Beneath a Blood Moon

by RJ Blain

  Marcy laughed. “When Charles told me I’d probably like your new mate, Matthew, I never anticipated how lovely she could possibly be. Well done. It’s about time.”

  Sighing, my mate stared at his sister. “Mary was not as bad as you thought,” he replied, his body tense beside me. I freed my hand from the blanket and captured his wrist. I meant to tug gently, but my wolf had other plans. Before I was even aware of her interference, Sanders was sprawled on top of me, and my teeth were pressed to his throat.

  My wolf growled.

  “Sara, please don’t bite him too hard this time,” Desmond said.

  “Hellcat,” my mate muttered, though he remained still. Satisfied he wasn’t going to fight back, my wolf relinquished control. The feel of him on top of me tempted me; I brushed my lips against his throat.

  “Newly mated,” Desmond muttered. “I’m impressed they restrained themselves so long. Sara, Sanders, behave.”

  I pouted. “But he’s so nice, Desmond. Don’t be mean. I just wanted a nibble.”

  “You’d have a nibble, he’d completely lose his ability to concentrate on anything other than you, and then we’d never finish this discussion. We need to make plans. You two can play after we’ve decided what we’re doing and have reported to the Shadow Pope. Priorities.”

  “I was merely expressing my relief you have found a good woman,” Marcy said, and for the first time since meeting her, she kept her gaze lowered to the floor. “Mary hated us.”

  “Mary hated you?” I blurted, unable to imagine how anyone could hate Marcy or Rob. Rob had the same edge my mate and Desmond did, although there was something gentle and tame about him.

  “My sister is a fire witch.” Careful to avoid my teeth, Sanders freed himself from my hold to retake his seat on the arm of my chair. “She has a really good feel for people. Her dislike for Mary was fairly instantaneous.”

  “She cheated on you,” Marcy snarled, and the woman shook from her rage. “So many nights I tossed and turned, wishing I wasn’t a police commissioner’s wife and mate, just so I could go to Seattle and teach her a thing or two with my fists. You have no idea how many times I picked up the phone, called my son, and had to come up with some stupid story to hide the fact I wanted to send him out there to rearrange her guts.”

  Shock froze me from the inside, and I gaped at my mate and his sister.

  His Mary, the woman he had loved so much, had cheated on him? My wolf was so repulsed by the thought my stomach churned. I covered my mouth, swallowing convulsively. “No way.”

  Marcy sighed. “If only. I would have forgiven her anything other than that. I can’t even blame my stupid brother for falling for her, either. When she decided to be, she was very nice—except utterly incapable of respecting her husband. I’m sorry. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

  Sanders inhaled slow and deep, held his breath, and let it out in a long sigh. “It’s not like she was able to hide it from me, Marcy. I knew.”

  “I know you knew; I told you,” Marcy snapped.

  “I knew long before you told me.” Tapping the side of his nose, he stood, crossed the room, and bent down to kiss his sister on the forehead. “There’s no such thing as divorce among Fenerec, you know that. She wasn’t exactly smart or discreet about it. She didn’t even try to use perfumes to cover the scent of another man on her. I knew from the start.”

  “And yet you loved her,” was his sister’s bitter reply.

  “And yet I loved her.”

  I sucked in a breath, staring at Desmond. Rage anyone so lucky to have Sanders would dare even think of cheating on him burned me from the inside. The heat of my fury rose, fanned by my wolf. “That’s why you weren’t going to let him mate with a Normal again. Not because Mary was a Normal, but because she had cheated on him? Is that it?”

  Desmond’s eyebrows rose. “Could you cheat on him?”

  A shudder ran through me, and I shook my head so hard my hair whipped against my face. “Why would I want to?”

  “Mary’s side of the bond with Sanders was weak compared to his bond with her,” Desmond informed me in a cold tone. “It is not something I enjoy discussing.”

  “It’s okay,” my mate said, flopping onto the couch beside his sister. “Marcy here is so influenced by Rob she’s almost more Fenerec than she is witch. She can’t comprehend the thought of wanting any male other than Rob. Don’t be mistaken, though. Mary liked me well enough. She wasn’t faithful, but we partnered well in all other things.”

  “If she liked you, she wouldn’t have done that to you. I can’t believe you put up with that.” I growled, shocked and dismayed at the casual way he discussed his deceased mate—and how resigned he was to what she had done to him.

  “I didn’t exactly have much of a choice,” my mate replied, and when he smiled, I could tell it was a forced, fake thing.

  The amber in his eyes was as cold as stone and equally lifeless.

  “Only death breaks a mating bond—or a determined sorcerer,” Desmond acknowledged. “But even a sorcerer can’t come between a true pairing, now can he?”

  “Absolutely not. Their bond reforged the instant they touched each other—and a good thing, too,” Wendy muttered. “I am—”

  “He did not break our bond,” I snarled, fury at the thought giving my words a sharper edge than I intended. “He tried. He failed. Sanders is mine.”

  “No one is questioning your bond with him,” Desmond soothed. “If that sorcerer didn’t break it, he smothered it enough Sanders believed you were dead.”

  “Okay, enough,” Rob growled, slapping his open hand onto the coffee table. I jumped at the sound. “Let’s not end the day with a brawl. It’s over and done with, and I see no need to smear Mary’s name in the mud more than necessary. What we need to do now is figure out how to put an end to this bullshit and catch the water witch who was partnered with the sorcerer.”

  “And find out who is after Sara,” my mate added, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Rob nodded. “That will be easier than locating the witch. We find out where and when they wanted her delivered, we show up with her, and we lure them out. It’s a common enough Inquisition operation. Go with the standard protocol; send Sara on her own to the airport near the meeting point and see if anyone shows up. Tag them, bag them, and done. If no one shows up at the airport, show up where they wanted her delivered and see who comes to claim her. Tag and bag. Once that’s cleaned up, we can focus on the water witch. We have the woman’s description, although it’ll likely do us little good if she decides to use a glamor. She will, if she’s smart.”

  “I’m not sending Sara alone anywhere,” Sanders snarled.

  “You’ll have to, Sanders. It’s one direct flight. Short of a plane crash, there’ll be no danger. Security at the airport here is tight to begin with, and there will be enough Inquisitors in New York to guarantee she’s safer than the President of the United States when he’s traveling. If you’re with her, you may drive off our target. If we put an obvious guard on her, we may drive off our target. Let us do our job, Sanders.”

  I sighed at the anger in my mate’s eyes. “I’ll do it. If it means we can put an end to this mess, I’ll do it.”

  Rob chuckled. “Good. I’ll take care of the details, then. Sanders, why don’t you take your lady to bed so she can get some rest. I’ll inform His Eminence you’re busy taking care of your mate to spare you the conversation.”

  For a long moment, I thought Sanders was going to argue. He sighed, rose, and came to my chair. “I do not like this,” he stated, glaring at me.

  I held up my arms, widened my eyes, and pouted.

  He sighed again. “Okay. Rob, Marcy, I’m trusting you both with my mate. Don’t fuck this. Please don’t fuck this up.”

  “We’ll make her as safe as we can,” my mate’s sister promised.

  Chapter Fifteen

  In order for Rob’s plan to work, I had to fly solo to New York as the bait. Everyone else caught an ea
rlier flight, a charter hired by the Inquisition, to make sure they beat me to Newark International Airport.

  It turned out they could have driven to New York from Vegas and arrived first. Not long after my mate’s flight had taken off, mine was delayed and ultimately cancelled, leaving me stranded until the next morning. Instead of a non-stop to Newark as originally planned, I ended up with a flight to Chicago and a five hour layover.

  Even nature hated me. Storms in Chicago grounded all flights, stranding me along with hundreds of others waiting for a rebooking. At the rate I was going, I wouldn’t end up in New York until next week.

  To make matters worse, the charger for my cell phone was with my mate, along with the rest of my luggage, leaving me with only my purse for company. With all of the important numbers stored in my phone, I hadn’t bothered to memorize any of them, including my mate’s.

  The only phone number I had was for the Inquisition’s operator, who could connect me to the Shadow Pope. I sighed, and in a fit of depression, ate my way across the airport before working up the nerve to call from a payphone.

  I considered it a miracle the airport had any of the obsoleted devices left.

  On the third ring, the operator answered, “How may I connect your call?”

  At least what I had to say was written on the card with the number, so I dutifully replied, “Topside. I’m Sara Madison, Seattle’s Alpha female.”

  I doubted I’d ever get used to referring to myself as an Alpha anything. I would have rather called myself Sanders’s mate. Titles, apparently, were important to the Inquisition.

  “Connecting.”

  “Good evening, Miss Madison,” the Shadow Pope answered. “What do you need?”

  “This is ridiculous, but Sanders has my phone’s charger. It’s dead, I’m stuck in Chicago, and probably will be for the next two bleeping days, and I don’t know his number.” I swallowed, wincing at the whining tone of my voice.

  The Shadow Pope laughed. “I will give you his number and see about making arrangements for you to get to New York without having to wait two bleeping days. Do you have something to write with?”

  “I stole some pens and paper in Vegas,” I confessed, digging my purloined goods out of my purse.

  He told my mate’s number, followed by Desmond’s number. “I was already aware of your flight woes and have been tracking your progress. Your mate is also aware of your situation, although I’m afraid his vocabulary currently consists of monosyllabic words, growls, and curses. You can buy a charger for your cell phone at Gates B and H within the airport. Find a charging station and give him a call. I will text your phone with your new booking information and other instructions. While you may be bored, do not leave the airport and remain within after-security locations. No wandering. Depending on how long it takes to get you booked into a new flight, I may assign a guard to you.”

  I sighed. “Understood, sir. Thank you.”

  “A pleasure, Sara. Do reassure Matthew that a delay at the airport is not actually the end of the world.”

  The Shadow Pope hung up, and I returned the phone to its hook, sighed, and went off in search of a store selling chargers for my cell phones. I found one halfway across the airport. Muttering curses at the cost, I bought it, stomped my way to a charging station, sat down, and plugged my cell in.

  It took less than a minute for my phone to ring, and the display informed me the caller was Desmond. I swiped my finger across the screen as I’d been shown, and careful of the cord, I answered, “Hello?”

  “Ah, there you are. Finally figured out where to get a charger for your phone?” Desmond asked.

  I flushed. “I had to call Topside,” I mumbled.

  He laughed. “Inevitable, I’m certain. You’re all right?”

  “I’m fine. Stuck in Chicago.”

  “So we’ve heard. No problems? No weirdos following you around? Anyone hitting on you?”

  In the background, I heard my mate growl. My wolf, pleased by his jealousy, urged me to tease him. “Oh, yes. Every other minute, there’s some handsome man who comes by. So many men, so little time,” I taunted.

  “I’m going to assume that is payback for putting you on a commercial flight,” Desmond replied.

  “Did he hear me?” I demanded.

  “He’s whining, so I assume the answer is yes. We dosed him with a small amount of your favorite cocktail. I’m going to put you on the phone with Joe so I can keep an eye on your mate.”

  I tensed, and my wolf struggled against my hold on her. While I also wanted to growl, an airport wasn’t an appropriate place. “Okay,” I grumbled.

  Why Joseph disliked me so much was a mystery, but the feeling was mutual. My wolf wanted to be a part of our mate’s pack, but the instant we had joined it—both times—I was aware of their distrust and dislike of me as a cold, creeping sensation down my spine.

  “Hello, Sara,” Joe said, his tone emotionless.

  The sense of being loathed intensified. Determined to be polite to my mate’s Second, I replied, “Hello, Mr. Simons. Is Sanders okay?”

  Joseph growled. “He would be, if it weren’t for you.”

  In the background, Desmond cleared his throat.

  There were so many things I wanted to say, ranging from snarling curses at him to begging for a reason he hated me so much. Instead of speaking a word, I hung up. My hands shook from my fury and dismay. It took me two tries to press the power button and turn off the wretched device.

  I gripped it so hard the screen cracked and broke into countless pieces, its metal case warped. I wanted to hurl it across the terminal, but instead, I found a trash can and dumped the damned thing in it.

  New York represented everything I hated in my life, but if I wanted to be with my mate, I had to go there. Before Sanders had stormed into my life, I had made my choices, and I had suffered through the consequences. Then he had showed up, watching me dance and making me want him. When my wolf had come along, she had wanted him, too.

  He was everything I thought I wanted in a man. I could even live with his memory of Mary haunting me. We were two different people.

  Both my wolf and I had believed pack meant friends and family. We were wrong. Our mate wanted us, but no one else in the pack did, and I didn’t know how to break free of the chains binding me to them. Maybe my wolf desired a pack, but I didn’t, not if it meant living with their dislike of me all the time.

  Could I still be Sanders’s mate without having to be in his pack?

  When I got to New York, I’d find out. If Seattle’s pack didn’t want me, maybe I could find one who did, for the sake of my lonely wolf.

  With my phone broken, it was up to me to make my way to New York. Armed with the cash I had earned from my tips and from my first night with my mate, I headed to the ticketing counters.

  If I wanted to reach New York without waiting for two or three days, I needed to go to Fort Wayne. Buying a bus ticket, I ignored the Shadow Pope’s decree to remain within the security-cleared areas of the airport, went to the nearest cab station, and got a lift to the bus terminal.

  Five hours after leaving Chicago, I arrived in Fort Wayne and caught another cab to the airport, hitting the ticket counter to purchase my fare before breezing through security to catch my flight to Charlotte, which would then route me to LaGuardia in New York.

  I made it with five minutes to spare, and with a triumphant humph, I took my seat.

  In five hours, I would be in New York. I would hunt down my mate’s hotel and demand to be released from the hell of being in his pack. My wolf despaired, but she didn’t fight me.

  She could feel the chill of the pack’s regard, smothering what little I could sense from my mate. How long would we last until their hatred overwhelmed our bond and broke it? How long could I last without crumbling beneath the weight of their anger, frustration, and loathing?

  If Seattle’s pack didn’t want me and my wolf, I’d find one that did.

  I wondered if it would have
been better for everyone if the boss had taken me to New York as he had planned and sold me off to the highest bidder. I clenched my hands into fists, staring out the window. Whoever had wanted me knew what I was. What I didn’t know was how he knew or why I mattered to him.

  No matter what I decided, I couldn’t afford to hide behind Sanders and Desmond any longer. If I was going to survive in a world where the supernatural were real, I needed to stand on my own.

  My wolf despaired at the idea of being alone, without other wolves wanting her to be a part of their pack. While her desire for Sanders lingered, the driving need for him crumbled under the constant pressure from the pack.

  I would be my wolf’s pack, if need be.

  For a moment, she was startled, and then the warmth of her affection washed through me. If Seattle’s wolves didn’t want us, we would survive, somehow.

  The layover in Charlotte lasted all of ten minutes before I boarded for the final stretch of my trip. The flight was delayed while the plane waited to taxi, but twenty minutes after our original departure time, I was in the air.

  I sighed my relief.

  “You’d think they would have the hang of things by now,” my seat mate grumbled. She was easily old enough to be my grandmother if not my great-grandmother. I had no idea how she got knitting needles through security, but she worked with her yarn.

  “No kidding,” I replied, watching her fingers move with enviable agility. Row by row, the blue and green yarn started to take the shape of a scarf featuring an intricately braided center. “That’s pretty cool.”

  “Why thank you, dearie.”

  I went back to watching the ground drop away as the plane gained elevation. When we rose above the clouds, I wrinkled my nose. A smart woman would have rejected the idea of going to New York. A wise woman would have learned more about what it meant to be pack before agreeing to join one. An independent woman would have said no when asked to join a second time, knowing nothing but dislike and hatred waited for her.

  I’d find a way to make Sanders mine without dealing with his pack at all. If there was a way, I’d find it.