Blood Moon (3 page)

“From the Blood Moon Corporation,” I said. The Clan members started talking at once, sounding to my ears like static rather than individual conversations. Donavan slammed his fist on the table again, and the Clan quieted their talking down to whispers.

“Are you sure?” Juliet asked with her long, black hair pulled up in a ponytail and her green eyes red-rimmed from crying. Becca MacGregor, one of the deceased Weres, had been her best friend.

“We’re positive,” Donavan said. “The recent events of the past week weren’t a coincidence. They have been after Sarah, trying to use whatever means they could as to not look directly responsible. Pity for them and good for us, Sarah is smarter than what they gave her credit for.” Donavan pulled out his cell phone. “This is the most recent picture I could find of Rose Mykal.” He held up his phone for everyone to see. “If you see this little, old lady, run like hell the other way. She’s not as fragile as she looks.”

“Are we to protect Sarah?” a brunette in the far corner asked. I had met her before, but I couldn’t remember her name.

“She is going back to Malevolent Dead where Damian will protect her. As her Clansmen, we will do whatever is needed to make sure she gets out of this alive.”

“Even going up against the BMC?” the brunette asked. “Are you crazy? They’ll kill us.”

“Then we will die with honor,” Donavan said. His voice grew deep and reverberated around the room. The Weres in the room dropped their gazes, several of them falling to their knees, as full weight of the Romi fell down on them. Besides myself, only Jensen and Juliet maintained their gazes and posture. I smiled. They were strong together. I could imagine them as Romi and Roma of a Clan one day.

“Jensen, could you walk Sarah to the door and keep an eye on her until she is safely in her car? I think it’s time for her to get back.”

My blood ran cold at the instant reminder of my danger as I stood. Jensen walked ahead of me, opening the front door for me and standing at its entrance as I walked across the gravel to my car.

I had started out thinking of the steel blue Mustang as a company car since Damian gave it as a gift, but I had grown attached to it. He would have to kill me to get the Stang back. As I opened the door I remembered that Donavan had taken my weapons. I didn’t want to go back, and I smiled when I saw that I didn’t have to. Aminka walked over to me from her car with my Walther P22 and twin throwing knives in her hands. I didn’t even pause to put everything back in its place. I tossed the weapons on the passenger seat, climbed in, and started the car.

I drove to Malevolent Dead with my radio on full blast, wishing that the heavy metal would calm my shaky hands and frazzled nerves. Every shadow, every sudden movement made me ready myself for the worst. By the time I pulled into Malevolent Dead’s parking lot, I was a tense mess.

Dez met me in the parking lot. I found it unusual for a strong vampire to be out this late, but I had already figured out that Dez was no ordinary vampire. What he was, though, was still shrouded in mystery. I looked the blue haired vamp over. His labret piercing shimmered in the waning moonlight and his blue eyes, which should have been black if he were indeed a vampire, shone with amusement. As usual, he wore a Metallica t-shirt, jeans, and Converse sneakers. I didn’t know much about him, and there was so much I couldn’t trust. I think he felt that, but didn’t seem to care about it.

“Damian called T.D.. That witch,” he spat the word like a curse, “should be here shortly.”

“Why?”

“He seems to think you need protection, but if the Guild is after you, no amount of protection will help.”

I followed him inside. My mind reflected on his name for the BMC, The Guild. They dropped that title in the 1920s. Either Dez worked for them once upon a time, or he was old enough to remember when they had been called the Blood Moon Guild. Dez smelled like a new vampire and looked like he was changed over at seventeen. Every sense told me to kill him before he killed me, but my faith in Damian kept that in check. If the born vampire could trust him, I could wait a little longer before shoving a stake in his heart.

Dez left to go find Damian as I made my way up to my bedroom. It wasn’t until my hand reached for my holster to put my gun on my dresser that I realized I left my Walther P22 and the rest of my weapons in my car’s passenger seat.

“Hell,” I muttered as I removed the holster and knife sheaths and tossed them in the corner of the room. I walked into the bathroom, showered, slid on my Hello Kitty pajamas and then climbed into bed. Normally I’d be up until 1am helping Damian manage his club, Malevolent Dead, but tonight I just couldn’t. My mind felt jumbled, and I’d probably think that some innocent person was a BMC assassin and get them killed.

I lay in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling as I waited for my mind to quiet down.

It didn’t.

I rolled onto my side and opened the part of me connected to Damian.

“What’s going on?” I asked aloud, knowing he would hear me.

“I’ve assigned guards to every entrance and exit.”
His ancient accent slid through my mind like molten chocolate. “
There’s nothing more we can do until they attack.”

“Do you think they will?” I asked aloud.

“I don’t know what to think. I’m basing my tactics on the armies of my youth.”

“Good thing you’ve been around for a while. You must know every trick in the book.”

I felt him laugh. “
And then some.”

The words felt like they should come from an intimate lover and I blushed.

“I can join you, if you want.”

I almost laughed at the hesitant tone of Damian’s voice. Almost. When I drank his blood, we crossed a line, and I started to wonder if things would ever be the same again. The more we talked to each other, I saw the look in his eyes or I heard the tone in his voice, I realized that we couldn’t go back. We no longer had an employer/employee relationship. He wanted more because I looked like his dead wife.

I was in love, with Jared.

I cut our connection before Damian sensed my pain. I rolled onto my other side as grief ate at me and sighed. The action caused me to pick up a scent. Gun powder and Dove soap mixed with the musk of a wolf. I reached under my pillow and pulled out one of Jared’s muscle tees. My gut cramped and a sob wrenched itself from my body.

Just as quickly, it was over. The pain of loss disappeared and determination replaced it.

I now had Jared’s scent. With that, plus my enhanced abilities, I could find him anywhere. Once I found his body, I’d find the scent of his murderer.

Revenge
.

I knew this feeling well. We had been friends for the better half of five years. The last six months had derailed me, making me forget who I was.

I was Sarah Vargas, uberwerewolf. The BMC stole the man I loved. I wanted to kill them. Tossing the covers aside I stalked into the bathroom, digging in the cabinet under the sink until I found what I looked for. Twenty-five minutes later I rinsed the black dye from my hair, letting my guilt and grief wash down the drain along with the excess color. Those emotions would get me nowhere. I let my rage envelop me. I wasn’t going to hide here, waiting for them to attack. Tomorrow I would hunt them down. The Blood Moon Corporation would regret coming after me.

I wiped the condensation off the bathroom mirror and curled my lips in a smile as I saw that my eyes no longer looked blue. A wolf’s amber eyes looked back at me. It wasn’t in a wolf’s nature to focus on grief and loss rather than revenge. For once in my life, my human side and my wolf counterpart synced.

Slipping back on my pajamas, I returned to bed. I had to sleep or else I’d be reckless tomorrow. I burrowed under the covers with Jared’s shirt pressed against me like a security blanket, and closed my eyes.

Sleep finally came.

Chapter Four

2:53 a.m.

Staring at the red numbers of my clock, I couldn’t remember waking up, or why I woke.

I rolled over and sat up, listening in the darkness as my wolf’s senses went crazy. My ears didn’t hear anything and I stood to get the light.

Something wasn’t right. I flipped on the light, and its sudden brightness temporarily blinded me.

I saw a blur before someone kicked me in the chest. My head hit the wall so hard that had I been human, I would have died and had I been a normal Were, I would have been knocked out. I was neither.

The person in my room had already turned his back to me, pulling out a phone and dialing a number. He – no she–looked like a ninja, covered head to toe in black cloth that hugged a lithe yet muscular body. I blinked, forcing my eyes to finish adjusting to the light as I silently pushed off the wall.

I tackled the ninja wannabe to the ground. I knocked her phone out of her hands, and it slid across the floor, coming to a stop at my bathroom door. Her hands grabbed my shoulders and I felt electric-like magic sizzle through my body. I ground my teeth in pain as I tried to break her grip. Magic told me witch, but the strength told me something else. Great. I hated surprises.

Her eyes flashed in angry confusion as she tried to put more power into her electrifying touch. I head butted her, and finally her hands let go.

Spinning, I delivered a round-house kick only to have her forearm block it. She anticipated my next moves, blocking my kicks and punches effortlessly. I wish I could have said the same about delivering them. My body ached from her touch and my ears rang. I knew that it should have hurt worse than it did, and silently thanked Damian for his blood in me. My feelings about drinking his blood had turned into a love/hate relationship. I could feel my body slowing, my punches not as forceful, and my kicks not as fluid. Her electric touch may not have hurt, but it seriously drained me.

Sensing my exhaustion, her defensive moves became offensive. Blocking a punch with her right hand, she slammed her left fist into my jaw. I felt the power in the blow as I fell to the floor. As she grabbed the curve of my neck, I felt her magic seep into me. I screamed as it flared, sizzling through my veins and crackling against my bones.

I reached up, trying to grab her and wrench her off, but I only managed to remove the cloth that had kept her face shrouded from me. Indigo hair cascaded down, a beautiful, unnatural waterfall of color, and my heart sank.

“Amythist?” I managed say from between clenched teeth. The magic faltered as her sapphire eyes met mine. That was all I needed. Shoving her back, I then used both fists to punch her in the chest. She fell into the wall, gasping for breath. A blow like that should have crushed her sternum, but she wasn’t all witch like I wasn’t all Were.

Pushing off the wall Amythist stood with her hands at her sides, palms up. Lavender sorcery flowed from her fingers like smoke. It slithered across the floor so quickly that I didn’t have time to react. The lavender magic coiled around my legs and for several moments, nothing happened. Then pain crushed my chest and forced the air out of my lungs. My back bowed in pain as Amythist took the pain of my earlier blow and fed it back to me. I felt my body bend under the weight of the strike until my legs gave out. I sank onto the floor.

The sorcery dissipated as Amythist stalked over to me. “I’m sorry, Sarah,” she said with pain filling her voice. “I can’t stop. Rose will give me what I need if I kill you.”

I wanted to ask her what she needed when Amythist’s power flared again, and I writhed on the floor. Pain lacerated my insides, and all my mental barriers cracked.

I felt the air shift around me as the pressure changed. Suddenly, two sets of hands grabbed Amythist and shoved her back against the wall. I gasped for breath, as Damian strode to my side. Tears came to my eyes as I tried to sit up. The woman stood against my closet door, hands above her head. Dez stood before her, a warning hand held up at chest level. A ghost of a smile passed my lips as I saw the glittery blue polish that decorated Dez’s fingernails.

“I have no quarrel with you,” Amythist said, lacing her fingers together and placing them on her head. “I have a warrant from the Blood Moon Corporation, signed by Rose Mykal herself, for the werewolf’s execution.”

“Let me see it,” Dez said as Damian stepped in front of me, blocking Amythist’s view. I stood, ignoring the wave of nausea I felt for moving so quickly, and looked over Damian’s shoulder at my old friend.

Moving carefully, Amythist unzipped her cat-suit down to the waist, exposing her heavy cleavage in a turquoise lace bra. Just as slowly, she reached into the waist of her suit, pulled out a folded sheet of paper, and handed it to Dez. He didn’t even look twice at her as he took the paper and opened it. Damian held out an arm, blocking me, as Amythist zipped her suit back up. She looked up at the born vampire and smiled.

“I’m not going to do anything, Lord Vampire,” she said with a glimmer of mirth in her eyes. “I have strict orders not to harm you or your vampires.”

“What does the BMC care about my well being?”

Amythist shrugged. “Haven’t a clue and never thought to ask.”

Dez walked over to us, handing the paper to Damian as his eyes focused on me. “It’s legit, boss. According to this, their laws dictate that we are to hand Sarah over without a fight.”

Amythist took a step forward. Damian hissed, and I felt the full force of his power slam against her. She fell back against the wall. Her hands came up to her head as she tried to steady herself against his onslaught.