Five Moons Rising

by Lise MacTague

  Malice shook her head sharply to dispel the image of her hand on the back of Carla’s head, of dark curls twining around her fingers as Carla knelt before her, mouth at the juncture of her thighs. “That’s not what I came here for.” Her voice was cold, but Carla grinned at her, eyeteeth in full extension. “Stop that.”

  “Stop what?” Carla’s smile dropped easily into a small moue, lips pursed in a devastating pout. She slid her hand to the inside of Malice’s thigh, her thumb brushing over her crotch. Against her better judgment and completely out of her control, Malice felt her pussy clench and she stifled a gasp. Of course Carla heard the change in her breathing. With delicate precision, she dragged her nails down the fabric covering Malice’s mound. Heat raced through Malice’s belly and pooled between her legs. She could feel herself getting damp and she closed her thighs. She hadn’t even noticed they’d fallen open.

  “I said stop.” Malice glared down at Carla, who stared back at her, smiles and pouts gone. “You’re trying to influence me. I won’t have it.”

  “I am doing no such thing.” Carla pulled back her hand from where it was trapped between Malice’s thighs, but not before fluttering her fingers. Arousal shot through her, stoking the fire at her center. This time the gasp escaped her lips. “You don’t seem that unhappy about it.”

  Cursing her traitorous body, Malice closed her eyes. Even so, Carla’s eyes floated before her, the pupils so big she could fall into them, peering into her, seeing too much, weighing and sorting. “You can’t take me against my will.”

  “Believe me, darling,” Carla said, “if I wanted to take you, it wouldn’t be against your will.” Malice’s eyes popped open in anger. Carla’s voice had been light, and her eyes sparkled with amusement. Slowly, the pupils were dilating.

  “I didn’t come here to be mauled by you.” At the gentle snort of amusement, Malice felt her face warm, but she pushed on. “I need some information and you’re going to give it to me.”

  “You know the price, sweetling. Pay up, then we’ll talk.”

  “Why don’t we just call it even? I don’t behead you for trying to push me into your arms. That’s pretty damn close to taking the unwilling.”

  “If you insist,” Carla murmured, “but I won’t talk without payment. And feel free to behead me. The next Lord of Chicago is not likely to be as accommodating to your kind as I am.”

  Malice stared at Carla. A muscle jumped in her jaw. The vampire had a point. For a long moment she sat, not moving except for the angry tic at her jawline. Finally, she got up and crossed over to a long sideboard opposite the mammoth desk.

  “You don’t have to do it that way.” Carla’s voice floated over to her, barely audible. “I would really prefer it from the source.”

  Unbidden, excitement filled Malice again. Ruthlessly, she forced it down and picked up a crystal brandy snifter. With the knife from the top of her combat boot, she sliced a cut deep into the palm of her left hand. She hissed a little bit at the pain and the fog of arousal immediately dissipated, leaving her feeling completely clear-headed for the first time since entering the room. A crimson rivulet trickled down her hand and she held it over the glass, filling it with bright red blood. Deep though the cut had been, the flow of blood lasted only long enough to fill the snifter with a finger of liquid.

  Carla sat up straight, all seductiveness absent from her pose. She watched the glass in Malice’s hand seemingly to the exclusion of all else. Her nostrils flared at the metallic smell of blood permeating the air.

  “Where did the North Side pack relocate?”

  The vampire’s gaze flicked from the glass to her face, then back. That couldn’t have been fear flitting across her face, could it?

  “For that information, you’ll need to let me feed from the source,” Carla said finally.

  “That won’t happen.” Malice watched the vampire, who glared back at her, never moving a muscle.

  “Then I’m afraid we have nothing further to talk about.”

  Carla’s steady gaze unnerved her. Malice turned on her heel; she paced the length of the room, the rapidly cooling snifter of blood forgotten in her hand. The thrill of the vampire’s quiet statement scared her more than the idea of actually being bitten, but she needed the information. Uncle Ralph expected results and if she didn’t produce them, he would call in reinforcements. That hadn’t happened yet, and she was determined that it wouldn’t.

  “You know that by trying to force me to host you, I have a green light to kill you, right?”

  The slightly lifted shoulder conveyed Carla’s unconcern. “No one is forcing you to do anything, Malice.” This time Carla bit off the last syllable of her name, her only indication of irritation. “But I won’t say anything without it. I’ve been waiting a long time to sample you directly. You’re asking me to risk a lot. It’s only fair that you should risk a little something of your own.” This time it was Carla who licked her lips. Her pupils had swallowed her eyes until only the barest hint of white remained in the corners. “The new Alpha of the North Side pack is rapidly consolidating power. So far he’s content to keep to his own kind. If he finds out where your information came from, he may change his mind.”

  “It’s not like I’m going to have a conversation with him,” Malice said. Fuck. Am I resisting because I don’t want her to feed from me, or because I do? Malice kept pacing, stalling desperately. On her next pass, the vampire reached forward and placed a cool hand on her arm, halting Malice in her tracks. Without a word, Carla plucked the glass from her hand and lifted it to her lips, sipping at the blood inside.

  “We don’t want it to get too much colder.” With a dainty finger, Carla wiped away the crimson residue on her lips, then stuck the finger in her mouth before drawing it out slowly while holding Malice with her eyes.

  “Fine, then.” Sternly, she told herself that she wasn’t capitulating because she wanted to feel the vampire’s mouth on her. The warm dampness between her thighs made a mockery of her mental admonishment. Damn the vampire and her powers of persuasion. Between one blink and the next, Carla was behind her, pressing her breasts against Malice’s back. Her presence threatened to overwhelm Malice and with great effort, she pushed Carla out of her head. The vampire’s presence lay over her mind like a blanket over a parrot’s cage, clouding her thoughts and ensuring her compliance. With a twist, Malice moved away and held up one hand.

  “Don’t tell me you’re changing your mind already, sweetling.” Carla moved forward until Malice’s hand pressed between her pert breasts.

  “I know what you’re trying to do.” Malice tried not to think about how close her fingers were to the vampire’s nipples. Her fingers twitched slightly against her will. “If you want what I can offer, you’re going to have to take it honestly. I don’t want you rolling me. I want to be aware during the…process.”

  “I never pegged you for a masochist.” Carla’s lips curled coyly. “It’ll be so much better for you if you let me take your mind completely.”

  Let her take my mind completely? It was good to know that Chicago’s strongest vampire couldn’t roll her without her consent, but what about normal humans? If they could cloud human thoughts, even a bit, it didn’t bode well for how the vampires were feeding. They were treading perilously close to the edge of taking without consent, if that was the case.

  “You won’t be taking anything until we talk. You receive your payment once I’ve received the information.”

  With one more pout at being thwarted, Carla turned and crossed the room back to the chaise longue, but not before leaning into Malice’s hand on the way by. She could clearly feel Carla’s stiffened nipple, straining through the fabric and into her palm.

  “So, the North Side pack.” Carla patted the seat next to her again. This time, Malice took her up on the invitation and settled next to her, back stiff. “Their Alpha is no more.”

  “I know. I saw his corpse. Or rather, what was left of it.”

  “It’s too bad,
really. Dean was an agreeable rival. He made sure our spheres of influence did little to cross. I’m not convinced that the new Alpha will be so collegial.” Her fingers traced complex patterns on the top of Malice’s thigh. She worked to keep her leg muscles from twitching at the attention but could do nothing to suppress the tension coiling in her abdomen.

  “So who is this new Alpha?” To her surprise, her voice didn’t waver.

  “A lone wolf, or rather a former lone wolf. His name is MacTavish, but I don’t know his first name. No one seems to. He’s a brute and he’s been through this way many times before. The last was six or seven months ago.” Carla leaned her head on Malice’s shoulder. The cool weight felt strange, though not altogether disagreeable.

  “Seven months ago?” The time frame might be important, but Carla’s body against hers distracted Malice from chasing the thought down.

  “Mmm.” The soft assent vibrated against Malice’s neck. Carla nuzzled at the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder. “They’ve moved to the west side, near the Des Plaines River. He’s moved them into an abandoned trucking hub by the airport.”

  “I need an address.”

  “Of course you do, darling.” With one hand, Carla yanked down the neck of Malice’s sweater, tearing it open and exposing her chest to the sternum. Malice could only watch as the vampire lowered her head to the top of her right breast. Carla shoved her bra straps aside with hasty fingers; then sharp pain pierced her breast.

  “Oh god,” Malice panted. The words were ripped from her, pain quickly turning to enjoyment. Her nipples ached, the tips pushing against the fabric of her bra, demanding attention Carla was only too happy to give them. Malice moaned when the appreciative vampire rubbed the pads of her thumbs over the proud protuberances, sending another shock of sensation coursing down her torso to join the tempest building in her belly.

  She was close to coming, Malice realized, her hips twitching, thrusting in time with each gentle stroke of Carla’s thumbs. Just like that, she’d lost control of the encounter. Dimly, she wondered why that was so important. Just let go, a voice whispered. You know you want to.

  No. Without any thought beyond getting a grip on herself, Malice bit down hard on the inside of her lip. The pain cleared her head, as did the taste of salt and metal that bathed her tongue.

  “Take your payment,” Malice said harshly. “Nothing more.” She captured Carla’s hands in both of hers and drew them away from her breasts.

  The vampire made a small noise of displeasure but kept sucking. Her tongue worked against the small wound in Malice’s breast, lapping at the blood that pooled so quickly a small amount escaped. A thin scarlet rivulet trickled down her cleavage and stained the white sports bra.

  With a shock that almost undid her tenuous self-control, Malice watched as the vampire unzipped the side of her skirt and slid her hand down the front. Carla’s hips rose and fell in time with her sucking. Unable to pull her gaze away and more turned on than she could ever remember being before, Malice watched as the vampire brought herself higher and higher, finally coming silently but hard. Her teeth bit down harshly on Malice’s breast and she gasped. Her pussy throbbed, demanding attention, to be stroked, filled and fucked. She bit down on her lip again, keeping her mouth clamped shut. Malice didn’t trust herself not to beg Carla to take her.

  The vampire’s teeth disengaged and she lifted her head, looking down at Malice’s chest. Instead of the round punctures Malice had expected, the holes were long, two rents that still sluggishly oozed blood. They had already started healing. She became aware of the wound on her palm and clenched it experimentally. It was a little sore, but she could tell it was closed. On a normal human, the cut would look three to four days old.

  “I could have given you such pleasure, Malice.” Carla’s voice held a tinge of regret. She lifted her head and looked into Malice’s eyes. Malice had the uncomfortable feeling the vampire gazed into the very seat of her being. “Why don’t you let yourself go, just a little bit? You’d be so much happier if you did.”

  “I’m doing just fine, thanks.”

  “Are you? Really? Tell me the truth, Malice. Human sex just doesn’t do it for you anymore, does it? You’re looking for something else. Something more.” The shock of the vampire’s statement hadn’t set in when Carla fastened her lips to hers. Malice tasted her blood on the vampire’s tongue as it swept into her mouth. For the barest second, she accepted Carla, kissing her back with a passion she hadn’t felt in far too long.

  Abruptly, Malice stood up, practically dumping the vampire on the floor. Carla had been half in her lap by the time she regained her senses.

  “Thanks for the information.” Not sparing Carla a backward glance, she strode to the door. Once again, it opened without her touching it. The stairs beyond the office were empty. Malice took the steps two at a time, eager to be gone from the woman who was causing her such confusion.

  When did Carla become the “woman”? she wondered. Instead of the “vampire”?

  Chapter Seven

  Something upstairs creaked and popped. Ruri tensed before realizing it was nothing more than the normal sounds of an old house settling. The abandoned bungalow suited her needs perfectly. The neighborhood hadn’t been great to begin with, and had been half cleared out by the recession and never recovered. The area inhabitants had long ago trained themselves not to pay too much attention to their neighbors. So far no one seemed to have noticed her squatting in one of the street’s many abandoned houses. The little nest she’d built herself in the corner of the basement had all the amenities of home with none of the comfort. Cinderblock walls on two sides were comforting, but nothing could substitute for her missing packmates. At night, when she missed them most, Ruri distracted herself by planning the complete gutting and remodeling of this house. As a strategy, it worked better some evenings than others.

  Now that she was on her own, Ruri needed as much safety as she could provide for herself. Above the narrow cot she’d scavenged from the alley was a small window. It was the perfect escape route. She hadn’t used it yet. If someone from the old pack tracked her down, she didn’t want them to know about it. If it smelled like her, they’d set somebody on it for sure.

  It was a boring life so far. She hunkered down in the basement until dark and only then ventured back out into the city. The solitude was the worst part. With little to distract her, Ruri’s mind retraced the well-worn path of doubt and recrimination. Why hadn’t she taken more notice of the sudden rash of newly turned and abandoned wolven? Dean hadn’t seemed too concerned with their appearance, choosing instead to focus on integrating them into the pack. She should have known better. Security was her responsibility.

  Had Wyatt been a plant? He’d proven himself so quickly and so eagerly. He earned his place as a member of Dean’s bodyguard. If it had been anyone else, a wolven not so engaging who didn’t look at her with a combination of hero worship and intense respect, would she have moved them into such an important detail so quickly?

  And Brittney. What was there to say about Brittney that she hadn’t already told herself a thousand times before? There was clear evidence of her betrayal. Ruri scrunched her eyes shut as if that could block out the remembered spray of blood as Raquel’s throat was ripped open. Brittney was her biggest failure, and to her mind the linchpin in all the events that had gone wrong that day. Without their relationship, Britt wouldn’t have had such easy access to Dean. She’d obviously drugged them, either in the coffee or the cookies or both. Without those limitations, Dean would have made short work of MacTavish. His coup would have been over even as it began. But no, Ruri had trusted the traitorous wolven, had loved her even. And where did it get her?

  This isn’t helping. It wasn’t the first time, or the tenth time, or even the hundredth time she’d told herself that. That it was true didn’t make the admonishment any more effective. She needed a distraction, needed to do something about what had befallen her pack.

  R
uri glanced up at the westward-facing window. The sky was still light, but only barely. Carefully, Ruri stood up and stretched. Her shoulder still ached. At ten days since her injury, it should have been merely the memory of pain, but stiffness continued to plague her.

  She rotated the sensitive joint, trying to work out the kinks. When she reached over to massage it, the inside of her arm brushed across her breast, sending tingles radiating from the sensitive nipple. Ruri closed her eyes in an unhappy combination of arousal and frustration. Her monthly heat was almost upon her. Her stomach dropped at the realization. How the hell was she going to deal with it now? Britt was with MacTavish. She swallowed a howl of anger; all that leaked out was a pitiful whine.

  Carefully, trying not to move too quickly in deference to her injured shoulder, Ruri stripped her clothes to don fresher ones that didn’t stink quite so badly. Even in her den, she couldn’t relax. She had to be ready to go at the first sign of trouble. The smell that wafted off the soiled clothing tickled her sensitive nose, and she quashed a sneeze that promised to be explosive. She would have to wash them and soon. Fortunately, her other set wasn’t quite so pungent. It wouldn’t do to track down her pack in clothes they would smell a couple of miles away.

  She wished she could shift to go after them. She’d been tracking them for days and had finally narrowed their new territory down to an industrial park in the northwestern suburbs. A wolf would be very out of place in that area. There existed next to no cover for her among the concrete parking lots, chain-link fences and squat factory buildings. The only green there was on small patches of lawn.

  Feeling prepared, though not confident, Ruri crossed the basement and opened a small window. By now, it was completely dark. No one would see her as she slithered her way out of the basement. Thick plywood boards remained on the other windows and on all the doors. She’d left them in place so her presence wasn’t trumpeted to the rest of the neighborhood. Away from the close dampness of her squat, Ruri inhaled, letting fresh air cleanse lingering mustiness from her nostrils.