Beneath a Blood Moon

by RJ Blain

  “You may change your mind in the spring when he’s home long enough to sleep before coming back to work,” Wendy warned.

  “Maybe I’ll come with him and help. I can find some way to be of use.”

  Desmond chuckled. “You could finish your schooling and focus your studies on handling his business affairs for him. Make him a fortune with his business. It certainly has the potential. He earns enough you could get a good start with investments. He’d be a very rich man if he had a bit more business sense. Mary was too busy with her career to help him with his, not that she was very interested in, as you like saying, gardening.”

  “I might just look into that,” I replied, following after my mate. Sliding through the door, I hesitated at the unexpected heat and humidity. My mate prowled through the rows of plants, an astonishing number of them roses. “I thought he wasn’t an expert in shrubberies,” I muttered, admiring the pristine blooms of the flowers.

  “He’s a sly old wolf and is good at misleading friends and enemies alike.” Desmond nudged me deeper into the greenhouse. “The fish are in the back, and I bet that’s what he’s going to check on first.”

  Sanders headed to a door on the far side of the greenhouse and disappeared through it. Laughing, I followed. “He really likes his greenhouse, doesn’t he?”

  Smiling at me, Desmond held the door for Wendy and me. “Third only to you and the pack. First when he’s caught up in the moment.”

  I forced myself to smile. While the sense of hatred and dislike had faded, the thought of Seattle’s pack bothered me. Maybe they didn’t feel quite so much like enemies, but I lacked the sense of friendship and family my mate expected and enjoyed for himself.

  Maybe one day the idea of being a part of a pack wouldn’t burn like a raw, open wound.

  “If you wanted to make him really happy, maybe ask him about an aquarium once you’re settled. Just not salmon,” Desmond teased, winking at me. “He’d fear for the poor thing’s life.”

  “He’d save money feeding her if he raised them himself,” Wendy pointed out, slipping by me to peer into one of the water-filled wooden tanks arranged rows through the building. I joined her. Koi swam in crystal clear water among waterlilies.

  “Pretty,” I said, admiring one of the blooming flowers. “This is where he keeps all of his fish?”

  “There are several large ponds in the back with the larger fish.”

  I frowned, staring at the fish, some of which were as long as my forearm. “But these are large.”

  “The ones outside are notably larger, I assure you. Won’t surprise me if these are headed to the ponds soon, though. They’re getting big for their tank.” Desmond made a thoughtful noise, pointing at one of the pale fish. “Wendy, I like that one.”

  “No, Charles.”

  “But Wendy…”

  “You had a chance to get that one when it hatched. Behave. We are not here to buy more fish.”

  “Those are already sold and waiting for spring, Desmond. You can’t have them,” my mate called out from the other side of the building. Shaking his head, he came to join us. “The owner’s having his pond installed in the early spring but wanted to pick his fish in the late fall.”

  Desmond scowled. “My fish need new friends.”

  “Your fish are spoiled rotten and have plenty of friends. If you want new friends, you need a bigger pond, Desmond. We’ve been over this before. No new pond, no new fish.”

  “I could install a second—”

  “Absolutely not, Charles,” Wendy snarled.

  “A small one? We can get the fountain and waterfall you want added with it. We have space in the back.” Turning to his mate, Desmond pouted. His expression, so much like a sad puppy, made me giggle.

  “Why is it every time we come here all you want is to make the pond bigger or add a new one?” Stomping her foot, Wendy turned her back to her mate and stalked through the aisles between the wooden, black-lined tanks. She paused at one of them. “What are these, Sanders?”

  “I refuse to name the species. Sara might try to discover if they’re edible,” my mate replied, grinning at me.

  I joined Wendy, staring into the water. While I didn’t know much about fish, I recognized the species from the grocery store. “Rainbow trout? But they’re so tiny.”

  The largest of them was smaller than my hand.

  “They’re destined for a nice big breeding pond in the spring. A trout breeder had illness sweep through his ponds, which shared a filtration system. These fellows were in his fry tank. Once he has his ponds fixed, they’ll be going back where they belong.” Sanders leaned against the side, grinning at the fish. “Most of the fish in this building have already been purchased. Come to the back. I’ll show you some of the fish Desmond keeps trying to buy from me.”

  “One day,” Desmond swore.

  “If you get a bigger pond, I’ll consider it. Until you have a bigger pond, you aren’t buying one.”

  “Cruel.”

  “To you, but not to your fish,” my mate replied, heading down the aisle towards a door in the back. “You can have some plants if you really want something new for your pond. Assuming they haven’t died, I have some interesting species your koi will enjoy.”

  “You can have some new plants if they make pretty flowers,” Wendy conceded.

  “We could expand the pond just a little, don’t you think?” Desmond hurried after my mate, leaving Wendy and I to tail behind them.

  “This sounds like a routine conversation,” I said, grinning at Wendy.

  “It is, usually once or twice a month for the past ten years or so. I wouldn’t want to deprive Charles of his fun, and Sanders enjoys telling him no and getting away with it. Charles is obsessed, but he really does care for his fish. I think he enjoys having pets capable of living a long time.”

  “How long can they live?”

  “In some cases, up to two hundred years. Some of the first koi Sanders bred for us are still in our pond.” Smiling, Wendy held open the door for me. “They both have a soft spot in their hearts for those.”

  “That explains why he was so eager to see them at your house,” I murmured.

  “Exactly.”

  Behind the greenhouse were several ponds, one of which was so large I froze and gaped at it. “That’s a lake.”

  “Not quite,” Wendy replied, giggling at me. “Just don’t go fishing in it. A bunch of kids did once, killed a few of his prized fish, and when their parents got the bill for them, I thought there was going to be bloodshed.”

  I flinched. “How much was the bill?”

  “Fifty thousand dollars, give or take a few dollars.”

  Staggering to a halt, I gawked at Wendy, unable to close my mouth. Instead of the question I wanted to ask, a strangled croak emerged.

  “What are you filling her ears with now?” Desmond asked, joining us.

  “Fifty thousand dollars?” I whispered.

  “Oh, that.” Desmond clacked his teeth together. “They were old fish of unusual colors. They were priceless, so far as I’m concerned, but we had to set a price for them for the lawsuit. It was a pretty cut-and-dry case. Sanders has security cameras throughout this place and had video footage of the kids fishing for them and killing the koi. It didn’t hurt they were caught by police with the fish in their possession.”

  “What happened?” I asked. Desmond linked arms with Wendy, and we walked to the edge of the pond to join my mate.

  “The judge looked over the case and discussed the situation with a few experts on the subject. He determined the kids to be guilty. The kids ended up having to work for Sanders for the equivalent of a thousand hours each and their parents paid a hefty fine. They couldn’t afford the price of the fish, so Sanders suggested labor as compensation.” Desmond chuckled. “They got off far too lightly.”

  Turning to Desmond, my mate scowled. “You wouldn’t let me eat them.”

  “I considered it.”

  Wendy elbowed her mate.
“You did no such—”

  The crack of gunfire heralded the thud of something striking the ground near my feet. I jumped back, my throat tightening as my fear surged. A wolf growled, and moments later, the animal surged out of the trees lining the pond.

  Desmond yanked out out a bone-handled revolver from his jacket and fired once. The wolf tripped, rolled, and stopped moving.

  My mate spun on a heel, crouched, and broke into a sprint for the woods, so fast he was gone before I realized he had moved. Desmond gestured towards the greenhouses, and Wendy grabbed hold of my hand and ran for cover. I stumbled, caught myself, and followed.

  “This way,” she ordered, and instead of heading inside as I expected, she ducked around the corner into the narrow passage between the buildings. While I had only noticed five buildings from the parking lot, there were smaller sheds hidden between them, forming a maze.

  “What the hell?” I gasped out when Wendy came to a halt somewhere in the middle of the greenhouses. She held up her hand, peeking around the corner.

  “We’d just be in the way,” Desmond’s mate replied. “Charles worried something would happen, so both of them are armed with silver bullets. It seems he was right. It’s better if we lay low so they don’t have to worry about us getting hit.”

  I had a long list of reasons why I wanted to go back and help my mate, but rationally, I realized she was right. All I’d do was get in the way—or get hit in the crossfire. “Is there anything we can do?” I whispered, slinking up to Wendy’s side to join her in peering around the corner.

  The quiet was broken by short bursts of gunfire, and I flinched at the sound. Something crunched behind me, and sucking in a breath, I whirled around.

  I caught a glimpse of something metallic. Pain blossomed through my head, and I crumpled from the blow.

  Dazed from the blow to my head, I was aware I should struggle, but I couldn’t force my arms or legs to do anything other than twitch. Wendy howled her outrage until they bound her in leather and silver cuffs and gagged her. Once they—whoever they were—did, she growled in her throat, both a warning and a promise of what she’d do if she broke free.

  I couldn’t tell if they were confident or stupid, but they left us together. They blindfolded me as soon as they shoved us into the cab of a pickup truck. All I knew was that the sandy-haired man with the wavering voice was in charge, and they all reeked of Fenerec.

  “Two pregnant bitches,” the leader said, his tone bemused. “It’ll be a bloodbath when their mates wake up.”

  I echoed Wendy’s growl.

  “Good.”

  I focused on the male seated beside me, who sounded pleased at the idea. For a moment, I was grateful he had leaned me against Wendy. Then my fury rose as I realized what would happen if Sanders and Desmond rampaged.

  If they did, the Inquisition would deal with them, and they would likely use full lethal force. My wolf wanted nothing more than to sink her teeth into the soft flesh of our captors’ throats and tear out their jugulars.

  “I’m just glad the info was good. That could have gotten messy if there were extras,” the leader commented.

  I took slow, deep, and steady breaths, focusing all of my attention on the scents in the truck. From Wendy, I caught a faint hint of Desmond. Her fury stung my nose. There were at least three other males in the truck, and the reek of their satisfaction nauseated me.

  “The bitch you whacked is waking up,” the Fenerec beside me announced.

  “Good. I’ll only have to say this once. Ladies, if you behave, you’ll be well taken care of. There’s someone who wants to meet you. Don’t make a fuss, and I’ll be generous and allow you to keep each other company. Make a fuss, and I promise you when the full moon rises, you’ll be left entirely to your own devices. Do I need to tell you what that’ll mean for your puppies?”

  Wendy’s growling faded to a whine, and the scent of her rage twisted and soured to fear and dismay.

  “Be grateful we’re sparing your puppies. You bitches don’t deserve that much,” the Fenerec beside me growled. “Because of your lot, my brother’s dead.”

  “Enough, Ed. Your brother was an idiot and got himself killed. While I wouldn’t mind getting a front row seat to two dangerous Inquisitors biting silver bullets, the bitches are too valuable to waste on your need for revenge. Once their mates are out of the way, they’ll be ripe for the taking,” the leader snapped. “I’m sure there are males who won’t object to raising a puppy to get a bitch as lovely as these two.”

  While Wendy whimpered, my wolf’s fury crested, and my own rage joined with hers.

  No one other than Sanders would ever claim me or our puppy as his, not so long as I lived. I growled, low, long, and deep. If Wendy couldn’t fight them, I would.

  No one spoke, but my nose told me the truth. Maybe they had frightened Wendy, but my growls alarmed them. I savored the way their smug satisfaction broke, leaving behind nothing but fear and uncertainty in our kidnappers’ scents.

  No matter what their intentions were for our mates, our kidnappers were careful with both of us. After parking the truck at a marina, they herded us out. As soon as my feet touched the asphalt, I ripped the blindfold off and flung it at the sandy-haired man. He tilted his head aside to dodge it, his eyes narrowing. I bared my teeth at the leader, took hold of Wendy’s wrists, and unbuckled the cuffs.

  When the silver burned my fingers black and pain stabbed up my arms, I remained silent, dropping the cuffs at their feet. One of the blisters burst and bled, dripping red onto the black and silver. Once I was certain I had their attention, I snarled, “No.”

  With deliberate care, I removed Wendy’s gag and flung it in the leader’s direction.

  The males exchanged glances, and without a word, they guided us towards a yacht. It was a large one, a sailboat at least fifty feet long. Wendy clutched my arm, her dark eyes focused on my blackened hands. She didn’t say a word, but I could smell her anxiety.

  I considered jumping into the ocean with Wendy, but one of the Fenerec had a dart gun pointed at us. I tugged on Wendy and pulled her on board, snarling whenever one of the males drew too close.

  Maybe they saw my wolf in my eyes, because when I refused to let any of them get near Wendy, they kept their distance. The leader’s eyes narrowed, and they guided us deeper into the yacht with gestures and grunts.

  When we reached a door, he pointed at it. “You will share that cabin, ladies. Remember what I said. If you behave, we’ll help you through the full moon. Otherwise, you will lose your puppies. You’re losing your mates soon. In a few hours, they’ll wake up running wild. Think it through.”

  Wendy whimpered, tightening her hold on me.

  For a brief moment, I considered tearing into his hide, but he still had a gun. While I worried about my mate, I worried more for Wendy. No matter how much I wanted to change things, I couldn’t, but at least I could help Wendy.

  I couldn’t help Sanders.

  I jerked open the door, shoving my hip against Wendy to force her inside the cabin. I narrowed my eyes, looking over our kidnapper from head to toe. “You weren’t wolf enough to handle our mates without your pathetic guns. What makes you think you’ll be wolf enough to help us? If she loses her puppy, I will paint this ship with your blood.”

  “And what about your puppy?” he snapped.

  I bared my teeth at him and shut the door.

  If Desmond couldn’t keep Wendy safe from the moon’s call without help, no one could on their own. The sense of power I sometimes felt wafting from Sanders, Desmond, and Richard didn’t radiate from our captors. Instead of real strength, they relied on weapons.

  They wouldn’t be able to help Wendy.

  My wolf worried. Wendy was our Alpha’s female. Protecting her came before protecting ourselves—and our puppy. The thought of saving ourselves before her sickened my wolf, and I agreed with her.

  We couldn’t allow them to touch her. We would, somehow, figure out a way to keep her from s
hifting with the full moon. I snarled, long and low, staring at the door.

  “Who told them?” Wendy whispered, her eyes wide and face pale. She sank onto the cabin’s sole bed. “Who betrayed us?”

  My wolf’s rage ignited. There had been no Inquisitors at the greenhouse.

  “Someone in the pack,” I replied, the certainty of my suspicion fueling my fury. “Someone in the pack betrayed us.”

  When I found out who, I would sink my fangs into them, and I would rip them apart.

  “They’ve made a mistake,” Wendy whispered.

  “They think they’ll get away with this. That is their mistake.”

  Shaking her head, Wendy drew a deep breath, patting the bed beside her. “No. It’s an even worse mistake than that.”

  I joined her, looking around the room. In anticipation of housing prisoners, everything was bolted down and the window had been fitted with silver bars. “What mistake?”

  “Charles won’t run wild, and he won’t let Matthew, either. Richard’s nearby, as is Nicolina. Our mates are not so weak.”

  “They can’t hunt for us over water,” I pointed out. The boat lurched, and I growled my disgust as we sailed out of the marina. “What are these wolves after?”

  “Probably our mates. My guess is someone wants Seattle’s pack—someone in the pack wants to be Alpha, and they’re too weak to take over on their own. So how else to get rid of our mates? Force the Inquisition to do it for them. Then they can step in and take over. You, alone, were sufficient payment. Both of us? Irresistible,” Wendy replied, shaking with fury of her own. “They’ll likely try to subjugate us and steal us from our pack to torment our mates to drive them wild.”

  “Like hell they will,” I growled, cracking my knuckles one by one.

  More often than not, my wolf only nudged me, offering advice when she felt I needed it. She rarely took the initiative, preferring reaction to my action. Catching my attention by temporarily wresting control away from me, I felt her regard Wendy with worry and anxiety.

  She didn’t speak in words, not really. Intentions, emotions, and thoughts passed between us without the need for language.