Dueling Moons: A Pat Wyatt Novel (The Pat Wyatt Series Book 2)

by Laura Del

  I turned to see burly Nathan standing behind me, smiling. “Would ya like to dance, Ms. Pat?” he asked in his raspy, southern voice.

  “I’d be delighted.”

  After the dance with Nathan, everyone wanted to have their chance with me. Well, almost everyone. Stag and Mike sat at the table talking to one another. They looked like they were really into the conversation. Mike would talk and Stag would nod, then Stag would talk and Mike would nod. I began to wonder what they were discussing, but I was having too much fun to find out. In fact, the moon was very low in the sky before I settled back into my seat.

  “You looked pretty good out there, girly,” Stag said with that cocky smile of his. He handed me a glass of water and I gulped it down without a moment’s hesitation.

  “Pretty good?” Angel said, limping over to us. She was having a terrible time with her heels. They even made her grimace as she took them off. See, I was right. They were nowhere near comfortable. “Honey, you’re only pretty good in bed.” Ouch! “This girl has real talent.”

  I blushed at the compliment and smiled at the insult meant for Stag, until Mike opened his big mouth. “If you think she’s good at dancin’,” he said, and I pleaded with him silently not to say it, “you should hear her sing.”

  Great, now he’d done it. Now I was going to have to sing in front of all these people.

  “Yes,” a voice said from behind me, making my skin crawl. “You should hear my wife sing.”

  Both Mike and Stag stood up, looking purely wolf as I turned slowly, trying not to make any sudden movements.

  There he stood with that creepy smirk on his face: Samuel Satané, in the flesh.

  Angel growled at my side, while everyone else became still and quiet. The creepy part of it was, they all began to form a circle around us, just as a real wolf pack would do with their prey.

  “Easy now, pup,” Samuel said coolly as he reached out to pet her, but she bit at him. He dropped his hand, that awful smirk never wavering. “I just need to talk to my wife.”

  “Ex-wife,” both Mike and Stag said from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder at them, and they looked at each other before they looked at me.

  “I like to have the ink dry on my documents before I start ex-ing people out of my life.”

  I turned my attention back to him, looking into his cold blue eyes. “What do you want, Samuel?”

  “Me?” he asked innocently, placing his hand over his heart. “Whatever makes you think I want something?” God, he was so phony. No wonder my sister fell in love with him. They were both the king and queen of fake.

  I folded my arms. “Oh, I don’t know, Samuel. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re standing right in front of me.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me, raising his fist ever so slightly. Mike and Stag growled, and all the wolves seemed to echo their warning.

  Samuel relaxed his muscles and became very still. “I am not here to fight. I am just here to talk to Patricia.”

  “Good thing, too,” Angel growled at him, “because you’re clearly outnumbered, bloodsucker.”

  “I’ll ask you again,” I said, pulling everyone’s attention back to me. “What do you want?”

  He became very serious, bowing his head so his face was closer to mine. I could feel Mike and Stag stiffen behind me, while Angel’s eyes turned a florescent shade of yellow. “I need to discuss something with you,” he whispered, but I was positive that everyone could else hear him. “Alone.”

  I knew that it was mostly likely a trap, but I just wanted him to leave, so I went along with it. “Fine.”

  “What?” Mike screamed at me, grabbing hold of my arm. Then he turned me around to face him. “You can’t go with him, bébé.”

  “Mike, if I have a problem, I’ll scream,” I explained, staring into his eyes. We had one of those silent understandings and he nodded, letting me go. I turned back, gesturing toward the parking lot. “Shall we?”

  The wolves parted as we walked past them. And when we were finally in the middle of the gravel and cars, he pulled me to him, kissing me as hard as he could. His cold lips felt colder under my overheated touch, but I did not kiss him back. I just stood there waiting for him to stop. After a moment, he pulled away from me, hunching his shoulders.

  “Why are you here?” I asked, realizing that it was quiet. Dead quiet.

  “I do not know,” he said, closing his eyes with a sigh. Something was wrong. Samuel seemed forlorn, and it wasn’t like him.

  “Then I suggest you leave.” I told him, turning to walk back to the party.

  He caught my wrist before I could take two steps.

  “Do not leave,” he pleaded, and my eyes widened. Oh yes, something was most definitely wrong. “Hear me out,” he continued as I tried to pull away from his grasp. “Please.”

  That caught my attention. Samuel must have been extremely desperate to say the “p” word. “You have two minutes,” I said, looking at my watch.

  He let go of my wrist, and I stood there with my arms folded. “I have a problem,” he breathed, looking at me, and I waved him on. “Jessica is driving me insane.” He ran his fingers through his black hair. He was clearly frustrated, and I stifled a laugh. “She will not leave me be. Everywhere I am, she is, too. I am so desperate that I have told her that I am a vampire, but she does not seem to care. She told me that she loved me no matter what and now she wants to be one of us.”

  I bit my lip, trying to keep the laughter in as he continued. “I need you to persuade her not to do it. I could not stand an eternity with a woman who thinks the Louvre is something you scrub your back with.”

  That was when I lost it. I doubled over with laughter, and I even snorted a couple of times.

  “It is not funny, Patricia.”

  “First of all,” I managed to say through giggles, “that’s Ms. Wyatt to you. And second,” I started to sober up, “why in the world would I help you?”

  “I am your husband,” he said, indignantly.

  “Ex-husband,” I corrected him. “And if you don’t remember, you tried to kill me and succeeded in raping me. So I don’t see why I should even give you the time of day. Hell, I don’t see why I shouldn’t just stake you for being here in the first place.” I had a flashback of him placing me on that dungeon bed and hitting me over and over again. He had destroyed me outside, and I was still not fully intact inside. Even after two months of being away from him, I still had days where I would be sitting down doing my work, and that dungeon would creep back into my mind.

  I blinked back to the present, seeing that his lips had curled back over his teeth and his fangs where out. “Put those things away,” I said, waving off his anger.

  His fangs retracted and he just stared at me. “I should not have come.” Then he did something I didn’t expect: he bowed his head, and began to cry. No tears came out, but the sobs were unmistakable.

  I don’t know what made me do it, but I placed my hand tentatively on his shoulder. Then his knees buckled and he knelt in front of me.

  This was not to be believed. A creature like Samuel crying over something that he could have easily fixed himself struck me as odd. I mean, all he had to do was snap her neck or control her mind, and that would be that.

  I knelt with him, placing my hand back on his shoulder. At that moment, he grabbed hold of my waist, placing his head on my chest. “I am so sorry,” he said, glancing up at me. His eyes were full of sorrow. “I just love you so much it hurts not to be around you.”

  He held me tighter, squeezing me to him. That’s when the warning bell went off in my head. “And if I cannot have you,” he said with not a hint of sadness left in his voice, “no one will.”

  I pushed on his arms, but his grasp tightened. He had pulled on my heartstrings and had gotten me to feel sorry for him. God, I could have kicked myself for falling for his act.r />
  His hold on me grew tighter, almost to the point where I couldn’t breathe, and I began to panic. He was going to crush me before I could even manage to scream for help. So I did the only thing I could do: I tried to get him off me.

  I struggled, pushing on his massive arms until my breath caught in my throat and I saw spots in front of my eyes.

  Suddenly, I heard a growl and his arms were ripped away from me. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with cool, crisp air. When my vision cleared, I saw Stag pinning Samuel to the ground.

  “You leave her alone,” he said, teeth pointed and eyes almost orange in the dim light. I watched as he dug his nails into Samuel’s back, and then Samuel hissed at him. “Now, when I let you up,” Stag continued, “you’re gonna get the fuck outta my town. Do you understand me, vampire?”

  “Yes,” Samuel said, his voice muffled by the gravel he was eating.

  “Good,” Stag growled, standing him up. He shoved Samuel toward the woods, sneering at him. “And don’t even think about fighting me right now, vamp, ’cause you will lose.” Stag gave him a cocky smile, and Samuel straightened himself out.

  “This is not over, Patricia,” Samuel hissed, glaring at me over his shoulder. And in a matter of seconds, he disappeared into the trees.

  Stag helped me to stand, and I swayed. The world went topsy-turvy for a second. “Easy now, girly,” he told me, placing his arm around my waist. “You don’t wanna hurt yourself.”

  “How did you know I was in trouble?” I asked, looking up into his warm, brown eyes.

  “I was eavesdropping,” he admitted without shame. “And when you went quiet, I knew somethin’ was up.”

  I smiled. “I’m both happy and angry that you did that. The happiness is outweighing the anger, though.”

  He laughed and we walked back to the party, his arm still holding me up.

  In that moment, I had a newfound respect for Elliot “the Stag” Sagmore.

  chapter

  EIGHT

  Having almost died before returning to a party really puts a damper on your spirits.

  After Stag had saved me from being crushed to death by Samuel, he told Mike that he would take me home. Mike hemmed and hawed at first, but agreed when I told him that I would be all right. Besides, I didn’t have the heart to take him away from all of his wolf buddies now that they seemed to be having a great time together. I made sure Angel was looking out for him and I left so Mike could rekindle his friendships.

  Stag gave him the keys to his Escalade and told Mike that he would stand guard over me until he came home. Mike nodded in agreement, and at a quarter past one, we left.

  The car ride home was as silent as a dead man at his own funeral. Stag drove (after major protest from me), and I realized that this was the last time that I would be in my new ‘Stang. It would have to go back later today. There was no keeping it now. God, I hated that Samuel did this to me. It was always the “if I can’t have you, nobody can” speech and I would wind up almost dead. It was so…cliché.

  I glanced out the window at the dark trees, and before I knew it, we were outside of my building. When I got out of the car, I fought with my clutch to get my keys out—it would be the last time I would wear that purse—and then we finally made our way inside.

  As soon as I opened the door to the apartment, Stag walked in, plopping himself down on the couch with a sigh.

  I shook my head, closed the door behind me, and threw my purse and coat on my computer desk. “Thanks,” I finally said, looking down at my shoes. I could feel my face grow hot as I turned on the overhead light. I was embarrassed.

  “For what?” Stag asked confused.

  I looked at him. “You know, for taking me home and for saving my life.”

  He smiled at me, but it wasn’t his cocky one. This smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sure you would’ve done the same thing.”

  “I’m sure I wouldn’t have.”

  He laughed a little. “Yeah, you would’ve. Motherly instinct and all that.” There was the cocky chauvinist I knew.

  I rolled my eyes, smiling as I walked over to the couch. Then I sat down next to him, placing my head on his shoulder. “I guess you’re right.”

  We sat there for a minute in silence until I said, “Thank you,” again. He had put his life on the line for me, and I had nothing but endless gratitude.

  However, instead of saying “you’re welcome,” he leaned over, giving me a gentle kiss on the lips.

  I didn’t move as he took my head in his hands, kissing me again. This time it was a little harder. My breath quickened, and my whole body tingled right down to my toes. Stag pushed my cardigan off my shoulders, and began to kiss me down the line of my neck. Then he grabbed hold of my waist, pulling me onto his lap.

  At that point, the only thing that was going through my mind was Mike. How he would feel if he came into the apartment and saw me straddling Stag. After that, I came back to reality, feeling Stag’s hands move under my skirt. And just as he was about to touch a very sensitive area, I bolted off him.

  “No,” I almost yelled, shaking my head. “We can’t do this.”

  He looked down at his lap. “You didn’t do anythin’. I did. So don’t beat yourself up about it.”

  “I am just a guilty as you are. After all, I didn’t stop you from making a move.”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “True. But you didn’t kiss me back either.”

  “Elliot—”

  He raised his hand, interrupting me. Then he looked up, his face very serious. “I know, Patricia. You have feelings for Mike. I get that. But here’s the thing, I really like you. You’re smart and surprisingly sexy. You don’t care about what other people think, and you’re an all-around nice person.” I didn’t know about that last part, but I let him continue.

  “You see,” he breathed, “I’ve never felt this way about a woman before. And I don’t see what’s so wrong with me showin’ you how much I like ya. I just don’t.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t,” I said softly.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, standing.

  “You’re Elliot ‘the Stag’ Sagmore,” I explained. “You have one night stands. I’m sure you don’t have a girlfriend for more than two days at a time, and you don’t mind cheating on women or with other women, for that matter!” The elevator ride came back to me, and I shook my head. “The point is, you don’t understand what it’s like to be with anyone but yourself. So of course you wouldn’t recognize how wrong it is to feel something for someone other than the person you’re with, because you have never been in a real relationship.”

  “You feel somethin’ for me?” he asked with a slight smile. Of course, that would be the only thing he got out of my speech.

  “That’s beside the point,” I yelled. “God, you are so frustrating.” I sat on the chair by the coffee table with a huff.

  Stag knelt in front of me, putting his hands on my knees. “Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad, Pat. It’s just that I want you so bad. I want you to be with me, not with Mike.” I opened my mouth to say something, but he placed his finger over my lips. “But I can see that you’re feelings for him are stronger than you let on. So I’ll back off a bit. I’m not promisin’ that I’ll back off entirely, but for right now, I’ll give you some space.”

  “I guess that’s all I can ask for,” I said when he took his finger away.

  He smiled, getting up off his knees and walking over to the couch to sit again. That was my cue to go take a shower and get ready for bed. I let the hot water run down my back, breathing in the steam. There were bruises forming on my rib cage, and I couldn’t help but feel frustrated. When was this Samuel-trying-to-kill-me stuff going to end? I started to hope that it would be sooner rather than later.

  I was under the hot water for at least ten minutes wh
en I decided that I was good and clean. So I stepped out of the heat and into the cool bathroom. Suddenly, I felt dizzy and nauseous. I grabbed a towel off the rack by the shower, wrapped it around me, and sat on the toilet, putting my head down between my legs.

  Taking some deep breaths, I started to feel better. But when I tried to stand, I fell to the floor with a thud.

  There was a panicked knock on the door, and Stag’s voice came from the other side. “Are you okay in there, Pat?” he asked, and I shook my head. I knew he couldn’t see it, but I didn’t want to talk, I was so queasy.

  “Pat,” he said my name almost frantically. “Pat, unlock the door.” I reached up and unlocked it without thinking.

  He slammed his way into the bathroom, and when I looked up at him the world started to swim around me. “Jesus, Pat. You don’t look too good.”

  I took a deep breath, trying not to throw up. “I don’t feel too good.”

  “Come on,” he said, leaning down and picking me up off the floor. “Let’s get you into bed.” I didn’t protest as he took me into the bedroom, placing me down in the mattress in a wet towel. Normally, I would have been furious, but now, I was just grateful that he was in the apartment with me. If he hadn’t been there, I don’t know what I would have done.

  Stag placed the back of his hand on my forehead. “You’re warmer than normal. Let’s get you outta that wet towel and into some warm clothes.”

  “I can do it,” I slurred. The nausea washed over me for a second, and then subsided.

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so, girly. You’re lookin’ paler than usual, and that’s sayin’ something. I don’t want you to faint on me. So you just tell me where you keep your pajamas and I’ll get them for you.”

  I pointed to the small dresser by the closet, and he rummaged through the drawers, finding me a pair of flannels and a long-sleeved nightshirt. “Is your underwear in here, too?” he asked, and I nodded. “Which drawer?”

  “Bottom,” I said, closing my eyes as the room started to go wonky again.