by Grant, Donna
Moon Bound
LaRue Series, Book 4
Donna Grant
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
MOON BOUND
© 2017 by DL Grant, LLC
Excerpt from HEAT copyright © 2017 by Donna Grant
Cover design © 2015 by Leah Suttle
ISBN 10: 1942017448
ISBN 13: 978-1942017448
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce or transmit this book, or a portion thereof, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author. This book may not be resold or uploaded for distribution to others. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
www.DonnaGrant.com
www.MotherofDragonsBooks.com
Available in ebook and print editions.
Contents
Pronunciations & Glossary
Acknowledgments
A Message from Donna
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Afterword
Preview: HEAT
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Also from Donna Grant
About the Author
Pronunciations & Glossary
GLOSSARY:
Andouille (ahn-doo-ee) & Boudin (boo-dan)
Two types of Cajun sausage. Andouille is made with pork while boudin with pork and rice.
Bayou (by-you)
A sluggish stream bigger than a creek and smaller than a river
Beignet (bin-yay)
A fritter or doughnut without a hole, sprinkled with powdered sugar
Cajun (‘ka-jun)
A person of French-Canadian descent born or living along southern Louisiana.
Etoufee (ay-two-fay)
Tangy tomato-based sauce dish usually made with crawfish or shrimp and rice
Gumbo (gum-bo)
Thick, savory soup with chicken, seafood, sausage, or wild game
Hoodoo (hu-du)
Also known as “conjure” or witchcraft. Thought of as “folk magic” and “superstition”. Some say it is the main force against the use of Voodoo.
Jambalaya (jom-bah-LIE-yah)
Highly seasoned mixture of sausage, chicken, or seafood and vegetables, simmered with rice until liquid is absorbed
Maman (muh-mahn)
Term used for grandmother
Parish
A Louisiana state district; equivalent to the word county
Sha (a as in cat)
Term of affection meaning darling, dear, or sweetheart.
Voodoo (vu-du) – New Orleans
Spiritual folkways originating in the Caribbean. New Orleans Voodoo is separate from other forms (Haitian Vodou and southern Hoodoo). New Orleans Voodoo puts emphasis on Voodoo Queens and Voodoo dolls.
Zydeco (zy-dey-coh)
Accordion-based music originating in Louisiana combined with guitar and violin while combing traditional French melodies with Caribbean and blues influences
* * *
PRONUNCIATION:
Arcineaux (are-cen-o)
Chiasson (ch-ay-son)
Davena (dav-E-na)
Delia (d-ee-l-ee-uh)
Delphine (d-eh-l-FEEN)
Dumas (dOO-mah-s)
Lafayette (lah-fai-EHt)
LaRue (l-er-OO)
Acknowledgments
A special thanks goes out to my family who lives in the bayous of Louisiana. Those summers I spent there are some of my most precious memories. I also need to send a shout-out to my team. Hats off to my editor, Chelle Olson, and cover design extraordinaire, Leah Suttle. Thank you for helping me get this story out!
Lots of love to my amazing kiddos - Gillian and Connor. Thanks for putting up with my hectic schedule and for talking plot lines. And a special hug for the Grant furbabies - Sheba, Sassy, Diego, and Sisko.
Last but not least, my readers. You have my eternal gratitude for the amazing support you show me and my books. Y’all rock my world. Stay tuned at the end of the story for the first sneak peek at Heat, the next book in the Dragon Kings out January 30, 2018.
Xoxo
Donna
A Message from Donna
Dear Reader–
I wanted to send a special thank you to each and every one of you for going on this journey with me. I began writing the Chiasson series for my father who kept asking me why I continued to set books in Scotland when I could write about the places that were part of my heritage.
The Chiassons were born, and it wasn’t long before the LaRues jumped into the picture as well. I’ve had loads of fun with this fictional family, but some of the most special parts was putting in locations that I know well from my time with my real family in Louisiana. (My father grew up in Lyons Point, where the Chiassons home is.)
It has been a true pleasure to bring these characters to life for my father and you. I’ve enjoyed learning about each of them and watching them fall in love – and defeating the villains.
Since MOON BOUND wraps up both the series, it is a bittersweet moment. I hope that this story brings you pleasure since I had so much fun writing it as Kane was my favorite LaRue.
Here’s to cozy reading spots and swoon-worthy book boyfriends!
Lots of love,
DG
Prologue
Flames licked at his fur, singeing it. The scent of burning flesh filled his nostrils as he circled his foe. Kane snarled, showing the entity inhabiting the human form that he longed to rip his throat out.
George, for his part, didn’t appear to acknowledge Kane’s threat. Instead, the man watched Delphine. The Voodoo priestess who’d murdered Kane’s parents and wreaked havoc on New Orleans was surrounded by flames.
It wasn’t how Kane wanted to kill her, but it would be enough for the bitch to finally die. This wasn’t the only battle being waged, though. There was another on the streets, with his brothers and cousins facing Delphine’s followers. At least Riley made it safely outside with Marshall.
Kane paused, his ears pricking when he heard Riley shout his name. Being in werewolf form had its advantages. He wouldn’t have heard her otherwise. The fear in her voice made him glance around for other enemies. Kane released a howl to let his brothers know he was alive.
He spotted the cracking floor of the building even as Delphine rushed George. They all wanted each other dead, but Kane was no fool. He took his chance when he heard the groans of the building as it began to buckle.
The floor beneath his paws sank. Kane leapt into the air toward George, who was being bombarded by Delphine’s magic. Kane locked his jaws around George’s neck and yanked.
He heard the sound of bone snapping right before the floor collapsed.
1
July
There was nothing more enjoyable than a thunderstorm. Elise leaned a shoulder against the doorway and looked past the screen to the water falling from the eaves of the house.
It wasn’t a soft summer rain, but a storm brought on by the intense heat. The floodgates had been opened, and the ground greedily drank its fill. The clouds were churlish, dark against the bleak, gray sky. Lightning flashed all around, and thunder boomed loudly.
Elise looked out
over her back yard to the bayou beyond. The rain fell so hard and fast upon the water that it appeared as if the bayou were alive. The roar of the rain was comforting, the storm exhilarating.
A decidedly nice change from her quiet life.
She looked over her shoulder at the Siamese cat curled up on the back of the sofa, his blue eyes gazing with disdain at the weather. As soon as the cat rushed into the house earlier, Elise had known a storm was headed her way.
While Mr. Darcy liked to spend time outside, he preferred the comfort of being inside at night and anytime there was a storm. The scars on his face and ears proved that he was quite the scrapper—even against the animals of the swamp.
But at least the cat was smart enough to stay far away from the gators.
Elise chuckled and turned her gaze back out to the rain when Mr. Darcy yawned and put a paw over his eyes to sleep. She found her eyes scanning the area for signs of the black dog she’d spotted over the last few weeks. It was huge. At first, she’d thought it a wolf, but there were no wolves in Louisiana.
She’d left a bowl of food out for it, but so far, only the raccoons had enjoyed the meal. The last time she’d seen the dog, he was limping. It had been dusk, so she hadn’t been able to see his wound, but it needed to be cleaned before it got infected—and the beautiful dog became a meal for something else.
While she enjoyed the storm, it was messing with her routine. All her life, she’d been a bit OCD with things. And once she made her daily schedule, she hated when things interfered or prevented her from keeping to it.
After three years in the bayou, she should’ve been used to her perfectly planned days going to shit, but she couldn’t quite manage it. At least she no longer fretted about it—as much.
“One day changed both of our lives, Mr. Darcy,” she said, though the cat wasn’t listening.
Elise had gotten into the habit of talking to the cat, and sometimes, Mr. Darcy would stare at her as if he knew exactly what she said.
It wasn’t often that Elise thought of the day that had altered her life so drastically, but when she did, it was hard to shake off the memories. Or the horror of it all.
Her gaze lowered to the scars on her arms that she kept hidden with long sleeves. They were a constant reminder of how close to death she’d come.
But they couldn’t compare to the scars inside her.
She ran her hand down her arm, feeling the raised remnants through the linen of her shirt. It was silly to keep them hidden. Many in the small community had seen them already. Because they were the ones who’d saved her.
Elise swallowed as she recalled waking up delirious from a fever, to find herself in a place that would’ve sent her running if she’d been able.
Thankfully, her injuries, as well as several pairs of hands, kept her on the table. Elise had drifted in and out of consciousness. One time, she’d opened her eyes to see an old Creole woman tending to one of the many cuts on her body.
“Be easy, child,” she’d told Elise in a calm, assertive voice.
Elise had looked into the woman’s black eyes and saw kindness and wisdom. The next time she woke, Elise found herself staring up at dried herbs, bones strung together and clacking with the wind, as well as the jawbones of several various-sized alligators.
Miss Babette used her skills and knowledge of herbal medicine that had been passed down through generations of her family to tend to Elise’s injuries.
It took weeks of convalescing in Babette’s house for Elise to heal. She’d learned to shell peas, often woke to the smell of freshly baked bread, and discovered that the slow pace and quiet of the bayou suited her.
Elise never returned to New Orleans after that. She bought a small house and continued her veterinarian practice in the bayou. Instead of the nice sums of money she used to make, she accepted food and other goods in exchange for her services.
And she found contentment.
It wasn’t the grand life she’d imagined for herself, but it was a good one. She had true friends who cared about her. Instead of having neighbors she rarely saw and never spoke with in a city, those around her visited often, and there was no going to the store without running into someone and sharing a thirty-minute conversation.
It wasn’t just time that moved differently here, the people did, as well. They preferred companionship and waving to each other as you drove down the road to the hustle and bustle of the city, where everyone was chained to their electronics.
Her clientele included cats and dogs but had also expanded to include cattle, horses, goats, chickens, sheep, and pigs, among other animals. Every day was an adventure, but she was safe. And that’s what counted.
Her phone rang, drawing her attention from the storm. She walked to the old rotary phone that hung on the kitchen wall and answered it.
Elise smiled as soon as she heard Ed Perkins’ aged voice on the other end of the line. “It’s best for you not to venture out for our appointment. I don’t like the idea of you driving in this weather.”
“It’s just a little storm.”
“Don’t make an old man worry,” he replied tersely. “I’ll call tomorrow to reschedule.”
“Yes, sir.”
There was a pause before he asked, “Do you need anything, girl?”
She grinned. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Remember, now. Stay indoors. Don’t you go out after some animal until the rain stops. It’s gonna be a bad one. Heed my words.”
“I will, Mr. Perkins.”
She hung up the phone and shook her head. Despite giving her cell phone number out, many of the older folks preferred to call the house.
Mr. Perkins had lost his daughter to a head-on collision fifteen years before, and he often called to check on Elise. His fatherly attention was sweet. Especially since her own father was dead.
Elise walked to the fridge and took out the fresh beans Mrs. Baker had given her and began setting out the ingredients for red beans and rice. It was the perfect meal to cook all day in the Crock-Pot for dinner.
When she finished getting everything ready and into the slow cooker, she turned it on and headed to the corner of her small living room where she’d set up a desk.
After checking her planner, she began making calls to her clients to confirm scheduled appointments. Not a single person wanted to keep theirs. For the next thirty minutes, Elise rescheduled everyone.
It was rare for her to have a day to herself during the week. Well, even on the weekend, if she were honest. The lifestyle everyone led here didn’t go by the usual times in the city. Few made appointments. Most just called or showed up with whatever animal was in need.
But Elise was going to take advantage of the storm. She set her pencil down, closed her laptop, and pushed back from the desk. She grabbed the top book on the stack that kept growing—weekly—and curled up on the sofa with Mr. Darcy lifting his head to see what she was doing.
As soon as she got comfortable, the cat jumped down from his perch and walked in a circle on her stomach three times before he finally laid down with a loud sigh.
Elise opened the book, but before she could read the first word, her gaze was drawn out the screen door again. The lightning flashed, her eyes following the zigzags as her door outlined it.
Mesmerized, she watched the storm until her eyes grew heavy and she began to drift off to sleep. Elise shifted lower onto the couch so her head was on a pillow.
Mr. Darcy butted her hand with his head. She yawned as she scratched the cat, his loud purring making her smile. This was the life. She didn’t need—nor want—anything else.
She was doing what she loved, surrounded by those she cared about and who cared about her. She was no longer trapped in a materialistic society, working long hours while trying to maintain a social life. She no longer went to the gym and worried about her weight or if her stomach was flat enough. She ate what she wanted, when she wanted.
In many ways, she was richer now than she’d ever been in the cit
y.
But it had come at a price.
2
The rain washed everything new again. Usually, Kane loved a good downpour, but not this time. It messed with his ability to smell. And he’d gotten so close to his quarry.
He blew out a breath and sat beneath a tree. It’d been over two months since Delphine and George attacked Riley, and Kane was no closer to finding the Voodoo priestess.
Kane spent many of his days in werewolf form. His senses were more acute, and they allowed him to track Delphine. Except every time he got close, she disappeared.
He stood and shook out his fur. The loudness of the rain made him antsy since anyone—or anything—could sneak up on him. Kane kept his head on a swivel.
Damn, but he was tired. The injury he’d gotten from a bobcat the other night wasn’t getting any better. Not to mention the drunk idiots with their lights off who’d grazed his back leg with their car before he could get out of the way when he was distracted chasing Delphine’s scent.
So many times, he thought of returning to his brothers. No doubt they were at the family bar, Gator Bait. He longed to walk into the establishment and gorge himself on crawfish étouffée and fresh bread while downing as many beers as he could.
His mouth watered just thinking about it. And he’d do it while being surrounded by his brothers and their women.
