Free Under the Full Moon (Crimson Romance) by Bobbi Romans

not buying Trick’s story.
    “Yes, for the most part I had. But in the beginning I truly had no memories other than being with them. Shortly before my release, a few fleeting memories returned. I wisely kept them to myself.”
    “Doesn’t really explain why they let you go though.” Grace understood she probably came off rabid in her questioning, but she needed to be sure.
    “The only explanation I can offer is that their assumption I had no memory of my past coupled with being drilled we’d never be able to return to the world outside the swamp without being killed like a freak of nature,” Trick brought his pointed finger to his throat and made a slashing sign, “made it safe to release us. Maybe they wanted to test how we would react out on our own. I don’t really know.”
    “I’ve often wondered if they somehow tracked our movements. Cameras or monitoring devices in certain areas perhaps?” Moss offered while seeming to roll around Trick’s comments.
    Which did make a little sense. Damien and Moss had both been returned to the swamps under Octavia’s watchful glare. Maybe they did have some way of monitoring their movements or at the very least were able to make sure none left certain perimeters. While there was no real way to block off the swamp, there might be magical wards that would alarm them when someone tried. Would even explain how Octavia knew Beth had entered the swamp when she met Moss.
    With so much to question, Grace had no choice but to go with her instincts and Damien’s on whether Trick was trustworthy. Other than his anger when Trick dissed her by calling her a ball buster — she knew Damien believed the kid. She’d felt no lies rolling from him and his aura remained clear.
    For now it appeared Trick would remain a part of their group. But she’d be keeping a close eye on him in the coming days.
    A cell phone went off, and strangely enough, it turned out to be Damien’s, though no one but she, Moss, and Beth had his number. Considering they were all standing in the same room and none held their cell phone, it screamed shit was about to get real.

Chapter Ten
    Grace noted the serious, precise movements of Damien’s steps. He paced the small cabin, cell phone planted in his ear, answering in strict, short yeses and nos. She couldn’t quite pick up enough of his conversation to establish what the call concerned, only the serious nature of it.
    “Fine. We will meet you then. What does B.E.A.R. mean? You’re fucking joking, right? Alrighty then.” He snapped the phone closed with a semi laugh before facing them. “That was B.E.A.R. and they want to meet with us.”
    “How did they get your number? The only ones privy to the private number are right here in this room.” Nerves shot, Grace questioned everything. Far too many things had happened and way too fast for a mole not to be among them. Without proof, she was staying mum.
    “I’m not sure,” Damien mumbled, appearing deep in thought.
    “In this day and age with the computer technology we have available, anything is possible,” Trick mentioned.
    “True.” Beth nodded in full agreement with the kid.
    “So what else did they say? Who they are? What’s their intentions? How do they fit into all this … anything?” Grace pushed.
    “Yes, yes and no.” Damien came to stand in front of them all. His long legs covering the distance in two strides and though the timing was shitty, Grace had to fight to keep her gaze on his face and not trail down the body that gave her such pleasure. “Bear turns out to be an acronym for ‘Beating Evil’s Ass Regularly’.”
    Moss bellowed with laughter, earning a thud to his stomach from Beth, who chastised him to be quiet so they could listen to Damien’s recap of his mystery phone call.
    “Turns out there were others who escaped the swamp witch’s curse, or more aptly, the Society’s, and they formed their own little group. Decided as survivors to try and stop the asshats from