Beneath a Blood Moon

by RJ Blain

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” I told him, appreciating the way his charcoal suit accented his lean, toned body. “I do not feel any desire to acquire an exchange or a refund.”

  He kissed me again. “Good. I see a problem with our plan.”

  “What’s that?” Desmond demanded.

  “With her looking this gorgeous, everyone will be staring at her. That’s going to make our job very difficult—especially yours, Wendy.” Smiling, my mate took my hand. “Perhaps it’s a good thing His Eminence got us rings so everyone knows she’s mine.”

  “I’ll watch over her like she’s one of my own daughters,” Desmond’s mate promised.

  Sanders sucked in a breath, turning his attention to Desmond. “Maybe I should call Richard and ask for advice on how to survive you two…”

  “Fortunately for you, I like you almost as much as I like him,” was Desmond’s amused reply. “You’re safe—for now.”

  “That’s why I’m worried. I know exactly what you’re capable of, Desmond—and don’t you look all innocent over there, Wendy. You’re even worse, because you’re way too good at slipping under the radar.”

  Wendy’s smile was radiant. “You’re such a charmer. We’re running out of time. Charles, where are the rings?”

  Pulling a ring box from his pocket, Desmond tossed it to my mate. “They should fit. I stole your measurements while you were sleeping a while back.”

  “Define a while back,” my mate grumbled, opening the box. With my curiosity eating me alive, I peeked inside. The wedding bands were plain, either in white gold or platinum; I couldn’t tell.

  The glittering of gems drew my gaze to the engagement band. A large, yellow stone set in a ring of smaller red ones glinted in the room’s light. The central stone reflected a rainbow of colors when my mate tilted the box. Taking the box from my mate’s hands, Desmond pried loose the larger of the wedding bands. “In case it wasn’t obvious, this one is yours, Sanders. As for your measurements, I acquired your mate’s when I was on guard duty in Vegas. I got yours one of the times I bit you when she had been snatched. When the Shadow Pope gives me direct orders, I usually obey them, and he really wanted your sizes.”

  “It’s really hard to be mad at you over this. I want to be, but…”

  “But you got exactly what you wanted as a result.” With a smug grin, Desmond grabbed my mate’s left hand and shoved the ring into place. “If I let you two exchange rings properly, we’ll never leave the room on time. Unhand your woman so we can get these rings on. Our limousine should be here in the next few minutes, with yours arriving ten minutes after.”

  Snatching the box out of Desmond’s hand, my mate slipped both of the rings on my finger. “I will do this properly when I take you home with me,” he swore.

  A pleasant shiver went through me at the thought of having a home to go to. I didn’t need to see it to know I’d like it, as long as he was with me. “It doesn’t count unless you’re the one does all the work,” I informed him with a smile.

  “You two may as well come down to the lobby with us. We’ll take the first limousine. Once we’re settled at the gala, I’ll text you to come in. She’s entirely your responsibility until we’re all at the party,” Desmond said, picking up Wendy’s blue purse, which matched her floor-length gown. Like mine, it was modest enough and would stand out in the modern fashion world, where excessively exposed breasts and legs were the norm.

  I claimed my silver clutch and checked inside. A slender red wallet held my new cards and several hundred dollars in cash. The phone wasn’t the one I had purchased. Pulling it out, I frowned and turned it over in my hands. “A new phone?”

  “It’s a special model,” Desmond informed me. “If you get into any trouble, smash it against something. Hit it really hard. The force of the impact will trigger an alarm and alert us there’s a problem. Sanders, Wendy, and I are all on the notification list for your phone, as are the Shadow Pope and a few others. Try not to drop it and accidentally trigger the alarm. If you do drop it and a red icon flashes on the screen, go to your contacts and call Ozzy. That’ll shut the alarm off. It’ll also send a second notification warning us of a false alarm.”

  “Ozzy?”

  “A random name I selected so it wasn’t obviously labeled. You’ll have to explain you dropped the phone. If, by some unforeseen circumstance, you are kidnapped again and are forced to call, tell them you have the worst luck with phones and you dropped it again. The key phrase here is that you have the worst luck with phones.”

  My mate growled. “Are you implying someone in the Inquisition might be after Sara?”

  “I’m implying I have no idea who is after Sara, so I’m not taking any chances. It won’t be the first time an Inquisitor has turned rogue. The chance to acquire an Alpha’s mate as a hostage would be too good to pass up, especially when you’re the Alpha in question. If there is a rogue in the Inquisition, they know how the phones work. That said, there are only six people who know how to trigger the kidnap sequence on her phone: the person in charge of the dispatch, the Shadow Pope, and us.”

  “Great,” I muttered, stowing the phone in my clutch. “Does it actually work as a normal phone?”

  “Yes. All of your contacts have been added. It has a full charge, so if you need it, you’ll have it. Don’t let it run out of battery. You’ll get used to muting the phone if you decide to go to the movies. If the phone’s off for more than twenty minutes, it will send a notification, and someone will be checking on you. Also, make sure you carry it with you all the time.”

  “Just what I need, a babysitter phone.”

  My mate chuckled. “I have to do it, too, Sara—except when it’s confiscated by Desmond.”

  “You need it, Sara. You’re a trouble magnet just like my daughters,” Desmond replied. “Until we have a chance to really teach you how to protect yourself, I’m not taking any chances.”

  “I guess that’s fair.” I sighed and slipped the fur shrug into place before putting on my new coat. “I just want this over with.”

  Desmond’s smile was grim. “If all goes to plan, Mrs. Sanders, tonight will be the end of it.”

  Plans, I had learned, rarely went off without a hitch. In my case, they had a tendency to blow up in my face.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  An hour and a half after we left the hotel, our plans blew up in our face, right along with the limousine. The partition between the front and the back lowered, and our driver turned to face us.

  His mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear what he said through the ringing in my ears. What he said didn’t matter; he held a gun in his hand, and before I could do more than gasp, he fired.

  A dart protruded from my mate’s throat. Sanders’s eyes blazed gold, and he reached for the projectile. He yanked it out, only to have it slip from his fingers. The yellow in his eyes dulled, fading to a lackluster brown before he slumped beside me. My wolf’s rage flared, infecting me with her need to protect him.

  I grabbed my seatbelt and unfastened it. The skirts of my dress hampered my efforts to get to the front of the limousine. My wolf fed me her strength, and I tore through the silk a little above my knees. The driver pointed the gun in my direction, but my wolf was ready.

  With her driving me on, I lunged for the Inquisitor’s throat.

  He fired, missing me. Diving through the partition, I grabbed for the weapon, snarling profanities I couldn’t hear thanks to the ringing in my ears. My wolf’s fury at the cold numbness that had replaced the warmth of my mate in my head blinded me to everything other than our enemy.

  Once again, the Inquisitor’s mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear what he said.

  Closing one hand around his throat, I snatched the gun with the other, grabbing the barrel and yanking it out of his hand. The weapon was hot and burned my fingers. The pain fueled my anger, and my wolf encouraged me to rip the Inquisitor’s head off.

  Instead, I tightened my hold. The Inquisitor struggled to free himsel
f from my grip, clawing at my wrist with his nails. I growled, not caring I couldn’t hear the noises I made, and kept squeezing until the Inquisitor went limp in my hand. Something cracked in my victim’s neck, but only when my wolf was satisfied he wouldn’t come after us ever again, did I turn to face my mate.

  Sanders wasn’t moving.

  Taking the gun with me, I crawled into the back of the limousine. Biting on the grip of the gun to free my hand, I fumbled for the buckle of my mate’s seatbelt and released it, shoving the strap aside. With my heartbeat pounding in my head, I touched his throat.

  His pulse was strong beneath my fingers. Releasing my breath in a sigh I couldn’t hear, I scrambled over him. Wrapping my hand around the gun’s grip, I settled my finger against the trigger, drew a deep breath, and shoved open the door.

  A man in a suit was waiting for me holding a gun pointed in my direction. I bared my teeth, jerked my weapon towards him, and pulled the trigger.

  I think it surprised my victim as much as it did me when a dart buried deep in his stomach. He opened his mouth, groping for the cylinder. Unlike my mate, he didn’t manage to pull it out before he crumpled to the ground.

  My wolf’s vision was much better than my own at night, but the rising full moon offered its light. I had no idea where we were, but the limousine was near a forest. The road circling a lake or a bay rather than the ocean. While there was a hint of salt in the air, it wasn’t strong. Wherever we were, it wasn’t where we were supposed to be.

  In the Hamptons, the scent of the sea was pervasive.

  I checked for any other unwanted company. From what little I could make out, something had crunched the hood of the limousine. The passenger side of the car had taken most of the damage. The harsh stench of car fluids burned my nose and obliterated more useful scents, including those indicating how many people might be waiting for us to emerge.

  When I didn’t see anyone else in the darkness, I grabbed hold of Sanders’s arm, tugging on him until he slumped on the seat.

  His eyes remained closed. My wolf’s worry surged.

  Before my wolf had joined with me, I never would have been able to lift or even drag someone like my mate. He was taller than me by at least a few inches, and like me, there wasn’t a single bit of fat on him. He was sleek muscle, which weighed a lot. If I wanted to try to carry him, my shoes had to go. Snarling curses I still couldn’t hear, I kicked my useless heels into the water. They vanished, their ripples washed away by wind-born waves.

  With my wolf’s help, I wrestled Sanders out of the limousine and onto the asphalt. Where the road ended, a bank of large boulders and gravel began, leading down to the lake below.

  The glare of approaching headlights forced me to retreat towards the shore, and I eased my way down the bank to the winter-chilled water, dragging my mate down on his back, holding him beneath the arms.

  Once we were at the bottom of the slope, I had two choices. Farther along the shore, the trees came to the water’s edge, but anyone searching would easily be able to spot me and my mate. My other option was to brave the water and hide among the waves.

  My wolf remembered what we had done, and her shame was a match for mine.

  Several car doors slammed, and headlights bathed the road above in their glow. Leaving my mate defenseless scared my wolf more than the water, and after securing my hold on Sanders so his head wouldn’t submerge, I backed into the lake. Sharp rocks bit at my feet, but I ignored the pain and moved deeper until my mate’s still body floated. Lowering myself until only my head remained above the surface, I crept away, pulling him with me as I went.

  Sanders’s phone died a watery death, refusing to turn on no matter what I did to it. Fighting back tears of frustration, I threw it as hard as I could.

  I found no satisfaction in the way it broke apart, metal bits and glass flying in every direction. The faint relief I felt at hearing it crunch faded beneath my worry. Without the phone, I couldn’t call anyone for help. I had no idea what the Inquisitor had used on my mate, but nothing I did woke him up. The water left me cold and shaking.

  My wolf tried to coax me into transforming into her shape, which was far better equipped to deal with the cold. Staring at Sanders’s pale face, I considered it before deciding to remain human.

  If I became a wolf, I would be dry and warm, but my mate would suffer.

  She understood, and her fear for our mate once again surged. While she had fur, I had hands. Hands were needed to care for him and secure a safe place to den. Together, we would figure out what to do.

  It took me several tries, but I managed to haul Sanders across my shoulders so I could carry him away from the shore. Dark, quiet forest waited for me, and my wolf was eager to delve into its depths, away from the open water and shore where we were easy prey.

  Old trees towered over me, and the moonlight through the bare-branched canopy guided my way. With my wolf’s help, the darkness didn’t bother me. She preferred it to the harshness of sunlight. The prey she enjoyed crunching between her teeth came out at night.

  I denied her once again, trembling at the way she lusted for fresh meat, hot blood, and the thrill of the hunt.

  “Later,” I informed her between clenched teeth.

  Maybe my wolf offered me inhuman strength, but I lacked the endurance to carry my mate for long. I resorted to dragging him, peering around for someplace suitable to den. Once we found a place to hide, I’d consider her request.

  If my mate didn’t wake up soon, I would need to keep him warm. If I had fur, I could. Satisfied I was being reasonable, my wolf settled, leaving the matter of denning in my hands.

  I found a massive boulder jutting up from the forest floor, worn smooth by the years and weather. Near its base, gnarled thickets offered coverage. Once upon a time, another animal had made its home where the dirt and rock met, digging a cave barely large enough for two humans but plenty spacious for two wolves needing shelter.

  Dragging Sanders into the hole, I paused long enough to catch my breath. The idea of stripping in the middle of the forest repulsed me, but I didn’t savor the thought of trying to change into a wolf while dressed. Taking off my rings, I slipped them into my mate’s pocket, drew a deep breath, and welcomed my wolf.

  She was eager to take her form, and I clenched my teeth in anticipation of the pain. While the cold helped, it wasn’t enough to spare me from the way my bones snapped and writhed beneath my skin. My tears froze on my cheeks until I shifted enough I grew fur.

  When it was over, I shook. My wolf released control, her exhaustion greater than mine. I rose to my paws, braced myself, and shook. Black fur drifted in the air to settle on my mate. At her insistence, I licked my paws and smoothed my coat.

  A sprinkling of shedding black fur clung to me, but my coat beneath was pale. In the darkness, I couldn’t tell if it was white, silver, or some other pale color. My paws and the tip of my tail were darker, and with the help of the moonlight, I determined the color to be either red or brown.

  Groaning at the stiffness in my bones and muscles, I crawled onto my mate’s stomach and chest, resting my head beside his. I rested my paws on his shoulders, squirming until I was as comfortable as I could make myself. Sighing, I waited, touching my nose to his throat to breathe in his scent. When I licked him, there was a bitter taste to his sweat, and it made my tongue go numb.

  With no idea of how to help my mate, I waited.

  The memory of falling asleep eluded me. Fangs digging into my throat jerked me awake, and old memories of Rory and Isabella tearing at me frightened a whine out of me. Shuddering, I opened my eyes.

  The wolf standing over me could eat me in two or three bites without having to stop and chew. Larger than Wendy and easily more than a match for Rory and Isabella combined, his size intimidated me more than his low, rumbling growl.

  When I remembered to breathe, my mate’s scent filled my nose. Going limp with relief, I gawked at him, wondering how he could be so huge. No natural wolf could mat
ch him.

  I’d seen smaller ponies.

  Red fur covered him, as though he had bathed in blood. His paws, nose, tips of his ears, and the end of his tail were pure white. From what little I could see of his back, a black stripe ran along the length of his spine.

  His eyes blazed a brilliant sun gold, and when he noticed me watching him, he released my neck, stretched out, and bowed, lifting a paw to bat at my shoulder. The warbling noises he made interested my wolf, and she took over control enough to lurch upright. While she shook off, shedding more black fur, she considered our mate.

  There was something odd about his scent, something that worried my wolf, as though the wildness of the forest had somehow infected him. Uncertain, she once again gave me control, and at her encouragement, I took a hesitant step forward, lowered to my belly, and wormed my way beneath his muzzle.

  Sanders draped his paw over my shoulders, and with a pleased and contented sigh, he sank down beside me, licking my nose. My fears of being eaten faded, and I leaned my head against his throat. He radiated soothing warmth. Settling in, I took a long look at the den I had chosen. With him so large we barely fit, although the tight confines didn’t seem to bother my mate. Shreds of charcoal and white fabric littered the ground. My gown, which had already been ruined but intact, had likewise suffered. Had Sanders torn it apart before turning his attention to me?

  Disconcerted, I wiggled to extricate myself from my mate. He snapped his teeth at me, growling in warning. I froze, turning my ears back and whining. With a heavy sigh, he tugged at my scruff before licking my muzzle. When I remained motionless, he groomed me, shifting his weight off me, though he kept me pinned with a paw.

  My wolf adored his attention, encouraging me to roll over and expose my belly to him. While hesitant, I obeyed. Snuffling, Sanders nosed at my stomach, breathing in my scent. His ears pricked forward. Once again, he stretched out his forelegs, bowing down and warbling at me, batting at me with his paw.