Beneath a Blood Moon

by RJ Blain

  “That’s right. Come. Who muzzles a poor dog and leaves it loose this time of year? Bastards.”

  I drew in a deep breath to catch the man’s scent.

  There was something not-quite-human about him. I recoiled, but before I could make my escape, he lunged forward, grabbing hold of my scruff. I yipped and cringed, scrambling to find purchase against the asphalt.

  “Ha! Easy,” he crowed, pulling me to him. “That’s a girl.”

  I warbled a protest at having been tricked and struggled in his grip. He secured his hold on me, circling his other arm under my hindquarters to pick me up. Snapping my teeth drew a laugh out of him.

  “Not very effective when you’re muzzled.”

  I yowled, clawing at him in my effort to buy my freedom. Still chuckling, he nudged the door open with his toe, sat behind the wheel, and set me on his lap. Reaching to the center console, he pressed a button.

  On the third ring, a tired voice answered, “Desmond.”

  “Got a present for you,” my captor said, a snicker escaping him.

  I ceased struggling and stared at the navigation panel. With my mate for company and loping wild and free, I hadn’t put much thought into human matters—or the pack I had flitted in and out of. Sanders had been the only company I needed or wanted.

  My wolf, however, remembered the warmth of Desmond’s affection, and she relaxed at the sound his voice.

  “What sort of present?” my Alpha asked warily.

  “Two presents, actually.” While he didn’t loosen his grip on my scruff, he stroked his other hand down my back. “I’ll give them to you for a very nice price. Your approval of my successful theft of your daughter should be sufficient.”

  “Don’t you have anything better to do? I’m really not in the mood, Puppy.”

  “You will be in less than five minutes,” was my captor’s smug reply.

  “I find that difficult to believe.”

  “Is Wendy with you?”

  “She is.”

  “Ask her to call your most beautiful and charming daughter.”

  “Both of my daughters are charming and beautiful. I assume you mean the daughter you stole from me, Thief. Wendy, the mangey mutt wants you to call Nicolina,” Desmond said, his voice muffled. “Put it on speaker. I’m putting you on speaker, Richard.”

  “Hello, Richard,” Wendy said. “Ignore Charles’s griping. He’s been grouchy all week.”

  “I know. That Sanders is a pretty slick bastard, isn’t he?”

  I heard infuriated howls on the other end of the line, calls I recognized as belonging to my mate. I thrashed, drew a deep breath, and yowled at the navigation panel. Sanders answered with snarls and a bark of warning.

  Richard shook me by the scruff, and whining, I quieted.

  “You caught him?” Desmond demanded. “Where are you?”

  “Hello, Father. We grabbed him in the Cascades. Richard and I found him while he was hunting. It took both of us, but we brought him down without getting too mauled in the process. He broke my wrist, the bastard. Don’t worry, it healed when I changed. He’s in a silver cage and won’t be going anywhere,” the woman reported in a tone as smug as Richard’s. “Amber’s trying to do something for him, but he’s just too riled up. We haven’t been able to calm him down, not even with wolfsbane. He’s burning it off as fast as we hit him with it, and we’re hesitant to dose him again.”

  “Give me the address,” Desmond ordered.

  “I think once I bring the second present, he’ll be a lot easier to contain. Found a little bitch wearing a leather and silver collar and a muzzle along the road where we tagged Sanders. She’s carrying his scent, and unless my nose is lying to me, she’s carrying a lot more than that.”

  My mate snarled, and I heard the rattle of metal on metal. A pained yip on the other end of the line forced a whine out of me.

  “Little white wolf?”

  “Complete with red paws and a cute little black stripe down her back, just like Sanders’s,” my captor confirmed. “Poor bitch is probably starving. Looks like Sanders managed to bend the cage and loosen the leather a bit for her, but there’s no way she can hunt like this. We’ve had Sanders for almost twelve hours. I didn’t call you because I wanted to find his bitch first. I’m going to take her to Nicolina and see if I can get him calmed down with her there.”

  “Give me the address, and I’ll get Dustin to come as soon as he can. He’s a water witch, so maybe he can help if we need it, Amber.”

  “I’m never going to hear the end of this, but help would be appreciated,” another woman replied. “Sanders’s mad and frothing from the mouth. He’s not run completely wild yet, but he’s got zero control, and he’s too damned dominant for me to deal with alone. He’s about as bad as Richard.”

  “Hey,” my captor complained. “I am not that bad.”

  “Yes, you are,” a chorus of voices replied.

  Richard’s scent soured with his annoyance. “Thanks. You all just go ahead and gang up on me. I see how this is. You planned this, didn’t you, Nicolina?”

  “That’s what you get for taking my car and leaving me to deal with Sanders.”

  “You can zap him. I can’t.”

  “You can dominate him, which would be a lot more effective right now. Sure, I can zap him, but he’ll wake up even madder than he is now. I could also hurt or kill him, and you know it. What good does that do us?”

  “Puppies,” Desmond complained. “Could you save your bickering for later? Richard, what’s the bitch doing?”

  I bared my fangs.

  “Showing me her pretty pearly teeth, struggling a bit here and there, but otherwise, she’s pretty calm. I think she’s exhausted, considering when I first spotted her, she was dragging her paws in a fairly wobbly walk. No wonder, if she’s been muzzled for two weeks.”

  “Give or take a few days. Sorry, Nicolina. I can’t do anything from a distance, but once I’m with Sanders, I can rein him in. If that little bitch is his new mate, she’ll make it easier.”

  “I know Sanders’s scent, Old Man. I’m certain. It’s pretty strong.”

  “Think you can subjugate her and force her to change?”

  “Desmond, she’s pregnant. I’m not forcing her to change without a damned good witch nearby to watch. No way. I don’t know how far along she is, and I’m not killing a puppy being stupid,” Richard snarled.

  “You’re certain?”

  “What kind of stupid question is that?” Rage added a bite to my captor’s scent, and I whined at the strength of it. “Yes, I’m certain. If I weren’t, I wouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Charles, Richard. That’s enough,” Wendy scolded. “I apologize, Richard. Charles is upset because we were responsible for Sara. While we still feel Sanders in the pack bonds, she’s gone.”

  My mate howled his fury at the mention of my name.

  “Sanders, will you please just shut up?” Nicolina shrieked. “So help me, I will jolt you.”

  “Sara’s the girl he met in Vegas?” Richard asked. Once again, my mate howled at my name.

  “The same.”

  “How long were they mated?”

  “About a month before their limousine was hit,” Desmond reported.

  Richard released my scruff, turned me on his lap, and lifted my head by grabbing the cage surrounding my muzzle. “Eye color?”

  “Hers? Green hazel,” Desmond replied. “Why?”

  “Well, unless Sanders has a fetish for finding bitches with unusual eye colors, I’d say the little lady on my lap is probably your missing Sara.”

  “Sara’s an Omega,” my Alpha growled.

  “Oh, ho. You sneaky little devil, Sanders. Where the hell did you find yourself an Omega? She’s a pretty wolf, too. A good match for you,” Richard complimented. “Don’t you give my mate any trouble over there, Sanders. Keep your jaws shut before she really jolts you like she means it. It hurts. I know. Trust me, I know. I’ll bring your bitch to you within t
he next couple of hours, so you behave.”

  “Richard,” Nicolina snarled.

  My mate, however, did fall quiet at Richard’s command.

  “You really think it’s her?” Wendy whispered.

  Richard prodded my ribs. “Are you Sara, Lady Wolf?”

  I turned my ears back, considering him with narrowed eyes. Lifting my head, I huffed and glanced to the side.

  “I’m getting the silent treatment.”

  “You probably did something to deserve it, Richard,” Nicolina snapped.

  “Okay, so I called her a boy and tricked her so I could get close enough to grab her without having to chase her all over the mountain,” he admitted. “I even drove by her the first pass and came up behind her to make it look like I was some guy with a guilty conscious.”

  Nicolina snickered. “You are some guy with a guilty conscious.”

  “You’re not funny.”

  “Where are you?” Desmond demanded.

  “About three hours from your house, Desmond. Nicolina’s holed up in Sanders’s lodge near Snoqualmie Pass. We broke in after we found him, figuring it might help if he can smell his pack.”

  “He was headed home?” Disbelief softened Desmond’s voice.

  “Sure seems like it. Get your witch to his lodge. I’ll meet you there,” Richard said, hanging up with a press of a button. “I’m going to get the pad out of the trunk, set it on the seat so you don’t have to ride on my lap the entire way to your mate, and take you home. Since I’m such a gentleman, we’ll stop for some fast food first. You must be starving.”

  Richard clipped a leash to my collar and let me wander near him while he dug through his trunk. In addition to the thick leather pad he placed on the passenger seat, he pulled out a blanket and made a nest of it before picking me up and settling me on it.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you, Sara. Takes a lot to rattle Desmond, and between Sanders running wild and his belief you had either bit a silver bullet or had been snatched without a trace, he’s been a living nightmare. I’m Yellowknife’s Alpha, Richard Murphy. My mate is Desmond’s eldest daughter.” Once I was settled on the seat, he examined the muzzle and collar. “If you promise not to chew holes in me or run, I’ll take those off.”

  I bobbed my head.

  While Richard hissed through the process of unbuckling the muzzle, the only evidence of his handling silver was a faint discoloration on his fingertips. “No wonder he couldn’t get it off you. That’s a nasty little collar and muzzle set.”

  Opening the glove box, he stuffed the offensive items inside. A gun waited in the compartment. I stared at it with wide eyes.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to use it on you. This is my mate’s car, and I insist she goes everywhere with it. She gets into almost as much trouble as you do.”

  I turned my ears back, remembering Desmond mentioning something about his daughter finding trouble—or it finding her. I wasn’t sure which.

  Once satisfied, Richard started his car and headed up into the mountains, driving at a sedate pace. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get back to your mate,” he promised.

  Whether lost in thought or an inherently quiet person, Richard fell silent, all of his attention focused on the road. The rage I had scented on him earlier faded, and I took deep breaths so I could identify him later. There were two distinct smells, which puzzled both me and my wolf. One I was able to pinpoint as his, but another clung to him, a brisk, spiced scent warning my wolf away.

  We reached a town large enough for a Walmart. While it was open, its parking lot was all but deserted. Whether he didn’t want to take a chance with his car—or risk someone seeing me—he parked on the far side of the lot. “Stay here,” he ordered. “I’ll be back in five or ten minutes. There are a few things I need to pick up.”

  The weight of command slammed into me, frightening my wolf enough she retreated. I whined and burrowed into the blanket, twisting my ears back. Satisfied with my reaction, Richard locked me in his car. My wolf was terrified of the Alpha, and I didn’t understand what bothered her. I nosed at my belly; it wasn’t long after the full moon, but its call no longer held any sway over me. Ten minutes was enough time to change, if my wolf helped.

  I couldn’t afford to stay a wolf much longer, not if I wanted to protect Sanders’s puppy—our puppy.

  There was no hesitation on my wolf’s part. After digging my way under the blanket, I tensed for the pain of transforming.

  I was shaking in the aftermaths of the transformation, panting to catch my breath, when Richard made it back to the car. I had managed to wrap myself in the blanket, although the material scratched my raw skin. Yanking open my door, he crouched in front of me, one hand touching my throat. He ducked his head close to me, his nose flaring as he breathed in my scent.

  “No bleeding?” he demanded, sniffing again as though distrusting his sense of smell.

  I shook my head.

  Relief eased the scent of his anxiety. He settled back on his heels to stare at me with a faint smile. I had to admit he was good looking, in a sun-bathed, beach boy sort of way—a way I didn’t like all that much.

  Maybe other women liked his sort of surfer perfection, but he’d never hold a candle to my Sanders.

  “The idea of waiting for a witch was to make sure there were no problems with the puppy,” Richard scolded. Picking up the things he had dropped beside the car, he set a McDonald’s bag on my lap. “At least having hands will make eating those easier. Eat them all; you need it. Had I known you were going to just go and change back to human, I would have gotten more.”

  I worked an arm out from under the blanket so I could peek into the bag. There were at least ten burgers inside, and I sighed in resignation. Grabbing one, I set it on my lap, unwrapped it without bothering to free my other arm, and nibbled on it.

  It tasted terrible. I almost wished I were still a wolf so I could express my disgust better.

  Richard chuckled and started the car. “Best I could do, sorry.” Pressing a button on the steering wheel, he said, “Call Desmond.”

  “What is it, Richard?” my Alpha answered.

  “When your daughter realizes I’ve been alone in a car with a naked woman who belongs on the cover of a magazine, she’s going to murder me. I hope this makes you happy.”

  “She changed?” Desmond replied.

  “I was in Walmart picking up a few things to take to the lodge. Came back to a dark-haired, green-eyed woman instead of a wolf.”

  “Sara?” The hope in Desmond’s voice hurt.

  The thought of speaking made my dry throat hurt, so I grunted and took another bite of my burger.

  “She’s not very impressed with my offerings,” Richard admitted, his deep voice purring in his throat and chest. “She’s been human for maybe a few minutes. Give her some time to remember English, Desmond. Before you ask, she seems fine. No bleeding.”

  “Good. Don’t you even think of crashing that Porsche, Richard. I will hunt you down and beat you.”

  Richard snorted. “I’ll try to avoid it.”

  “You corrupted my daughter with your love of those death traps. Don’t you even think of infecting Sara.”

  “I did no such thing. Your daughter was trying to steal my Porsche and everything else I own from the day I met her. Don’t you go blaming that on me, Desmond.”

  “How far out are you?” Desmond demanded.

  “An hour and a half, maybe a bit longer depending on the roads. At least we haven’t had a lot of snow yet this year. I’m taking it slow to give her a chance for the edge to wear off. I wanted to ask you if you think I should call Nicolina so Sanders can hear Sara’s voice.”

  “Probably not wise. If his howling is any indication, he’ll lose it if he hears her voice and can’t get to her. I’ll call Nicolina and warn her to be ready to let the beast out of his cage so he doesn’t poison himself to death when he scents her. Considering they crossed the entirety of the United States without him t
urning on her, he won’t now. I’ll beat you there by a notable margin, so I’ll have some time to work with him.”

  Richard sighed. “I’m going to get flattened, aren’t I?”

  “A rival male near his mate? I’d say so. Don’t worry, Richard. If you’re really nice to me, I’ll protect you.”

  “Thanks, Desmond. Really appreciated.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I choked down three of the burgers before I couldn’t stomach the thought of another. Between the grease, the wretched taste of overcooked meat, and the excessive use of ketchup, I fought to keep the pitiable excuse for food where it belonged.

  Richard wouldn’t appreciate me throwing up in his mate’s car.

  “Eat,” he growled at me.

  “You eat it. It’s disgusting,” I replied, my voice hoarse and growly.

  Glancing at the clock, Richard made a satisfied noise. “Thirty minutes to get something out of you in English. That’s not bad at all. You really should eat. You can’t have eaten much while wearing that muzzle.”

  I bristled at the implication Sanders had neglected me, and for a long moment, all I could do was growl. “I ate.”

  “How?” Richard countered, snorting. “I took off the muzzle, remember. There was no way you could hunt or eat while wearing it.”

  “Sanders.”

  “What about him?”

  “He shredded our prey,” I replied, careful to keep my tone as neutral as possible.

  He’d only come close to shredding me once after I’d been caught; I had approached him too soon after one of his kills. It had taken me several days to recover from the gashes he had inflicted on me, though the wounds hadn’t hampered my ability to keep up with him as we had continued west.

  “He actually fed you?” Surprise altered Richard’s scent. “Maybe he’s not as far gone as I thought. He put up a hell of a fight when we found him, though.”

  “He was hunting,” I growled.

  Richard sucked in a breath. “For you. That explains a lot. He knew he had to get back to you with food or you and the puppy would starve. No wonder he’s been so much trouble. All I knew when I came down to help was that he was running wild and the last time anyone had seen Sanders, he had a bitch with him who had been muzzled and collared. When I saw him alone, I assumed something had happened which left him alone—not an unreasonable assumption, all things considered. Wild wolves aren’t exactly known for sanity.”