Four Moons: The Complete Collection: (Books 1 - 4)

by Amos, Richard

  I kept my eyes off G’s peachy arse as we strode to his car parked in a shadowy corner.

  Orange lights blinked to indicate the unlocking, and the werewolf popped the boot open. He removed a pair of white tracksuit bottoms, a hoody, and some trainers, quickly slipping them on. He didn’t bother to zip the hoody, leaving the scruminess of his chest and abs exposed.

  Scruminess? What the fuck?

  I cleared my throat and slid into the passenger side, in need of a sugar fix, and to tell my cock off for stirring so much.

  Chocolate raisins were my addiction, along with beef lasagna. Actually, the choccie raisins were the supreme. They trumped everything else.

  G being G, he’d kept several bags of the good stuff in his glove compartment at all times. Talk about rocking the best buddy code. I mean, he was my best friend now. Mama Rita was out of that role, and now he’d come to fill it. And that’s just who he was—caring and loyal, and the best guy anyone could want.

  But not me. No. He’d be perfect for someone better, someone who deserved him. Not a hot mess like myself, who was all about the kill and the fuck and the bake. He’d neglected Tristan, the model he’d sort of dated, but that prick wasn’t deserving of him either.

  I only hoped I could keep a part of him too, whenever he found the one. He’d promised me we’d always be friends, and I held onto that. I needed him in my life.

  I need to kiss him…

  I tore open the bag of confectionary, popping four of the beauties in my gob. Ah, so good, so soothing.

  “Tenshi praise the maker of chocolate raisins,” I said as he got in.

  He chuckled, firing up the engine. “Absolutely.”

  “And tenshi praise Gabriel Dawson for keeping me stocked up in the field.”

  “You crazy guy.”

  “Want one?”

  “I’m good, thank you.”

  He got us moving, heading back to the main road. I sat back, enjoying my chocolate raisins, trying not to think too much about the banshee, about everything. It wouldn’t last long, but I’d take the journey home as a moment of chill.

  Chapter Two

  I lived in a flat on Grays Inn Road above a small row of shops, one of them being a café called The Teacup, which was run by day vampires—Lucy and Polly. Being day vamps, the couple had remained in their bed since the moon had got stuck. They lived in the flat next to mine, above the newsagents with me above their place of business, and every day I made sure I gave them blood, intravenously, and generally kept an eye on them as they slept.

  As G pulled his car up, the two wolf guards coming up behind, I saw Mrs. Wallace sitting on the bench outside the café.

  It actually was proper night at that moment, coming close to midnight. The old woman should’ve been at home, not out here in the chilly September evening. There was no telling her, though. Every day she came here, being a mega loyal customer of The Teacup, and waited. For the sun. For change. For the world to go back to how it was before when it didn’t feel like we were on the edge of a mighty shit storm.

  I got out of the car and walked over to her. “Mrs. Wallace?”

  She looked up at me. The lines on her dark face had increased, and she was looking gaunt. I fed her as much as I could, took stuff round to her flat. But that didn’t stop her looking so damn frail.

  “Akira,” she said, her voice slightly cracked. “How are you?”

  All she had on was a thin shawl. There were bruises across her hand which rested on the top of her walking stick.

  “I’m fine, Mrs. Wallace,” I replied. “What’s this?” I gestured to her hand.

  She smiled warmly at me. “I hurt my hand when I fell.”

  I crouched down. “Are you okay? You injured anywhere else?”

  “Stop fussing.” She flapped her other hand. “I’m fine, Akira. Don’t worry.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Just my hand. Such a caring boy, you are.”

  “I’m worried about you. It’s proper chilly and late. Way too late.”

  She didn’t say anything as she looked up at the dark window of Polly and Lucy’s flat.

  “Mrs. Wallace?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “How about some tea?”

  The old woman shook her head. “Not before bed. Oh, hello, Gabriel.”

  He’d come to stand next to me. “Hello, Mrs. Wallace. How are you?”

  “I’m tired. My, don’t you look ravishing tonight.” She offered me a cheeky wink.

  Hmmm.

  “Bit of a mess, I’m afraid,” G replied.

  “You look lovely.” She yawned. “I want to go home.”

  “Okay.” I stood, offering my arm. She took it, and I helped her to her feet, steadying her as she wobbled. “Have you seen a doctor about that hand?”

  “No. I don’t need to. It’s nothing time won’t heal.”

  “Please, go. For me. I’m worried.”

  She shook her head. “Fuss, fuss, fuss.” Her good hand went to my cheek. It was freezing. “You shouldn’t worry your pretty head so much.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re so sweet, Mrs. Wallace.”

  “I know.” Another wink.

  “We’ll take you home,” G said, taking her other arm.

  “Look at me, sandwiched between two handsome men. Lucky, lucky me!”

  We led her to the car, easing her into the back. It was warm in there, at least.

  One day, I was gonna find her dead or hurt, or something awful. I hated that she came out at all hours to check on things, to see if Polly and Lucy were awake and ready to open the doors of their café again. Even at night, when they wouldn’t be awake anyway. It was dangerous out on the streets with panic rising. When peeps were scared, they got crazy. The longer this situation went on, the more crazy they’d get. That was fear for you.

  Plus, Mrs. Wallace was at risk from association with me. If one of my enemies ever hurt her to get at me, I’d go full-on burn-the-world-down mental.

  * * *

  With Mrs. Wallace safely back in her flat, which wasn’t far from me at all, G and me were back in my place.

  I’d checked on the vamps, then returned to my green and white-walled kitchen as the kettle was almost boiled.

  G had two cups ready. “Tea?”

  “Wicked. Cupcake?”

  “I’d love one.”

  Latest baked triumph—salted caramel cupcakes. Absolutely bangin’! They’d come out of night after night of hardcore stress baking. Man, had I beat the life out of the mixture in my mixing bowl. I’d gone through four whisks. Thank the tenshi, I had a whole stash in the cupboard next to the oven.

  But when the hell had I bought that glittery pink one? Oh, well. Was kinda cute.

  While G made the tea, I dished out the cake onto some plates and took a pew at my small table. The beta wolf brought over the tea and sat opposite me. Mercifully, his hoody was now zipped up.

  “Mrs. Wallace is going to get sick if she keeps this up,” he said.

  “I know. But you try stopping her.”

  “Impossible.”

  I nodded as I chewed.

  “Are we still on for the pixie meeting tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Yeah, can’t let her down.”

  Even with all the mystery hanging over my head, I wasn’t about to turn down a hunting gig, though pixies got bitey when they were cornered. Annoying and painful, yeah, but a gig was a gig.

  “Okay,” he replied.

  “Best go to bed soon if we’re gonna be up at the crack of—” I shook my head. “Whatever you wanna call it now.”

  “These cupcakes really are amazing, Aki,” G said after finishing a mouthful.

  “Cool.” I ran a finger along the ring of my teacup. “Where do you think she is—Mama Rita?” It was a stupid question, but there you go.

  “Wish I had the answer,” he replied.

  Was Mama Rita even in London anymore? “Yeah.”

  I’d been completely screwed o
ver by Mama Rita. Years of friendship, of tears and long talks into the night, and laughter, and all those good things that came with being besties, was gone. Dead. She’d set fire to it and let the wind carry the ashes so far away there was no going back.

  Yeah, I was hurt. Real hurt. I missed her, wanted my Mama Rita back. Betrayal is a funny kind of wound. Lives on the inside, leads to anger and hate, but the hurt it brings stings just as bad as the hatred.

  My dad had a watch out on her all over the world. He could do that. The wolves controlled everything, apart from the places outside of his jurisdiction—Australia, New Zealand, and the two Poles. The furry species had won power on a global scale, beating the elves who’d once been in with a chance for the same level of dominance.

  If you were the wolf to ascend to the London seat, you were High Alpha and held the keys to one massive kingdom.

  My dad was that man.

  G would never say it, ‘cos he was the beta, but I could see his loyalties had been tested from the recent revelations about his boss. They were proper messed up, but how did you stroll up to the High Alpha and grill him? It just didn’t work like that.

  The last time I’d actually spoke to Dad directly, and not through G, was in the Charing Cross SCU Station when Zach had been falsely arrested. Shit had got violent, and I’d ended up on the receiving end of it.

  I’d shoved him, and he’d shut me down. The shame still sat in the pit of me. No matter what, having laid a hand on my father was extremely disrespectful. That shame ate at me, even if he’d driven me to it with his attitude, with the memories of the past flaring up every time I was near him. Like how he’d let me get a ton of shit kicked out of me every day by my bullies in my teen days. I couldn’t shift, so I was a target—his son or not.

  “Every fucking day,” I said out loud.

  “Sorry, Aki?” G questioned.

  “Nothing. Just thinking.”

  “Oh.”

  But my mouth wouldn’t stop as I continued to finger the teacup, staring into the brown liquid it held. “Battered. My head dunked in the toilets, shoved into lockers in the corridors, hunted like some piece of meat they could have fun with. Hid in bins, even in lockers ‘cos I was a super-skinny kid. Some of the worst moments were when I was beaten up in the showers after games lessons, left naked and bleeding and crying. They’d spit on me, kick me some more, come down to my level, and yell in my face, mock me.”

  “Aki?”

  “He didn’t care. He didn’t fucking care. And he wanted his other son dead. What about this new kid?” I looked up into G’s face, locked onto those jade pools flecked with gold. “What about my new sibling?”

  My dad’s young new wife, Sarah, was pregnant. I still didn’t know how to feel about it.

  G leaned forward, placing a hand on my forearm. “I’m so sorry.”

  I’d let it all out to him once before—the bullying stuff. One of my bullies, Derek, had been killed by Mama Rita, and I’d just come out with it. Painted an even worse picture of my dear old dad for G. But I couldn’t help it, not in that moment, I’d been…

  Vulnerable.

  Fuck. I hated that word. Sucked. Not me. I couldn’t be that. Not anymore. I’d been it too much in my life, and I’d let the shadows in.

  The dead stars.

  No. I wasn’t thinking about Colin. Not now, and G would never know. I couldn’t. No. Some wounds needed to be left scabbed over.

  Boom. Just like that, I sat up straighter. “Sorry, bruv. Was just having a moment.”

  “You can talk to me whenever you want.” So full of sympathy, empathy, and all that good stuff.

  I didn’t want it.

  “I’m good. Cheers, though.”

  He removed his hand. I wanted it back.

  “Fancy another tea?” I asked.

  “You haven’t finished that one.”

  I knocked it back in one. Thank the tenshi it wasn’t mega-hot, or I’d be causing a right scene. “I’m pretty parched.”

  “Not for me, thanks.” He sipped his still full cup. “I’ll have a shower shortly.”

  “Cool.” I got up and headed in the direction of the kettle. “I’ll jump in after you.”

  “Okay.”

  Fuck tea. That wouldn’t help, not when in this state. There was only one cure that would fix me right up, pull me out of my stupid head.

  Baking.

  Flour. Bowl. Butter. Spoon. Sugar. Eggs. It all started appearing on my work surface.

  “You’re baking?”

  “Yep,” I said over my shoulder. “Fancy making some cupcakes.”

  “I won’t complain at that.”

  I got to work.

  * * *

  Another batch of twelve cupcakes went in the oven as G hit the shower.

  I’d managed to mix myself out of the funk, every fold of my cake batter pushing out the pains of the past, of the present, and leaving me in a chilled state of mind.

  For now.

  I made some notes. The salted caramel cupcakes were a triumph. Now, for the next challenge. I was thinking about some cookies. What flavors? Apricot and white chocolate? Pineapple rather than apricot? Strawberry?

  Aha! Rhubarb and custard cookies! Yes! I’d get to work on that ASAP!

  I had a peek out the kitchen window. All quiet down on the streets, just Ally and Drew and some passing traffic. No more photographers coming after the High Alpha’s son. They were bored with me again, more interested in my dad and the moon. Good. Liked that they generally kept away. The spotlight could go screw itself.

  With the cupcakes cooking away, I poured myself a glass of water, and parked my buns on a chair, listening to the running water of the shower—the bathroom was right next door to my kitchen.

  Chill moment. My mind, thank the tenshi, was empty. And I had to thank them, our creators, ‘cos that was the right thing to do. Thank them for the breath in my body, for G, but also pray for guidance.

  I had my gold tenshi candle with me at the table. I caressed the white engraving of 祈り(prayer), then lit the wick, and let the prayers gently flow out of me, up into the heavenly places I’d see one day.

  The bathroom door opened, and G stepped out, a cloud of steam wafting all around him. He had a towel tied around his waist, and he went straight into the living room. For that brief moment, I got another glimpse of that body again.

  What the fuck?

  I needed to shut this shit down.

  Shower time.

  Yep.

  Wash away the bullshit.

  I zipped across the kitchen to the beginning of the short hallway, not taking a peek through the slightly ajar living room door ‘cos why would I? Only someone who was, like, obsessed with G would do that. Right? Yeah. Course. I wasn’t gonna perv on my buddy.

  Practically diving into the small bathroom, I leaned against the door, catching a breath for about ten minutes, proper zoned out in the dying steam being sucked out of the open window.

  When I came to, and my legs were working again, I stripped off, grabbing a towel from the overstuffed linen cupboard. My shower was positioned over the bath, so I popped my naked arse into the tub and turned on the taps.

  This would do me so much good, like the baking. Too much shit making me all blah! Hated blah. Wanted focus.

  Hot water good.

  Scrubbing myself down with a bar of soap, my eyes closed, my cock started to feel the good feels. I was horny as fuck after all. Needed some dose of arse and the d, to feel a man’s lips on mine, his hands going everywhere, maybe even some stubble rubbing my cheek or something. All of it. Give me all the manly goodies.

  Gabriel.

  G.

  If he wasn’t around, I didn’t know what I’d do.

  G.

  He’d been in this shower about ten minutes before me.

  G.

  That dick, that body, the memory of his lips on mine. The way he always smelled like Christmas, all orange and cinnamon, the way he looked at me with his perfect gree
n eyes.

  That body…

  I slid my hand down my flat stomach, taking hold of my erection. I stroked, eyes closed, body needing this, G on my mind. Fuck it. I couldn’t resist, I let it all flood me as I cupped my balls with my other hand.

  Yes…

  That body.

  In my mind, he was in this cramped space with me, my tongue going everywhere, exploring every sexy contour he had to offer.

  Yes…

  Fuck! I was racing to the edge. My rhythm was frantic as I pumped my cock, my breathing rapid, my heartbeat going wild. Fucking yes! Yes!

  A knock on the door right at the big finish!

  “Aki?”

  Holy fuck! The cum burst out of me in powerful jets as I cried, “Won’t be long!” Talk about high-pitched. At least I hadn’t shouted ‘I’m coming!’ or some shit like that.

  I bit back another cry of pleasure. I wanted a proper roar, to exclaim all the fucking wonders of having my first orgasm in what felt like ages. My balls were drained of everything, robbed of the juice.

  “Just making sure you’re okay,” he answered.

  I fell back against the tiles and slid down into the bath, proper spent and breathless, letting the cooling water beat down on my head.

  Shit.

  I’d just wanked over G.

  It’d felt so good, despite his shit timing.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  * * *

  Checking the coast was clear, I darted down the hallway to my bedroom with a towel wrapped around my waist.

  With as much speed as I could muster, my shoulder-length hair dripping down my naked back, I grabbed some shorts and a T-shirt. Clothed and safe, I gave my hair a rough towel dry in front of my wardrobe mirror.

  I stared at myself, wondering how I was gonna look G in the eye after knocking one out to him. It didn’t mean anything, though. He was hot, I was horny. What was wrong with a secret wank between friends? Well, between me and me, not really him.

  Fuck.

  I let my hair hang messy and loose, leaning into the mirror to check my eyes. Sleep didn’t last many hours lately, but I’d still managed to avoid bloodshot eyes. Yep, no crimson patches next to my brown irises. The gold flecks, part of my wolfy nature, looked pretty bright, though. Probably a remnant from the wanking.