Beneath a Blood Moon

by RJ Blain

  “Crap,” he muttered, holding his hands up in surrender. “Fine, I’m that bad. I can’t help it.”

  “You could, but you’re too stupid to.”

  Richard sighed, bowing his head. With a smirk, Desmond captured his son-in-law around the neck, yanking him close. “Ah, Richard. You lowered your guard at last.”

  “What do you want, Desmond?”

  “A simple Dad will suffice for the moment.”

  “You have a new puppy on the way. You don’t need me calling you any sort of disgustingly sweet name,” Yellowknife’s Alpha grumbled, although he made no efforts to pull away from Desmond. I watched with interest, as did Wendy. “I don’t know what wicked evil you pulled on my brother, but I’m not falling for it.”

  “I’ll forgive you for stealing my precious daughter out from under me if you do.”

  “So, Sara,” Wendy said, pointing at the papers still in my hands. “Charles started wailing in disbelief you outsmarted them, the big Alpha males they are. What did you do?”

  “We all deserve to go to our rooms for this oversight,” Nicolina stated. “Father, please stop harassing my mate. I’m sure one day he’ll call you something nice if you stop bothering him about it. Maybe.”

  “But I want him to call me something nice now,” Desmond complained.

  “It’s the puppies,” Wendy informed me. “Charles becomes obsessed with the perfect family image when there are puppies on the way, and it doesn’t matter whose. In the case of ours, it’ll wear off in eighteen or nineteen years. Sanders, please spare Sara from such idiocy.”

  “Puppy,” my mate cooed, shuffling to take his place next to me, hugging my legs.

  “So, what are the papers?” Wendy asked.

  “Phone records for Seattle’s pack—all phones, not just the Inquisition lines. They’re masked so I don’t know who placed which call, but they’re dated from when Desmond told the pack we had been found up to when we went to the greenhouse,” I explained. “I just thought since they did it on television, maybe it could be done. It was just a suggestion.”

  “So what are we looking for?” Wendy grabbed the papers, and I allowed her to take them. Shifting off of me and onto the arm of the chair, she flipped through them. “Nicolina was right. You have outsmarted us. It never crossed my mind to look for call records.”

  “They could have e-mailed,” Desmond grumbled, and with a long-suffering sigh, released Richard. “Rotten mangey thief.”

  “Your fault for having such a beautiful daughter,” Richard replied, stepping out of Desmond’s reach.

  “E-mail is too slow,” Sanders said. “How many sheets are there, Wendy?”

  Wendy flipped to the last page. “Two hundred and ten.”

  “Well, what are we waiting for? Someone find us some pens, split the stack, and let’s get to work. If there’s anything important in those pages, we’ll find it,” my mate growled, and his lust for the hunt burned bright in his eyes.

  Sanders went through every page, making notations beside numbers. While the acquisition of the phone records had been my idea, Wendy split the piles in such a way I didn’t get any of the sheets. I grumbled my complaints under my breath.

  “You’ll get them after we all have a chance with them,” my mate promised. “We all know the common numbers. I know our pack’s numbers. You’ll get a turn, don’t worry.”

  “Any New York numbers?” I asked.

  All of them stared at me as though I had grown a second head. Sighing, Nicolina pulled out her phone. “212, 347, 718, 917, and 929 are New York City area codes.” Pausing, she frowned at her phone before reading off the codes for the rest of the state.

  Sanders wrote the numbers down, and with a sigh of his own, he handed me a stack of the sheets. “Smart ass bitch. What are New Jersey’s area codes?”

  For such a small state, New Jersey had a lot of area codes, which Nicolina also read off.

  My wolf loved the way our mate’s scent sweetened with his affection and approval. Accepting the pages and a pen, I settled in to read through the numbers, setting aside the reference list for New York and New Jersey numbers.

  “She’s not a smart ass; we’re just complicating things unnecessarily,” Lisa said, shaking her head as she flipped through her pages. “Nothing from New York in my stack.”

  “None in mine either,” Nicolina reported.

  Desmond “Two calls to New York numbers here.”

  “One here,” Wendy said, lifting up a page.

  I took the pages with the New York numbers, setting them aside as I scanned through my portion of the records. Halfway through, I recognized a number. Sucking in a breath, I stared at the entry, my entire body chilling.

  My father had several phones, a mix of private and public numbers. The number I knew was a private line, connecting directly to his home office. When I left home, I had done my best to forget it so I wouldn’t be tempted to give up and crawl back to New York.

  “What’s wrong, Sara?” my mate demanded, gripping my knee.

  Anger, shame, and fear tore at me, and for a long moment, I considered lying so I wouldn’t have to face the fact I was truly the one responsible for what had happened. I sighed, circled the number, flipped the page over, and wrote down the address of the house I used to call home.

  Armed with my father’s phone number and address, Desmond called the Shadow Pope. He talked to the Inquisition’s leader in the adjacent bedroom, and his voice deepened with his anger. The acrid stench of his rage clogged my nose.

  “Care to enlighten us on what’s going on?” my mate asked, tugging on my knee.

  Leaning out of the bedroom, Desmond said, “Leave her alone. I’ll explain in a minute.”

  “It’s all my fault,” I mumbled, staring at the sheets still on my lap.

  “Sorry, sir. I’ll call you back.” Once he pocketed his phone, Desmond sat on the arm of my chair and took the pile of papers off my lap. With slow, deliberate motions, he rolled them up and smacked the back of my head with them. “You can’t accept the blame for the actions of others. It explains a lot, however. Fenerec are possessive when it comes to blood kin, especially when it comes to their offspring.”

  Richard and Alex winced, and Nicolina frowned, staring at her mate.

  “That number belongs to someone in your family?” my mate asked, his anxiety tainting his scent.

  “My father,” I admitted in a whisper.

  “I know this is going to be a difficult question for you, but why did you leave home, Sara?”

  I opened my mouth to reply, but instead of the words I meant to say, my throat clenched and I burst into tears. Dislodging Desmond from the arm of my chair, Sanders picked me up and slid beneath me.

  “Is this necessary?” my mate growled.

  “Alpha and dominant males are rather notorious for their overprotective, controlling tendencies,” Desmond stated, and with dignified grace, he sat on the couch, slipping between Richard and Nicolina. “All I want you to do is nod or shake your head, Sara. Was your father dictating everything you did?”

  Burying my face against Sanders’s chest, I forced myself to nod.

  “Was he always like that?”

  I shook my head.

  “Did your leaving have anything to do with your ex-boyfriend?”

  Admitting the truth hurt, especially when I worried I would hurt my mate with what had happened in the past. I hesitated, but after drawing several deep breaths, I nodded.

  “Bear with me. I’m thinking out loud. When we met you that first night, you were drugged with wolfsbane and ketamine. If your father is a Fenerec, particularly a dominant one, he would have made plans to take back what is rightfully his; in this case, you,” Desmond said, and I felt his stare on me. “A man as wealthy as I suspect your father is wouldn’t accept anything other than becoming the leader of his own pack. Your father may have seen an opportunity to lure you back with your ex-boyfriend, teaching him the ritual to claim you into his pack. However, if that
’s the case and your father had become a Fenerec, he wouldn’t permit just any Fenerec to court you. Your ex-boyfriend would have known he couldn’t have you, so why not get rid of you?”

  I flinched. Everything he said made a sickening amount of sense.

  “So, let’s assume your father wanted you for his pack, be it as a bargaining chip or simply to keep his flesh and blood close under his guard. He sends part of his pack—his rogue pack—to Las Vegas to capture you or turn you into a Fenerec. He likely sent his unmated males to attempt to solidify his hold on you. If he controls your mate, he controls you. Maybe he tells your ex-boyfriend he can’t have you. Maybe your ex-boyfriend simply didn’t want the competition.” Desmond growled, wrapped his arm around Nicolina, and pulled her to him. She squeaked, her eyes widening. “Daughters are precious.”

  Sighing, Richard propped his feet up on the coffee table. “No matter what I say, I will anger a Desmond. All Desmonds are dangerous when angry.”

  “You’re such a sweet talker,” Wendy said.

  “He’s a thief. Don’t compliment him,” Desmond muttered. After a sigh of his own, he continued, “For whatever reason, instead of obeying his Alpha, your ex defied him, attempting to kill you instead. He failed. But if your father wanted to take you alive for his pack, he would have made plans to capture you. That explains the drugs at your workplace. Maybe in his pride, he didn’t anticipate someone coming along with a higher offer, which led to your boss attempting to kidnap you when you went to quit. The gala would have been a perfect place for your father to put you on display. Drugged with wolfsbane, you would have been a beautiful puppet obedient to his every whim.”

  My mate tightened his hold on me, growling with his every breath.

  Desmond stretched his feet out beside Richard’s. “But that’s where things fall apart. You gave him the slip along with your mate. His contact within the Inquisition probably warned him you’d be protected. We called the pack to tell them you two are safe in Seattle. We made the mistake of letting a few in the pack know we were going to Sanders’s greenhouse. The word spreads to New York, giving him barely enough time to fly some Fenerec out to make a hit. We kill a couple of their pack before they drug us, expecting us to both run wild with our mates captured.”

  My mate’s growls intensified. Twisting around, I gently nipped his throat until he quieted. Sighing, I rested my head against his shoulder, wiping my eyes and sniffling.

  “Of course, it was a possibility. Fortunately, they underestimated Richard and Nicolina,” Desmond said, his voice quiet.

  Nicolina smiled and leaned against her father. “Once I talked sense into them, they were a force to be reckoned with. I pitied anyone in their way, right up until Mom showed up.”

  “It was a near thing at the greenhouse, though. When we arrived, they were both wolves and pretty aggressive. She zapped them,” Richard stated. “She said, and I quote, ‘I underestimated my strength. Oops.’ Desmond was out for twelve hours, and for a while there, I thought Sanders wasn’t going to wake up at all. He was out for two days, leaving me to try to figure out what happened to you.”

  “Oops,” Nicolina echoed, her smile growing into a broad grin.

  Grinning back at his mate, Richard continued, “Anyway, I made some phone calls and flew in Alex and Lisa as well as some others of my pack. I got into your security system at the greenhouse, nailed down a description of the truck, and located it at a marina. At that point, I called in Dustin. He had a talk with some of his shark friends. They love a good hunt as much as we Fenerec do, and he managed to impress upon them to eat any furry males but to help the pregnant females. Sharks are smart, and don’t ask me how, but apparently they can tell the difference between males and females—and pregnant females from other females. It actually helped Dustin’s your nephew, Sanders, as there are some similarities to your scent. Because Sara’s carrying your scent, it was easier for the sharks to locate her.”

  Desmond chuckled and grinned at me. “You surprised the hell out of all of us when you went and subjugated those two wolves, Sara. Through you, I got a good sense of the other pack. There’s not many left. Pity both of the ones you took died, because I wanted to question them.”

  “She thralled them,” Wendy said, rubbing my back from her perch on the arm of my chair. “The one in charge thought he could force those puppies to mate with her. She wasn’t having any of it. I suggested she subjugate them. At that point, she was out for blood and picked a fight with a wolf far larger than her. Dustin’s sharks ate all five of the Fenerec who took us—and a good thing, too, because she couldn’t beat a male so much larger than her.”

  I huffed, annoyed at my failure to defeat the sandy-haired Fenerec.

  Sighing, my mate took hold of my chin, lifted my head, and ran his thumbs across my cheeks. “If we prove your father is the one behind all of this, what do you want us to do?”

  Family, I remembered, mattered more to Fenerec than anything else. I should have cared about what happened to my father, and by extension, my mother. Realization settled in that I had finally embraced what I had been trying to convince myself of for so many years.

  The only family I had was the one I chose for myself. Smiling at my mate, I pressed my fingers to his mouth. “They hurt you. They tried to hurt Wendy and Desmond. They tried to hurt our puppy. I think a nice funeral is more than he deserves. Don’t bother bringing me his head, however. It’d make a mess I don’t want to have to clean up.”

  Chapter Thirty

  For over an hour, everyone tossed around ideas on how to deal with my father and find out if he was the one responsible for kidnapping Wendy and me. I listened, marveling at the casual way they discussed putting down an entire pack of rogue Fenerec.

  Their lust for revenge drowned out the other scents in the room, stinging my nose.

  Desmond’s phone rang, and with a sigh, he pulled it out and checked the screen, enabled speakerphone, and answered, “Desmond.”

  “You didn’t call me back,” the Shadow Pope complained.

  “Sorry, sir. We got ahead of ourselves a little,” my Alpha admitted. “Did you find out anything about Mr. Watson?”

  “Mr. Watson is selling one of his businesses, so I asked Liam to go have a sniff. He didn’t get close to Mr. Watson, but sure enough, the building stinks of Fenerec—if Mr. Watson isn’t one, someone near him is. Is Sara there?”

  “I am,” I said. “Who is Liam?”

  “New York’s Third. Good catch on the phone records, by the way. I’ve gathered a list of all of the Fenerec in your pack who have contacted phone numbers associated with Mr. Watson. You aren’t going to like what I’ve found, Sanders.”

  “Let’s not dance around the matter any. How many are involved? Who?” While there was no sign of my mate’s distress in his voice, he stank of it. At a loss for how to deal with his misery, I touched my fingers to his chin. He seized my fingers between his teeth, gentle but firm.

  “Eleven. One of them bothers me, however. All of them showed contact with Mr. Watson beginning immediately after you met your mate. This specific person ceased all contact with Mr. Watson after Sara attempted suicide. The others continued calls, with the most recent being about two hours ago. This one also ceased contact with the co-conspirators, leaving me to come to the conclusion this person is no longer involved.”

  “Who?”

  “Your Second.”

  Sanders grimaced. “Is Chrissy involved?”

  “No. None of your submissive Fenerec are involved.”

  “How many others close to the top?” Desmond demanded.

  “They’re all close to the top, Charles. To make matters worse, they were paid a lot of money. I had their financials pulled. I’m going to be very blunt. Setting up two Alpha females to be taken by a rival pack was crime enough, but once I add in the attempted murders of two unborn, several counts of kidnapping, and the attempted kidnapping of an Alpha, it’s a death sentence for all of them. The only one I might be able to
spare is Joseph; he didn’t receive any funds and ceased communications, although he was very likely in on the attempt to kidnap your mate. It’s only a might—it depends on what he has to say about the calls he received and placed.” The Shadow Pope sighed. “He’s already in custody being questioned. The others are under surveillance.”

  I clenched my teeth, and my rage burned at the intensity of my mate’s misery. Flexing my hands, I stood, marched to the couch, and sat on the arm next to Nicolina. “If we want to find out if my father is responsible for this, why don’t I just give him a call?”

  “Absolutely not,” my mate snarled.

  “Overprotective tendencies,” Desmond informed me, reaching over his daughter to pat my knee. “I believe I mentioned something about that being an Alpha trait. You, Mrs. Sanders, are not getting anywhere near your father. I have made that mistake once in my life, and I will never allow it to happen again.”

  Richard grimaced, and for the first time since I had met him, he lowered his eyes, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze, not even Wendy’s. Nicolina growled, opened her mouth, and shut it with a clack of her teeth.

  “What can he do to me on the phone?” I demanded. “Nothing. If it puts an end to this, I’ll talk to him. I don’t know what the rules of your Inquisition are, sir, but I’m not stupid. What’s killing so many of our pack going to do to Desmond and Sanders?” My throat tightened, and I couldn’t mask the bitterness in my voice. “It sounds like you’re punishing my mate far more than you’re punishing them. They’ll be dead. It’s not like they will be able to face any more consequences once you’ve killed them. Sure, they can’t do something so stupid again, but that’s where it ends. The only people who suffer are the victims. Where’s the justice in that?”

  A cold and deathly silence answered me.

  Turning to Nicolina, I held out my hand. “Your phone,” I demanded.

  She met my gaze, narrowed her eyes, and smiled a grim smile. Without a word, she handed me her cell.