Her Dark Moon (House of Wolves and Magic Book 1)

by Helen Scott

  My foot slipped on the gravel as I pushed up and I heard his footsteps rush toward the van. I was safely hidden on the roof, but it wasn't going to stay that way for long. My ears pricked as he edged around the van, moving around the corners quickly as though he was going to catch me just huddling there waiting for him.

  As soon as I was sure of his location I carefully eased up, tucking my feet under me until I was crouched like a very flat frog. And just like that frog I jumped.

  Here's the thing. No one ever expects to be attacked from above. Someone grabbing your ankles and yanking you to your knees? Sure. But a crazy shifter female launching herself from the top of an ancient, rusted conversion van? Not so much.

  I almost missed my opportunity when my wrists slipped and my hands didn't lock together around his neck like I'd planned, because gravity is a bitch, but I held on tight even though it felt like I was about to dislocate my wrists. As soon as I could I wrapped my legs around his hips and hoisted myself higher as he pulled at my arms.

  A growl sounded from him as I landed. It was loud enough that it might have got the others’ attention. The guy was strong, almost ripping me off him when he pulled on me, but when one of my heels connected with his stomach in a violent way, his grip loosened and I was able to get him in a headlock.

  I hated headlocks, they were difficult to do right and not at all how movies and TV made them look. Eventually I got him to go down, even though he tried to wrestle me off and throw me against anything he could. As much as he might be an asshole, I hoped I hadn't caused him any brain damage, well, I hoped I hadn’t damaged the little brain he had to work with.

  A set of boots pounded against the pavement, and I sprang up from the unconscious body and took off through the parking area. Something must have echoed weird, or maybe I got turned around somehow, because instead of running away from the new guy, I found myself running toward him. I spun on my heels and tried to make it as far away from the oncoming danger as I could.

  He was hot on my tail though and I knew I was going to lose the race, mainly because my legs were a lot shorter than his. He seemed to be able to run as fast as I could, but adding in the longer stride meant that the distance between us was closing, and closing fast. I skidded around a corner and latched onto the spoiler of the car to help me stop and turn to face him in time to clothesline the guy as he sped around the same corner.

  There was barely a second between him going down and popping back up on his feet. Not enough time for me to run. At least in this fight it was just one-on-one. If I could handle Richard, I could handle this guy, right? Right. Now was not the time for self-doubt.

  He swung and I dodged. We continued that way for a few moments as I let him wear himself out. Each swing, kick, or grab took its toll on him. The guy was lucky and got a few good hits in, enough to leave my head ringing and my vision blurring as pain spread across my head. I knew he expected me to go down, but I spent my free time getting hit in the head for fun. It was going to take more than a couple weak ass punches to knock me out.

  When it was my turn I didn't hold back, knowing I would probably only have a few opportunities to surprise him with my strength. He was already catching on to my speed and agility so I needed to make the most of the surprises I had left.

  When I swung I made sure not to telegraph the movement, my jab popping him square in the face before my right fist came out and hit him right across the jaw, snapping his head to the side. The jab hook combo was one of my favorites, especially when I added a cross and a knee. I knew from experience that it felt like the blows were coming from all sides and that the knee was usually unexpected.

  We weren't in the ring so I didn't expect him to play by the rules, and he shouldn't have expected the same from me. It was why once I'd kneed him in the stomach and got him doubled over, I grabbed his head and kneed him in the face. The combo essentially knocked him out from the ferocity and frequency of the blows.

  The guy was down with at least a broken nose, possibly a concussion and didn't look like he was going to get back up, so when I turned to run I was surprised when he tripped me, his hand on my ankle.

  What the fuck? Was this some kind of standard asshole move?

  I landed hard against the gravel of the parking area and let him pull me closer, the rough edges of stone cutting my skin and some possibly embedding itself in my arm from the feel of it. I held back, like a parachuter deciding when to pull the cord. When he was close enough that I knew I couldn't miss I kicked out, letting my foot plant itself into his face, and since I wasn't wearing any shoes, feeling the bone and cartilage of his nose crush even further before I yanked free of his hold.

  This time when I popped up to my feet and ran he didn't stop me. I took a rare glance over my shoulder just to confirm he was still down and was pleased to see him cupping his face as though I'd literally caved it in or something. It wasn't like I got away clean though, my left eye was almost swollen shut, I had a fat lip, and there were cuts all along my exposed skin and rock stuck in said cuts.

  My body begged me to stop and get the foreign material out of my body, but I couldn't. There was a third man out there and if I didn't get away now I wasn't sure I would be able to if he showed up. So I ran, ignoring my protesting body and weeping wounds.

  As I ducked down an alley I mentally beat myself up for ever leaving Roman in the first place. It was so stupid of me, like the panic about joining his pack made everything else, including Jax and his enforcers, leave my head. I'd been short sighted and needed to apologize to him for that if I could get him to come and pick me up.

  For most imprinted wolves joining the pack of your mate was a given, which way that swung was up to the two of you, but since I didn't have a pack it would be expected for me to join his, and as much as I hated it, I could have really used the back up a pack would have given me the last few days. A pack, if it was a good one, would protect me and help me fight off Jax. I was just so scared that Roman's pack was like the one that I grew up in that I hadn't even considered until now that he might be part of a decent pack.

  Part of me wished I remembered the way back to Roman's apartment because it would be so much easier if I knew where I was going, but I didn't. I had to get to the shop instead, get his number from the files at the garage and hope he wasn't an asshole who refused to come and pick me up. He didn't seem the type, so I pushed that thought aside.

  One thing at a time.

  Get to the garage.

  Before Jax caught up to me.

  21

  ALL I NEEDED to do was get to the garage and hope that would be enough to keep me safe. At least long enough for me to make a phone call. But Jax was fast and relentless, which meant I had to be extra careful.

  I took every back alley and circuitous route I could think of to avoid being on any of the main roads as I made my way to work. It had to be a weekday judging from the traffic on the roads that I could see, but I honestly couldn't tell what day it was anymore. Everything seemed to be blurring together. Had I missed any work while Jax held me prisoner? I wasn't sure.

  From the feel of it, and the way the city was dimly lit while it came alive for the day, it was early enough that Clark wouldn't be in just yet. Plus the sky was still fairly dark, like it was going to be one of those gloomy days, and I knew for a fact that Clark came in later on those days, no matter how much he would protest otherwise. The only problem with that was I didn't have a key to the shop and would have to wait for him to unlock the door. That plan wasn't going to work for me. I needed to get off the streets and fast.

  Given the fact that I'd barely escaped from the three enforcers chasing me and had seen multiple shifters out and about, which was weird given how early it was, I didn't know how long I'd be able to wait. I had seen one meandering down an alley I was going to turn down earlier and multiple guys spread out throughout the city, which had made it almost impossible to get to work.

  I'd managed it though, and wasn't about to be caught by th
em because I was forced to wait outside for Clark. They should have been there already waiting for me, which was what put me so on edge. After all, if Jax had known about the cafe and about my apartment then he knew all my usual spots. My only hope of escaping Jax's men and his plans for me was to get back to Roman and ask for his protection. Hell, at this point, I'd beg if I had to. I circled back behind the shop and found the window into my boss's office area, the only part of the garage I didn't spend much time in.

  The window was already cracked because the place was ancient, and Clark was too cheap to fix the shit that broke, so all it took was a good nudge with my elbow for it to break even further. And by a good nudge I meant slamming my elbow into it. I tried to be as quiet as I could while I broke the glass that was still stuck around the window frame, but my nerves got the better of me and I climbed in before it was completely gone. My hands sliced open on the sharp edges of the remaining glass, leaving a bloody trail over the windowsill.

  I busted through the thin metal door that kept the office separated from the rest of the shop and headed to the filing cabinet where I knew I'd be able to find Roman's paperwork since Clark didn't trust computers. The guy was old school and wanted everything in triplicate, although the paperwork was all stored in filing cabinets that were right next to each other so I wasn't sure what the point was. It wasn't like the man was keeping backup records somewhere safe. He was stuck in his ways though, that was for sure. The one time I'd brought up using a computer or tablet instead he'd told me if that was the kind of place I wanted to work then I may as well leave then and there.

  My fingers flew over the papers looking for the right hanging folder, and when I found it I grabbed it out of the draw so fast that papers went flying everywhere. I didn't care about any of them, so long as I could find Roman's number. When I saw the paper with his scrawled, irritated handwriting my heart leapt in my chest. Salvation was only a phone call away, hopefully.

  As I reached down to pick it up I noticed that I was dripping blood everywhere. The gashes on my hands were much deeper than I had initially thought and were taking longer to heal. I couldn't wait for them to close up so I didn't make a mess though. Time was of the essence, so I grabbed an old rag—one that if I was human would probably give me tetanus or something. I wrapped it around the hand that was bleeding the most, thankful for the adrenaline that was coursing through me, numbing the pain enough to allow me to function. At some point it would wear off and then I'd be fucked. I just had to hope I was safe by then.

  I moved over to the old phone that was mounted on the wall, the handset and receiver were probably white at one point, but had turned creamy with age and dirt, not to mention the oil and grease that coated it as well. The paper shook in my hands like a leaf in the wind as I raised it high enough for me to read and dial at the same time. Each button I pressed brought me a little relief, even if the numbers were mostly worn off, I knew it would get me closer to Roman and closer to safety.

  "Nina?" Roman's voice comes from the other end of the phone and my heart eased its frantic pace just at the sound of it.

  "Roman," I breathed his name like a prayer.

  "What's wrong?" he demanded, his voice made me wish I'd never left his side.

  "I'm in trouble. Some of Jax's guys broke into my apartment. I got away, but I'm scared. Can you come and get me?"

  "Where are you? Are you hurt?" his voice wavered like he was already in motion, but the determination that sang through it made my heart warm.

  "I'm at the garage. I'm banged up, but I'll live." I looked at my hand wrapped with the cloth and brought it to my face delicately poking the puffed up skin around my eye. I had to bite back a hiss of pain when my finger connected with a particularly sore spot.

  "Good. I'll be there as soon as I can, just hide somewhere and I'll find you. Stay safe, Nina. I'm on my way." I heard the engine of his car rev over the phone before he hung up a second later. Wait. Hide. Both things were easier said than done at that point. Patience was not something I had at the best of times, so asking for it while I was scared and hurting was likely a waste of breath.

  I folded the paper with his number on it and shoved it into the side of my sports bra since my leggings didn't have any pockets and I didn't want to risk losing it when there was no guarantee that Roman would get to me before Jax's men.

  Somebody jiggled the handle of the front door to the shop and after a second’s pause it began to raise on the slow, creaky chains. The miniature version of the same doors we used on the car bays always made Clark smile. I panicked and hid behind the car that had been left in the bay overnight. As I heard footsteps getting closer I tried to fight the sensation that was clawing at my throat, making it tighter. I just had to keep myself safe a little longer.

  "What the fuck?" Clark's voice came from the other side of the car.

  I peeked over the hood of the car and confirmed that it was just Clark standing there looking at the mess I'd made. "Hey Boss," I said as I stood. My body was shaking slightly from the adrenaline rush wearing off and the pain was starting to hit as well.

  "The fuck is going on here?" he demanded as he spun around to face me.

  Everything in me froze at his question. What could I tell him? Oh, I'm a shifter who is being hunted by a crazy alpha all because he's convinced himself that we should be together. Clark would probably think I'd lost my damn mind.

  "Someone broke into my apartment while I was still home. When I ran I thought they were following me so I hid. This was the only place I could think of to go that would be safe. Sorry I broke your window."

  "You broke my window?" he asked, incredulous that I would do something like that to his precious shop.

  "I don't have a key and I was desperate. I didn't feel safe outside," I replied with a shrug. He knew damn well I didn't have a key because he refused to give one to me. I'd asked a few times and he always said no, that he didn't want me in the shop by myself. Apparently, when he paid someone under the table, even if they worked for him for years without a single issue, he still didn't trust them.

  He rolled his eyes at me when he thought I wasn't looking but said, "I'm glad you're safe. We'll figure out the window, but you better go clean it up if you've been bleeding everywhere."

  I walked back to the cleaning closet and grabbed the broom and dust pan, as well as some cleaning wipes and paper towels. Clark was already on the phone with the insurance company telling them what happened, seeing if there was any way he could get a new window out of them. It wasn't surprising, Clark never wanted anything to come out of his pocket, and I had a sneaking suspicion that if I continued working there then I would have to pay for the window somehow.

  The cleaning was actually somewhat of a relief. It was something to do while I waited on Roman. Something to keep my mind busy instead of obsessing over what had happened this morning and wondering how the hell Jax's men hadn't checked my place of work yet. Either way I was glad to be doing such a normal task.

  I'd been working for a while, making sure not to cut myself any further on the bits of broken glass that seemed to be everywhere, when the scent of smoke filled my nose. At first I thought it was someone outside actually smoking, but then it turned into more of a wood burning smell than a cigarette smell. I popped up from where I'd been crouched on the floor cleaning and the scent became even stronger.

  The wind changed direction and I lost the strong scent, but it was still there slightly so I followed it. No matter where I moved along the back of the shop, I could scent the smoke. I hustled back into the office, earning a strange look from Clark, and stuck my head out of the window, looking behind the building.

  Flames licked up the entire back side of the building. There was no way that the entire building accidentally caught fire. This was on purpose.

  My heart thudded in my chest with fear, the beat a staccato rhythm behind my ribs. The smoke wasn't enough yet that it was dangerous so I left the office and crept toward the front of the garage, using t
he cars, pillars, and anything else I could to hide myself.

  There were six large male shifters waiting in the street, set up in a semi-circle all around the garage. If I tried to leave that way then I'd have no choice but to run between them. I was under no illusions about how far I'd make it if that happened. Oh no, I was sure that they were spaced just right to grab me as I went.

  The bastards were trying to smoke me out, but I knew if I went that way then the only thing that waited for me was capture, which would be followed shortly by torture and imprisonment no doubt. I needed to find another way out if I wanted to survive.

  22

  "YOU SMELL THAT, NINA?" Clark's voice called out from the office.

  "What is it, Boss?" I called back, not wanting to accidentally alarm him if he'd just gotten a weird whiff of something. Part of me was still hoping that the fire would just die out and that the big plan to smoke me out would fail.

  "Smells smokey."

  I walked back into the office and looked from him to the window where the smoke was starting to pour in. "It is smokey!" I replied, pitching my voice higher to sound alarmed, even though I'd expected this to happen.

  Clark turned around from where he'd been facing the opposite wall from the window and saw the smoke billowing in. "We've gotta get outta here," he said. He stood and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the door.

  As we walked, I tried to think of something I could tell him that would prevent him from dragging me out there to the shifters that were waiting to catch me. His free hand dipped into his pocket and withdrew his ancient flip phone. I watched as he punched the numbers 9-1-1 with his fat finger and brought me closer and closer to the exit.

  Finally, I pulled my hand away. "I can't go out there, Clark," I said, backing up a few steps. I'd only had a shot with the three shifters before because I’d attacked them individually. There would be no way for me to break them up now. It was either fight six of them or don't fight at all and find another way out.