Half Moon Rising

by Sandrine Gasq-Dion

  Sam’s mother, Nadine, knew he was gay. He’d confided in her a while back. She’d told him to follow his heart, no matter if it was man or woman, or white. God, he missed her. Nadine had been his adoptive mother ever since his parents had died. The memories of that day came flooding back. He was ten when it’d happened. He and his parents had stopped in a convenience store on their way home to the reservation. Troy had wanted a chocolate bar and his father needed gas anyway. Raymond Bishop was six foot three and towered over his wife, Celia Bishop. Both of them were loving and nurturing; his mom with her aquamarine eyes and his father with his refined looks and bright hazel eyes. Troy was told he was a perfect mixture of the two.

  He’d been in the back of the store looking at comics when the bell above the door chimed. Gunshots followed and Troy ran down the aisle, looking for his mother. More gunshots. Glass broke and he’d crouched low, peeking around the corner of the aisle. His mother was on the floor, a pool of blood surrounding her body. His father‘s body was by the front door. He’d surprised the gunman and gotten a bullet to the heart.

  Troy shook his head, pushing the memory back. He went inside and poured himself another cup of coffee and checked around the small apartment. New furniture had been delivered the day before and had been placed strategically by his interior designer. It would be going up on the market the following week. Troy looked out the window and smiled, it was time to move from New York and go home to the reservation. Between his schedule and Sam’s, the trip out had been pushed back and now it’d been almost a year since they’d seen each other.

  His cell phone rang, bringing him out of his daze. He looked at the caller ID and frowned. Why was James Pruitt calling? He’d just come off an assassin gig and told the man he needed a vacation. Troy flipped his cell phone open. “I’m on vacation, James. You do know what that means, right?”

  James laughed out loud. “I know, I know, I need a recommendation though. Since all my best guys are settling down, I need another guy to send out in your stead. Any ideas for me?”

  Troy wrinkled his brow; half the guys he was deployed with were suitable and trust worthy, so to pick one? Troy looked at the picture on the wall of him, Sam, Mateo and Josh with the General. These were his guys, his blood brothers in arms. He’d made quite a few friends in the FBI and CIA as well. Some of them had been in the military before and understood the need to be a team. “Try Devin, he’s one hell of a shot.”

  “Lyons?”

  “Seriously? Yes, he’s the top marksman.” Troy laughed. “Do you not even know the guys that work with us?”

  “I’m a busy man, Troy.” James sighed in frustration.

  “Jesus, get laid will ya?” Troy snorted.

  “You sound like Josh.”

  “Ouch.” Troy laughed.

  “Bye Troy.” James snickered.

  ~~

  Half an hour later, he was in a cab to JFK. Another hour passed and he was standing in line for security. He got a lot of looks from the TSA guys, but thank God two already knew him well. Brice Palmer and Reggie Mayer were the two he dealt with the most. He was a frequent flyer, thanks to his job. They all laughed as the new guy took the wand and ran it over his chest.

  “You want to do a cavity search?” Troy waggled his eyebrows.

  “Damn Bishop, stop scaring the new guy.” Brice laughed.

  Troy smiled and put his hand out to Brice. The guy was short as hell, but sweet as could be. Never gave Troy a second glance, not even the first time he saw him. Which considering his height and the way he looked, was rare. “How’s the wife and kids, Brice?”

  “Bitch, bitch, nag, nag, whine, whine.” Brice smiled.

  “That good, eh?” Troy laughed loudly and smiled, picking up his suitcase. “Try bringing her some flowers for no reason, then see what you get.” Troy waved at the rest of the TSA guys and made his way to his gate. He had a long flight ahead of him and planned to sleep through it.

  ~~

  The flight to Seattle was five hours. Troy sat through a shitty movie and an extremely chatty seat partner. A blonde, big chested, dumb-as-hell seat partner. More than once, he’d looked at her as if she had a dick growing out of her forehead. Still, she pressed on with her stupid questions.

  “So, are you Mexican?” She asked.

  Troy sighed and almost rolled his eyes, he’d never gotten that question. He wondered if it was because of his many tribal tattoos and the fact that he actually looked Native American. “No, I’m Native American.”

  “So… Spanish?”

  Troy sighed and gave her the best smile he could manage, excusing himself to the bathroom. He wondered how long he could sit in there before people started wondering why the huge Mexican-Spanish guy was still in the bathroom. When he came back out, the pilot told them to put their seat belts on as they were landing at Sea-Tac. Troy had never been so damn happy to see that his chatty seat partner was asleep. He sat back and closed his eyes and felt a tap on his shoulder. A dark haired flight attendant was smiling at him.

  “I put a sleeping pill in her coke.” She said.

  Troy smiled wide, taking her hand and kissing the top of the soft skin. “Thank you so much.” Troy looked at her name tag. “Sabine.”

  “Anytime, Cheri.”

  ~~

  Upon landing, Troy made his way to the busy baggage claim and waited for his luggage on the conveyor belt. Once he retrieved his bag, he made his way towards the front of the airport to hail a taxi. Walking through the airport, he felt his stomach growling. A bag of pretzels was not going to be enough to sustain him for the drive ahead. He was going to have stop somewhere along the way for something more…filling. He hailed a cab and sat back, looking at Seattle fly by. Jesus, but it’d gotten crowded. The freeways were clogged, but the town hadn’t lost its lure.

  He’d been here many times before with Sam, just to hang out at the bars and play pool. Once they started pulling into Tacoma, Troy asked to be dropped off at the nearest Ford dealership. He walked down the aisle of trucks, looking at the features on each and eyeing space and miles per gallon. Not that he cared; he was a truck guy through and through. He’d sold his other truck a week before, deciding to move. He wasn’t about to haul a vehicle from New York to Washington State.

  It took about a half hour before anyone came out to help him. Most of the time it was his size that intimidated people, but the car salesman in his too- expensive-to-be-working-on-a-car-lot-suit and the way he looked at him with disgust, was one of the other types of guys. The kind that thought Troy couldn’t afford shit on the lot.

  “Well, so happy someone came out to help me.” Troy looked the salesman over.

  “What can I help you with?” The salesman asked.

  “Well, a truck for starters.” Troy leaned over, flicking the man’s name tag. “Eli. In fact, this truck in particular.” Troy ran his hand over the black F-250 diesel truck with an extended cab.

  “Well, we can go inside; I’ll run a credit check and see what we can get you into.”

  Troy smiled and pulled his wallet out. “No need, I’ll be paying for it in cash. Make sure it has a full tank of gas, I’m leaving right after were done.”

  ~Chapter Two~

  Sawyer sat on top of the house he’d been building for most of the day. He had a beautiful view of Grenville Bay. The snow was starting to come down faster and it was time to go home. He closed his eyes and felt the wind in his hair, the smell of the salty ocean tickling his nostrils. He loved it here. Well, he loved the beach. The sights and sounds were almost a lullaby. When he’d first started out in college, drawing house designs was a hobby. One of his professors saw the drawing in class one day and asked about it. It exploded from there. Word of mouth spread and Sawyer was drawing up house plans for all kinds of people. He was making good money at it and was now building them as well.

  It was here, that he sat and pondered about his life and where it was going. He was twenty four with no mate, and he wasn’t waiting with patience
. Sawyer sighed and lay back on his elbows. All he wanted was a family of his own, and he wanted it before he turned thirty. Right now, his family consisted of three younger brothers and a widowed father. Almost eight years had passed since his mother died giving birth to his youngest brother, Wyatt.

  It had been a shock to all of them, but they’d pulled together through the grief, with the help of Nadine and Joe. His father took time off work in the beginning to assure his boys they didn’t have to worry about him, and over time John Quinton’s heart healed. His father never dated. The one woman that captured his heart, had taken it with her when she died. Sawyer wanted a love like that, the end all, be all love. He wanted kids too. At least two of them. When he’d come out to his father at seventeen, Sawyer had been scared to death of what would happen. His father had smiled and took him by his shoulders, telling him, “That’s what surrogates are for,” and then hugged him.

  Sawyer smiled, thinking about ‘the talk’. It just so happened his brothers were gay as well. Well, Xander and Grayson were and Sawyer had no doubt that Wyatt would be too. What were the odds? The wind shifted and Sawyer smiled at the scent of a werewolf. He tipped his head back and saw Nicholas Stevens making his way over to him. If Sawyer hadn’t been waiting for his mate, he’d take Nick in a heartbeat.

  Nick was six foot two, he was a muscular man with black hair and silvery eyes. Nick was part of the Northern pack of Vancouver and they’d met during a meeting of the packs. They’d become good friends from the first moment they’d met. Nick needed a change of scenery, and Sawyer needed a friend his own age. It helped that Nick knew about house building.

  “Nick,” Sawyer smiled broadly. “What brings you to the roof?”

  “A certain hottie Native American.” Nick waggled his eye brows.

  “I thought you liked white meat?” Sawyer arched a brow.

  “Hey! I like dark meat too.” Nick looked up at the sky. “It’s going to start coming down harder. You better get your butt back to the reservation.” Nick put his hand out to help Sawyer up. Just once, he’d love to get that feeling, that twitch in his gut and crotch that told him he’d found his mate.

  “I can almost hear what you’re thinking.” Sawyer smiled. “I think that way sometimes too. I wish it was you at times, Nick.”

  Nick pulled Sawyer into his arms and looked into his eyes. “I’d be honored, you know. You are one gorgeous man, Sawyer; you’re sweet and funny—”

  “And a virgin.” Sawyer sighed deeply. “How about we make a deal? If I haven’t found my mate by age fifty and you haven’t either, we hook up.”

  “Can’t we pretend we’re fifty and just hook up?” Nick smiled wickedly.

  Sawyer wanted that feeling; God knew he would love for Nick to be his mate. It just wasn’t there. He was very attracted to Nick, would love to kiss him and make love to him, but Nick wasn’t his mate, and he never would be. Sawyer sighed in frustration. “I’m going to have carpal tunnel in my right hand.”

  “Great.” Nick sighed. “Now I have a visual of you jacking off.”

  “And that’s a bad thing how? Okay, let’s get out of here.” Sawyer laughed, pulling Nick with him.

  ~~

  Driving down the freeway with a bag of burgers, Troy hummed happily. It’d been fun to watch Eli’s face when he paid cash for the truck. Little fucker had an attitude and deserved to be put in his place. Washington was always beautiful and more than once, Troy had been surprised by snow in the month of April. He was surprised again. It started out light, then came down in larger flakes. Troy only had a little over an hour left to go as he started driving through the more dense areas of the Olympic Peninsula. Trees lined both sides of the two lane highway and Troy started to feel like he was home again.

  Things had changed a lot since he’d left for the Army. More and more towns were sprouting up along the way and trees were being cut down, replaced by new seedlings. At least they had the sense to plant new ones. He’d missed the Reservation. It was its own family and he’d always felt like he belonged there. It was time to come home. He made the turn and followed the road all the way down. As always, it was completely unspoiled. He could see Archer standing at the Quinton’s house, waving at him. Troy stepped out of the truck and took a deep breath of reservation air. God, this was where he belonged.

  “Troy!” Nadine came running out of the house, wiping her hands on her apron.

  Troy smiled and put his arms out. Nadine flew into them and Troy hugged her hard. Her small frame was almost comical, engulfed in his giant one. She pulled away, looking in his eyes and Troy still saw the same woman that gave him milk and cookies after school. Nadine was the one that tucked him in at night and held his hand, the one that stood with him and held him as they lowered his parents into the ground. “You look beautiful as always, Nadine.”

  “Oh hush!” Nadine smiled, looking Troy over. “Look at you, all skin and bone! Don’t you have someone yet that knows how to cook?”

  “No one cooks like you, Ma.” Troy picked her up and hugged her tight. “I missed you guys.”

  Nadine smiled and took his hand, walking over to her husband and John with Archer; she smiled and looked at Joe. “Look how skinny he’s gotten.”

  “Oh yes, I can see he’s about to fall over from malnutrition, Nay.” Joe rolled his eyes.

  Troy turned around to see what looked like Xander chasing a kid across the front yard.

  “Wyatt! Come back here!” Xander shouted.

  The little boy ran to him and looked up. Troy figured he was John’s youngest boy. Troy crouched down in front of him and put his hand out. “Hey Wyatt.”

  “You are Troy.” Wyatt grinned, revealing two missing front teeth.

  “I am.” Troy shook his hand; he looked up to see Sam making his way over, holding hands with a dark haired man. He picked Wyatt up and slung him onto his hip, watching as Sam made his way over, looking sheepish. “Well, nice to see you too, Sam.”

  “Hey, bud.” Sam hugged Troy hard. It had taken a while for him to get his lupine side under control. Dakota had been helping him, and it had been a riot. “How was the flight and the drive?”

  “Well, seeing as I got a new truck, it was perfect.” Troy nodded to his new truck. ”Check her out.” His eyes fell on Sam’s fiancé and he put his hand out. “You must be the fiancé, Dakota. I’m Troy Bishop. It’s nice to meet the man that finally stole Sam’s heart. Congrats on your engagement.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too, I’ve heard a lot about you.” The man was even better looking in person. Tall like his mate, he had the most beautiful hazel eyes.

  “Well, I hope to hear more about you.” Troy smiled and his eyes fell on Xander staring at him. “What’s up your ass?” Troy realized Xander wasn’t staring at him, he was staring behind him. Troy turned and caught sight of the biggest fucking black wolf he’d ever seen, making its way over. He pulled his gun out from the waist band of his jeans. “Jesus Christ!”

  Wyatt giggled in his arms and he put his hands out. “Wanna play!”

  “Are you nuts, kid?” Troy held Wyatt up as high as he could, all while he kept an eye on the black wolf.

  Sam smiled and took Troy’s hand. “Don’t worry, that’s—” Fuck, he couldn’t say that. That would sound just great. ‘Hey Troy, meet Sawyer. By the way, he’s a werewolf.’ Sam rolled his eyes. “That’s Little Shit.” Sam almost lost it when Sawyer tilted his head, giving him the ‘look’. The look that said Sam was going to hear it later.

  Troy finally put Wyatt down. The squirmy little bugger ran to the wolf, throwing his arms around his neck.

  “Little Shit, Little Shit!” Wyatt giggled.

  Xander finally snapped out of his daze and went and grabbed Wyatt, who was now hanging from Sawyer’s neck and biting his ears.

  “Wyatt, come on.” Xander mussed his brother’s hair.

  “So, ya’ll just keep wolves as pets now, huh?” Troy looked at all the adults just sitting around drinking a beer as a fucking wo
lf sat in their front yard.

  “Yup, um Little Shit, this is Troy Bishop, old friend of mine. Why don’t you say hi to him?” Sam chuckled and Dakota smacked his arm.

  “He really is harmless, Troy.” John sat back and watched the exchange, silently laughing at the look on not only Troy’s face, but Sawyer’s as well.