Blood Moon Rising Box Set (Books 1-6)

by Lola Taylor

  Danica smiled. She couldn’t wait. “Are Nik and Alara really leaving tomorrow morning?”

  “Yes,” Gage said, his eyes growing troubled. “Nik says he doesn’t mind taking over as the new Alpha of the Moonstruck Pack, and that Alara doesn’t have a problem with moving. I think she has enough bad memories of this place and needs to start over somewhere.”

  Danica waited. “But?” she asked gently.

  Gage sighed. “But I know how reluctant Nik was to lead. I tried pushing the Alpha role on him sooner, but he would have no part of it.”

  “People change,” Danica said simply. “Look at us. You didn’t want to be High King, and now you’re excited.”

  Gage’s eyes sparkled. “It couldn’t have worked out any better,” he admitted. “I was afraid this position would put you in more danger, but now I see you couldn’t be any better protected than where you are right now. And I have so many ideas I want to implement. I really think I can do our race some good.”

  Danica squeezed his hand. “And I’ll be right here beside you.” She sat her champagne flute down on the nightstand and rolled over onto her back with a sigh. “Now I just have to figure out what I want to do. I can’t just sit idly by and do nothing with my power. I have to make good use of it.”

  “You’ll think of something,” Gage said, curling up beside her. A mischievous glimmer caught his eyes as he slowly smiled. “You know what jump-starts inspiration?”

  “Hmmm?”

  He nipped at her earlobe, his voice growing huskier. “Sex. Lots of hot, pre-honeymoon sex.”

  Danica felt her nipples pucker in anticipation. “I haven’t heard that theory, but I’m willing to test it out.”

  She wrapped her arms around him as he began to undress her.

  Danica squinted against the late afternoon sunlight. It cascaded along the top of the forest below the cabin and silhouetted the mountain in the distance. The sky was a clear blue, gradually becoming more orange the closer you looked at the horizon.

  She had never been to Boulder, Colorado, but she never wanted to leave. Up here in the mountains, among nature in Gage’s private cabin, her old worries felt like they were a world away.

  They’d been there for a week on their honeymoon, and it was everything she had imagined it would be. Lots of private time with Gage, most of which was spent having hot sex or lying in a tangle of limbs on their bed while cuddling and laughing; roaming the forest in their wolf forms, since he owned the property and hunters weren’t allowed; no one trying to kill her or break them up….

  You really learned to appreciate “the joy of life” after someone tried to take yours away.

  Feeling more relaxed and at peace than she had in years, she closed her eyes and inhaled the crisp, fresh air.

  A familiar scent trailed toward her nose, and she leaned backward as Gage’s arms wrapped around her.

  “Hmmm,” she murmured dreamily, tipping her head back to give him a kiss. “I could get used to this.”

  “Me too.”

  “Do we really have to leave tomorrow?”

  He winced. “Afraid so.”

  She sighed and rested her head back against his chest. “I knew we’d have to go back to our lives eventually.” She smiled. “I still can’t believe we’re royalty, like, the royalty.”

  “That makes two of us, love,” he said, smiling back, although it looked forced.

  She could sense his nervous energy, and she reached out to squeeze his arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right here beside you. We’ll figure it out together.”

  His features relaxed. “I couldn’t ask for a better queen. I can’t wait to see you as a mother. You’re going to be outstanding.”

  She whirled around. “Mother?”

  “Yeah,” he said with a devilish grin, leaning in to nuzzle her earlobe. “The way we’ve been going at it, I wouldn’t be surprised if pups were on the way.”

  Her face flamed. Sure, it had crossed her mind she could become pregnant since they didn’t use protection. But children—er, “pups”—were the furthest thing from her mind.

  The thought of being a mother and creating a family with Gage filled her with joy. Her eyes slicked with tears, and she smiled broadly. “That sounds wonderful,” she whispered to him.

  His eyes ducked to her lips and he bent his head to kiss her.

  “Oh!” she said, putting a finger to his lips to stop him. “That reminds me.” An excited sparkle filled her eyes. “I know what I want to use my newly given power for.”

  He raised his brows, smiling. “Oh?”

  She nodded firmly. She’d never been so sure of anything in her life, other than mating with Gage. “I’m going to abolish that vile law about unmated she-wolves. I want to be an advocate for she-wolf rights. And not just she-wolves, but any creature that’s unfairly treated. It just isn’t right, and dammit, I’m not going to stand by when I can do something about it!”

  She barely got the last words out when Gage leaned forward and kissed her passionately. “I’m so proud of you,” he said, cupping her face in his hands.

  She beamed at him.

  He started to kiss her again when his cell phone went off.

  Danica broke off to say, “Shouldn’t you get that? It could be important.”

  “If it is, they’ll leave a message or call back.” He enslaved her mouth once more.

  The phone finally stopped ringing only to start up again a few seconds later.

  And again a third and fourth time.

  Finally, Gage pulled away with a growl and said, “I can’t even enjoy my damn honeymoon without interruption?” He stalked over to the phone and frowned.

  Danica came up beside him and peered over his shoulder to look at the Caller ID. “Unknown,” she murmured, looking at him in question.

  He shrugged and pressed talk. “Who is this?”

  Danica could hear a woman speaking on the other end. “Um, Gage? Gage Johnson?”

  “Yes?” he said tersely.

  “Um, sorry to bother you. Is this a bad time?”

  “Yes,” he said slowly, but he didn’t elaborate. “Who is this?”

  “Oh, jeez.” The sound of flesh hitting flesh, like someone smacked their palm against their forehead, came through the other line. “I’m sorry. I forgot I’m borrowing a phone. This is Verika Tate.”

  Verika, Verika…. Danica remembered that name. Wasn’t she the ex-girlfriend of Nik’s who joined the DPI as a field agent? What was she doing blowing up Gage’s phone?

  Gage blinked in surprise. “I didn’t recognize your voice,” he said, his tone noticeably softer. “Sorry for being short with you. What’s wrong?”

  Silence met his question. “Verika?” he asked.

  “Yes, yes, I’m still here. Sorry.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “Gosh, I don’t know where to begin.”

  “Just start at the beginning,” Gage said calmly.

  “Um… we’ve apprehended someone tied to the witch mafia. We believe he has a direct link to Mistress Black.”

  They both leaned into the phone, their spines straightening. “And?” Gage asked eagerly. “Did you find out anything?”

  “He won’t talk. And I’m hesitant to use… other methods of persuasion on him.”

  “Why on earth not? If he’s responsible in any way for the deaths of all those people—”

  “He’s your brother!” Verika blurted.

  Gage’s words dried up and he went perfectly still.

  Danica froze, unsure what to say.

  When Gage finally recovered, he blinked and shouted, “Nik is in jail?”

  “Easy on the yelling, big boy,” Verika said gently. “And no, of course it’s not Nik. I meant your other brother.”

  “I have no other….” Gage’s voice trailed off as a haunted look came over his eyes. “No,” he whispered. “It can’t be. He’s dead.”

  “Well, I’m looking at him right now, and he seems very much alive to me.”

  Gage
gripped the cell phone so hard, Danica was afraid he might break it. She reached up to steady him. “Gage?” she asked softly.

  Gage’s grip faltered, and he nearly dropped the phone. Slowly, he looked at Danica, his eyes wide.

  “It’s my eldest brother, Elijah. He’s alive.”

  END OF BOOK 3

  Rogue werewolf Elijah Johnson would have been better off dead. After being held hostage by a coven of malicious witches—witches who seem to know much more about the dark arts than they should—he takes the first chance he can to escape, only to fall into a trap a month later. When he’s captured during a DPI bust, he expects to be thrown into prison. He doesn’t expect to learn his interrogator is a curvy young witch with hair the color of fire and enough passion for the law to match…

  Verika Tate has spent her career trying to uphold the values and morals of law enforcement in the Underworld. Only twenty-six, she is heralded as one of the most gifted witches in the southeastern region. Her life is, for the most part, uneventful. She attends her weekly spellbook club meetings, works out daily to try to shed some stubborn fat that refuses to leave, and buries her nose in the latest witchcraft magazines. Learning is her shield and her only defense for being able to forget the werewolf who broke her heart—Nik Johnson…

  When she’s assigned to Elijah, she can hardly believe how rotten her luck is. He looks enough like Nik to haunt her, and his hard muscle and flirtatious quips are enough to make her pant. Verika struggles to keep her heart out of her work, a point which proves especially tricky when Elijah reveals an astonishing secret that could finally break the case she’s been trying to crack—the whereabouts of the mysterious Mistress Black, leader of the witch mafia. The tip is too good to pass up, and she reluctantly agrees to help him escape the witches who have placed a bounty on his head in exchange for information.

  Will Verika uphold the law at any cost, or will she risk everything for the sake of a once-in-a-lifetime romance?

  Elijah Johnson stumbled in the darkness. For all his grace as a werewolf, he was clumsy as an injured human.

  More like a drugged human.

  The potion he’d drunk to break the Tracking spell on him was strong. It laced his veins with venom, making him delirious as he ran. He would have preferred to run on four paws, but one of the side effects of the potion was that it muted his ability to change.

  Fine by him. No price was too high if it meant escaping this hell on earth.

  He didn’t dare look back at the mansion behind him, though he could feel it watching him, like a sentient being.

  Damn those witches.

  The place gave him the damn creeps. Not for the first time, he inwardly kicked himself for being so reckless and getting drawn into their fucked-up world.

  Not that he had anything against witches. That is, he didn’t have a grudge before all this shit straight out of a horror movie happened.

  Now… he’d never go near another damn witch again.

  Run. Run faster.

  The woods seemed to be closing in on him, but that was probably just his paranoia. At least, he thought it was until a tree root lifted of its own accord and tripped him. He swore, swinging his arms out to right his balance.

  A groan, followed by splintering wood, came from beside him. He looked up to see the tree bending over.

  Shit like this shouldn’t have surprised him. God knows he’d seen enough weird things in the Order to make most sane people lose their minds.

  But seeing a tree falling toward him, to watch its bark twist and snap as it fought to angle itself just right, still made him pause.

  Snap out of it, dipshit!

  Shaking his head, he blinked and leapt out of the way at the last second. The tree came crashing down, making the ground shudder.

  Dammit, if they hadn’t realized he’d escaped before, they sure as hell would now. He needed to haul ass out of here, pronto.

  Scrambling to his feet, he struggled up the hill as the air filled with the rustle of thousands of leaves and the groan of snapping wood.

  He caught movement from the corners of his eyes, and he glanced around him.

  His eyes widened. Shit.

  The whole damned forest was coming to life.

  Moonlight shone through the trees, dappling the forest floor with patches of silver light. It danced and shifted as the trees uprooted themselves and began to stalk toward him. Even the bushes rustled and chittered like angry dogs.

  Damn!

  He knew there was a spell around the perimeter to keep him from leaving. He thought he’d broken it, along with the other five back-up spells they’d cast. He had not detected this.

  Those bitches had sent a tree army after him.

  He growled and tried going faster, but it was all he could do to keep up the pace he was going. The potion made him slow. He hadn’t counted on it being this bad. In order to keep them from catching on, he couldn’t afford to test the potion before using it.

  Another reckless risk on his part, in a long list of many.

  He squinted. Just ahead, up on a hill, sat the dirt path leading to the enchanted mansion. Seeing that road filled him with renewed hope, spurring him to run faster. His heels dug into the earth, swiftly finding purchase on the soil as he scurried toward the path to freedom.

  Not far now…

  He was going to make it.

  A whip-like vine shot out of the darkness, lassoing his neck. It jerked backward, tugging him back toward the woods. With a yelp, he lost his footing and fell over a log that had positioned itself to trip him.

  So help him God, he was going to set this whole place on fire if he ever did escape.

  The hill flew past his line of vision in a blur of moss, weeds, and moonlight. The breath left him as his back slammed against the ground. The back of his head banged against a rock, making him see stars for a few seconds. Sharp pain shot through the back of his skull, and he bit down on his lip to keep from crying out.

  Vines tangled around his limbs as he struggled to get up. He snarled and fought, reaching inside himself to try to summon his inner wolf, but it wouldn’t come.

  He was alone.

  The ground began to sink around him. Feeling fresh, damp soil pouring onto his body, his terror spiked and he fought like a man possessed.

  Apparently, the plants had decided it would be a good idea to bury him alive. More like, the witches had decided to bury him alive.

  This was just like Black to pull this twisted shit. She was probably watching him right now in a crystal ball or something, laughing her ass off.

  At one point in his life, he might have found it funny, too. A practical joke. He had been a very different man a year ago, had done a lot of shit he regretted, things that kept him up at night.

  He never should have come here. Now, it looked like he was never going to leave.

  As he sank deeper into the earth, surrounded by darkness, a seductive voice whispered a message inside his head.

  “I told you, Elijah. We’re meant to be together. You’ll never be able to escape me.”

  “Damn… you…” he got out, right before the earth collapsed on top of him completely and all went pitch-black.

  “Hey, wake up, bub! Get out! We’re here.”

  “Huh?” Elijah’s head lolled forward. His chin smacked against his chest, driving his teeth into his tongue. He winced as blood filled his mouth. His head felt like it was full of goop. Son of a bitch, was he groggy. That damned potion had done a number on him.

  A hand grabbed his arm and tugged. “Didn’t you hear me, pot head? I said get the hell out of my truck.”

  “Jesus, all right,” Elijah said, waving the irritable truck driver off. “I’m moving.”

  Though he was still dizzy as hell, he managed to clamber out of the truck and grab his duffel bag. He looked like shit. The bill on his ball cap was crooked, and the Velcro adjustment on the back had been torn off. It, more or less, just lay on his head. Dirt covered his stolen jeans and the soles
were coming undone on his boots, which were about a size too small. His dingy navy blue T-shirt had definitely seen better days. He didn’t think the holes in it were of the fashionable kind.

  The truck driver raised his brows and crossed his arms. “Well? You gonna pay?”

  Elijah had enough sense left to look around. “This is the middle of nowhere. I told you to take me to Destiny.”

  “We are in Destiny, the city limits anyway.” He turned pointed behind them, to some lights Elijah could barely make out in the distance. “It’s about twenty miles or so down that way. If you hurry, you can be there before dawn.”

  Elijah’s teeth ground together. “I said take me to Destiny, not twenty miles outside of Destiny.”

  “I said I’d get you as close as I could.” He glanced around, as if expecting someone to pop out of the sprawling, grassy plains around them. “Word over the radio has it the DPI has been crawling over that place for the past week. Don’t know what they’re looking for, but I can’t afford to get caught.”

  “Yeah,” Elijah said dryly, glancing at the back of the semi in the cargo bay. “All those crates of illegal potions might not go over too well with them.”

  That spooked the man. “Just pay me my money so I can be on my way, asshole.”

  Elijah growled low in his throat, his eyes flashing gold. He could tear into this man and leave him here for dead. A year ago, he might have. But he wasn’t that man anymore. He’d stopped batting for Team Evil a long time ago, as soon as its charm wore off.

  Elijah reached into his back pocket for his billfold and produced a hundred-dollar bill. “Here you go.”

  The man took it and frowned. “I said two hundred.”

  “You said no such thing. And if you try to scam me, I may have to reconsider punching in what teeth you have left.”

  Fear flashed through the man’s eyes for a second. Spitting on the ground, he stalked toward his cab with a scowl. “Damn werewolves,” he muttered. “Can’t trust any of ’em.”