Hunter's Moon

by Rose Marie Wolf

  Rose could only nod at her. She turned her attention to right where two teenage boys and a teenage girl stood. They were all weres. She could smell it.

  “Jason, you didn’t tell me your mate was Rose Sullivan.” The teenage girl stared at Rose in awe, and Rose was uncomfortable with the attention. “I’ve read your books—”

  “Not now, Aurora. Later. Rose has been through a lot,” Jason said.

  “Take her to the bedroom,” Glen said. “She can rest there.”

  “And maybe take a shower,” Rose said in a small voice. Water dripped from her clothes to the floor, leaving a water trail as Jason led her away from them all. Davis helped Claire to the couch.

  “Who’s this?” Slater asked. He stared at her with scrutiny. “She’s human.”

  “She helped me escape.” Rose turned from the doorway. “She’s all right.”

  Slater stared at Rose and opened his mouth to say something in protest. Davis interrupted him.

  “Claire’s fine. She’s on our side. We can trust her.” The tone in his voice suggested no more disagreement. Slater snorted and crossed his arms. He sat in a seat near Glen and glared. No one else said anything for a while. Everyone was brooding as if trying to decide on something. Rose and Jason waited in the doorway.

  “I’m sure we are all just as tired as Rose is. Why don’t we all get some sleep?” It was Glen that broke the silence.

  “Where? There’s only the couch and your cot for us to sleep on, and the floor is none to comfortable,” Cheyenne pointed out. The couch was being used by Claire, who had her leg stretched out and elevated on a cushion. Glen’s brow furrowed.

  “You’re right.”

  “No problem though,” Cheyenne continued. “I can make a quick run to some place open this early. I can get us some sleeping bags, food, and whatever else we need. I think Rose would appreciate some clean clothes.” She pointed a thumb in her direction.

  “Yeah.” Rose leaned against Jason. “I would like that very much.”

  “And I’m hungry.” Rebel spoke up the first time since Rose arrived. He glanced at his sister who was nodding vigorously. “We both are.”

  A murmur of agreement went through the room and Glen nodded. “That’s settled. All right. Cheyenne will get some supplies.”

  “I’ll go with her,” Aurora spoke up, stepping away from her brother. No one protested and Cheyenne smiled at her.

  “Sure thing, hon. It’s always good to have an extra set of hands.”

  “I want to help.” Claire sat up a bit, and reached for her pocket. She pulled out a wallet and opened it. She produced several bills of twenties and fifties. She held the wad of bills out for Cheyenne to take. She took it, lifting an eyebrow slightly as she thumbed through the bills.

  “Get your coat,” she said. Aurora moved quickly to do so.

  “I want to help,” Claire repeated as Cheyenne as reached for her coat draped over the back of the couch. “I want to do some good. I’m tired of all the bad. If I can, I want to help correct some of the wrongs Simon has done.”

  “I know, hon. I’ll put it to good use. Don’t worry about that. It’s a pretty good amount. You rich?”

  Claire hesitated then let out a breath. “My parents were. It’s what they left me. It’s only gotten me into trouble. I just want to help.”

  Cheyenne nodded that she understood and turned her attention to Rose in the doorway.

  “Sizes?”

  Rose sighed tiredly. She could barely keep her eyes open. “I wear a size twelve.”

  “Shoes.”

  “Eight. I’m not picky about what you get. Anything will do.” She gave a weak smile. “Thanks.” She supported her weight against Jason, who pulled her close to him and held her upright.

  “Not a problem. I’m glad to do it.” Cheyenne smiled and slipped on her jacket. “Let’s go, ‘Rora.” They left, Aurora closing the door behind them. A moment later, Cheyenne’s truck started and they pulled out of the lot.

  “I’m tired, love.” Rose said, turning to face him. She smiled weakly again. “I want to get a shower, and some sleep.”

  Jason only nodded and led her into the bedroom.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe they are all dead.” Rose’s words were barely intelligible amid her sobs. “The whole PRDI. Gavin, Mary, Anna…” She let out a great sob and buried her face in Jason’s chest. She sat in his comforting arms. He could find very little words to soothe her, but he tried.

  “It’s all right now, love,” he whispered into her hair. “You’re safe.”

  “It’s all my fault,” she said, muffled against his chest. She pulled back. Her face and eyes were wet and red. He rubbed her shoulders gently. “They wanted me. Simon wanted me, and everyone else was killed because of me. It’s my fault.”

  “Stop it, Rose. It’s over now.” He stroked her hair and back. Her tears slipped down her face, and he stopped the tears with a wipe of his thumb. “No more crying.”

  She sniffled a little and pulled back from him to wipe her nose and face. “I can’t help it, Jason. I feel… I mean, if it hadn’t been for me…”

  “It’s not your fault.” He was adamant. “Simon would’ve done the same thing to anyone else. It’s not because of you.”

  Rose shook her head. “No, love, you don’t understand. He wanted me…wanted to use me…” She held her hands up helplessly and stared at him. Fresh tears started and quickly he drew her near. She collapsed into his arms in fresh sobs.

  “I know, Rose…I know…”

  But he didn’t know. He hadn’t known that was Simon’s true purpose, but somehow it made sense. He clenched his hands into a tight fist, not wanting to hurt Rose in his embrace. Simon was going to pay for everything he had done to Rose, for everything he had done to those close to her. He was going to pay for leaving Jason to die, when he should’ve finished the job.

  He’s a centuries old vampire who doesn’t do domestication. She’s a single mother struggling to survive. Evil brings them together, but will their love be enough to keep them alive?

  Night Song

  © 2007 Sharon Cullen

  He doesn’t have time for a fling, doesn’t know anything about kids, and certainly doesn’t do domestication.

  Aiden Reed is a member of the elite Rogue Hunters, a band of vampires who hunt down and eliminate those of their kind who cross the line and kill indiscriminately. It’s his job to keep the innocents safe and he’s proud of what he does. Yet once he sees his sexy next door neighbor, he can’t keep his mind, or his hands, off her.

  She’s been overworked, overstressed and overwhelmed since her husband left her for another woman.

  It’s all Amy Carmichael can do to make her mortgage payments and put food on the table for her three children. She definitely doesn’t want another relationship, not when her last one was such a miserable mistake. So why do her thoughts keep straying to her new neighbor whose voice reminds her of melted butter rolling over hot pancakes?

  They’re definitely not suited, but that doesn’t stop them from wanting each other. And when Aiden’s dangerous life spills over into Amy’s, threatening her son, Aiden will do anything to keep the family he didn’t want, but now loves, safe.

  Warning: Explicit sex and some violence.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Night Song:

  Aiden hadn’t lied. He had been walking in the woods. What he didn’t tell her was that he timed his walk to coincide with her nightly ritual of sitting on the deck with her glass of wine. She’d been late tonight and he’d almost given up, but his patience had been rewarded when the sliding door opened and she stepped through.

  He’d been more than stunned to see the shimmer of tears on her cheeks and could no more have stayed away than deny his insatiable hunger for blood. He had to know what was wrong, what made her sad.

  But she was reluctant to talk and her mortification was apparent, so he let it go for the time being. That thought alone should have been enough to
send him running for the hills. She was human and she was a mother on top of it. A bad combination in his book. But this woman was different and that both drew him to her and made him step back.

  It was insane to get to know her.

  Yet he couldn’t stay away even if he wanted—and at the moment he didn’t want.

  She left the deck to get his wine. He followed and stood just outside the sliding glass door, surveying her kitchen. It was everything his home was not. Lydia’s drawings covered the front of the refrigerator held there with big, colorful magnets. An overlarge calendar was taped up, each day marked with different colored pens. Papers had been pushed off to the side of the kitchen table. Cooling loaves of bread littered the small space. Aiden took a deep breath and held it. Lemon bread, if he wasn’t mistaken.

  He rarely ate food, and only then to appease the human he was with, but the scents coming from Amy’s kitchen made his stomach grumble. His gaze went to her as she bustled around the cluttered kitchen. Just like the other night, he wanted to step inside and just be with her. But, as a vampire, he wasn’t allowed inside unless invited.

  Amy shot him a warm look over her shoulder as she pulled more loaves from the oven. “Come in,” she said with a smile. “Sorry about the mess.”

  He stepped inside, savoring the smell of warm lemon bread, entranced at the sight of her rear end bent over the open oven door. His breath caught in his lungs and he stepped even closer. She closed the door and opened the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of wine.

  “It’s so hard to keep the kitchen clean,” she said. “Seems every time I straighten it up, it’s a mess again.”

  She chuckled and turned around, then gasped when she knocked into him. Wine splashed out of the glass and splattered her hand.

  “Oh.” Her face turned red. “Sorry.”

  He took the glass in one hand and her fingers in his other. Lifting her hand to his lips, he kept his gaze trained on her wide, amber eyes. Slowly he sucked the sweet liquid from her fingers and palm, running his tongue along her palm. He closed his eyes, biting back a groan at the salty-sweet taste of her skin. He skimmed his fangs across her palm and she inhaled. His gaze flew to hers where a desire mixed with trepidation and a longing that nearly matched his shone back.

  Quickly, before he lost control, he let go of her hand. She held it to her body, cradling it close to her breast. Aiden licked his lips, wanting more. Wanting it all. He took a step back and sipped his wine, studying the rise and fall of her breasts, hearing the small little pants that escaped from between her lips. He could smell the heat rising from her body, the woman scent that had him rock hard.

  Not tonight. If he were smart, not ever. But sometimes his intelligence took a back seat to other, baser instincts, and he had no doubt this would be one of those times.

  She wanted him. He could see it in her eyes and in the way she leaned toward him. But she also didn’t want him. That was in her eyes as well, evidenced by the confusion. He placed his glass on the kitchen table and took a step in her direction. She held her ground but her eyes grew wider and the pulse in her carotid picked up speed. Keeping his mouth shut, he licked his incisors, nearly tasting her warm, sweet blood. Would it taste like she smelled? Vanilla and flowers? God, he wanted to know.

  He reached her in another step and stood so close her warm breath heated him through his shirt. With slow movements, he lifted his hand and caressed her neck. There. Right there he could kiss her, feel her pulse, know that her blood flowed through her. His mouth watered. She licked her lips and he groaned, bending his head and taking her mouth with his, licking the line where her upper lip clamped over her lower, asking for entry.

  She opened and he dove in, tasting her, testing her. He was a master at kissing while hiding his elongated and very sharp fangs. His hands cupped the sides of her face. Tentatively, slowly, she raised her hands and placed them on his waist. Her fingers stroked little circles, making his skin tingle where she touched him.

  “Mama?”

  With a gasp, Amy pushed away, staring at him with wide eyes, her lips rosy and soft. She swiped a hand across her mouth and tore her gaze from his. With a muttered curse, Aiden ran a shaky hand through his hair.

  “Lydia, what are you doing up?” Amy asked her daughter.

  “Why are you kissing the boogey-man?”

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