maybe–”

“Apex and its allies are planning to take over.” He crossed the room in two strides, caught my elbow, and turned me to face him. “Jesus Christ, Riley. How many times are you going to do this?”

“Do what? I didn’t tell you because I’m still processing it, okay?”