FALL OF A BLOOD MOON (RISE OF THE ARKANSAS WEREWOLVES Book 7)

by Jodi Vaughn

  “What are you doing?” Jaxon called out.

  She walked farther toward the kitchen. She stepped into the room and her foot hit an old mason jar, sending it rolling across the heart-of-pine floors. She slid her light over the old, yellowed countertops. Sadness engulfed her, and a hundred memories of her standing on a chair and rolling out cookie dough with her grandmother washed over her in an instant. Laughter had been an ingredient in this kitchen. She couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been happy here.

  She turned toward the back door and pushed open the screen door.

  Terror and horror filled her chest as she stepped outside.

  She remembered one time when this house was devoid of happiness. The one time when she hadn’t felt safe.

  Grief, hard and sharp, cut into her chest as that one memory crashed into her as she stepped back inside the house.

  That was the day her father showed up and killed her grandmother.

  Chapter Seven

  Jaxon followed Ginny into the house. His stomach twisting.

  He’d once loved this house. Once upon a time, this was a second home to him. But that was many years ago, and like all things tarnished with the passage of time and betrayal, it was nothing but a shell of painful reminders.

  “We need to go,” he said. He was no longer in a gentle or a forgiving mood. He didn’t know what kind of female Ginny had turned into for showing him this, reminding him of how his life hadn’t turned out. But he knew now that he no longer knew her. Hell, maybe he never had.

  “I said, we need to leave,” he said, this time more forcefully.

  She turned, and he expected her to retort with some smart-ass reply. But when he saw her pale face illuminated by her phone, he knew something wasn’t right.

  “Ginny, what’s…”

  Her eyes rolled back in her head. She slumped forward. He lunged for her and scooped her up in his arms before she hit the floor.

  Her phone slid out of her hand and hit the hardwood floor with a thud. Surrounded by darkness, he blinked, adjusting his keen eyesight in the darkness.

  He walked over to the broken window toward the back of the house. The musty lace curtain fluttered in the breeze and stirred a strand of hair against her cheek.

  She was even more beautiful than he’d remembered. She’d obviously lost weight and she looked pale, but in her relaxed state with her eyes closed, she looked peaceful, all the stress he’d seen in her face now gone.

  The urge to lean down and press his lips to hers was overwhelming. He’d been doing his best to control his body ever since he’d laid eyes on her. Now it was all he could do to stay sane.

  Her eyelashes fluttered open and she moaned. She met Jaxon’s gaze and frowned.

  “What happened?” She turned her head toward the window.

  “You fainted. That’s what happened.” He cocked his head. “Think you can stand if I put you down?”

  “Yes, of course.” The scowl was back on her forehead, and she pushed at his chest to get him to release her.

  He eased her to the floor but held his hands on her arms.

  “I’m fine, Jaxon. You can let go.” She shoved at his chest, but he didn’t move.

  “Just making sure you don’t hit the floor.” He studied her eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing’s going on.”

  “Right. Like nothing’s going on with those bruises on your arms.” His narrowed gaze drifted down.

  She flinched out of his grip and shook her head. “You need to focus, Jaxon. I need to know how to get my car out of that ditch, and fast.” She blinked rapidly.

  He rubbed his chin with his fingers. “Well, I can call for a wrecker. But that’s going to take hours. Or I could just take you home myself.”

  “How am I going to explain my car?” Her eyes widened and her breathing increased as she stared off.

  “Just tell him the truth. That it was stolen.” He studied her expression. It was a look he’d never seen on his Ginny before. She wasn’t his. She hadn’t been for quite a while. Maybe she never had been.

  She swallowed. “I can’t.”

  “You can’t what?” he cocked his head.

  She met his gaze and pressed her lips into a thin line. She took a deep breath and slid her mask of confidence right back over her pretty little face. “I need to get home.” She picked up her phone off the dirty floor and cringed at the time. “I’m already pushing it as it is.”

  “So where is home?”

  She bit her lip as if debating whether or not to tell him.

  “Ginny, I can’t leave you here by yourself.”

  “I can’t ask you to take me when you are obviously on a mission to find that witch.” She shook her head. “What did she do that was so bad anyway?”

  “She hurt a lot of people. And I’m trying to capture her and take her back where she belongs before she can hurt anyone else.”

  “Maybe she had a reason for what she did.” Ginny’s voice was soft.

  He knew she must have been feeling some guilt. He felt vindicated in a way. He’d been hurt over her for a very long time.

  “There’s never a good reason to hurt anyone. Ever,” he spat out.

  She flinched like he’d slapped her across the face.

  He took a deep breath and blew it out. “She escaped from where she was being… contained. Since her escape, she’s left a trail of bodies, not to mention she managed to stab a female Were. I need to capture her and bring her back to Mississippi…”

  “Mississippi?” Her head snapped up. “Are you saying she’s the Witch of Yazoo City?”

  “Yeah. You know her?”

  She shook her head. “Personally, no, but I’ve heard the stories. I just always thought she was a legend.”

  “Nope. She’s very much real. And she needs to go back to the cemetery.”

  “She’s imprisoned there, right?” Ginny cocked her head. “How did she leave anyway? I always heard she was under a curse.”

  “She is. She managed to stab Catty, who happens to be the mate of one of the Arkansas Guardians, when they went to inquire about some shady shit going on in Louisiana. Apparently when the witch spills blood from a paranormal, she can escape the cemetery. She has to keep spilling it to keep from being sucked back into the graveyard.”

  “She’s under a blood curse then.” Ginny’s eyes grew wide. “I always heard a blood curse was for the most dangerous criminals.”

  “Or the craziest.” Jaxon snorted.

  “So what did she do to get cursed in the cemetery?” She folded her arms over her chest.

  “How the hell should I know?” he fired back. “Whatever it was must have been pretty serious though.”

  “You’re so damn judgy.”

  “Judgy? Me? Are you kidding? What about you in your expensive clothes and Mercedes? You’re the one looking down your nose at me.” His anger boiled, and he curled his fingers into fists at his side.

  “I’ve never looked down on you.” Her eyes widened and her arms dropped to her side. “Why would you even say that?”

  “I wasn’t exactly rolling in money when we met.”

  “You were just a kid. We both were. I didn’t expect you to be rolling in money.” She turned and glanced around the darkened room. “I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth either.”

  “Well, you are certainly living a life of luxury right now.” He glanced down at the large rock on the ring finger of her left hand. “I guess the ring I bought for you was too small.”

  She placed her right hand over her left, concealing her ring. She met his gaze with renewed focus.

  “I need to get home. I don’t have time to dredge up the past. I have to get home.” Her gaze darted around the room. “If you can’t help me, then at least give me your phone and I’ll call a cab.”

  “A cab?” He rubbed his eyebrow and considered his words. “There is no way a cab is going to come all the way out in the middle of nowhere.” He shrugged. “E
ven if you did manage to get one out here, it would take half the night. You wouldn’t make it back before dawn.”

  “But I have to make it back before dawn. I have to…” Her voice quivered and trailed off.

  She was scared. And after seeing the bruises on her arms, there was no way in hell he was going to let her go home without seeing what the hell kind of mess she was in.

  He couldn’t make her leave her husband. Being pregnant complicated things even more. He’d heard enough stories from Braxton to know that abused females rarely left their males. He also knew she would hate him forever if he forced her to do something she didn’t want to do.

  Her life was her life. If that was what she’d chosen over him, that’s what she wanted.

  He hated himself for even thinking about going down this path with her. He’d never forgotten her, but he had managed to put together a life for himself. He found that being single suited him. He could date or fuck whoever with no strings attached. He made damn good money working for Barrett as a Guardian in Arkansas, and he actually enjoyed his job. Protecting the civilian werewolves of the state gave him purpose, and at night he could put his head on the pillow and know he’d done a good job at making someone else’s life safer, better.

  The only time he thought of Ginny was when Granny gathered all the Guardians together for dinner or the holidays. He would glance around the table and notice how the other males were slowly being mated with females. First there was Damon and Ava, then Braxton met Kate and they mated. Jayden was next and he not only mated Haley, he wanted to marry her as well. That had brought up old memories, as that’s what the plan had been with Ginny. Zane mated Skylar and now Lucien and Catty had mated around Valentine’s Day. The only ones in their little group of friends that were still single besides himself were Ryker and Barrett.

  At least he knew Barrett would never mate. The Pack Master had stated that on several occasions.

  “What are you thinking?” Ginny asked.

  “I’m thinking I’m going to live to regret this.” He shoved his hands through his hair and studied the ceiling. “I’ll take you back to Louisiana. If we leave now, I can get you there before sunrise.”

  Chapter Eight

  “It’s from Jaxon.” Barrett frowned at the cell phone in his hand. He read, then reread the message he’d sent. A female Were was in trouble and he had to help her out. He said he had to take her to Louisiana and would be back late the next day.

  Unease settled over him like thick fog.

  He punched in a text and sent it. Who is the female?

  “That asshole better not be getting any pussy,” Damon snarled and then crossed his arms over his chest. He’d been in the office with Barrett going over what he needed to do while Barrett went to the meeting with the other Pack Masters.

  “He knows better. Jaxon might be a skirt chaser, but when it comes to his job, he’s focused.” Foreboding snaked around Barrett’s gut. It had nothing to do with Jaxon. He trusted the Were. What he was feeling was something else coming down the road that he couldn’t see. Too bad he didn’t have that fucking witch in custody. He could get her to do some kind of magick and tell him what future event had him on edge.

  His phone buzzed, and he glanced back down at Jaxon’s reply.

  Her name is Ginny.

  “Motherfucker.” He’d bet his soul it was Ginny Boudier McGregor.

  “What is it?” Damon looked up from the paperwork and frowned.

  Barrett looked at Damon and held his stare. “Apparently Jaxon is helping a female werewolf.”

  “Yeah, you said that already.” Damon shrugged.

  “And her name is Ginny.”

  “Who the fuck is that?”

  “Edward Boudier’s only daughter.” He squeezed the phone in his hand and struggled to make sense of what Jaxon had just done.

  “Fuck.”

  “We’re the ones who are going to be fucked if Boudier finds out.” Barrett sent a quick text back to Jaxon. A message in red popped up saying it wasn’t delivered.

  “Shit.”

  “Now what is it?” Damon stood. “Does Jaxon know who he’s dealing with?”

  “I don’t know. I sent him a text to let him know, but it’s not going through.” He forked his hand through his hair.

  “Do we send someone down there?” Damon frowned.

  “I’ve already sent Ryker. He’s trying to find that witch.” He sat down in his chair and leaned back, steepling his fingers together.

  “We can pull another Guardian,” Damon said.

  “No.” He shook his head. “Ryker is on the border of Arkansas and Louisiana. He knows not to cross the state line. I have a bad feeling that Jaxon is already in Louisiana. If we send another Guardian, it’s going to add fuel to the fire with Boudier. If Jaxon can get out of Louisiana before Boudier realizes one of my men is there, we still might have a chance.”

  “A chance of what?” Damon asked.

  “A chance of avoiding all-out war with Louisiana.”

  “War? The Packs haven’t been at war since, hell, I can’t remember when.”

  “Boudier would start a war if his steak wasn’t prepared the way he wants it. Boudier thinks of nothing but himself. His Guardians are just hired soldiers, there at his beck and call.”

  “Sounds like a bigger fucker than I remembered him to be,” Damon said.

  “That’s right.” Barrett cocked his head. “You used to be a Louisiana Guardian.”

  Damon snorted. “Before I got kicked out. Best thing that ever happened to me.”

  Barrett leaned forward and studied the Were. “When you worked for Boudier, did you see what it was about him that made his Guardians so loyal to him?”

  “Well, first of all, I was only a Guardian in that state for less than a year before getting kicked out. And I never met the Pack Master. I was offered the Guardian position through one of his Assassins. Boudier never had Guardians in his presence, only his Assassins. The Guardians were never allowed to discuss Boudier or talk smack about him.” Damon shook his head. “I don’t think it’s loyalty they feel toward him. They’re afraid of him.”

  “That’s what I figured. If Boudier catches a whiff that I have a Guardian in his state, he won’t hesitate to retaliate. It’s what he wants.” Barrett walked over to the map and studied the boundary line between the two states.

  He wanted his revenge against Boudier, but he sure as shit wasn’t about to sacrifice his own Guardian.

  He needed Jaxon back in Arkansas without Ginny.

  It was the only way to save the future of their Pack.

  * * *

  Ginny tightened her arms around Jaxon as he tore down the highway toward Lafayette. It had taken her four hours to drive to El Dorado in her car. But judging by how fast Jaxon was pushing his Harley, she figured he was going to shave that time down by at least forty minutes.

  She welcomed the night air that blasted her face. Her hair had long since come undone and was swiping around her face and impeding her vision. She didn’t mind. She didn’t need to see the road. Jaxon was in charge, and she felt safe in knowing he’d do what he promised and get her home.

  Home. The overgrown house she’d stepped into tonight was the only home she’d ever known. Where she was heading now wasn’t home. It was a prison.

  Her mind flew back to the day her life forever changed. What was supposed to be her wedding day had turned into a funeral.

  Not only had her grandmother died trying to protect her from a father she didn’t know, but her future had died as well.

  She didn’t have a life. She existed. She existed so others could live.

  It was a life she wouldn’t wish upon her worst enemy.

  Her stomach pitched as they passed a highway sign for Lafayette. The skin on her arms pebbled with terror. She was almost home.

  City lights came into view, and Jaxon slowed his speed. Instead of staying on the road, he turned into a gas station.

  Her heart lurched into her
throat.

  “What are you doing? We can’t stop. Not now.” Her heart beat against her chest.

  “I need gas,” he said over his shoulder and pulled up beside a gas pump.

  Her gaze darted around at the few people milling around their cars. She inhaled deeply. According to their scents, none of them were werewolves.

  It didn’t matter. John employed humans as well as werewolves. He had eyes all over the state of Louisiana. The fact that she’d just pulled into a gas station on the back of a bike with a man who wasn’t her mate would get back to John. This was not going to end well for her.

  She needed to get out of sight. She hoped off the bike and fumbled with the saddlebags. Finally she opened one and gathered her clothes into her arms. She dug in her pocket for the insignia ring and slipped it on her the index finger of her right hand.

  “What are you doing?” Jaxon grabbed her arm and narrowed his eyes.

  “I can get home by myself now. Thank you for taking me this far.” She glanced around, looking for any familiar faces.

  “But it’s still a few more miles.”

  “It’s fine. I have to go.” She jerked out of his grasp and hurried down the side of the road. It was late and there was hardly any traffic, so she should be okay. The streetlights illuminated her path, and she knew if she stuck to the light she’d be safe enough from any harm.

  The funny thing was, she was safer out here on the streets than she was at home.

  Because once she got home, there’d be hell to pay.

  * * *

  “That is the most hardheaded female I’ve ever come across,” Jaxon muttered under his breath as he gassed up his Harley. He was running on fumes and knew he had to get gas before going after her. He kept glancing up to keep an eye on her as she walked away. The few people who were out didn’t bother her. One sketchy-looking human eyed her and then started to walk close to her but then changed his mind and ran in the other direction.

  It was like they were afraid of her. Or afraid of what would happen if they got too close to her.

  When he’d pulled into the gas station, he’d had a gut instinct that she was going to try to run away from him before they reached her house, and he’d already made up his mind to follow her until she got home. Maybe she was too embarrassed about the abusive situation she was living in. Maybe she really loved her mate and didn’t want to leave.