New Moon

by Lisa Kessler

  When did my life become such a freak show?

  In the driver’s seat, I focused straight ahead. “Where are you staying?”

  “Enchantment.”

  I raised a brow but kept my eyes on the road. I should’ve expected he would stay at one of the ritziest resorts in all of Sedona. I’d never even been through the gates, let alone stepped inside.

  “You better button your coat. Last thing I need is the front desk to see you all bloody.”

  His gaze warmed the side of my face. I didn’t even need to look—I just knew. How was that even possible?

  His voice was thready but strong. “Are you going to tell me why you’ve gone from my executioner to my savior?”

  Fuck no. I was not going to tell him that my wolf had mistaken him for our mate. Yeah, not going to happen.

  “You said you knew my father, and before you passed out, you started to say something about my mother. I just want information.”

  In my peripheral vision, he fussed with his coat buttons with his one good arm. If I didn’t know what a deadly asshole he was, I might’ve thought it was cute.

  When he finished, his attention shifted to me again. “And once you have the details you need?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe I’ll kill you then.”

  He chuckled and winced. “No sense cleaning my wound if you’re going to end this dance anyway.”

  “I never claimed to always make sense.”

  His lips curved, hinting at a rare smile as he leaned back on the headrest. “Touché, wolf.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “You know my name, and I just saved your life. You’re not going to treat me like a lesser because a werewolf bit me.”

  “Saved my life?” He chuffed. “You nearly took it.” He turned to stare out the side window. “You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last, Isabelle.”

  At least he spit out my name. I’d put it in the win column.

  I handed Sebastian’s keys to the valet and went around the car to help him out. We were both dressed in black. Thankfully. Any other color and we’d both be trying to explain where all the blood came from.

  To his credit, Sebastian managed to walk into the lobby and over to the elevators with his arm around me like we were a couple. No one would have guessed I was carrying most of his weight. Good thing I was enhanced by the werewolf blood in my veins. I had always been in good shape, but Sebastian was taller and all muscle. He was heavier than me.

  Inside the elevator, he went to the corner, gripping both rails, and I stayed on the far side, distancing myself from him. Between his scent and the blood, my wolf was on edge, growling and whining deep in my soul. So bizarre. The human part of me was still gobsmacked by the strength of the wolf’s pull, her instincts to care for her mate.

  I wished I could make her see reality. This man was a heartless killer, not a candidate for true love.

  The doors opened, and Sebastian straightened to his full height. A muscle in his cheek tensed, the only outward sign of the pain he was in. He frowned, glancing each way before stepping out of the elevator. I started to open my mouth, but he shook his head, sliding his hand into his coat.

  Silently, he withdrew his gun.

  Oh shit. Asher’s scent lingered in the hallway. Asher was part of the Hopi tribe before Caldwell had him bitten. In spite of being changed into a werewolf against his will, and the constant threat of death, Asher never let Caldwell break his spirit.

  Since Caldwell’s death, this Sedona Pack had been limping along without an Alpha. Again, it was tough for me to wrap my brain around the wolf instincts. Even though we were all capable and independent, the wolves inside us ached for a leader, an Alpha to rise up and rally around.

  Without that leadership, we all struggled to stay together and safe. We were unorganized. There was a hole in the center of our circle. But Asher did his best to keep us together.

  When we rounded the corner, Asher’s trail was even stronger. Sebastian stopped outside his room and with his weakened arm fumbled for his room key.

  I whispered, conscious that if Asher was still inside, he would probably hear me. “I recognize the scent. It’s Asher from the Pack here in Sedona.”

  In the well-lit hallway, his pallor was alarming. How was he staying upright?

  Sebastian glanced my way. “Why is he in my room?”

  “I don’t know, but you can put the gun away. Asher doesn’t have a reason to kill you. No sense giving him one now.”

  He sighed, sliding the pistol into the holster at the small of his back. He waved the key card over the lock and opened the door. He kept his hand on the handle, gripping it tight. I needed to get his shoulder stitched up before he lost more blood.

  Asher stood, and Sebastian shook his head. “Sit.” He angled his body so I could get by and into the room. “She came of her own free will.”

  Asher’s gaze shifted to me. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Just wanted to get some information, so I came back with him.”

  Asher watched us both for a moment. “He’s bleeding. I smell it.”

  Sebastian kept his attention on Asher. “A scratch.”

  Bullshit. But I didn’t correct him. “Why are you here, Asher?”

  He crossed his arms. “Ryker told me you found Sebastian, but you didn’t come back into the bar.”

  Sebastian shook his head, slowly moving from the door to the bed. “This resort needs better security.”

  Asher came to stand beside me. “Before you complain to the manager, I work with the resort on private guided tours, and I might have told them you booked a hike with me for tomorrow.”

  I glanced over at Asher. “I can take it from here, but thanks for looking out for me.”

  “If we don’t protect each other, who will?”

  I nodded slowly. I wasn’t used to being a team player, but having guys like Asher on my side didn’t suck.

  He went to the door and turned back. “If you hurt her, you will answer to more than just me.”

  Sebastian chuckled and winced. “Always posturing with you wolves. If I decided to hurt her, you would never find me to exact your revenge.”

  If I could’ve reached Sebastian, I would’ve smacked him. “You’re about to pass out from blood loss, so enough of the pissing contest.” I turned to Asher. “I’ll check in with you later.”

  Once Asher was gone, I turned around to face the only man who might have answers about my father. “I need to get your shoulder taken care of, and then I want answers. Deal?”

  “It’s not serious. I can suture it myself.” Sebastian’s black hair veiled his face, his head drooping.

  My stomach tied into a tight knot as I struggled against the instinct to go to him. “Like hell you can.” I grabbed the first-aid kit and knelt in front of him. “Can you even take your coat off?”

  He reached to unfasten a button and slumped forward. I caught his shoulders and laid him back on the bed. It’d be easier to fix him up this way anyway. Once I had the coat open, it was easy to part the torn shirt. His wound was still oozing, but thankfully the blood flow had slowed considerably.

  I threaded the needle and grabbed more sterile pads. Stitches were not my forte. He’d have a scar, but he’d be alive. As I lifted the needle, my breath caught.

  He’d never notice the scar.

  His chest and abdomen were covered in them. Bullet holes, burns, and cuts marked his torso, constant reminders of a violent life. I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. By my second stitch, he groaned, his large hand covering mine.

  “Isabelle.”

  My mouth went dry. His touch had my entire body on full alert. And why did my name have to sound so sensual when he said it? He was barely conscious.

  I pulled in a shaky breath. “I’m almost finished.”

  His hand dropped back onto the bed, and for a second I wasn’t sure if he passed out again or was just giving me space to work. I tugged the stitches tight at the end an
d a muscle jumped in his cheek.

  So he wasn’t unconscious—he just had a high tolerance for pain.

  I tied it off and set the needle aside, then did my best to clean off the blood from his chest. I straightened up, collecting the bloody gauze pads. “Done.”

  His dark lashes fluttered open, and I braced myself for his flippant response.

  “Thank you.”

  Okay, sincerity was not what I had come to expect from this man.

  I shook it off. “It’s easier for me to get information if you’re alive.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched as he sat up. Jesus, abs like that should be illegal.

  He caught his breath and shook his head. “Either way, I’m grateful.” He glanced my way, his dark eyes full of secrets. “And for me, that doesn’t happen very often.”

  I raised a brow. “You’re usually an ungrateful bastard?”

  “No.” He chuckled, sucking in a pained breath before lifting his gaze to meet mine. “I rarely have anything to be thankful for.”

  Chapter Three

  Sebastian

  I grimaced as the morning sun burned my eyes through the slit in the blackout drapes. I sat up, reorienting myself to my surroundings. My shoulder ached, but the stitches held. As a jaguar shifter, I healed much faster than humans, but the pain still lingered.

  Across from me, Isabelle was curled up on one side on the couch. For a moment, I thought I had dreamed her.

  The ache in my shoulder proved she was very real.

  And she was still here. I pulled my hair back from my forehead. Last night I’d been suffering from blood loss. My thought process had obviously been affected. I never should have allowed her to stay.

  It wasn’t that she could have killed me. If she hadn’t cut my throat already, I saw no reason for her to do so now. Not until she had what she wanted.

  I should’ve sent her away, because she was a temptation I didn’t need right now. Not only was she the beautiful daughter of my mentor, but she was intelligent, too. My weakness where women were concerned. I’d witnessed her fierceness, but also her compassion.

  If life had taught me anything so far, it was that caring for others gave my enemies leverage.

  After my father ordered Grace’s murder, I shuttered my black heart. No more.

  Isabelle’s father had given me a letter before he ended his life. He pressed it into my hand and stepped back. His final words: “Be good to my girl, Bastian.”

  My chest ached with the memory. No one had ever called me by that name before or since.

  I stood up, sucking in a breath to keep from groaning and waking her. She looked peaceful, nothing like the predator I faced last night. I admired that.

  In my business, I witnessed many souls lost to the hunger for the kill. They were always the first to die. Her father had warned me to beware of the power rush. We killed when we had to, never for sport or thrill.

  I followed orders, pure and simple. It was a faint distinction, but in my heart, where the spirit of my mother still haunted me, it kept me from being a murderer. There was no pleasure in my work and no yearning for more.

  I crossed to the table and retrieved my cell phone. Vance had already texted me.

  Meeting this morning?

  I glanced over at my sleeping guest and sighed before firing off a reply.

  Change in plan. What can you tell me about Isabelle Wood?

  It took a few minutes, but the text finally appeared.

  She’s the brains behind this Pack right now. She figured out how to funnel Caldwell’s assets back to the wolves here, but I think she’s also been digging into Nero. I tried to warn her off, but she’s stubborn. I don’t know what she’s looking for.

  Answers. The one thing that could get her killed.

  I’d kept my word to Sol and helped my father focus elsewhere. Solomon Wood’s daughters were not born shifters. The breeding experiment with my father’s top jaguar-shifter assassin and the clairvoyant unbitten female had been a failure.

  Instead of being marked for death as loose ends, I crossed them off Nero’s list of assets, and Isabelle and her sister were eventually forgotten.

  If she wanted to live, she needed to stop digging.

  I set my phone down and went to the closet.

  “Going somewhere?”

  I bit back a smile at the sound of her voice as I turned. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  She already had my gun aimed at my chest. I hadn’t even heard her move. Not bad for a wolf.

  “I’m sure you didn’t.” Her aim didn’t falter. “It’d be much easier to kill me in my sleep. Just another day at the office for you.”

  “Wolves.” I cracked my neck, forcing myself to let her dig go by. “If I had planned to kill you in your sleep, you wouldn’t have my gun in your hand right now.”

  I faced the row of hangers, giving her a clear shot at my back. Dangerous way to test my theory, but until she had the information she wanted on her father, I was certain she wouldn’t pull that trigger.

  When the shot didn’t come, I grabbed a clean white tank and tugged it on, grinding my teeth through the pain. Without turning, I asked, “Why are you still here helping this Pack? Your sister found her mate and moved to Reno to join the Pack there, correct?”

  I turned around in time to catch a flash of emotion on her face, but I couldn’t place it.

  “I want to find out why my father was killed and why he was working for Nero.” She lowered the gun but didn’t set it aside. “I also thought if I stayed long enough, you’d come sniffing around again. I figured I was the best chance this Pack had to kill you and cut ties with Nero.”

  “Killing me would only bring Nero to your doorstep.” I tugged a pressed shirt free from the hanger, fighting to keep from wincing as I pulled it over my shoulders. “Your father wouldn’t have wanted you digging around Nero, which is probably why he never told you about his employer. You should go and leave well enough alone.”

  Her gaze moved up from my feet to my head. “You seriously think I’m going to let you walk out of this room without telling me what I need to know?”

  The fire in her eyes lured me in closer. Dangerous temptation. I shook my head, resisting the urge touch her, to give her everything she wanted. “I’m saving your life by denying your wishes.”

  She laughed, shaking her head as she pulled back the slide on my Glock. “I don’t think so.”

  I crossed to the dresser and removed a pair of socks, unfazed by the gun. The fear of death didn’t have much hold when you had nothing worth living for. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I struggled to get my foot into the sock.

  “Unbelievable.” She stood up, gun at her side. “What kind of assassin lets someone get his weapon and then makes no move to get it back?”

  I glanced her way, shocked to find a smile creeping up on me. “The kind who knows he’s useless to you dead.”

  “I could shoot you in the foot.”

  “Please do. At least then I wouldn’t have to endure this sock humiliation any longer.”

  A grin curved her full lips. “Oh, now you’ve done it.” She set the gun on the table. “I can’t shoot you now.”

  She came to my side. “Give me the damn sock. You’re going to tear out my beautiful stitches if you keep that up.”

  Her scent was intoxicating, like cinnamon and roses. I’d be able to find her anywhere.

  But I wouldn’t. Death followed me everywhere I went, and this woman was so full of life and fight. Sol would’ve been very proud of her.

  She balled up my sock and started to slide it up my foot. My tender foot. I jerked back without meaning to. The sock went flying.

  Her eyes narrowed. “What the hell? Why am I even trying to help you?”

  An uncharacteristic laugh escaped my throat. “I should put them on myself.”

  “Oh my God.” Realization sparked in her eyes. “The mighty Sebastian Severino is ticklish.”

  “Only my feet.” I reac
hed for the sock and raised a brow. “I may have to kill you now.”

  She mimicked my voice. Poorly. “If you wanted me dead, I wouldn’t be breathing.”

  “Touché.” I shook my head. What was happening here?

  I’d never met anyone like her. She knew what I was and who I worked for, but she wasn’t intimidated. And somehow she made me forget.

  Dangerous. I groaned, but I got the damned socks on.

  Isabelle sat at the table, close to my gun but not touching it. “You never answered me about where you were going.”

  That’s when I realized how I could lose her. “I’m meeting Vance. I believe you’ve met him?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Is he going to be your muscle to force this Pack to go fight in Reno?”

  I rolled my good shoulder back. “I don’t need any ‘muscle.’”

  “I’m not going to let you out of this room.”

  I stepped into the bathroom and ran a comb through my hair. “That’s why I’m taking you with me.” I held up a hotel toothbrush wrapped in cellophane. “Better clean up. We leave in ten minutes.”

  Vance stood as we approached the table at the back of the coffee shop. He gave no outward sign that he was surprised to see Isabelle. His easygoing nature made him an extremely deadly asset for Nero. He was often sent in on undercover jobs. Befriend the enemy, gain intel, and leave no survivors.

  He was also the only man on earth I’d call a friend.

  He held his hand out to Isabelle. “Good to see you.” She shook his hand, and he glanced my way. “You should’ve mentioned you were bringing a beautiful woman. I would’ve combed my hair.”

  “I wouldn’t have recognized you.” Vance wore mussed hair like it was a hairstyle. It suited him, and he knew it.

  I pulled out a chair for Isabelle, but instead of sitting, she stared at it and then me. “What’s with the gentleman act? I know who you are already. No need to get flashy.”

  It shouldn’t have bothered me. But it did. “You know what I am, not who I am. There is a difference.” I took my seat and focused on Vance. “My father expects this Pack to be in Reno by the week’s end. If we aren’t going to make that happen, then we need a plan.”

  Isabelle dropped her napkin in her lap. “Since when do you defy your father? I thought you’re his right-hand guard dog.”