Moonlight, Monsters & Magic

by Linda G. Hill

  Dozens of eyes reflect back at her. Her heart speeds up, threatening to gallop out of her chest. Her eyes find Jake standing among them. “Are those wolves?” she mutters to herself.

  “Get in the truck, Ashley,” he shouts over the growls. Several of the bigger ones start to inch closer to him. Her feet move on their own as she starts for him. Something wet brushes her hand and without thinking, she swats at it.

  A loud creak and the truck moves. There is a hard tug on her braid, then an arm snakes around her throat, cutting off her oxygen. She tries to inhale, even as she digs her nails into the flesh.

  “Let go of her, Brutus—she’s nothing to you,” Jake barks as he turns his attention to them. Even in the dim light, she can see his eyes flash. The only time she’s seen that look was in eighth grade when some boys were bullying her and had her cornered.

  “You are paying her a lot of attention for someone who doesn’t mean anything.” Ashley feels his hot breath. When he licks her cheek, she can’t stop the shiver that jumps down her spine. “Look, Campbell, she wants me so bad, she’s shaking.”

  The truck shimmies under her as Jake—her Jake—appears before her. The arm tightens, and she sees little white stars as her knees buckle. Suddenly, it’s gone. She falls to her knees, her gasp harsh as she tries to inhale.

  A crash echoes across the mountain top on the other side of the truck. A series of excited yelps and barks surrounds the truck. Her sob is loud only to her, as she manages to crawl to the cab of the truck.

  At the end of the truck bed, she reaches through the sliding-glass window. Somehow, she pulls herself in and rolls onto the seat. Weak fingers fumble as she tries to slide the glass shut. Several wolves jump into the back, startling her, but she swallows the scream rising in her chest.

  The window slides shut as a gray one slams into it. The lock only reassures her for a moment as another slams the glass. Then pure terror almost paralyzes her as he realizes that both windows are rolled down.

  Her hands shaking, she turns the key and jumps at the sound of Kenny Chesney, crooning about his old blue chair. She fumbles for the buttons to roll up the windows while she turns off the radio with the other hand. Another sob as the truck rocks. Seeing nothing but wolves outside, she chokes, “Jake, where are you?”

  Off to the side, she sees his dark waves, and she exhales in relief. Just as she turns the key to start the engine, intent on getting them both away, she freezes. “Holy hell, is that fur?”

  The man that she was just kissing is growing fur.

  His nose.

  His ears.

  His clothes fall to pieces at his feet as a tail—

  She grips the steering wheel, pulling herself up so she can see. Standing where she could have sworn Jake was just standing is a huge wolf, a good head taller than the others.

  Torn between wanting to leave and needing to stay, unable to take her eyes off the wolf that she’s pretty sure is Jake, she says, “That can’t be real, can it? He just turned into a friggin’ wolf?”

  Her heart leaps into her throat when several of the smaller wolves jump him. She can’t see him anymore. “Oh no you don’t!” She pounds on the glass, screaming to get the wolves attention. Only the ones not attacking Jake turn.

  A man comes out of the trees. A very naked man. He glances at the fight, then meets her stare. She’s seen evil grins before. Disney movies, cop shows, in her nightmares. Hell, she even did a rotation at the psychiatric hospital in Morganton. She thought she had a good idea of what evil looks like.

  The look he gives her … “Holy hell,” she swears and scoots down in the seat. His smirk grows wider, as if he can hear her. He says something, and the fight stops.

  It takes seven smaller wolves to hold down Jake.

  Ashley cracks down the driver’s side window. The creepy man’s voice reaches her. “Nice of you to join us, Mr. Campbell. Tell me, what would your brother be willing to give me for you? The pack? Maybe if he would just simply pledge his allegiance to Lucca …”

  “He’s got to have a gun in here somewhere.” She grunts as she leans down to feel under the seat. Her exhale is loud as she comes in contact with cold steel. Gingerly, she pulls the shotgun out. She has to smile when she recognizes the same one he had in school. It only takes her a moment to check— “Thank goodness,” she breathes. The gun is loaded.

  She rolls down the window. Standing up, she slides out the window to sit on door, Dukes of Hazard-style. She waits until she has every eye on her before she pulls out the shotgun.

  It’s easy to pump, and she points the barrel straight up. She’s more than a little proud of herself for not jumping after she squeezes the trigger. “That was your warning.” Leveling the gun, she points it at the only other person in human form. “Now, unless you want to see how well I can shoot, you need to get your minions off my boyfriend.” When no one moves, she aims at the man’s groin. “Daddy and medical school made sure I know where to shoot man to make it where he’d think twice to come after me. I’m going to repeat what I just said. If you don’t let him go, you are about to learn how bad it is to be shot where the sun doesn’t shine.” Even the woods are silent before she repeats, “I said to get off my boyfriend. Now, damn it.”

  The man waves his hand, and the wolves holding Jake down back up. She aims the shotgun above their heads and squeezes. Every canine on top of the mountain jumps three feet.

  She swings the shotgun back, taking aim at the man again. A sneer appears, making her heart gallop in her chest. He takes a step toward them, and she urges, “Jake, get in the truck.”

  The wolf comes around the front. The passenger door creaks open and she feels the truck move. A quick glance tells her that a naked Jake is sitting beside her. The passenger door slams shut. “Can I shoot him?” she asks, half serious, half kidding.

  When she doesn’t immediately hear a yes or a no, though not wanting to take her eyes off the evil one, she glances through the windshield.

  Still looking mad as ever, Jake glares at the man standing among the wolves. She quietly slides back into the driver’s seat and lays the gun across her lap. One hand shifts the truck into drive and the other rolls up the window.

  None of the surrounding bodies move. Not sure what else to do, she lays on the horn, startling them all. Jake meets her eyes, then reaches for the gun. She returns her attention to the road, and he rolls down his window.

  The pack is silent until they reach the man, still standing, still leering. She doesn’t stop, but she doesn’t have to as Jake lifts the shotgun, takes aim, and fires three quick shots.

  A chorus of growls, howls, and whines answer the blast, and she steps on the gas. She grips the steering wheel as the truck bounces down the mountain. At the bottom of the mountain, she comes to a full stop at the stop sign and finally looks at him.

  Apart from some scratches, bites, and the dirt smudged on his face, she never would’ve guessed that he’d been in a fight.

  Well, except for him now being naked.

  With a doctor’s practiced eye, her gaze takes him in. Her mouth goes dry when she can’t stop looking at him.

  “Ashley, do you want me—”

  “No.” She meets his eyes through the dim light of the dashboard. “I am taking you to—”

  “My house. Let’s go to my house.”

  “All right, we can do that.” She looks both ways on the dark road before turning left. They are both quiet—she’s trying her best not to think about how naked he is beside her—until she reaches the turn off for his road. “This is it, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s the second drive,” he replies.

  It takes less than a minute to pull up in front of his house. She turns the key, leaving them in silence.

  “Will you come in—”

  “—only if you are going to tell me—”

  “—yes.” His whisper makes her look over in time to see him nod.

  “Will you come in?” he asks again.

  Ashley knows
that she never wants to tell him goodbye, even if he is a friggin’ werewolf, shifter, changeling or whatever the heck he is.

  She does know that he is hers. Always has been and hopefully will always be.

  “Let me get out first?” He whispers.

  “All right.” She watches him get out. After he shuts the door, he stands there, looking into the night.

  Naked.

  Even though she is still mad as hell because their one date was interrupted, seeing him like this takes her breath away and she remembers parts of her that no one has touched, well, in a long time.

  He comes around the front of the truck and she forces herself to watch his face, not his bottom, as he crosses in the light. She grabs her purse and the shotgun he left on the seat, unwilling to let go of it until she knows they are safe and sound.

  The door creaks and he offers his hand, like a gentleman of old. Without thinking, she slides her hand into his and an overwhelming sense of peace helps her to breathe again. Jake blinks, and she explains. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still mad as hell and want a full explanation as to what just happened.”

  He laces his fingers with hers. She bumps the door closed and he leads her into the house. The screen door squeaks as he opens it, and the old wooden door swings with the jingle of a bell. He shuts it behind them and flips the deadbolt.

  A lamp is on in the living room, revealing creamy blue walls and worn furniture that beckons her to come and curl up with a good book. Old hardwood floors and deep red rug greet her. She can see through to a welcoming kitchen with an old wooden table that must have witnessed several talks that went long into the night.

  Pictures line the walls, and she smiles as she recognizes him and his brother and sister. There are a couple of people who remind her of them—

  “Ashley?”

  She meets his eyes. “Jake?”

  “Let me go …” He motions to a hallway that’s hidden by the shadows.

  “No.” She stops him. Swallowing hard, she says, “Why do I feel more nervous now than I did on Onion?” He chuckles, and she wishes her heart would stop galloping out of her chest. “Let’s talk?”

  He runs his fingers through his waves and nods. “Sit,” he offers. He goes into the kitchen and comes back with a towel. He spreads it on the couch and sits beside her. “My entire family are shifters: werewolves as some call us. When Dad passes away, Rhys will become pack leader of the Campbell clan. We have three other packs that we consider our close allies, while the pack that attacked us tonight are members of the DeSantis pack.” His laugh is harsh in the quiet house. “They hate us.”

  “That much was obvious.” He squirms under her gaze. She should look away, but she doesn’t. “Your entire family?”

  “They are.”

  “Do they fall in love with humans?” She gasps and fights the urge to cover her neck. “Can you change people into—”

  “We can. There’s been agreements among modern clans not to change humans unless they are a wolf’s true mate.”

  “True mate?”

  “That thing—” He swallows hard and looks down. “That thing that I feel when I’m around you.”

  “You feel it too?”

  She can tell he’s trying to bite back a grin when he answers, “I do.”

  “What happens now?” she asks, her mouth suddenly dry but her palms sweaty.

  “Well …” His low baritone dances along her spine, and her need rushes through her. “I know what I want, and I think you do too.”

  “You’re someone I’ve wanted since I was old enough to want someone.” She looks up into his eyes again. She wants to say so many things, but he grabs her hand and tugs her to stand with him. A smirk appears and before she can say anything, he sweeps her up and over his shoulder. “What are you doing, Jake?” She giggles as she sees wood floors passing. “Oh,” she exhales. His perfect butt is right there within reach.

  He stops, and she sails through the air. She barely makes eye contact with him when she bounces on a soft surface. Leaning up on her elbows, she mutters, “This must be your room?”

  Leaning on the bed, he starts to crawl over her. Her legs fall open and he settles on his knees between them. “This was my great-grandparents’ house.” He reaches for the buttons on his flannel that she’s still wearing. “Do you want to talk about my house …?” His words trail off as he exposes her stomach. He lowers his head until his nose touches her, and she can’t help but to moan as she feels his hot breath. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  “What?”

  A faint pink tint creeps up his cheeks. “Wolves have very sensitive noses. And we don’t forget a scent. All those years you were gone to UNC, I would dream about you—how you smelled, the last time I saw you, the sound of your voice.”

  “Then why didn’t you call me?”

  “I wasn’t sure—”

  She grabs his hand—the one that’s lingering on her skin—and brings it up to her mouth. “I need you,” she murmurs into his palm before kissing it.

  He pulls it away, but only so he can follow her kiss with a kiss of his own. She opens up to him, and as she does, all the worry fades away. She eases herself down onto the soft flannel under her, and he follows, not breaking the contact.

  Their tongues mingle, but not for long. He pulls away only so he can kiss a trail along her cheek to her ear. Nibbling on it, a delicious shiver of want makes her every nerve stand to attention.

  She buries her fingers in his waves. “Jake …” She guides him back for a kiss. It’s fleeing as he backs away. “Wait,” she whispers, but he’s untying the strings that hold her pants.

  It only takes him a moment to pull them off, along with her shoes. The sound of them landing on the floor behind them, the feel of him on her skin, his exhale along with her inhale …

  He doesn’t give her time to think when he’s stealing a kiss. She wraps her arms around him, and he nestles in between her legs. Just when she thinks she knows what is going to happen, his lips leave hers. Her eyes flutter open in time to see a smirk that she’s never seen before. His lips retrace the trail they made earlier, when they were so rudely interrupted.

  A nibble on her ear.

  A long lick on her neck.

  Her arms squeeze him tight, and he shudders in her arms. His weight shifts above her, and his touch runs down her side, leaving a trail of fire, of want. His hand stops at her hip and he whispers in her ear, “I was going to do so many things to you, but I can’t wait anymore.”

  He raises his head and those stormy eyes of his meet hers and somehow, she knows that in this moment, she is exactly where she needs to be.

  “I promise—”

  Her kiss interrupts him, but it also gives him permission. She shifts her weight and opens herself up to him. Her hips move against his, and with a groan, he slides into her depths.

  “Ashley,”

  “Jake. Oh please, Jake,” she groans in his ear. “Fuck me, please.”

  “What the lady wants,” he murmurs as he kisses her nose, “the lady gets.” He moves inside her, making them both gasp for their next breath. His eyes flutter shut as he rests his forehead against hers. “Ashley, my sweet Ashley.”

  Sudden tears spring to her eyes as every emotion she’s ever felt for this guy—this wolf—inside her washes over her. Unable to speak or do anything else, she hangs on as he begins to pump. The pleasure rushing through her makes her come apart in his arms. It doesn’t take him long to follow, and she holds him as they both come back to Earth.

  When he can move again, he slides out and tucks her into his side. Her eyes drift shut. Safe in his arms, she surrenders to sleep. As she is dozing off, he whispers, “I love you, Ashley.”

  ~*The End*~

  I'd like to thank the amazing ladies of the OWG of putting all this together! Sera, Stacey, and Miriam thank you for keeping me motivated! But most of all my Mister, thank you for letting me run after my dreams. For that, I'll forever be grateful.

 
; And yes, I'm that Chele.

  ~ MGM

  ~~ * * * ~~

  About the Author

  Chele MacCabe has spent the last several years learning to string words together to tell stories. After all that practice and playing with her favorite fandom, she is ready to share her imagination with the rest of the world. She lives in the mountains with her mister, the short and the medium sized ones, and the critters that have found their way into their lives.

  Follow Chele here:

  Facebook: Chele MacCabe

  Twitter: @chele20035

  Tumblr: chele20035

  WHITE

  Sera Taíno

  Thiago undergoes open-heart surgery, but complications arise.

  At the same time, Clara is involved in a catastrophic car accident.

  What happens when you meet your soulmate on the brink of death? Hovering on the precipice, does love stand a chance?

  (m/f; heat level: mild)

  WHITE

  Through swinging doors and past elevators, my attending nurse pushed my hospital bed relentlessly toward the operating room. I was under the care of Dr. Avery Major, one of the youngest and most successful cardiologists in the country—or so my mother told anyone she met. He was about to attempt an emergency open-heart surgery on my weak heart, though the incongruence of possessing a heart in need of repair at the age of twenty-eight still left me burning with the unfairness of it all.

  When the gurney stopped, a group of masked faces loomed over me, while somewhere out of sight, I heard the clanging of instruments, most likely the ones that would be used to cut me open. I swallowed hard against the fear-induced nausea that rose in my throat.

  “Here we are, Mr. Limeira,” Dr, Major said, patting my hand with a joviality bordering on the inappropriate, given my precarious footing on the line between life and death. I was a young man confronting the specter of my demise, a prospect that didn’t invite humor. However, I passed on the opportunity to give voice to my annoyance and politely returned his greeting. We knew each other well enough after dealing with my heart condition for the last two years. If I died, I didn’t want to leave the mortal world in a fit of pique with someone who was so clearly happy. That’s no way to greet eternity, I thought as the mask descended over my face and I slipped into the dreamless darkness of a medically induced sleep.