To Crave a Blood Moon

by Sharie Kohler

  Upon reaching his floor, he hesitated outside Ruby’s room. No sound reached him. She probably slept. He lifted his hand to knock, then let it drop to his side.

  Tomorrow would be soon enough. For now, he would let her sleep.

  At eleven the following morning, Sebastian’s patience came to an end.

  He rose from a chair in the sitting area of Rafe’s room, where his fingers had been tapping a heavy staccato on the arm. Their luggage sat near the door, waiting for their departure.

  Kit and Rafe rose as one from the couch across from him, apparently reading his intention. “You sure you don’t want to join us?”

  “Ruby and I need to get on the trail before it grows cold.”

  Rafe drilled him with a knowing stare. “You have absolutely no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

  Gideon snorted from where he sat.

  Sebastian inhaled deeply. “Yeah, I do. I’m keeping her alive. And making sure she doesn’t hurt anyone in the process.”

  Rafe shook his head and brought his wife close to his side. He was always doing that. Touching her. Pulling her near him. As if he couldn’t breathe without the feel of her against him. He’d never seen his brother like this. Happy.

  “When will you visit us?” he asked. “Fishing’s great this time of year.” They lived in the small Texas town of Palacios, keeping a low profile since they had been targeted for elimination by NODEAL.

  “Soon,” he promised.

  “Keep us informed, Seb.”

  Sebastian nodded.

  Darius had left sometime in the night. Eager to be in his own home… and closer to his staff and steelenforced room. One look at that hard-faced bastard and Sebastian felt only relief. Hunger brewed inside him. If that lycan ever broke loose, the world was in trouble.

  He gave Rafe a quick hug before departing. He even hugged his sister-in-law. The little firecracker made Rafe happy. For that alone, he loved her.

  As he shook March’s hand, his thoughts drifted to Ruby. Several rooms over. His blood thickened in his veins, body tensing with eagerness.

  Soon he was striding down the corridor. Rounding the corner, he paused. A housekeeping cart sat parked outside her room’s door. Dread churned in his stomach. Shoving the cart aside, he stalked into the room. The maid squeaked and clutched a cleaning rag to her chest.

  “Where is she?” he barked.

  The woman shook her head wildly, and he cursed. Sweeping the empty room another look, he cursed again. He didn’t need to interrogate the maid to learn the truth. The truth glared him straight in the face. Ruby was gone.

  Sebastian inhaled. Only a faint whiff of her remained. She had left some time ago. Probably last night. Damn her.

  He charged from the room and headed back down the hall. After several pounds of his fist on the door, Rafe opened it. Kit peered around her husband, her carry-on bag slung over her shoulder and sunglasses pushed back on her head.

  “She’s gone.” He drove a hard line into the room, slamming the door behind him. “Left in the middle of the night. Can you believe it?” But the thing was… he could. When that building exploded and she hadn’t reverted back, he’d seen the desolation in her face… her despair.

  “What?” Rafe shook his head, clearly sharing his frustration. “Doesn’t she want to hunt the alpha so she can break her curse—”

  He snorted. “Apparently she doesn’t put a lot of faith in that plan. Or me.”

  “Maybe you didn’t give her a reason to stay,” Kit suggested.

  He glared at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Kit rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Sebastian. Anyone with eyes could see there’s something between you two.”

  “So what?” Rafe snapped. “The woman shouldn’t let her emotions get the best of her.” Kit snorted, but he continued, waving a hand. “The moon’s coming. She can’t hide from it.” He looked at Sebastian. “Where do you think she went?”

  “I know where she went.” Home. Where she usually hid from the world. He grimaced. She was accustomed to hiding what she was. This was only another reason for her to bury herself away.

  Only Sebastian wouldn’t let her.

  “I know where she went. And I’m going to get her.”

  “She might not have gone home, if that’s what you’re thinking,” March murmured.

  Sebastian’s head snapped in his direction, a dangerous churning starting in his gut. “What do you mean?”

  “Darius left last night. Remember?”

  He stared for a long moment at Gideon March, understanding sinking in. Rage erupted in his chest, spreading outward in a feral heat. The sensation grew, only burning hotter when he recalled Darius’s interested gaze on Ruby time and time again last night. The beast clawed up from deep inside him.

  “Get a hold of yourself,” Rafe warned, watching his face closely, no doubt seeing the evidence of his rage.

  “She went with him,” he muttered, her betrayal a hot knife to his flesh.

  “You don’t know that.” Kit shot her brother a fuming look-what-you-did glare.

  March shrugged. “He tried it with Claire when she was infected.”

  “Tried what?” Sebastian’s fists flexed at his sides, bones stretching, bending, edging toward the beast. He took a deep breath, trying to regain control.

  “When my wife was a newly turned lycan, Darius stole her from me. Tried to make her his mate—”

  “I’ll kill him,” he announced.

  March held a hand up in the air. “Now hold on. Claire wanted no part of him, so he let her go. He offered her the protection of himself… and his resources.” He paused. “To someone scared and newly turned, that kind of guarantee of safety is tempting.”

  “You’re saying she went with him to Houston? Willingly.”

  “If she even went with him,” Rafe inserted, staring intently at Sebastian, trying to reach that part of him that threatened to spill over and consume him in a blistering burn. “This is all just speculation.”

  He clenched his jaw and gave a tight nod. “Well, let’s make it fact, then.”

  Rafe settled back on his heels. “You’ll go to the States.”

  “First Louisiana, then Houston.” He hoped he found her at her home, but either way he was beyond pissed. And he was going to let her know it.

  Kit shook her head. “Looking at you right now—” She broke off with a sigh and dragged a hand through her hair, ruffling the dark blond strands. “Hell, I feel sorry for her.”

  “Yeah?” he bit out. “Well, don’t. She chose her path.”

  And he would make certain she regretted it.

  “Thanks for picking me up,” Ruby said as she slid inside the front passenger seat to a welcome blast of air conditioning. Relieved to be home, she couldn’t help smiling. Buckling her seat belt, several moments passed before she realized the car hadn’t pulled away from the curb.

  As jets swooshed overhead, she turned to face Adele and felt her smile falter. Never had she seen her friend look so furious. Her gray eyes glittered, and her knuckles clenched white where they gripped the steering wheel.

  “I thought you were dead,” she bit out.

  A shuttle van honked behind them and Ruby motioned weakly for them to drive. “Shouldn’t you go?”

  Adele yanked the car into drive. Ruby winced.

  “I oughta kick your ass to the curb, Ruby Deveraux! The nerve of you calling me an hour ago with an I’m back! Can you pick me up?” Her thumb began a furious beat on the steering wheel as they left the Lafayette airport behind.

  “Dead. Do you hear me? That’s what Rosemary told me to expect when you left the hotel looking for some girls who ran off. That was over a week ago!” She stopped at a red light, shaking her head. Her abundance of russet-brown hair tossed against her shoulders. Truly wild hair. Some strands curly, some just wavy, some frizz. Even a few pieces fell straight. “Do you know what I’ve been through?”

  Ruby’s voice fell soft, regretful. “No.�
� She’d been too busy surviving to consider how her disappearance may have affected Adele.

  The light turned green, and Adele gunned her hatchback as fast as it could go. Ruby’s head slammed back on the headrest.

  “Take it easy.”

  “Easy? Easy? Where the hell have you been? Rosemary has been no help whatsoever. I started to wonder if she had something to do with it. Maybe she sold you into a white slave ring or something.”

  Ruby laughed. She couldn’t help it. Then the thought of all she had been through hit her and her laughter died an abrupt death. The reality of the last weeks seemed even less probable than being sold into white slavery. And she needed to explain the truth to Adele. Every incredible, implausible detail. When she could hardly believe it all herself.

  Back on American soil, Istanbul—Sebastian—seemed a lifetime ago. By now he would have woken, would have realized she’d left during the night. And likely with whom. The thought made her stomach knot.

  Darius had been true to his word. He kept to his seat on his side of the plane, never even engaging her in conversation. Except when they landed. Then the dark-haired lycan had shoved his card into her hand and told her she could count on him should she change her mind. Strangely, it gave her some comfort. Until she remembered that taking his protection meant taking him as a mate. She was certain that caveat hadn’t changed.

  “I understand your anger. Let’s just wait until we’re home and then I’ll explain everything.” She would hate for Adele to run off the road. She’d always been an emotional driver—she had always been emotional—and this would likely send her into a ditch.

  “Fine,” Adele grumbled. “I didn’t let Rosemary know you’re home, but you’re going to have to call her. She’s in a real temper. Her supervisor is expected home any day. He flew over there to work with the local police as they investigated the girls’ disappearance.” Adele lifted a hand and made quotation marks with her fingers at the word investigation.

  That Adele did not include her in the mention of an investigation did not surprise her. The girls were minors. More focus would fall on them than a missing adult. Not that Ruby expected much of a search to continue for the girls either. Not without parents pressuring from home. Her throat tightened. Soon they would be forgotten. Two files in some foreign office. Lives lost, histories never told, never known. Bleakness filled her heart.

  “I’ll call tomorrow and let them know I’m back.”

  Adele sent her a sly glance before looking out the front windshield again. Ruby knew she sounded ambivalent, which she wasn’t. Far from it. She simply knew the girls were dead. What good would it do to call Rosemary and have her rush over with a barrage of questions that would serve no purpose now?

  Almost an hour later, they pulled up in front of Ruby’s old farmhouse. Her Corolla sat beneath the two-vehicle carport she’d put up last year. Two-vehicle. As if she had been holding out hope for another soul to take up residence with her.

  She sat in the car for a long moment, staring at the house through the window. It looked smaller. A forlorn shape beneath draping cypresses and sycamores. The once-cheery yellow paint had faded more than she realized. So much that the house she loved, that she clung to like a life raft, looked dingy.

  She remembered when her mother painted the house. It had been one of those projects she created following an incident. Her projects would take her mind off whatever happened, let her pretend it had not occurred, keeping her preoccupied, away from Ruby for a spell. Until she got over it.

  The time her mother painted the house, it involved Ruby’s refusal to spend the night with Ritabeth, the Methodist preacher’s daughter. When Momma asked why, Ruby told her that Ritabeth didn’t really like her. That Ritabeth’s daddy had the hots for Momma and made his daughter invite Ruby for a sleepover. Just so he could see Momma. Of course, all this she had gleaned through her gift. Momma understood that at once.

  Soon after, Momma stopped asking questions that began with why. Around that time, she just gave up. Period. When she died two years later, Ruby felt her relief as she drew her last sip of breath. Even Momma turned out not so very different than her father. Her method of escape just differed from his.

  “Getting out?”Adele’s question snapped her to attention.

  Nodding, she stepped from the car and walked to the front porch. Adele, who had kept her keys for safekeeping, handed them to her. Unlocking the door, she stepped inside.

  The house smelled musty, airless. She dropped her keys on the table near the door and made a beeline for her couch. A refuge of sorts. She had spent many a night there, both with Adele and without, a pint of Ben and Jerry’s in her lap, watching movies. The old ones were her favorites. Jimmy Stewart movies. Shenandoah, Rear Window, It’s a Wonderful Life. Dropping onto the worn cushions, she kicked off her shoes and curled her feet beneath her.

  “All right.” Adele dropped on the loveseat. Perfect breasts pushed against her bright orange tank top where the words BEACH OR BUST were written. She curled her legs on the couch, her pink flowy skirt draping artfully without the slightest effort. With her Heidi Klum body, she had guys calling for a date every night. “Dish. And what’s with the freaky contacts?”

  Hopefully, Adele would accept what Ruby was about to tell her. Adele knew the extraordinary existed. They never discussed the extent of Ruby’s abilities, but Adele knew. Accepted.

  “So,” she began, clearing her throat. “Have you ever heard the word lycan before?”

  19

  The night hummed outside her window. Alive in a way she had never noticed before and her new animal self felt acutely linked to. Even the trees outside her window seemed to breathe, leaves rustling, life pulsing deep beneath the bark.

  Ruby moved from the window, setting her alarm to seven. She would prefer not setting it at all, but she needed to resume life, and that meant facing the day bright and early. After Adele left, she’d gone into town and bought groceries—enough for herself and enough to get back into the swing of work.

  At the top of tomorrow’s list: a call to Rosemary. Her second goal came as the result of her long, exhausting conversation with Adele. After explaining everything, Adele had promised her support and the two of them put their heads together, trying to figure out how they were going to cope with the coming full moon.

  Adele’s cousin seemed the natural solution. A pharmacy school drop-out, Dwayne’s abuse and marketing of prescription drugs was widely known throughout the parish. Suddenly his criminal activities were to their benefit. When they began contemplating how to get their hands on sedatives, his name was the first on their lips.

  Sighing, she stretched. Her sheets felt good, the cool, crisp cotton a welcome chill against her bare legs. Even with the air conditioner running a steady purr, the old house never got too cool, baking all day in the wet heat. She laced her fingers over her stomach and stared into the dark. In her mind, she calculated the time in Turkey. What was Sebastian doing? Was he still there? An unwanted throb started in the core of her at the thought of him. He could have gone to any one of his apartments. She supposed none really qualified as a home. But with his nomadic existence, he didn’t require one. Without her as a rock about his neck, he had probably returned to his hunting.

  She thought about how intensely she had wanted—needed—to return here, to reach home, refuge. She did not have much in the way of people, but she had this house.

  Sebastian didn’t have that. Nor did he seem to want it—to want anything or anyone. It only reminded her of their differences and confirmed in her mind that leaving was for the best.

  She closed her eyes, commanding herself to sleep. To forget. To forget him.

  The world outside hummed and pulsed in rhythm to her heart, a primeval symphony. Soon her breathing fell soft, even and regular with that world. And she drifted off to sleep.

  She woke with sudden alertness, pouncing up on all fours on the bed. The old mattress’s springs gave the barest squeak. She held herself s
till, head cocked to the side, listening to the night, to the humming world outside, the barely perceptible sounds of her house settling its old bones. Nothing.

  She didn’t hear anything, but she knew. She felt.

  She wasn’t alone. Someone else was here. Close.

  She vaulted off the bed and landed on the floor, silent as a cat on the balls of her feet. But she didn’t have time to marvel at her agility. Using every one of her newly developed senses, she slipped from her room.

  Soundless as the breath of death, she slid along the hall’s wall, close as plaster, palms skimming. Not a sound rose on the air and yet every hair on her body stood on end, tingling and vibrating with awareness. Her fingers stretched against the wall, then flexed into a curling fist.

  Even with her light tread, the bottom step on the stair creaked as it always did. She winced, waiting for someone to dart out from behind a piece of furniture.

  Nothing.

  She released the breath she had been holding and continued, eyes peering easily through the darkened house, missing nothing.

  She froze. Her scalp tightening, tingling. Her heart rate accelerated in her too-tight chest. A strong current of emotion slammed into her. Fury. Exhilaration. She looked up at the precise moment a figure dropped down from the air, landing in front of her.

  She reacted. Didn’t think.

  Without a sound, her hand lashed out, striking the intruder in the face. She registered the crunch of bone against her hand. Shocked at the speed of her reflexes and her own strength, she hesitated. Just a second of pause. A second too long.

  She pulled her arm back for a second blow, but she never had the chance to unleash it.

  A hard fist closed around her own hand. She tugged. Winced at the crushing force tightening around her fingers. He was strong. Stronger than her. Not human.

  Panting, her gaze traveled from the large hand holding her fist hostage to the face in front of her. Sebastian. He stared at her, all hard, unforgiving angles, his chilled stare striking coldness in her heart.