My forehead slid sown until it bumped his shoulder. Frustration at the situation encouraged another tear to escape. I wanted nothing more than to be able to scoop him up in my arms and carry his arse out of there. I’d never wished myself stronger than I did in that moment, but my body had limitations. Ones I’d almost reached the end of. Hoping the tablets worked, if only eventually, I twisted to sit with my focus on the only entrance and settled in to wait.
With Sean’s closeness heating my back, the virtual clock in my head chimed out every second we sat there. Floorboards creaked somewhere overhead, and more than once I braced myself for discovery, my head whipping up as my muscles tensed to act—only to sag again at each false alarm.
An hour could have passed in that cellar—it certainly seemed as if it did—but after what must have been closer to mere minutes, Sean’s nose poked against my hair. The suck and blow of his sniffing tickled the flesh there, and I tilted my head, my lids threatening to droop. When his chest met my shoulders, and a hand slid across my hip to my stomach, I could fight them no more, and my eyes closed as I leaned into the one I should have been supporting.
Awash with peace after days of heartache, my restful position lured me in. Each nudge of his nose swayed my body. In my contentment, I scarcely noticed when his inhalations deepened, or as a slight tug drew me backward.
Perhaps Sean hadn’t been the only one who required healing.
His free hand smoothed along my shoulder and weaved into my hair, tilting my head farther, and his lips traced the outline of my jaw.
A long, low moan of pleasure vibrated from me. My legs drew up, my fingers found his thighs.
“What the heck’s going on?”
My eyes shot open at Marianne’s screech, yet the cellar held nobody other than the two of us.
The first footstep hit the top stair, the rest in rapid succession. Her feet appeared, followed by her body, her head. She slammed to a halt.
Marianne’s eyes scanned rightward, her gaze falling on us as the swing of the single hanging bulb she’d caught with her head intermittently illuminated us.
Her mouth opened. She appeared unsure of which way to move but turned back toward the open cage door with the keys dangling from the lock.
As she darted forward, I lunged from Sean’s arms.
We hit the door together. A metallic clang rang out. The bars imprinted into my chest and shoulder as the power of my dive claimed control.
The door whooshed outward, and Marianne flew back and hit the wall—just not hard enough. She scrambled to her feet, leapt for the stone steps and raced from the cellar.
The metal-framed door resonated against stone as I barged from the cell. On hitting the bottom stair, I halted, spun back to Sean.
His body no longer slouched in the corner. He’d attempted to get to his feet—almost succeeded—and his eyes showed sufficient alertness that he seemed to understand the reason for my hesitation. “Go!” His voice held the hoarseness of days with little speech.
I took a step toward him. “But—”
“How many?”
“Two. And just you and me. Ethan on the way. But he won’t be here for a while.”
He pushed upright, swayed once and steadied himself with a hand to the wall. “Then go.”
I danced out my uncertainty before I got my head screwed on straight. “I’ll be back for you.” On my promise, I whirled and took the steps two at a time.
32
Marianne’s short legs didn’t seem able to carry her at high speeds. Maybe she should have worked out instead of sticking her beak into spell books. She stood no chance of getting away, not from someone who’d spent months trying to keep up with a pack of werewolves.
A few metres from the rear gate, I caught up and body slammed her with my shoulder.
Marianne collided with the wall. On an expelled grunt, she slid to the ground, but pushed to her feet with a headshake and turned to me. Venom filled her cold eyes as a murmured chant flew from her lips. Fists curled, she began to circle me.
I tilted my head as I twisted to follow her path, trying to make out her words. When it clicked, I burst out a laugh. “Oh, this is just classic.” My hands came to rest on my hips. “You’re …cursing me?”
She didn’t answer, but her lip curled, and her tone continued to spit out words that sounded more malicious by the second.
I rolled my eyes whilst hoping like crazy the deflection held up. “Oh, stop already.”
Her lips didn’t cease, the incantation continuing to roll out of her, the circling and fist clenching showed her increasing wrath.
A gasp broke her flow. She clutched at her stomach. Shock registered on her face.
Smiling as it dawned she’d gotten what she intended for me and hiding my relief that Jess had protected me, I strode forward. My fingers folded around the front of her cable knit sweater, and I yanked her up and threw her.
She landed about ten metres away with a thud and a cry.
My lips twitched as I moved closer. “We’ll make it fair. You give me your worst shot, then I take a turn.” I tapped my chin, pretending to ponder. “That makes it your turn. Come on, hit me with it.”
She chanted another curse. Her lips sped through the words as she staggered to her feet.
“Oh, for goodness sake. You must have figured it out. It isn’t going to work on me.” I curled my fingers in invitation. “Get your arse over here and fight me properly.”
The fact she didn’t came as no shock. If I’d been her, up against me, I would have been on my toes already—running in the opposite direction. Her remaining presence, her continued efforts to win only confirmed her loathing of me.
I folded my arms and tapped my foot, feigning boredom. “Tell me when you’ve finished, won’t you?”
Another cry of pain told me she had. She grasped at her arms, rubbing the length of them. Her frantic eyes suggested it had begun to sink in that she experienced the results of what she aimed my way.
“I already told you, Marianne.” I squatted to bring her to eye level. “You can’t beat me this way.” The look she sent me surpassed even a glower, but I didn’t care. “I bind you, Marianne, from doing harm.” I smiled at her. “Is this a spell you’re familiar with?”
“No!” She screamed the word.
I straightened my legs. “Rule number one, know thy enemy. You should have checked me out a bit better before you decided to take me on.” I strode forward to tower over her, dropped back down to her level. “I come from a long line of witches. Powerful witches. You must be familiar with the eternal binding spell. All witches who know their stuff have heard of it—the only successful one ever achieved.”
Her eyes narrowed as her glare deepened. The icy chill of their blueness glinted beneath the earth’s natural lantern.
“I know you’ve read about it. Your choosing werewolves to merge with witches was no coincidence, was it? I bet you thought it would work. I mean, why not? The two worked well together before, right?” I grabbed her sweater front, brought her close. “The difference, Marianne, is that the original merging was no fake. The couple it was performed on were in love. A concept I’m sure you’re unfamiliar with.”
“How can you know anything about it?” she hissed. “You’re nothing but a thug. You’re no pureblood. You’re—”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” I smiled. “The witch who performed that binding ceremony was my mother.”
I watched her as I waited for it to sink in, knew when it had by the widening of her eyes. She parted her curled lips, but I didn’t wait to hear what she had to say. A yank drew her to me, and a harsh shove tossed her tumbling away across the lawn.
I marched forward, catching up a split second after she landed. My hand reached, my mind more than happy to play with the bitch.
<
br /> “Come now, Jem.”
I halted at the sound of my mate’s voice and looked up to see him making forced strides toward me.
“What have I told you about playing with your food? If you’re hungry, just eat her already.”
I couldn’t help the smile or the flutter of my heart, or the moisture that invaded my eyes.
Compared to my last sighting of him, he looked hot to trot. Not perfect, not back to full strength—but that didn’t matter when the only issue he had to contend with came in the form of an unfit-looking witch. The only indication of Stephanie’s struggles were her darting eyes, the squawks she gave, and the occasional flap of her hanging feet.
She could have tried a bit harder.
I certainly would have if swung around one-handed by a naked man.
Not surprisingly, Marianne jumped to her feet during my distraction and took off at a sprint.
I twisted to check which way she went before turning back to Sean. “Shit! Now I’ll have to chase her.”
“Oh, the hardship.” He grinned, my stomach tightening at the sight. “I found this one upstairs, hiding.” He waved Stephanie about like a ventriloquist’s dummy. “You want her, Jem?”
“No, baby. You can take her.”
When I tore my gaze away, looked back toward the gate, Marianne had pulled it open, and the soft squelch of her running feet hit the damp grass beyond. I took a step, peered up at the moon, smiled at him over my shoulder. “Looks like the hunt is on tonight, after all.”
His chuckle followed my pursuit of the witch, but I stopped as it dawned on me my mate hadn’t reached my side—I’d never hunted without Sean. I spun to him, almost asked if he was coming, but one look at him told me I’d be asking too much.
Regret filled his eyes for an instant before clearing. “Go on, Jem.”
I dragged my vest over my head and tossed it aside, did the same with my jeans.
Sean’s eyes never once left me. “You sure you don’t want me to save this one for you, Jem? I was looking forward to some entertainment.”
“No. She’s all yours.” I trotted back over to him, pushed up on my toes to kiss his lips. “The wolfsbane was her idea.”
Rage darkened his stare as I turned and flew toward the gate.
Sean roared as Stephanie’s scream of “No!” reverberated throughout the garden.
• • •
I’d had enough of the toying, of Marianne still breathing, of being unnecessarily parted from Sean—and saw no point in messing around. On limbs weary from fatigue and my change, I raced across the field until I could almost drink in her sweat-saturated scent.
Picking up speed, I circled round to block her path.
Her feet skidded in her halt. A high-pitched scream pierced my ears before she raced to the left.
As I leapt across, dashing into her path again, she fell forward onto her hands, yelping out her terror.
Another spin, another dash for freedom, a squeal at her route blocked once more by a huge wolf, and she still seemed to believe she held chance of escape.
Four or five times, I allowed a glimmer of hope to enter her eyes. Each time, I cut her off with a growl. At one point, a rough ram of my shoulder into the back of her legs sent her sprawling to her face.
As she rolled, I stepped over her, her black waves fluttering beneath my snorted breaths. Dread seeped into her eyes. A strong waft of urinary secretion told me understanding had finally dawned, and excitement shivered through me.
My lips vibrated beneath the pressure of my slow-released snarl. My jaws clamped around her throat, and a sharp yank tore it free.
As the spark of life died in her eyes, I chuffed the scent of her blood from my nostrils, gave a vigorous body shake to flick off her touch and stepped away to change back.
• • •
Silhouetted by the moon, Sean’s frame filled the gateway as I made my return. With my fingers hooked over the waistband of the dead witch’s jeans, I took one awkward step after another, hauling her beside me as I willed myself to get to him sooner. Metres from the gate, my fingers uncurled and she slid down my leg to thump on the ground.
Sean’s crooked finger beckoned me over.
Being a dutiful mate, I stepped straight into his arms and pressed my face to his chest.
“How long until Ethan gets here?” he asked after a while.
“An hour …ish.”
“Where are we?”
“Place called Little Hampton.” My lips brushed his flesh as I spoke.
He gave a low grunt.
I pulled away to look up at him, sent him a small smile of regret. “Time to start cleaning up.”
He nodded, reluctantly it seemed, and trailed me into the garden.
I headed straight for an outside tap beneath the kitchen window. To delete all traces of Marianne, I turned it on and splashed the icy cold water onto my face, shivering with each droplet that hit my naked skin.
As I straightened, I considered where to begin. Though none of the bodies lay near, I knew they all awaited disposal. The damp grass chilled my soles as I stepped toward where Amber had dropped on the far side of the property. The orange glow radiating from the wood burner tempted me to bask in its shared heat as I passed. Softness met my feet when the arranged picnic blanket took place of the lawn.
A sharp jab caught the back of my legs.
My knees folded, hands flew out. I hit the blanket on all fours. Rolled with an erupted snarl cut short by Sean plummeting toward me.
His palms hit the ground either side of my shoulders, and his mouth crushed to mine.
My body responded, curving to mould into him, clinging to hold him lest he stop. Soft moaning sighs and gentle gasps breathed out past my engaged lips.
God, how I’d missed him.
His mouth released me. “Seems a shame to waste all this, Jem.” His whisper held huskiness. “The blankets beneath the stars, the warmth of the heaters . . .”
I lifted my head to peer round the garden. “But, cleaning up—”
“Let Ethan do it.” Before I could argue, his mouth smashed back down.
The ravenous tastes he took, the tease of his tongue and the nibble of his teeth told me he’d gotten enough of his strength back—everywhere.
My body arched to take me closer. I slid my fingers to the back of his head, deepened the kiss and raised my legs in invitation, gasping out a cry as he entered me.
His steady rhythm kicked straight in, and I matched him, thrust for thrust.
He moved to my shoulder, gave warm laps of his tongue, soft skims of his teeth, tender caresses of his lips. Finding his flesh with my own mouth, I treated him to the same pleasures.
One hand swept beneath my back, the other pushed up and tangled in my hair.
My fingers dug into his rear to encourage him further, my other hand grasping his shoulder, afraid to let go.
As though desperate for the sight, touch, taste of one another, our heads lifted, our gazes connected, and our efforts grew frantic.
Holds tightened, breaths infused, heartbeats hitting the same tune, we rocked against each other. The almost silent air filled with our urgent gasps and growls of passion. Our scents of arousal and desire took over the atmosphere. As the warmth of climax reached boiling point, the cries of our release symphonised the night.
He collapsed upon me. His hot, panting breaths teased my neck.
Legs still around him, my arms still clung, unwilling to free him.
“I missed you, Jem.” The muffle of his voice couldn’t disguise the emotion behind his words.
“Baby, I missed you, too.”
He pulled back, eyes glistening bright. The prisms affecting my vision told me mine held the same shine. As he rolled to his side, he took me with him
, snuggled me into his arms and lay watching me as though committing every feature to memory. The damp grass held freshness. The wood smoke swirled to tickle our nostrils. If not for the venue, it would have been a romantic moment.
A tilt of my face brought the moon into focus. Its fullness seemed imposing as it hovered directly above, the white face huge as it beamed down on us unmarred. Just the sight of it hastened my breaths.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmured.
I nodded, hypnotised by it. I knew he stared also, would be doing so with almost the same effect.
The distant clang of church bells broke the spell. I smiled at their echoed music. Only when I picked up the even more distant booms and fizzes of fireworks did it register. It hadn’t been bells but clock chimes announcing the arrival of midnight.
I twisted back to Sean, brushed my lips across his. “Happy New Year.”
Confusion filled his eyes. “What? How long have I been gone?”
“Too long—far too long.”
“But …Christmas—”
I placed a finger to his lips. “It’s not important. We’ll reschedule.”
He gazed into me for seconds before he smiled. “Happy New Year, Jem.”
Strengthening his hold once more, he rolled me, whispering a sensuous tune my body was more than capable of singing along to, and started the New Year as we intended to go on.
• • •
The forced shove to my head and its collision with Sean’s woke me from my deep slumber.
Sean gave a grunt and low spoken, “Ouch.”
I opened my eyes to Ethan, squatted above us, shaking his head.
“What the hell is wrong with you two? You stop for sex and a nap when there’s all this cleaning up to do?” The undisguised humour in his eyes belied the quiet harshness of his words.
A smirk played on my lips as I settled my gaze back on Sean. “You do it, Ethan. I’m dog-tired. You can wake me when you’re done.”
Blue Moon Page 32