Crave: A Paranormal Shifter Romance (Blood Moon, Texas Shifters Series Book 2)

by Kat Kinney

  His expression gentled. “Nothing’s going to happen to me, Lacey.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “Pretty sure we burned that bridge the first night we hooked up.”

  “Maybe the effects show up earlier in Bittens than in Borns.”

  “I’ll take my chances.” Taking me by the arm, he hustled me into the bathroom, started the water running in the tub and poured in a capful of vanilla scented bubble bath. “In the meantime, you, me and Fancy are going over to my place. You can have your bath first, but no way am I leaving you here alone with a busted door and an empty fridge. You can ride up front with Fancy, or I can hog-tie you and throw you in the trunk. Your choice.”

  I growled. Leaning against the doorjamb, he folded his arms.

  Half an hour later I was dressed in a thick Irish fisherman sweater over leggings and fleece-lined boots, Godiva perched in her carrier as Dallas drove us back through town. It was an hour past dark, the downtown district in full holiday-chaos mode with the last night of the Yule Festival. Lighted wreaths and garlands had been strung from the lamp posts. Bell ringers stood on every corner. Stray snow flurries swirled down as throngs of tourists and shoppers crowded the sidewalks, sipping hot chocolate and poking their heads into shops. My phone chimed.

  Mom: Full moon tonight. Did you take the garlic supplements?

  Me: Someone’s been binge-watching Twilight, I see.

  Mom: Very funny. I’ve been reading that vampires coordinate their attacks with werewolves because their populations are so small.

  Me: Find me any fantasy series ever where that is true and I’ll bring you over cupcakes.

  Me: Extra garlicky ones.

  Mom: Don’t sass your mother.

  Mom: I also have a lead on a company fast-tracking a taser calibrated specifically for shifter.

  Me: Do they come in pink?

  Mom: I feel like you’re not taking this seriously.

  “I don’t trust London Blake.”

  Dallas let his head thump back against the seat. Traffic had slowed to a crawl. “Brody doesn’t want to make that call yet. I told him to have River hack into her phone, find out everywhere she’s been in the past forty-eight hours, but he’s not sold on the idea that even if everything we got off the thumb drive is bogus, she could have infected you at the handoff two days ago without getting sick herself. Plus, the Council tested you how many times? Your blood counts came back normal.”

  “We have no reason to trust her. It was her pack that was trafficking humans out of Austin, her pack that was coordinating with the vampires from the start.”

  “If you’re right, it means she’s been playing Brody this entire time, pretending she wants to bring the covens down.”

  “When she’s really their mole.”

  A call came in from The Spoke. Dallas took it on hands free. “Yeah. Hey, Javier. What’s going on?”

  My phone chimed.

  Naomi: Ran your blood. Vitamin deficiency. You still heading to Dallas’s? I can be there in fifteen.

  Me: To cook me a big juicy steak?

  Naomi: LOL! Think big shot in the tush. But it should resolve your symptoms immediately.

  Naomi: There’s something else I want to talk to you about, too.

  Outside, we were just passing the park. A giant fifteen-foot tree decorated by the local schools had been set up by the gazebo. Beside it, volunteers from the high school band were organizing the annual pet costume contest and picture taking with Santa.

  Dallas swore, ending the call. “That was Javier. A bunch of college guys came in from partying all day out at the lake. There was a fight out in the parking lot. One of them fell. Hit their head. Cops are on scene.”

  We turned the corner, his house coming into view. He’d gone all out with the decorations this year. Multicolored lights were strung along the edge of the roof, the columns along the porch wrapped in strands of plain white twinkly lights that glittered like stars. It was the first December that I could remember when he’d made the effort.

  “Naomi just texted. She’s on her way over.”

  Dallas listened wordlessly while I explained about the vitamin deficiency, then checked his phone. Swore. “I should really go in for a bit. Handle this. Should only be an hour or two.” Our eyes met. “Promise me you’ll stay on the couch watching reality TV. I’ll bring home takeout and we can light the fireplace.”

  “And put on A Charlie Brown Christmas.”

  “It’s a date.”

  After making sure Godiva and I made it up the porch steps, he backed down the drive, the ruby red glow of his taillights disappearing at the end of the block.

  The cat-safe Christmas tree Dallas had put up in the large bay window up front by the street was decorated with fat old-fashioned lights and glittery plastic balls. I leaned back against the front door and inhaled, taking in the scent of blue spruce, gingerbread cookies and werewolf. In the kitchen, I let Godiva out of her carrier, set out her bowl of water and some dry food, and poured myself a cold glass of milk. A cardboard box from Blair’s sat out on the counter. Inside were an assortment of the Christmas cookies our team of elves had been decorating all week, gingerbread men with red-frosted Santa hats and smiling gingerwolves. Taking a gingerwolf, I nibbled thoughtfully on its tail, something London had said back at the park nagging at me.

  We know males carry a higher viral count than females and that everyone’s numbers spike each month at the full moon. This biologic agent stops the lycan virus from over-replicating. Basically, it suppresses viral load so that a shifter under the influence of the drug would be temporarily unable to shift, unable to heal, unable to properly defend themselves in a fight.

  And if we took that thinking one step further, unable to infect others.

  Why would the vampires develop a drug that suppressed the lycan virus? Sure, there were potential advantages if it was deployed during a fight, but was it that much better than silver or wolfsbane? Potentially it was longer lasting, but it also came at an exorbitant cost.

  I took another bite of cookie, pulse picking up.

  A drug like this wouldn’t benefit vampires. A drug like this, one that targeted the lycan virus and reduced viral load, would benefit the hundreds of werewolves who went feral every full moon, most of them male. It would benefit the families who suffered while watching their loved ones lost to feral insanity, powerless to help. It would have helped Ethan, who’d suffered for years with silver addiction, the only known therapy once one’s wolf began to gain control of the human mind. It would help August, one of the marginalized few who suffered with an autoimmune sickness brought on by lycanthropy that medical science had no way to treat. This biologic agent had cost hundreds of millions of dollars to develop. Why would the vampires ever make the effort? The answer was simple.

  They wouldn’t.

  But we would.

  The only question remaining was why the werewolf council was pretending to know nothing about Project Eclipse when I would have bet every cent in my bank account that they were the ones who’d developed it in the first place.

  I jumped a foot at the sound of the doorbell.

  “Hey,” Naomi said. She had on a dark red wool coat over a retro tee from one of the funky coffee shops down in Austin. She shoved her phone into her coat pocket and shifted her messenger bag of medical supplies to her other shoulder. “Let’s get the bad part over with.”

  Ten minutes later, I was good as new. Better than new. As in, was it so terrible that I was covertly looking for my favorite kiwi-green track shoes even though it was currently snowing out?

  “Wow. How many espressos were in that thing?” I joked while Naomi packed everything back in her bag.

  “I know, right? They should really come with a punch card and a free biscotti. We’ll need to repeat the shot every fourteen days for at least the next three months depending on your blood levels.”

  “That sounds, um, serious?” Godiva streaked past the open doorway, making a b
eeline for the kitchen. Would it be weird to ask Naomi to check and make sure I hadn’t bitten her in my cupcake-induced rage?

  “No, but your test results showed one other thing.” A little crease formed in her brow. “Did you know you were pregnant?”

  My heart kicked in my chest. “I’m not. I mean, I’m sure I’m not. I took a test. Actually, I took two of them.”

  Naomi’s voice softened. “Those tests you get at the drugstore aren’t calibrated for shifters.”

  I didn’t hear what she said next. Wasn’t sure if I even answered. At some point much later I found myself alone, a cup of peppermint tea I hadn’t made warming my hands, a plate of gingerbread cookies beside me on the coffee table. Heart pounding, I set the mug of tea down. The jittery feeling from earlier squeezed my chest until it felt like I could barely breathe. I got up, pacing from the big bay window overlooking the street back through the front hallway, around the kitchen island and into the living room. Shaking uncontrollably, I covered my mouth. Blood roared in my ears, the walls of Dallas’s house threatening to close in around me. I had to get out, had to go—

  The next thing I knew, I was out on the sidewalk. The freezing night air stung my cheeks, flecks of sleet sticking to my eyelashes. I blinked, brushing them off, and was surprised when my fingers came away wet. Red and white Christmas lights had turned the old pecans lining the sidewalks of the downtown district into a procession of candy canes. A gust of wind scattered fallen leaves along the sidewalk, bringing with it the rich scent of espresso and cinnamon. Warm, buttery light spilled from the windows of open shops as I passed, holiday music piped over the outdoor speakers as shoppers juggled bags of books, cinnamon-vanilla scented candles and stuffed bears waiting to be unwrapped under a tree.

  Across from the park, a line of customers snaked away from a food truck, a couple in plaid wool scarves and knit hats stealing kisses as they waited for hot chocolate and eggnog lattes on a cold winter night. A little girl, five or six, tugged on her mother’s hand to ask for cocoa. Tears burned the backs of my eyes, pressure I had fought against for so long threatening to break me in two.

  I ended up in an alley behind Main Street, huddled on cold cement steps as a light dusting of snow swirled down. The stars were completely obscured, as if all the bright places left in the world had winked out one by one. This wasn’t happening, couldn’t be real. I couldn’t be pregnant. I wrapped my arms around my middle. Everyone around me got hurt. How could I ever protect a child?

  The door across the alley banged open. A familiar figure, dressed in what could only be called holiday goth with a short black mini skirt, fishnets, red Doc Martens and a zombie Christmas tee under a black apron printed with Dark’s logo stalked out to the dumpsters. The light from the open door spilled over me.

  “Bloody hell!” Hayden shouted, dropping the trash bag. “Call out next time.”

  When I didn’t answer, she came over and crouched down beside me. “You know everyone is out looking for you, right?”

  She pulled her phone from her apron pocket. I grabbed her wrist.

  “Don’t. I can’t go back there. Not yet.”

  Her frown deepened. “Did something happen?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  When tears filled my eyes, she hauled me up by the arm. “Okay. But I’m not freezing my tits off out here and neither are you.”

  The inside of Dark had been tricked out for the holidays. They’d gone a little heavy on the flashing blue and white lights and a jagged icicle effect that had more of a club lighting vibe than anything that screamed gingerbread men or candy cane wielding elves, but hey, this was Ethan and Hayden. What had I expected?

  Hayden steered me over to a small round table in the corner.

  Shutting off the grinders, Ethan came over. “Dallas has been looking everywhere for you.”

  “She’s slumming it here with us for a little while.” Hayden flipped her long black hair over one shoulder.

  “He’s pretty freaked out. Maybe you should—”

  “Can’t you see she’s upset?” Hayden flashed him her patented death glare. “Just give us a minute.”

  Ethan frowned, seeming to take in my red eyes and puffy cheeks for the first time. I pulled a napkin from the dispenser, folding and unfolding it. When two mugs of steaming hot cocoa appeared, accompanied by a plate of croissants with a dish of honey butter, I jumped a foot.

  “Look, I don’t want to get in the middle of anything,” he said quietly, “but Dallas sent out a group text. Said you’re not answering your phone.”

  “I must have left it at his place. I wasn’t thinking straight when I left. I just… had to get out of there.”

  “So let’s call him.”

  “No.”

  When Ethan frowned, I quickly amended, “I just… had to get out of there. I’ll call. I swear. I just need a minute. Please.”

  The napkin was in shreds beside my mug of cocoa. Great. I was losing it.

  He looked down. “Did something… shit, I don’t even want to ask this, but did you and my brother, did he—”

  “No,” I said quietly. “Dallas would never hurt me.”

  Hayden glowered. “Tell Dallas I heard from her and she’s safe. That’s all he needs to know for right now.”

  They held a silent conversation with their eyes, and then with a growl, Ethan left us alone. Hayden twirled a peppermint stick through her hot chocolate.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I sipped my cocoa. It was an explosion of chocolate and cream. Sweet and delicious. “Have you ever told a lie, something really unforgivable, and known the day would eventually come when you’d no longer be able to outrun the truth?”

  Hayden buttered a croissant and shoved it across the table at me. “If this is your way of telling me you killed someone and need me to help you dispose of the body—”

  Rolling my eyes, I tore off a bite of the croissant and stuffed it into my mouth. Rich, buttery flaky pastry melted over my tongue. “Like we both don’t know I’d be doing the digging while you took selfies.”

  “Savage.” She ran her fingers over the dark blue daisy tattooed along the length of her forearm. “Seriously, though. You know people here would have your back. I’d have your back. Even if I took a few selfies along the way. Maybe it’s time you let someone in.”

  I stared down at the fat gooey marshmallows dissolving in a lake of chocolate. “Everyone around me gets hurt. Dallas. My mom. I’ve never been able to keep any of them safe. And now—”

  I curled my arms around my middle. Her pale blue eyes widened with understanding. “Are you—"

  I nodded, the cocoa blurring as my eyes filled with unshed tears.

  “Oh, wow.”

  “Yeah.” I wiped my eyes on my sleeve. I had to pull it together. I was so not the girl who fell apart like this. “I’m just sort of freaking out right now.”

  “Just tell me what you need and I’m there.” She reached for my hand, starting to say something else, but before she could, tires screeched against asphalt. We both whipped around in time to see Dallas’s SUV roar up to the curb.

  I swore.

  Hayden shot out of her chair and stormed over to her husband, eyes blazing. “I can’t believe you.”

  Ethan tore off his apron, coming around the counter. “He’s my brother. I just wanted him to know she was okay.”

  “Yeah. Looks like he got the message.”

  “Stay here,” he growled. “I’ll deal with Dallas.”

  Right. Ethan and Dallas. What could possibly go wrong?

  Hayden and I bolted after him. We were just rounding the counter when her phone rang.

  “Shit. Yeah, Cal, he’s here.” She lowered her voice. “You’d better hurry.”

  I burst outside. The cold air stung my cheeks like a thousand shards of glass, the wind swirling my hair into my eyes.

  Dallas leaped up onto the sidewalk, eyes glowing a feral gold as he raked me over. His breath ca
me in low, shallow pants, and I saw the instant worry was replaced with anger and hurt.

  “You okay?”

  I wrapped my arms around myself. “Fine.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Thought you were gonna stay at the house.”

  I glared. He was pissed. But newsflash, so was I.

  “For real? Crazy possessive stalker is not a good look on you.”

  Jaw clenched, Dallas whirled on his brother. “West and I have been out combing half the county and you’re telling me she’s been here this entire time? What the actual fuck, Emo?”

  Ethan held up both hands. “Think we all need to calm down.”

  “You had your phone, right? You knew we were all worried sick, that I thought she could be hurt somewhere, dead.”

  “That’s why I sent the text. To let you know she was safe.”

  “Safe.” Dallas slammed his brother back against the side of the building. “Safe here with you, huh? Just not with me.”

  I didn’t see who threw the first punch, only that a second later, Ethan had thrown Dallas into the side of the building. Someone shouted. Dallas slammed his fist into his brother’s stomach just as Hayden ran out onto the sidewalk. I elbowed my way through all the onlookers who’d gathered to watch the spectacle, nearly getting flattened when Ethan grabbed Dallas by the front of his shirt in an attempt to hurl him to the ground.

  “Get Ethan,” I shouted to Hayden over the fray.

  She swore but nodded. We lunged. Ever watched calf roping at the rodeo? Picture that, but with no rope, and two pissed off bulls that outweigh you by close to a hundred pounds. Hayden threw herself onto Ethan’s back. I hooked an arm around Dallas’s chest and yanked him towards the street, only to nearly get clocked in the head by Ethan for my efforts. Bull #2? Oh yeah, totally saw that. Howling in rage, Dallas slammed his brother to the pavement.

  Hayden jumped back just in time. “We need West and Cal.”

  I closed my eyes. If she got hurt, or if I did, that was endgame. They would never forgive each other. Never. I had to end this. And there was only one way. I took a deep breath.