Moonspun

by Michele Hauf

  * * *

  Creed returned from the forest where he’d called out the faery according to the ritual Rhys Hawkes had emailed him. Blu was going to be thrilled to learn what he’d done.

  He paused, propping the toe of his boot against the chain-link gate that surrounded the immediate grounds and which had once been warded against werewolves and faeries. No longer. He glanced to the mansion. The first pale beams of sunlight burnished the rooftop. She wouldn’t be back from her run yet. He could go in and set up a surprise for her.

  But intuition told him to keep what he’d done tonight to himself. Telling Blu would only give her hope. And what if it didn’t work? He would learn soon enough if the boon the faery had granted him actually proved true. And perhaps he’d never have to reveal what he’d promised in return. It might never come to pass. And if it did, they would handle that together when the time came.

  “I did the right thing,” he muttered. “We will have family,” he said more firmly, to reassure himself. “I just hope it doesn’t break Blu’s heart.”

  Suddenly a gunshot echoed in the darkness. Creed twisted, pricking his ears to gauge the location of the shot. He waited. No further sounds.

  “Damned farmer,” he muttered.

  And then he clutched his chest. Blu was out there. Somewhere. He’d best take a walk along the property border.

  Chapter Three

  Creed walked into the kitchen and smiled to find his wife eating her usual mixing bowl full of crunchy cereal and milk. Today’s wig color was hot pink, which matched the latex dress she wore over fishnet stockings. The stripper heels glinted with rhinestones and he was pretty sure they were pushing six inches.

  He did love his wife turned up to eleven, as she so often was.

  He bent to inspect the brightly-colored, cartoon-emblazoned cereal box. “What happened to Count Chocula?”

  She smiled through a mouthful of cereal. “I love the Count’s vampy chocolatey goodness, but I was feeling like Captain Crunch this morning.”

  “You’re cheating on me with cereal? Somehow I think I should be offended. That pink milk scares me. It’s not right.”

  “And vampire cereal doesn’t freak you?”

  “You have me there.” He leaned against the counter, heels of his hands on the cool marble behind him. “Were you out running earlier?”

  “Uh, yeah? I told you I was heading out.”

  “I heard a gunshot.”

  “Farmer Schmidt again. I was in wolf form and strayed too close to the property line. Old dude’s got it in for me. Don’t worry, I can outrun him.”

  “Blu, don’t be so dismissive of a mortal with a gun. One of these days you won’t be able to outrun him, or you won’t see him. He’s a crafty old hunter. And your breed is no longer on the endangered species list in this state. If not Schmidt, then someone else. Damn it! I’ll kill that bastard.”

  “I love it when you’re so protective of me.”

  He bent to kiss her forehead, pausing to keep her warmth against his mouth, and inhaled the sweet cereal scent. “I would love you more if you took precautions when out running. You can scent out the property line. Don’t go near that man’s land.”

  “I try not to, but you know how I get carried away on a run. And I do recall something about a rabbit, but you know, I never remember if I actually made a kill. Which is a good thing.”

  “I’m going to talk to him.”

  “Just don’t kill him!” she called after his exit.

  “I won’t go that far, but I will put fear into the bastard’s irrational mortal heart.”

  * * *

  Creed marched toward the dilapidated red barn set at the back of Schmidt property. He’d spoken to the landowner on a handful of occasions, the last few times to rebuke him for shooting at the wolves in the area. The old man seemed to think a wolf would try to steal one of his cows, which were only six times the size of the local timber wolf.

  “Saint-Pierre.” The man spied him and, spitting his ever-present tobacco juice to the side, wandered over and shook his hand.

  Glad he’d never had the desire to don a pair of blue jean overalls, Creed asked him how the farm was doing, and received the usual pitiful reply. Times were tough for farmers, yet Creed could only relate when he thought back through the ages to medieval times when he’d been living off the land. In feudal France, he’d planted wheat until his lord had called upon him to become a knight and fight against the English in his stead. Things had gone south the night Creed had unknowingly slain a werewolf. But that was a long and different story.

  “What brings you over?” Schmidt asked.

  “I heard gunshots this morning. And wolf howls.”

  “Yep. Tracked the damned black wolf onto my property again. I got an eye out for that one. She’s a sneaky bitch.”

  “She won’t harm your cows,” Creed hissed.

  Schmidt spat to the side again. “She’ll go for their legs. Wound ‘em so I’d have to put ‘em down.”

  “She will not.”

  “You seem to know the mind of that wolf, Saint-Pierre.”

  “Wolves do not go after such large prey, and you know it.”

  “Just when I start believing such nonsense is when old Betsy will get taken down by the bloody she-wolf. The area is infested with them. And now they’re off the list, I’ve every right to protect what is my own.”

  The man’s idiocy infuriated Creed. He couldn’t verbally warn the man and hope he would obey him. If he saw Blu in wolf form again, Schmidt would shoot at her. That was not a risk Creed was willing to take.

  “Listen to me, old man.”

  Schmidt lifted his chin and crossed his arms. “Watch it, fella. I’ve no beef with you, but I don’t like the tone you’re using with me. You know the value of one of my heifers?”

  “Not nearly a fraction the value of that wolf, I’m sure.”

  “They’re bloody predators!”

  Incensed, Creed grabbed the man by the front of his overalls and lunged toward his neck. He knew this would not play well, but as he had the thought, he had to carry it through. Sinking his fangs into the carotid, hot blood spurted against the roof of his mouth. He began the persuasion.

  Leave the black wolf alone. No wolves will harm you or what is yours.

  Shoving the man away, he watched him slump against the stack of hay bales behind him. Bending, Creed licked the wound, which would allow it to heal quickly and keep his indiscretion a secret. Schmidt would come to with no memory of his bite and a newfound respect for the area wolves.

  * * *

  Creed strolled down the hallway and spied Blu shoving the violet damask Louis XV chair out of the bedroom. The thing was heavy, so he rushed to help her, but paused. She was strong, and liked to do things herself.

  “Getting ready?” he asked, amusement lightening his tone. “I guess that means we’re not taking it outside tonight?”

  “It’s started to rain. And much as I love sex in the rain, I had candlelight in mind for tonight.”

  “You think the candles will survive your werewolf?”

  She smirked. “Maybe one or two set far across the room. I need help with the picture on the wall. I’d hate to see that damaged.”

  “I can do that.” He followed her inside the bedroom and unhooked the original Mucha lithograph from the wall. Blu caught the end of it to help him carry it out.

  “You talk to Schmidt?” Her gray eyes sparkled curiously.

&n
bsp; “I did, and he won’t be bothering you anymore.”

  “You didn’t…?”

  “Blu, please.” While he’d never use persuasion on his wife—and couldn’t persuade her breed—he knew that she knew what he had done, and hoped she’d leave it at that.

  She shrugged, setting her pink wig bouncing. “That’s cool. Tonight’s going to be special. I can feel it,” she said.

  The moon was full, and he’d made a bargain with a faery. “Yes, I think it is.”

  * * *

  Blu spat out a fluffy white down feather that settled on her lip as she clung to the bedpost amidst a rain of hundreds more feathers. She’d shifted from werewolf to her human were shape and her muscles were slick with perspiration, her arms and legs luxuriously stretched. Her belly was tight and pulsed with the after-tugs of a lingering orgasm. Yet with an inhale, and a clench of her legs, she brought on another orgasm and cried out joyously as she slid down the post to land among the pools of feathers and hardened candle wax on the floor.

  Laughing with sheer bliss, she cast her eyes about the room, finding the smaller wardrobe had been tossed against the bathroom door, and the rug was shrugged up against a wall. Not so much damage as usual. Nothing was hanging from the crystal chandelier, nor was anything stuck in the wall, which got a frequent replastering and was covered over with a flocked damask wallpaper Blu kept on order all the time at the local hardware store.

  Somewhere within the chaos, her husband groaned and let out one of those happy sighs, followed by a deep growl in his throat that signaled he was pleased.

  Ah, there, sprawled at the end of the bed, his arm hanging down and his fingers tickling the air near her hair. A long scratch bled down his bicep. He started to chuckle and rolled over, his hair falling over the side of the mattress.

  “I love my werewolf princess,” he muttered, “wherever she is.”

  “Down here.” Blu pushed up to sit against the bed. Normally the top mattress was shoved onto the floor, but again, not so much damage as usual tonight. “You happy?”

  He lunged over the side of the bed and gripped her head, kissing her from his perch. He kissed her deep and kissed her hard, and ended with a drag of his fang across her lip.

  “Fuck yeah.”

  Chapter Four

  Three weeks later…

  Creed parked his BMW before the mansion and got out. A breeze wafted the scent of jasmine through the air. After a fire had destroyed the place a few years ago, he’d rebuilt on the land with virtually the same design. He liked the retro feel of the brick-and fieldstone-fronted house. It appealed to his love for old things.

  Hell, when a man walks through the centuries, everything eventually becomes old, including his mind. Blu infused him with youth and a carefree attitude he desperately needed. Children? That would put him over the top with new experience and wonder. Too much to hope for? Nothing was ever too much to dream.

  He leaned against the car door, checking his text messages before going inside. Once at home, he belonged to Blu, including his attention. He couldn’t tolerate her chattering on the phone when he was around, so he gave her the same respect.

  The Rescue Project had been slow lately, and that was a good thing. After stepping down as the Nava tribe leader, Creed had taken on heading the project, which rescued vampires who had been captured by werewolves and then used in vicious blood games. They hadn’t had a rescue call in months. Perhaps the wolf packs in the area were finally coming around?

  He doubted that. Much as he adored his werewolf wife, Creed still had issues with most wolves. A guy didn’t survive the torture of one thousand talons and turn around and embrace all wolves as friends. Wasn’t going to happen in his long lifetime.

  The front door slammed open and Blu burst through, running toward him in a streak of violet wig and barely-there dress. He opened his arms to receive his wife, and she jumped and body-slammed him. He stumbled, and they collided with the car behind him.

  “What is it? You’re not screaming, so you can’t be injured.”

  “Oh, Creed.” Legs wrapped about his hips, she clung to him and braced his face with her palms. Her heartbeats thundered against his. She didn’t say anything else, but that look—those bright gray eyes had never dazzled so brilliantly.

  Creed suddenly felt to his very bones the same joy emitted from his wife. “Really? You’re sure?”

  She nodded eagerly. “I just peed on a stick. I have an appointment this afternoon with a midwife. But Creed, I know it’s happened. I know!”

  “Oh, my love.”

  He spun her there in the yard, taking her joy into his heart. The two shouted, “Yes!” and somewhere above their home a glitter of faery dust glinted in the sun.

  Three months later…

  The cold gel gave Blu a shiver as the midwife moved the wand over the gentle rise of her belly. She was showing much more than she’d expected, but that made everything more exciting. Like it was real. This was happening. She and Creed were going to be parents.

  The midwife, Suzanne Walters, had explained werewolves gestated about seven months, so naturally as her baby grew rapidly, she would get bigger faster than a mortal pregnant woman.

  Creed, who sat beside her, held her hand and watched the screen. His attention was rapt, and Blu couldn’t help but stroke her fingers through his hair as she studied his profile. He was hers, this handsome man who had given her a child.

  A child. That she had promised to give away.

  Biting her lower lip, she closed her eyes and pushed away the horrible thought. She’d been desperately trying not to think about her promise to the faery since learning she was pregnant. How could she tell him? The more she worried about a confession, the harder it was to actually blurt out her horrible secret.

  “So,” Suzanne began, “you’re going into your fourth month. That means no more shifting.”

  “What?” Blu propped up on her elbows. “But the full moon is tomorrow night. I have to.” She searched Creed’s gaze and he offered a helpless shrug.

  “The werewolf doesn’t have to shift,” Suzanne, a werewolf herself, explained. Creed had insisted they hire the best and someone who knew Blu’s breed firsthand. “You are merely compelled by the full moon. You and the hubby will have to do something else to ensure you don’t shift,” she added with a knowing wink.

  Creed waggled a brow at Blu, then asked the midwife, “Is it because the baby doesn’t shift?”

  “Right. As the fetus gets larger, shifting would create problems with Blu’s bones changing and her muscles reforming during a shift.”

  “I get it,” Blu said. “Don’t worry. No more shifting for me. Creed will have to keep me real happy for the next few months.”

  “I can do that.” He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.

  The midwife started to detail the blurry black and white images on the screen. It was already possible to discern where the head and limbs were.

  A new life was really in there, Blu thought. They had done it!

  “Well,” the midwife said, and looked to Blu and Creed.

  “What?” Blu squeezed Creed’s hand. Please don’t let it be bad news.

  “Look here.” Suzanne pointed to a small, pulsing blob of white near the spine. “That’s the heartbeat.”

  “Amazing.” Creed leaned forward to study the screen. “I thought it was that other spot up on the right.”

  “You’re right, Mr
. Saint-Pierre.”

  “What?” Blu sat up to study the screen more closely. “Are you saying…?”

  The midwife nodded. “Two heartbeats, and they both look healthy and sound.”

  “Twins?” Creed nuzzled his face against her neck and hugged Blu. “You did good, princess.”

  “I think it was you who did good.”

  “You both have done very well,” Suzanne agreed.

  “Everything is going to be great now,” Blu said. Now she had two babies in her belly, she and Creed would not be left without a child. And while the thought of giving one away killed her, she couldn’t deal with that right now. “So good.”

  “Yes.” Creed offered a smile, and then looked aside. “One would have been enough to start our family. We’ve been blessed.”

  “Faery blessed,” Blu said.

  He smirked, but she sensed his joy was forced. It was a lot to take in. “Faery blessed.”

  “That explains a lot.” The midwife winked at Blu. She hadn’t mentioned how she’d gotten pregnant, but Suzanne did know Creed was vampire. “I’ll leave you two. Congratulations.”

  “Two,” Creed muttered after the door closed. He stood and walked to the window, his back to her.

  Two, she thought. But not really. A queasy wave overcame Blu and she swallowed the urge to let loose tears. She was strong. She could do this. She would have to do this.

  Two months later…

  He had to tell her. It wouldn’t be right to keep such a secret any longer. While Blu must have figured out he had asked a faery for a boon, she couldn’t possibly know what he had offered in return.

  And now Creed’s heart sat more heavily than it had those first few months as he’d watched his wife’s belly grow and had smoothed his palm over it, kissing her skin and knowing they had created what she was nurturing inside. Now they had two children.

  But not really.

  Savory scents drifted into the living room from the kitchen, distracting him from dire thoughts. Cooked meat. Blu had been taking her steaks ever rarer lately. Followed by peach ice cream for dessert. There was only one grocery store in the entire Twin Cities that sold peach with the big chunks of fruit, as Blu preferred it, and it was a forty-five-minute drive each way from the mansion.