FALL OF A BLOOD MOON

by Jodi Vaughn

  Who the fuck knew. He’d thought he knew women. But Ginny was proving him wrong.

  He hung up the pump and trashed his receipt. He knelt and secured the saddlebags Ginny had left open.

  “Nice bike, man.” A big, burly human with muscles and a bald head sauntered up to him. “I’m in the market for a bike like that.”

  “Not for sale.” He straddled the bike.

  The man stepped in front of the Harley and grabbed the handlebars. “Well then, why don’t you give it to me?”

  “I’m not giving you shit. But I will crack your head in for you,” Jaxon snarled.

  The guy let out a laugh. “Look, you little piece of…”

  “I don’t have time for this shit.” Jaxon placed his feet on the ground and stood. He hit the guy between the eyes.

  The man blinked and then fell back like a tree, his head smacking against the pavement with a sickening sound.

  Jaxon started the engine and the bike roared to life. He sped out of the gas station, running over the guy’s fingers.

  He drove as far as he remembered seeing Ginny walking and then inhaled, using his sense of smell to follow her deeper into town.

  He rumbled past rows and rows of mansions, looking and smelling for Ginny’s scent. He noticed the houses all had state-of-the-art cameras aimed at the driveway, and some even had gated entrances.

  The large houses were quite different from what Ginny had grown up in. She’d been a country girl through and through and preferred going fishing and having picnics to shopping or going out for a fancy dinner.

  She was a shell of who she used to be.

  He slowed his bike in front of large mansion. The gate had been activated, and the gates were swinging closed. He saw her small figure walking up the driveway. Without thinking, he drove through the gate, barely making it inside before they closed.

  There were no lights on inside the house. Unusual for someone expecting their wife to come home after being gone all day.

  The gate slammed shut behind him.

  “What the fuck am I doing?” he muttered to himself. Now he was trapped on the wrong side of the gate with no way to open it without waking the house.

  But he’d started this journey, and now he needed to see it through to the finish.

  Chapter Nine

  Ginny held her breath as she opened the back door to her house. The lights were off and it was eerily silent.

  That was odd.

  Though she’d never been late getting home, she’d fully expected John to be waiting for her at the door, eager to dole out his punishment.

  She hated John with a vengeance. The only thing that kept her tied to this place was that promise she’d made so long ago.

  She glanced down at her clothes and cringed. Appearing in front of John dressed in jeans and biker boots would flame the fire of his rage.

  She headed into the half bath off the kitchen and quietly shut the door. She cringed when the hinge creaked.

  When she didn’t hear any footsteps on the hardwood floor, she turned on the light and hurried to change her clothes.

  She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and froze. Her eyes sparkled instead of looking dead. Her normally pale face was flushed from the exhilarating ride on the back of the Harley, and her lips were pink from thinking about Jaxon.

  She’d never thought in a million years she’d ever see Jaxon again.

  She’d never planned what to say to him if she ever did.

  Today had been a big shock to her system. Like her grandmother’s home in Arkansas, her relationship with Jaxon had died long ago.

  She’d seen to that.

  “Ginny!” John yelled.

  Her heart jumped in her throat at the sound of his voice.

  She stuffed the clothes in the cabinet underneath the sink behind a stack of toilet paper and monogramed hand towels. She finger-brushed her hair and looked at her reflection. There was no time to even think about a lie John would believe.

  The door swung open. John stood there, his large frame filling in the doorway and sucking the oxygen out of the room.

  Her heart pounded in her chest and her eyes widened.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” He narrowed his blue eyes and curled his perfectly manicured fingers into fists. He was still wearing a button-up shirt and tan slacks, both devoid of wrinkles. John always demanded perfection, from how he looked right down to his wife. Appearances were important to him.

  His angry gaze raked over her disheveled appearance.

  “My car was stolen.” She lifted her chin. At least that part wasn’t a lie.

  “I had to find a way home. I tried to get here as fast as I could.” She swallowed. “I knew you would be worried.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Because my phone died. My charger was in the car and I had no way to charge it.” The lie rolled out easy enough.

  He cocked his head and studied her. Testing to see whether she was lying or not. She’d learned that she could tell a lot about how hard he was going to hit her by looking in his eyes.

  She braced for his next question.

  “So how did you get home?” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

  To the casual observer, John was handsome—more than handsome. With his dark hair, blue eyes, and body made of muscle, he looked like the perfect male specimen. He could have gone into modeling and done quite well. But if they could see inside John’s body and stare into his mind muddled with evil and a heart coated in sin, they would see something else.

  He was not just a werewolf. John was a monster, a bloodthirsty monster with no conscience.

  “I caught a ride with a biker.” She took a deep breath. “It was the only option I had. There was no one else on the country road.”

  She swallowed. “I had no choice.”

  “Who was this biker?”

  Ginny shrugged. He didn’t act like he knew Jaxon had brought her into Louisiana. But he was also one to guard his expressions like a snake. He would strike when she least expected it.

  “Just some stranger.”

  “Did he touch you? In any way?” He narrowed his gaze.

  “No. He was very polite. He didn’t make a move to do anything.”

  “What about the envelope?” His eyes widened slightly. “Did you deliver it to the bartender?”

  “Yes, I gave it to the bartender as you instructed. It was at the bar that my car was stolen.” She looked away. Fuck. She’d totally forgotten about the envelope after the bartender had been killed.

  “Stolen by who?” He stepped out of the way so she could walk out of the bathroom.

  She released the tension in her shoulders. If he was focused on the envelope, then maybe he really didn’t know about Jaxon.

  She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass out of the cabinet. She held it in the door of the refrigerator and filled it with ice-cold water and then took a drink before turning back to him.

  “I don’t know. Someone said it was some witch.”

  His hand slammed down across her face. She dropped the glass and it shattered on the floor. Pain exploded behind her eyes and she literally saw stars. She cradled her face in her hands and dropped to her knees, cradling her stomach to protect the baby.

  He loved hitting her in the stomach. The bruises there weren’t visible to the public.

  He rarely hit her in the face. He didn’t want to leave bruises on her face.

  If he found out she was pregnant, he’d kill the baby. He’d make sure he didn’t have an heir that might take away his future as Pack Master.

  “You lying bitch.” He grabbed her by the hair and lifted her head. He slammed his fist into her stomach. The breath whooshed out of her lungs and she crumbled to the floor. Her arms went around her stomach as she struggled to breathe.

  “John, please.” She wheezed out. What had she said? What had she done wrong?

  “That’s not some witch. It’s the Witch of Yazoo City. That
same bitch that Barrett Middleton has been trying to capture since his Guardian let her get loose out of that cemetery.”

  “I didn’t know that.” She cried out. The pain in her stomach spread like white-hot fire.

  “And according to my sources, not only did she steal your car. She killed the bartender. And took my envelope.” He gritted his teeth and curled his fingers to fists.

  She curled herself into a fetal position and braced for the next blow. With him, she never could tell how hard it would be.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she whispered, unsure if he even heard her. Images of Jaxon flashed through her head. “I did everything like you asked me to. It’s not my fault she stole it.”

  “It is your fault, Ginny. You should have called me after you knew the car was gone.” He kicked her again in the stomach. She screamed.

  “You should have told me it was the witch that had stolen it.” He walked around her body and kicked her in the lower back near her kidney. She cried out again in pain.

  “Most important of all, you stupid cunt, you should have told me it was Jaxon Taylor who gave you a ride home.”

  She almost forgot the tremendous amount of pain racking her body.

  He knows. He knows. He knows.

  Those words danced around in her head like flames of a fire, unable to be contained, unable to be controlled.

  She slammed her eyes shut.

  She’d known fear since becoming John’s wife. She’d known terror since living in his home. But now, right now in this moment, all she could see was death.

  Hers and Jaxon’s.

  Chapter Ten

  Jaxon eased closer to the mansion, careful to keep hidden in the shadows. His keen vision had alerted him to every single camera around the house, and he knew how to avoid getting caught on video.

  Whoever this fucker was had money up the ass.

  Despite all the cameras and the gate in front of the house, he didn’t see any guards. That felt off to him.

  Glass shattered inside the darkened house, and he quickened his steps to get closer.

  Maybe Ginny had knocked something over while stumbling around in the dark. He’d waited about ten minutes after she entered to see if she turned on a light. She didn’t. While he waited, he made sure no one was watching him.

  A scream tore through the house. Every muscle in his body tensed. His heart rate amped up and his breathing increased. He hurried toward the back of the house where he’d seen her enter. He heard something rustling in the trees behind him. He stopped and turned.

  Something black jumped on his face and dug its claws in.

  “What the fuck.” He grabbed the black fur ball and pulled it off. He slung it to the ground and glared. “A fucking cat.”

  “I’m not just a cat, you asshole.” The black cat hissed and then pawed at him.

  “A talking cat, perfect,” he said.

  “That’s rich coming from a talking wolf.” The black cat turned and padded off into the trees.

  He started to go after it to find out if the cat was a spy, but just then he heard another scream.

  Ginny.

  He ran toward the back and stopped just as the door opened. He slid behind a large tree in the back yard and waited.

  A large man hurried down the steps toward the car parked around back. He looked back over his shoulder. “If you fucking leave this house before I get back, I’m going to make you wish you were dead, Ginny.”

  Anger rose up in Jaxon’s chest like kerosene and splashed into his heart.

  He was going to kill that fucker.

  The male jumped in the car and sped out of the driveway.

  Jaxon ran inside the house and froze. A small form was huddled on the floor.

  “Ginny?” His voice quivered.

  “Oh, god, Jaxon, you have to leave.” She tried to push herself up on her elbows, but she slipped.

  He reached for the light switch.

  “No. Don’t turn on the light.”

  He knelt by her side. Gently, he helped her up into a sitting position. She wheezed and cradled her stomach.

  “I’m picking you up.”

  “No, wait. Just give me a minute.” She shook her head and then drew in a pained breath.

  “Jesus, Ginny. I guess I don’t have to ask if that was your husband who did this to you. You’re not fucking staying here.” His voice cracked. His stomach literally churned at seeing her beaten and bruised.

  “You don’t understand, Jaxon.”

  “That you stay with a man that hits you? No, I don’t fucking understand. Look, I don’t care if you never want to see me again. I’m not asking you to come live with me. What I am asking you to do is leave this place. Ginny, I can take you away and you won’t ever have to see this guy again.” Jaxon swiped at the tears running down her cheeks.

  “You don’t understand, Jaxon.” She sniffed.

  “Then tell me, Ginny. Tell me something to help me understand. Make me understand. Do you love him that much? That you would allow him to beat the shit out of you? You know that’s not love, right?”

  “I don’t love him, Jaxon. I hate him with a passion.” She looked up at him. “Help me stand.”

  He helped her to her feet but kept his hand around her waist to steady her. She felt frail and thin, much too thin. This wasn’t his Ginny.

  But he wanted to help her find her way back.

  “So you hate him,” he said.

  “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “Yet you stay with him.” He shook his head. “This doesn’t make sense, Ginny. You’re not making any sense.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you on drugs? Has he drugged you?”

  “I’m not on drugs, Jaxon. I rarely ever drink.” She smiled a little. He swiped a cut on her lip with his thumb.

  “So tell me then. Make me understand.”

  “I don’t have a choice. If I leave him, he will kill my mother.” She looked into his eyes.

  He shook his head. “But your mother died when you were a baby. So did your father. That’s why you were living with your grandmother.”

  “That’s what I thought. I thought I had no parents.” She turned her head from him.

  “Are you saying they are both alive?” Her words didn’t make any sense at all.

  “Yes,” she said softly.

  “So why was your grandmother raising you?” He shook his head.

  “My mother ran away from my father when she was close to giving birth. Once she got to my grandmother’s house, she went into labor.” She shook her head. “There wasn’t time for a doctor, so my grandmother delivered me. My mother planned on leaving the next day, running as far as possible. She wanted to go to Alaska and raise me without fear of my father ever finding us.”

  “What happened?”

  “The next day, my mother saw my father driving up the driveway. She gave me to my grandmother and made her promise, made her swear to run into the woods and hide. She made my grandmother promise to protect me with her life.” She looked into his eyes. “So that’s what she did.”

  “My father came into the house, outraged that my mother had fled, had left him. When she’d found out she was pregnant with me, she was scared of bringing me up in a house with him as a father. So that’s why she left.” She winced as she touched her bruised face.

  “He found your mom.” He shook his head. “But why didn’t he try to find you?”

  She smiled a little. “My grandmother is a very smart woman. When my mom showed up and gave birth to me, she knew my father would be coming for me. She knew he would catch up to my mom. After I was born, she went out in the backyard and she started digging a hole. She dug all night until the hole was deep enough for a grave.” She looked at him. “She had a wooden crate in the barn. She had a calf that had died the day before my mom arrived, so she wrapped the body in sheets and put it in the crate. She buried it six feet down and then marked the ‘grave’ with a wooden cross.”

  “So your grandmother wa
s going to tell your father that your mother had died in childbirth and you hadn’t survived.” He’d always liked her grandmother. The woman was wise and kind.

  “Yes. So when my father arrived, my mother lied and said that I had died, that I was stillborn.” She shook her head. “He didn’t believe her until she showed her the grave. If it hadn’t been for my grandmother’s quick thinking and planning, he would have hunted her down until he found me.”

  “So your father took your mother away with him, and for eighteen years you were hidden from him.” He took a step back, shocked at the story she’d just told him.

  “Yes.”

  “So when your father found you and brought you back, why didn’t your mother take you and leave? You both could have left together.”

  “My mother was too conditioned by then. Living with him for eighteen years had changed her, made her almost mad. Made her loyal to him. When he found me and brought me back here, she begged me to promise never to try to leave.”

  “I don’t understand that.” He shoved his fingers through his hair.

  “It’s not meant for you to understand, Jaxon.” Her voice was quiet and sad. “It’s just how life is sometimes.”

  “So you just plan on staying here, living here with your abusive mate?” Anger curled in his gut and flowed to every muscle in his body. Ginny was supposed to be his. He was supposed to be Ginny’s mate.

  “He’s not my mate. Not in ways that count,” she said.

  He didn’t say anything. He just nodded.

  “So how did your father find out that you were alive?” He needed to know the rest of the story. He needed to hear.

  “When I was planning our wedding, I got really emotional one night with my grandmother. I told her that the only thing that would make my wedding day perfect was if I could have my mother there. I was just a girl wanting my dead mother to share my special day. I had no idea I would regret saying that out loud.” She looked away and shook her head. “My grandmother thought she could get a letter to my mother without my father finding out. She still had some people in Louisiana she trusted. She wanted to tell her about the wedding. It was going to be a surprise for me. I was at home, upstairs in my room. I heard a car coming up the driveway. I didn’t really pay any mind to it. I was too busy trying on my…” Her words tapered off.