by Sarra Cannon
There was a little cabin, a crackling fireplace, a bowl of untouched popcorn, and a couple of carefree lovers settled back on a thick rug, their legs intertwined. A cabin very much like his, with a fresh paint job, a neat stack of firewood, and a bow leaning in one corner of the porch.
There, the image seemed to be saying. That is where you must go.
Rae’s breath caught and he knew she saw it, too.
“But we’re already here,” he murmured.
“There’s place,” she said, letting her lips stroll over his cheek, “and there’s time.”
He replayed the winter scene in his mind. Maybe they did need a little time to find their rhythm together. With spring just breaking out across the desert now, that meant they were three seasons away from letting that scene play out in real time. Plenty of time to settle in together. Time to finish those projects on the house.
He felt Rae smile into his cheek, and her thoughts projected into his mind. Time to hunt.
To track, he added, with the coyote and wolf nodding along.
To love, Rae finished. To mate.
Epilogue
Three months, three new moons later…
Rae sat on the top porch step, watching the desert, waiting for her mate to come home.
Home. She breathed it all in, from the tiniest speck of yellow flower to the banded hills that showcased millions of years of Mother Earth’s hard labor. A good place for a hunter, with miles to roam on new moon nights and a ranch to help operate in the weeks in between. With a man she could call her mate.
Her heart bubbled as it always did when Zack appeared around the bend, his tall frame silhouetted against the blaze of the setting sun. If only she could see his face. Would it be etched with worry, or creased in a smile?
“So, how did it go?” she asked when her mate was three steps away.
He sighed and sat beside her, slinging an arm over her shoulders. “It went.”
She wrapped her hand around his thigh and snuggled in close. His warmth poured into her, as it always did when they touched.
“Well, what did they say?”
Zack snorted. “Doesn’t matter what they said. What mattered was what I said.”
She could picture it perfectly, her man standing up to the leaders of two packs: old Tyrone of Twin Moon Ranch and Roric of Westend pack, who’d come over from Nevada to sort out what Tyrone called “this mess.”
Would have been nice to see that in person, her wolf grinned.
She shrugged the thought away. Much as she’d tried to work up the nerve to attend the meeting in the council house, she just didn’t have it in her. She needed her energy for tonight’s hunt, and spending it listening to a couple of old geezers blow steam wouldn’t help.
She shivered and tugged Zack’s arm tighter around her, thinking how close she’d come to another kind of life. If she’d been Ty’s mate, she’d have been in for a lifetime of meetings, obligations, and compromises. If she’d have been Jed’s mate, she’d have been in for a lifetime of abuse. Either way, a lifetime of regret.
“Hey,” Zack murmured as she tensed. “You okay?”
She touched her forehead to his shoulder and breathed him in. “Okay.” She was more than okay. A lifetime of love and hope stretched before her.
She took a couple of deep breaths, processing her luck.
“So what did you say?” she finally prompted.
“Well, first Roric ranted about lost faith and broken contracts and pack alliances and a lot of other nonsense.”
She could picture that. Easily.
“Until I told him you’re not a clause in a contract or a puppet in some game,” Zack said, his voice rasping just a bit.
Her wolf swelled with pride, all but purring over her fine choice in a mate.
“And what did he do?”
Zack snorted. “He shut up.”
Now that, she would have liked to see. “What about old Tyrone?”
He chuckled. “You should have seen Ty stand him down.”
“How? What did Ty say?”
Zack threaded his fingers through hers. “Didn’t say anything. Just stared and stared until the old man grumbled and looked away.”
The stare, she could picture all too well. A good thing she’d never been on the receiving end of it. “And that was it?”
Zack nodded in satisfaction. “And that was it.”
She ran her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. Her mate had done her proud—again.
“Not like they could do anything about us now,” Zack chuckled, fingering the faint mark on her neck.
She tingled at his touch and the hot memories they stirred. That had been quite a night—their first full moon together. They’d run, played, then come back to the cabin and made love until the sun came up.
Oh, much longer than that, her wolf corrected with a lusty growl.
She blushed in spite of herself, remembering some of their antics. Somewhere along the line, round three had gone from warm and sweet to hot and hard. She could still see the glow in Zack’s eyes when he went down for the mating bite. Could still feel herself rising to eagerly to meet it because she knew what kind of possessiveness it would bring. And she could still see the happy glaze in his eyes after she’d reciprocated. They were one now, mated for life.
Zack’s mind, though, must have still been on the meeting. “Ty did good,” he murmured.
“You did good. Both of you. High time those old alphas had someone stand up to them.” A changing of the guard was long overdue. Someday, change might even come to Greer’s brutal regime at North Ridge pack.
In any case, change was coming to Twin Moon Ranch, her new home. With Ty stepping up to the plate and Zack there to support him, the future looked brighter than ever.
A little corner of her heart squeezed and sighed. “Do you think Ty will ever find his mate?”
Zack considered the question long enough for Rae to feel his doubt. She’d heard what happened years ago: that Ty had nearly found then lost his mate. Even if his thick hide didn’t show it, the scars were there, and she doubted that any of the local girls had it in them to heal those wounds.
“Maybe she’ll find him,” Zack said, and the words carried like a wish into the night. A wish she heartily seconded. All of her own were fulfilled; it was time others got their due. Especially Ty, who’d shown his integrity when it mattered most.
A firefly flitted past, drunk on the serenity of the night. Rae rubbed her palm against Zack’s thigh, ready to wrap the subject up and file it away. The past was past, the future was theirs.
“So then what happened?”
Zack shrugged. “I told them it was time to hunt, and we left, me and Ty.” He leaned in for another kiss. “Can’t keep the pack waiting.”
Rae smiled against his lips. “How many tonight?”
“Depends if you count Cody. He wants to know if we get to kill anything tonight.”
She play-smacked his arm. “Men!”
He pulled her into a hug that pinned her arms safely to her sides. “Don’t blame all of us.”
She melted into his body in spite of herself, and then jerked her mind back to the hunt. Business first.
Followed by pleasure, her wolf added.
Yes, there’d be that, too. Guaranteed.
“So how many, then?” she asked, trying to get back on track.
Zack rattled off a list of names so long, she ran out of fingers to count them on. They’d had a handful of wolves tag along her first hunt as a member of Twin Moon pack, and the number had doubled the second time around. From the sounds of it, there’d be even more tonight. Some of them were already trotting to the hills and yipping in anticipation, waiting for the Mistress of the Hunt.
Waiting for her. Rae took a deep breath and found the scent of a destiny fulfilled. She had her mate, her pack, her duty.
Just like the old days, her wolf nodded, when the huntress led her pack in the chase.
“No,” Zack
said, reading her mind. “These are the new days. And you know what?”
“What?”
He kissed her. “Something tells me they’re going to be good.”
The End
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hungry for more? Check out the next book in the Twin Moon Ranch series: Desert Moon (Book 1), in which Ty gets a second chance to win his destined mate – the daughter of an enemy wolfpack. Zack and Rae appear throughout the series, such as in Desert Blood (Book 2), in which Cody battles a band of marauding vampires to save his mate, or Desert Fate (Book 3), in which Rae gets her revenge on the evil alpha she once fled. Sign up for my newsletter, and you'll get a FREE STORY from the series, too!
Follow Anna Lowe online at:
http://www.annalowebooks.com/
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Anna-Lowe-Books/677291092359521
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Bait: The Angler Book One
By Annie Nicholas
Heat rating: Sweet
Paranormal Romance
Live bait makes all the difference.
Sent to Budapest by her slayer boss, Connie Bence’s mission is to bait the vampire Overlord into a trap. Their plans hit a snag when the suave bloodsucker turns the tables on them and captures her instead. The slayers have concrete proof he’s guilty of murder and Connie is ready to kiss her ass goodbye until this ruthless killer does the unthinkable by protecting her from his own kind. It plants seeds of doubt in her mind and she begins to question his guilt.
Now she is thrown into his world where blackmail determines her every move and where she must betray those she cares about or let them die. The stakes are high. She either puts her trust in Rurik or leads him to his execution.
Note to Readers
Whenever I start a new adventure with Connie Bence, it feels like I’m slipping on a comfortable sweater. Connie was my first heroine and close to my heart. BAIT has been around since 2010, but in this special edition, I’ve added a short story at the end that takes place between this story and the next book CATCH. Hope you enjoy.
To receive notices of new releases, free reads, sales and giveaways, join my mailing list.
Chapter 1
Live bait made all the difference, pretty much a no-brainer. If the prey hungered, it was best to use someone like me.
I needed to attract my quarry’s attention so I dressed outside the Budapest nightlife norm. The beautiful, exotic eastern European women filled the place with their form fitting, dark clothes and smoky make-up. This fashion did not complement my five foot, two inch, olive skinned, ‘holy cow she’s got curves’ frame.
Instead, I tousled my shoulder-length, dark-blond curls and applied a little lip gloss. The high-waisted, filmy white dress, which possessed a neckline low enough I had better not sneeze, with the silver stiletto heels, made me a beacon. Time I hooked me a monster and reeled him in.
The popular nightclub jammed, and on any other night I’d be having a great time, but the crush of people made it difficult to spot anyone. Even with heels I’d have trouble seeing Rurik. I twisted and swung my hips to the pounding music as I grooved across the sunken dance floor. Tables stood around the edges so the patrons could watch.
I should have shimmied instead of turned when someone’s elbow made contact with my forehead. Flailing, I tottered on my heels, tripped over someone’s foot, and landed on the empty staircase.
Legs sprawled, white dress twisted too high and pulled too low, I gripped my throbbing head in surprise as the world spun. I was the picture of American class abroad.
A shadow blocked out the colored lights reflecting off the mirrored walls. It distracted me from my revealing predicament. Large, strong hands grasped my shoulders. I gazed up and my heart raced.
Rurik. The target I had hunted for in every ruin-club, open-air party, and disco in Budapest. A delicious, hunky, make-me-swoon vampire.
He lifted me to my stiletto-laden feet.
Most people don’t believe in vampires, thinking them myth or legend. I know otherwise. My job comprised of luring these monsters to their executioner.
I was bait.
Rurik said something in Hungarian.
Tourists had a better grasp on the language than I did. I shook my head. “English?” My heart hammered faster than the music’s beat. I’d searched weeks for him and he found me, I couldn’t have planned a better scenario.
His cold, arctic, eyes bore into mine. Even with me wearing heels he towered over me. I couldn’t help but admire his dark, slicked back hair, exposing fine sculpted cheekbones, a narrow face, and a set of full lush lips—all male and very tasty.
Once assured I could stand on my own, he released m e, and brought my hand to his mouth to brush those lush lips against my knuckles. “You’re an unexpected treasure, my angel,” he translated over the loud music.
“Thanks.” I’d lost hope of ‘bumping ‘ into him and just complied with Colby’s—my employer’s—routine orders. Seduce him into following me to the hotel room close by where they waited.
Vampire or not, he provoked a forbidden lust. I was still a woman, after all.
Rurik belonged on the cover of GQ. His black Italian suit contrasted nicely with his white dress shirt and pale skin, tailored to fit his athletic build. Everything about him was simple and elegant.
Everything except the ring on his left pinky finger. A gold antique, with a rock set in it big enough to choke on. Only the Overlord of a city could wear such a ring. It symbolized his power—like a king’s crown.
His hand trailed up my arm, to touch the thin, white fabric of my dress. He said something but the music drowned him out. I didn’t really need to hear him. The hunger in his eyes told me everything. He liked me.
“Do you still want to dance?” He shouted and gestured to the packed floor.
“No, I think I should quit while I’m ahead.” I pointed to my forehead, where a welt throbbed with my racing heart.
He chuckled. “Then let me buy you a drink. My name is Rurik.” His grasp tightened on my arm as he led me away from the dance floor. The corners of his mouth lifted into a small pleasant smile as he turned from me. It wouldn’t do to flash fang and scare dinner away.
It irked me he just assumed I’d say ‘yes ‘ to his invitation. I stuffed my annoyance to the back of my mind, I didn’t have the luxury for personal preferences, and I had a role to play.
We made our way through the throng of Saturday night cruisers to a table in a secluded corner. Some men sat there, then stood upon our arrival, and moved to join others who hovered within eyesight of the table. Rurik’s guards. Things were quieter here; we could talk instead of yell.
He assisted me to a chair, then slid his closer to mine. Close enough to touch. “Are you American?”
A server walked up and set a bottle of Popov vodka in front of us with two shot glasses.
“Last time I checked.” The smell of his mild, spiced cologne drifted around me.
He laughed at my wiseass remark and filled the shot glasses, placing one in my hand.
“I don’t drink,” I confessed. “It goes straight to my head,” I lied.
“Then bottoms up.” He leaned forward, slipped his arm around mine, and tossed his vodka down.
Playing along, I faked taking a small sip, but he moved his arm up quick, and tipped my glass to a steeper angle. The contents emptied down my throat and burned as it cascaded to my stomach. I coughed and grimaced at the awful taste. Vodka never was my drink of choice.
My annoyance grew to outrage. I bit the inside of my cheeks; worried the verbal lashing on the tip of my tongue would slip out. Forced to flirt with this obnoxious creep wasn’t worth my pay, but not all my job satisfaction came from the bank. I would enjoy watching Colby stake this jerk.
Rurik smiled tight-lipped. “Forgive me. I couldn’t resist the temptation.” He brushed a wayward curl from my face.
I leaned into his touch—even though I wanted to pour the vodka ove
r his head—and forced a smile. Talented enough to put laughter into my eyes while thinking violent thoughts made me good at my job.
He filled the glasses again, amusement sparkling in his eyes.
I glared at the repulsive drink instead of at him, and tried to pull the reins on my mounting temper. His phenomenal packaging must only be skin deep.
Rurik gave a gentle laugh. “You’re angry with me.”
Perceptive. “I told you, I don’t want to drink.” He was a real detective, this one. I smiled at him, putting an extra quirk to my lips. “Angry is a strong word, though. Life’s too short to be angry.”
Waving the waiter over, he ordered something I couldn’t understand, then returned his attention to me. “You haven’t told me your name.”
I stopped giving my shot glass the evil eye. The vodka stirred my stomach something fierce, yet called to my old vices. “I’m Connie Bence.” I offered him my hand. Damn, his arrogance distracted me and I gave him my real name. Just call me competent.
“Nice to meet you, Connie.” He took my hand and traced lazy circles in my palm. “Such a sweet morsel should have a name like...” His gaze lifted from my hand and pinned me to the chair . “Rabbit.”
My already angry stomach rebelled. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and focused by visualizing myself not being sick on my target. That would be two weeks of hard work down the drain, literally.
“That’s lovely, Rurik, but I prefer Connie.” I peeked and saw Rurik had moved in closer.
His eyes followed the shape of my face, down the lines of my neck, to the curves of my breasts. “I’ve noticed you before tonight, Rabbit, at other clubs.”
I blinked. He’d noticed me before tonight? Why had he waited until now to introduce himself? A chill crept up my spine. I learned to listen to those instincts. It was time to bail out.
My employer, Colby, would be pissed. I didn’t know all the details of this case, I never did. He would cast me out to a choice location and hope I’d bring in his prize. He led a group of mercenaries I met a year ago, in Las Vegas, who taught me the ropes of my job. They scraped me from the bottom of a bottle and gave me a new life. I owed them.