Page 25 of Moonlight & Mayhem

“They aren’t coming for Mayhem anymore.” Her gaze lifted to the darkened windows of the clubhouse. “They’re coming for me.”

“They’re coming for me.” Moon hated how easily the words left her mouth. She hated even more that she believed them. Her gaze remained fixed on the five words written across the yellowed page of her grandmother’s journal.

The Silver Healer must return.

Return where? Moon had never belonged anywhere except Baltimore. She’d spent most of her adult life building something here, first as a doctor and then as a member of Dark Chaos. These women were her family. This clubhouse was her home. There was nowhere for her to return to—unless the message wasn’t meant for her. Maybe it was meant for what she was—whatever the hell that happened to be.

“Let me see that.” Tempest reached for the journal, but Moon pulled it back.

“Wait,” she insisted.

Her Prez frowned. “Why?”

“Because those words weren’t there before,” she said. Howler swore beneath his breath, and Mayhem immediately moved closer. Moon felt the bond react before he even touched her. Her wolf pressed against her skin, reaching for his, and the black veins along Mayhem’s arm faded slightly. Moon’s stomach twisted. They were connected whether she wanted to accept it or not.

“Everyone out.” The command came from behind them, and Moon turned to find Christmas standing in the clinic doorway. Chris, as everyone in Dark Chaos called her, didn’t need to shout to command a room. As Vice President of the club, she had mastered the same kind of authority Tempest carried, only hers was quieter and sharper. Tempest was the storm, but Chris was the warning that came before it.

She had changed since the attack. She wore black jeans, heavy boots, and her Dark Chaos kutte. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face, and there was a smear of blood near her collar that Moon hoped didn’t belong to her.

Chris glanced around the crowded clinic. “I said out.”

Mayhem raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure this concerns me.”

Chris looked him up and down. “You're half-naked, poisoned, bleeding through Moon’s sutures again, and standing when you shouldn’t be.”

Mayhem looked at Moon. “You told her?”

“I didn’t have to,” Moon said.

Chris pointed toward the exam table. “Sit your ass down.”

Mayhem looked at Howler, and his Prez shrugged. “You heard the lady.”

“Traitor,” Mayhem grumbled. Howler grinned as Mayhem sat down. Moon almost smiled—almost.

Tempest crossed her arms over her chest. “You planning on throwing me out of my own clinic too?”

“This is Moon’s clinic,” Chris insisted. Tempest narrowed her eyes, but Chris stared back. Moon waited them out to see who would win the pissing match.

Mayhem leaned toward Howler. “Do they do this often?”

“More than you’d think they would,” Howler said.

“Shut up,” Tempest and Chris said simultaneously. Howler smiled, and Moon shook her head. God help them all.

Chris finally looked at Moon, and the humor vanished. “What happened?” she asked. Moon held up the journal, and Chris stepped closer. Moon showed her the words, and her VP read them. Her jaw tightened. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” Moon admitted.

Chris looked at Tempest. “And we’re assuming whoever attacked Silverfang is behind it?”

“No,” Moon said. Everyone looked at her, and Moon swallowed. “I think whoever attacked Silverfang is working for the person behind it.”

Moon glanced toward Mayhem. “You think it was the woman we saw?” she asked. Mayhem nodded.

Chris was silent for several seconds, and then she looked at Tempest. “We need church.”

Tempest nodded. “Agreed.”