Moon Chaser 03 - To Crave a Blood Moon

by Sharie Kohler

  “No.” She shook her head. He was the first person she ever felt this way with—it was him. “It’s not that. It’s me. You.”

  “You only think—”

  She cut him off again. “I want it to be right.” She motioned to the bed.

  He started to remove his hand from her face. She grabbed his wrist, fingers circling the hard bones. She turned her face, pressing a desperate kiss to the center of his palm. Opening her mouth, she tasted his salty skin with her tongue.

  He swallowed, his throat working, voice strangled. “It can’t erase the last time.”

  “Last time wasn’t… bad,” she quickly asserted. Just desperate. Wild.

  And there had been the fear, the overhanging threat that he could snap and possibly surrender to his hunger.

  She shook her head. Maybe he was right and she did want to wipe out the memory of the first time. Who cared? It didn’t change her wanting him, needing him right now.

  “Just show me how it can be,” she whispered. His eyes scanned her face for a long moment before he moved. Just a fraction. Indecision warred inside of him, his dark eyes gleaming.

  Sweet torment. Craving.

  Gratification curled through her. He wanted her. He could not resist.

  Her heart hammered a violent tempo as his head dipped. His mouth was inches from hers when the explosion rocked the night.

  They jumped apart, swinging to face the window, staring out at the burst of red-gold against the city skyline.

  “It’s done,” he murmured, and she sensed his concern. His fervent desire for the others to be safe. She prayed for the same. For all of them to be safe… especially Lily and Luc. They had probably saved her life, plucking her off the streets when they did.

  She felt Sebastian turn, felt his stare on the side of her face as she gazed out at the city, at the great plume of smoke, several shades lighter than the night sky, twisting up between the crowded rooftops and domes of the ancient city.

  “Ruby.”

  Her name fell like a hush in a churchyard. Solemn. Sad.

  She faced him.

  “Your eyes.”

  Her fingers flew to her cheek. “What—”

  He shook his head. “They’re the same.”

  Her heart constricted. The same. Silver, he meant. She was still a lycan. Gunter was not killed in the explosion.

  Ruby turned to look out at the city. He was out there. Somewhere. “We’ll never find him.” I’ll be this way forever.

  All the relief she had felt, the exhilaration at knowing it would all end tonight vanished.

  She took several steps away from Sebastian, the gulf between them back again. A yawning pit. Luc and Lily were able to live together, one as a lycan and one as a dovenatu, but Ruby did not kid herself. Sebastian wasn’t Luc. And she wasn’t Lily. They were not in love. Even if he lusted for her, she knew enough of men to know that desire was a fleeting emotion, and one they felt toward many women. It did not mean anything. She was a lycan. The very thing he spent a lifetime hunting and destroying. That’s all that mattered now.

  “We’ll never find him,” she said. “And I’ll not stay here looking. I’ve had enough of this place.”

  She was going home. She knew enough to know that she could take precautions. Like Lily. Even without a husband to watch over her, she would manage. She would ask Adele to help.

  “You can’t hide from this, Ruby—”

  “I know that,” she snapped. “I’ll live with it. At home. I’m used to dealing…” She swallowed. “With being different.”

  He shook his head in frustration. Irritation flowed from him into her. “And what happens at moonrise? You—”

  “I’m not irresponsible,” she snapped. “I’ll take precautions.”

  His jaw clenched, that muscle flickering. “Don’t be stupid, Ruby. You can’t handle this alone. You need—”

  “Your Darius friend appears to manage.”

  “Darius is not my friend. But he has a full staff of employees at his disposal. And the experience you don’t.”

  “I have friends.” Well, just one she could count on for something like this. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

  He laughed harshly, the sound grating. Contempt eddied through him. “You aren’t thinking straight.”

  Her fist curled at her side, and she fought the urge to strike him, to knock the contempt free that he felt for her. “Maybe I’m not. Because I can’t believe I actually wanted to be with you again.” She flung a hand toward the door. “Get out.”

  With a hard nod, he moved to the door. “Fine. We’ll finish this discussion tomorrow.”

  “So you can explain to me—again—how destroying lycans, me, is what you do? No, thanks.”

  Frustration simmered through her—part his, part hers. She followed him to the door. As soon as he passed through it, she slammed it after him.

  Growling, she paced the room, kicking the leg of a chair. Damn him. He would never let her leave. He was too damn responsible to set her loose. He would keep her here hunting some damn lycan they probably could never catch… and all the time she would be at his mercy. How long before he gave up and just terminated her? It’s what he did, after all. That much he had made clear.

  A knock sounded at the door. She strode forward and yanked it open, expecting to see Sebastian again.

  Only it wasn’t him.

  Angry words died on her lips as she stared into a pair of pewter eyes.

  17

  Jonah skidded to a halt before the smoldering rubble. Sirens sang in the distance. The building that had stood there moments ago was now only a pile of fire, smoke and debris.

  His heart rose to his throat, strangling him as he choked through smoke thicker than fog. He shouted at the inferno, leaning forward with his whole body.

  Only one person filled his head, only one person mattered as he stared at the snarling, twisting mass of fire. The only one he ever truly gave a damn about.

  He shouted her name to the sky. “Sorcha!”

  Sirens were upon him now. Tires screeched and he forced himself to move. He loped through the courtyard and vaulted up the side of one building. Effortlessly, he climbed until he sat on a rooftop. From his high perch, he watched, scanning the chaos below, telling himself maybe they survived. Sorcha. The other children. Even Ivo, crazed as he was. Jonah couldn’t pretend that his loss didn’t hurt, didn’t affect him. Ivo had saved him as a boy.

  But he had stayed all this time for one reason. One reason only. Sorcha.

  Only lately he had contemplated breaking free of Ivo, venturing into the world on his own. To claim a normal life—even if it meant leaving a girl who looked at him with hero-worship in her eyes. Because he couldn’t follow Ivo anymore. Because he couldn’t stand witness as he broke his daughter.

  Only this was not how he imagined it would end.

  His hand fisted around the building’s edge. Sorcha. Grief swelled over him. He’d seen the misery in her face tonight. And he had left her.

  Sudden, new purpose filled him.

  Someone would pay. He would make certain of that.

  Cold certainty filled him. He didn’t have to think very hard to arrive at the likely culprit for this carnage.

  Who knew that a nest of lycans resided here?

  Who might feel motivated to wipe them out?

  The answer came to him with clarity. The hybrid that got away.

  Before he’d escaped, Jonah read the rage in the dark-haired dovenatu’s eyes. He knew his name—Sebastian Santiago. And he knew precisely how to find him. Ruby Deveraux of Beau Rivage, Louisiana. He knew all about her, courtesy of Gunter. Gunter had also related what he’d done to the pair of them. Reason enough for either one to want payback on the pack who tortured them. Not reason enough for Jonah to forgive what they had done. He closed his eyes. Sorcha.

  His gut instinct told him that the dovenatu had not risked himself for the female to let her simply disappear from his life. No, if Jonah fo
und the girl, he’d find Rafe Santiago, too.

  Then he would have his revenge. For Sorcha.

  Darius entered her hotel room without a word of invitation. He strolled toward the window with his hands clasped behind his back. A moment passed before Ruby shut the door. She watched him, keeping a careful distance, careful not to stray too close. Silly, she supposed. If he meant her harm, he would be on her in an instant. A few feet of separation wouldn’t matter.

  He stared out at the night for some moments, eyeing the serpent of smoke still rising into the sky.

  “I see the mission was a success,” she finally spoke into the silence, staring at his broad back.

  “And I see you are unchanged,” he returned.

  She inhaled sharply against the unwelcome reminder. “Is that why you came here? To see if I was still a lycan.”

  “Yes.” He didn’t bother turning around. “And I cannot confess disappointment over the fact that you are yet one.” He had an odd way of speaking, his manner of speech formal, hinting at an age lived and lost. A faint accent underlined his words.

  He turned around then. If possible, the heat in those silver eyes blistered her. The range of his emotions hit her full blast and she staggered back a step, her hands moving behind her to curl around the edge of a table.

  Desolation. Bleak as a sand-swept desert. As his gaze scanned her, she was assailed with a hungry need. Yearning. A deep need that had nothing to do with her specifically. He sought connection with another. With anyone who could fill the gnawing ache, and destroy his total sense of barren solitude, his isolation from the world and all in it.

  “I’m not what you want,” she announced.

  His lips twisted and for a moment she thought he might smile… thought he might actually know how to smile. “How do you know what I want?”

  “You’re looking for a reason to live. It’s not me.”

  His gaze flickered. She waited for his denial, his anger. The usual reaction when she read another’s emotions and stripped them bare. Instead, he spoke. “I’m always too late.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shook his head. Jaw firming, he lifted his head and locked cool eyes on her. “I know you have developed feelings for Santiago, but don’t fool yourself. He isn’t going to save you. He won’t even help you. It’s done. You’re a lycaness. All you can do is learn to cope. Every moonrise, you’ll shift and feed unless—”

  “I can sedate myself—”

  “By yourself? It’s far too tricky. What if you wake early? And all by yourself, you can’t lock yourself away. Who would free you?”

  “My best friend—”

  “And who else? Who else can you rely on? She is mortal. What about when she dies? Or falls ill?”

  All the questions Sebastian had posed.

  He continued, “You need to have a fail-proof method in place.”

  “And I suppose you do?”

  He nodded. “I have several safeguards in place. I won’t risk setting myself loose on mankind.” In a softer voice, he added, “Not again.”

  She hugged herself, hands chafing her arms. “How nice for you.”

  His expression turned annoyed. “I’m offering my resources to you.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “And what’s the catch?”

  “You and I would share those resources, naturally.”

  The skin of her face began to prickle. “Naturally.”

  “We share resources,” he repeated. “We share everything.”

  Everything. His eyes swept over her then, and she understood his meaning perfectly. His next words made no mistake. “I was a monk once. Ages ago. I have no wish to be that again. I want a woman. A mate. A companion.”

  “And because I’m a lycan, it might as well be me?”

  “I can’t have a mortal. I won’t. You’re ideal.”

  She pressed a palm to her forehead. “This is insane.”

  “I’m promising you safety, the protection of your soul. Is sharing your life with me such a sacrifice?”

  “Sharing our lives? You mean you get to… possess me.” She shivered. “Sharing hints at equality. Freedom. Somehow this smacks of anything but that.”

  His silver gaze sparkled, and he closed the distance. One hand stole around her neck. His fingers pressed fiercely into her nape, forcing her to look up into his eyes. “Your soul does not mean much to you, then?” His nostrils flared. “Or you just crave that hybrid between your legs so much you can’t stomach the thought of another, is that it? Let me assure you that I haven’t had any complaints when it comes to that.”

  “I guess you’ve had a lot of practice over the years. Alongside all the killing you’ve done.”

  If possible, his silver eyes grew even chillier. Downright wintry. “That’s right. I’m cursed, soulless. I’ve fed on innocents. So many I can’t recount. I only remember their screams in my ears… their taste.”

  She shivered, closing her eyes. Was this her future?

  He shook her, snapping her head back and forcing her eyes to reopen, to emerge from the bleak despair that threatened to pull her under.

  “Listen to what I’m saying. Listen to what will happen to you if you don’t take what I’m offering.” He brought his face close, inhaling the skin at her throat as he spoke. “You reek of him. If you are his, then why is he not here? Why am I here? Making my claim?”

  His words, his nearness, inflamed her. She felt an animal heat surge inside her. She recalled what Sebastian had said about lycans having an over-active libido.

  Dangerously tempted to lean in, to surrender, she knocked his arms away from her with a speed she could scarcely fathom. Her voice puffed from her lips in an inhuman growl, “Never touch me. I’m not yours to claim. I belong to no one.”

  He smiled, his lips a cruel twist in his harshly handsome face. “Very well.” He held both hands up in a disarming gesture. “I will never touch you again unless invited. Contrary to what you think, I am no beast. I can wait.”

  “You will wait forever,” she proclaimed, shaking with outrage.

  He inclined his head.

  She watched as he moved toward the door, her breath still coming fast and hard. “We’re pack creatures. We’re not built for solitude.”

  Not built for solitude? But that was how she lived. All she knew. She couldn’t risk anything else.

  It was too much. She felt adrift, buffeted at every side with a barrage of unwanted emotions. Her heart leapt when he stopped and turned.

  “I’ll be leaving tonight. Without the others. It’s a waxing moon, and I prefer to return home. We grow more aggressive as moonrise approaches. You may join me. I have a private jet. I’ll take you wherever you wish to go. I imagine you would like to begin making your arrangements and preparing for moonrise yourself. Since that is what you have chosen.”

  She could leave tonight?

  She could be in her own home, in her own bed tomorrow, putting the memory of this entire nightmare behind her?

  The offer was too tempting to refuse. Especially since she could sneak away without Sebastian even knowing. He’d be angry when he found out, but then he would forget about her. A part of him would probably be relieved that she had disappeared and lifted the responsibility of her from his shoulders.

  As if he read her thoughts, Darius murmured, “This may be your only chance to get home. Santiago won’t release you. If he doesn’t find your alpha, who knows what he will do with you?”

  She knew. And she shivered.

  “No strings?” she blurted.

  “No strings.”

  Her gaze narrowed, scanning every imposing inch of him from head to toe, but she felt no deception emanating from him, no foul purpose. “Why should you want to help me? In exchange for nothing?”

  He shrugged one of his massive linebacker shoulders. “Perhaps I take cruel, perverse pleasure in keeping you out of Santiago’s clutches. I have no great fondness for lycan hunters. Especially the ones that don’t discriminate, whi
ch are most of them.”

  His lips curved slowly, the closest thing to a smile Ruby had seen on him. “I rather relish disappointing him. He wants you. I’m keeping him from having you. Bloody hybrid. They have it all. The gifts that go with being a lycan—in this case, I’ll count you as a gift.”

  She stiffened.

  He continued, “And none of the negatives. Like loss of soul, and the fact that innocent lives are in peril simply from my ungodly existence.”

  Unwilling to lecture him on why he should not begrudge Sebastian for simply being what he was, she strode to where she dropped her money belt, grateful that she had retained it—specifically her passport and visa—through all she had been through.

  Securing it around her waist, she faced Darius and told herself she was doing the right thing. “Let’s go.”

  18

  Sebastian walked the streets, hands buried in his pockets, the myriad of smells and sounds doing nothing to distract him from the thought of Ruby, alone in her room. Alone. Afraid. A lycan.

  They’d been through a lot together in a short time. He should turn himself around and march back into that hotel and give her a hard shake for even thinking he would destroy her. Destroy her as if she were any lycan he had come across in the course of his life. A depraved, soulless killing machine she was not, and how could she think he saw her that way?

  He would not let her become that. Not even if he had to stand guard over her.

  Didn’t she know that?

  She’d saved his soul in that room. He couldn’t have continued as long as he had if not for her. With the heavy press of hunger on him, he’d felt a connection to her, and only that had staved off his descent to hell. Anyone else, and he would have broken.

  She had given herself to him, deepening the connection so that he did not fall to the darkness that urged him to feed, to fulfill the gnawing ache clawing his insides. As though reminded of that hunger, he stopped and bought a döner kebab from a street side vendor. Taking a bite, he pushed on, the savory meat fueling him.

  He’d give her the night, then he would sit her down and explain again why they needed to hunt down Gunter. Even if it took years, they would find him. Not that he believed it would take that long. Tracking was what he did. What he knew.