Moonlight Secrets (#2 Penderry's Bizarre)

Chapter Nineteen

Jim rested his head on his coat and satchel, watching the campfire sparks drift into the night air. The morning rain had stopped hours ago, but the heady aroma of wet, sunbaked ground still lingered in the air. A handful of infantry and servants sat outside the barrack office, eating sweet rice pudding. Jim and his friends listened to the soldiers' tales about the werewolves.

"First time I encountered them was about ten years ago at Shamki village in Purabad," said Corporal Wilson. "It's a princely state, not under British rule. We try not to get involved in their affairs, but the villagers called for military aid. It was a massacre over there."

"Were there any survivors?" asked McKusky.

"Apart from Anju, very few. But they rebuilt the village. It's a prosperous place now, just a shame they give away most of their wealth at the shrine."

"Shrine?"

"When the maharaja of Purabad heard about the Shamki attack, he took the village under his protection. He's a superstitious king and instructed them to build a shrine to the werewolves. According to him, only offerings of riches would appease the demons and keep them at bay. To this day, the villagers still use the shrine. Nobody questions where the offerings disappear to."

"Straight into the maharaja's purse, I suspect," said Westman.

Corporal Wilson smirked. "Like I said, we don't get involved in their affairs. But now we know the true identity of the werewolves, the rules have changed."

A pot of water boiled on the fire, ready for tea. McKusky spooned dried tea leaves into the bubbling pan. Pikoo climbed over Jim's face, sniffing his neck. Jim mumbled a muffled protest and moved the animal off his nose. Bunny's pet was familiar with the cantonment, and Captain Spencer had suggested letting him loose. Pikoo had plenty of territory to explore, but chose to stay close to Jim. Probably because he kept a paper bag of dried sprat in his satchel.

"Are you still clowning around with that mongoose?" asked McKusky, chuckling.

"What can I say? He's grown attached to me."

Pikoo chattered and bit the fabric of Jim's trouser braces.

Blinks placed a collection of tin mugs beside the fire. "Aye. Nothing to do with the fact you keep feeding him."

"Now you mention it, it's possible I'm being used." Jim stroked Pikoo's fur.

Blinks grinned, then joined Westman for a card game.

A document crunched under Jim's head, and he reached inside the pocket of his coat. He tugged out the crumpled envelope and held it up in the firelight. Miss Spencer's valentine. Pikoo sniffed the corner of the envelope, then slunk away to investigate an empty pudding bowl. Bracing a boot heel in the dust, Jim sighed and shifted to get comfortable. Valentine's Day was weeks ago, and the card seemed worthless now. Or at the very least, inappropriate. There was little point in keeping it. He glanced at the crackling flames that danced beside him.

"Penderry," called Westman. "Join us for a game."

"Maybe later."

Westman peered at the playing cards he'd been dealt, his brow cinching. "I wouldn't normally say this, but damnation, man, you're no fun anymore."

Jim raised an eyebrow, amused. "Lord, if you think I'm a bore things must be dire."

But Westman was right. He hadn't been himself since learning of Bunny's kidnapping. Her smile and radiant eyes had haunted him all the way to India. Every day, he was consumed with one simple calling to find Bunny Spencer. Heaven help him.