Blue Moon

by J. A. Belfield

  Nathan’s eye flicker suggested he caught the minute movement of Sean’s lips, yet he didn’t turn. He seemed only to have eyes for the sweet smelling women.

  “Just a minor setback,” I murmured, frowning at Nathan’s lack of interest. I understood the witches smelled good—they made me want to sniff at them some more, too—maybe take a little bite just to see how they tasted—but they seemed to have a much stronger effect on the men round the table.

  Sean’s eyebrow gave a slight lift. At my whispered, “Later,” his attention zapped back to the three women carrying in plates.

  I turned to Amber. “Would you mind if I used your bathroom before dinner?”

  “Sure,” she said. “It’s directly ahead at the top of the stairs.”

  “Thanks.” If I didn’t limit my smiles, I’d have jaw ache before long.

  My fingers wove into Sean’s hair as I passed, to remind him of my existence, and I left the room. A right turn brought me to the foot of the stairs, located between the dining room and the front room, which I presumed to be some kind of lounge. I peered toward the front door. Closed. Where had Marianne gone? I checked the other way along the hall. No sign of her.

  With a deep breath, I mounted the stairs. The bathroom door stood ajar right where Amber said I’d find it. I went in, locked the door and rang Jess.

  “More problems?” she asked.

  “Not really. I’m inside now.”

  “How?”

  “I pissed Marianne off so she stepped across the dust …then I hurt her—a little—and blew the dust out of my way.”

  Jess laughed. “Sounds like you’re having fun.”

  “Oh, yeah, a great time,” I muttered. “And the party hasn’t even started yet.”

  “Okay, so you’re in. What now?”

  “Well, there are more here than just Marianne and Amber—the flipping house is full of witches. And they’re all wearing some type of perfume. I mean, the exact same perfume. It’s weird. But even weirder than that? The men are all bloody gazing at the witches with dreamy eyes.”

  “Does the perfume have any distinguishable scents?” she asked.

  “No specific ones I can detect any stronger than others. It just smells sweet. Why?”

  “Sweet?”

  “Yes …sickly. Like sweet enough you’d consider eating them for dessert, sweet. Why?”

  “Hmm.”

  I lowered the toilet lid and sat. “You think the perfume is doing something?”

  “It sounds to me like they’re pulling out all the stops,” Jess said. “These are very determined witches.”

  “Why?” A scratch of my hand fuzzed my hair up. “What is it?”

  “If I’m right . . .”

  “Which you usually are,” I said.

  “Which I usually am,” she parroted. “It sounds like a bidding potion that a witch would dab herself with to entice a man to do her bidding in a seduction sense of—”

  “They’re trying to seduce them?” My hand tightened on the phone.

  “Yes.”

  “No wonder I wasn’t part of their plans.” I groaned, rubbing at my face. “What should I do?”

  “Where are you now?” she asked.

  “In the bathroom.”

  “And everyone else is …?”

  “Downstairs.”

  “So you’re upstairs?” she asked. “Alone?”

  “Yes,” I said with an eye roll.

  “So …go mooch. See if you can find the potion. You can bet your life it’s there somewhere, like a personal supply.”

  “Okay.” I stood to slide back the bathroom lock. Grasping the door handle, I hesitated. “But, why?”

  “Because,” she said, her tone exasperated, “if you can’t beat them, join them.”

  “Ah.” I paused to pull open the bathroom cabinet for a quick scour. Toothbrushes and paste, shower gel, shampoo, facial wash, tweezers—nothing resembling any kind of perfume. “Not in the bathroom.”

  “Try the bedrooms.”

  I eased down the handle to the bathroom door.

  “And remember, you need to be quiet about it.”

  “No, really …you think?” I whispered.

  Her giggled response tugged my lips into a grin as I crept across the landing to the first bedroom door. I nudged it open and stepped into the room. A second of visual scouring preceded a few inhalations. “It’s not here.”

  “You didn’t even look.”

  “I can’t smell it. If they used it in this room, I’d pick up a hint of it, but there isn’t one.”

  “Oh.” She fell silent for a moment. “Cool way to search. You know, I’m missing a pair of stinky socks I’ve been searching for, for weeks—”

  “Ha, bloody ha, Jess.” I tiptoed back across the landing, pushed open another door. As soon as I stepped inside, it hit me. “Bingo.”

  “You got it?”

  “I’ve got the room.” I moved forward. “Now, I just need to find the stuff.”

  “So, get looking then.”

  “What do you think I’m doing?” I crossed to a dressing table beneath the window.

  The entire bedroom looked like a throwback from the fifties. Lace doilies adorned every one of the aged wooden surfaces. On top of the dresser’s centre doily sat a bottle.

  I picked it up. My lips curved as I pulled out the stopper. “Well, that was easy. They didn’t even bother to hide it.”

  A tilt of the bottle sent splatters onto my T-shirt. I poured some onto the stopper, flicked some onto my stomach and back beneath my clothing, a few flecks onto my jeans. I shoved the stopper back in to catch some more and used it to dab scent beneath my ears and on my wrists.

  “Is it the right thing?” asked Jess. “Have you found it?”

  An upward flick sent a few specks to land between my nearly non-existent breasts. “Yep.” Another, higher, sprayed my hair.

  “Okay, so dab some on . . .”

  “Done . . .”

  “In moderation,” Jess finished. “It’s powerful stuff, Jem. Only use a tiny amount, do you understand?”

  I glanced down at the patches of oily stains across my clothing, at my wrists where I’d put more than one helping. Hmmm.

  “Are you listening to me, Jem?”

  “Sure. Don’t go overboard.”

  “That’s right.” Her heaved sigh travelled the line. “And flush the rest down the loo. That way, they can’t apply more to themselves to strengthen their own aroma.”

  Back in the bathroom, I disposed of the bottle’s contents. Flushing the toilet solidified my reason for venturing upstairs.

  “Done?” Jess asked.

  “Yep.” I frowned when I caught sight of my spotted T-shirt and jeans. With a roll of my shoulders, I shook off my concern. “Time to hang up, Jess. I’m going into battle.”

  “Good luck,” she said with a laugh.

  • • •

  Every crevice, nook and corner of the house held no scent other than the one I carried upon my body. Neither the dinner nor any of the people occupying the house reached my senses. I would have been able to pick them up—if not for the potion excessively splashed about myself.

  One step into the dining room told me my efforts had been worth it. The noses of the pack all turned to me like a Mexican wave at a rock gig. Within a second, their nostrils switched from twitching to full-out flaring as though overcome by the need to get more.

  I grinned as I lifted my sights to the five witches. From them, my attention circled the seating arrangement—Josh, at my end of the table, Sean to his left, Nathan, Ethan, Heather, and Stephanie who leaned back as though in a bid to remain concealed. At the head of the table sat Marianne, glowering down the generous length of wood in my
direction; to her left, Zoë, Amber, Connor and Kyle, ending with Daniel to Josh’s right.

  Twelve seats. Twelve bodies.

  My eyebrow lifted.

  “Oh.” Marianne managed a smirk, waved a hand toward her sister. “We were supposed to bring in that extra chair for Jem.”

  I held her gaze. “Don’t trouble yourself. It’s not a problem.” My lips twitched as a solution came to me. “In fact,”—I headed for Josh, lifted my leg up and over his lap—“I’m sure I’ll be quite comfortable here.”

  Allowing Marianne the best grin I had in my acting portfolio, I lowered my bum.

  As soon as it hit Josh’s lap, his arms took hold and tugged my body backward. His nose burrowed into my neck—the following long, slow inhalation a wind buffer against my ear.

  Potent?

  The vibrations of Josh’s body hit my back in waves.

  Understatement—much!

  Marianne lowered her head and glared.

  I glanced down at the delicious looking spread of food across the table before peering round at the men. “This looks amazing, doesn’t it?” I picked up my fork. “I’m absolutely ravenous.”

  Marianne’s bright eyes turned frosty as she smiled. “Then please eat, Jem.”

  Her expression told me she’d figured out what I’d done. It also made me cautious of the food she’d invited me to sample. If the spread contained anything intended for the men, it would be in my system the second I ate it.

  Oh, to hell with it.

  I reached out and helped myself to a couple of gammon slices. Tongs had been left for the roast potatoes. I used them to snare one, pausing when my hand came near, and I saw the green specks coating its surface.

  “What’s on the spuds?”

  “Basil,” said Heather with a smile.

  Thanks to my aroma, I had to bring it right beneath my nose to confirm her answer. Satisfied, I dropped it onto my plate.

  As though taking my cue, the others did the same—everyone except Josh, who’d yet to remove his nostrils from my flesh.

  I reached down and parted his knees enough for me to fit between. “If we sit like this, Josh, you should still be able to eat around me.” I slid forward an inch.

  His arms tightened. “No.” He drew me back to my initial position.

  “Josh!” I couldn’t mistake the warning Sean’s tone held.

  My head twisted to the left.

  Sean leaned out of his seat toward the two of us. His eyes sought out Josh’s. Sean had never warned Josh before about the affectionate behaviour he showed me, but he shuffled forward, bringing his seat with him. His dark eyes met mine. “Sit with me, Jem.”

  “It’s okay, baby. Let me sit with Josh through dinner, and you can have me for dessert.”

  Like he misconstrued my words, his eyes darkened until he looked as though he could quite happily eat me there and then.

  As Josh’s hand trailed a slow circle across my stomach, a gulp threatened to bung my throat.

  Sean’s eyes followed the movement. His jaw tightened when Josh’s other hand joined in the fun.

  Chairs shuffled across carpet.

  My head jerked up.

  One by one, the other men inched closer to my position. Hungered eyes locked onto me, making no attempt to disguise the extended flare of their nostrils.

  I narrowed mine at them. Did they even realise what they were doing? As I studied their altered behaviour and their rapid loss of control, Jess’s words bounced around in my head. It’s powerful stuff, Jem.

  Damn right about that.

  Josh’s arms tugged me back further as though a sliver of air provided too much of a gap.

  Sean glared at him. The first tremor visited his lips.

  I couldn’t see Josh, couldn’t read his expression, but the unmistakable swelling that greeted my backside told me what had Sean so worked up.

  Ooooh …no.

  “Sit with me,” Sean murmured again.

  I stood.

  Josh hauled me back down.

  It took effort to unpeel his vice-gripping fingers and unfold his arms. I managed to get as far as standing again.

  Josh shot to his feet behind me.

  Sean flew from his chair to my side. His arm enfolded my waist, steering me toward him. He pressed his cheek against mine, aiming his sights at Josh, and a low growl vibrated up from his throat—one that would have been inaudible to the witches.

  Josh gave a low growl in response before sinking back into his seat.

  The witches remained silent, eyes wide or narrowed, brows creased—hands clenched, in Marianne’s case. Their furious expressions reflected they’d never intended the pack to fight over me.

  Sean lifted me until my legs had cleared Josh’s lap and dragged me to his chair. When he sat back down, his arms took me with him. I’d barely gotten comfortable, and his nose nudged into my hair. “What have you done, Jem?”

  “Later,” I murmured. “Let’s get this over with and get out of here.”

  13

  Dinner could not have been more uncomfortable. Josh dropped half of his food en route to his plate. Sean smeared gravy into my hair when he failed to fully close his mouth whilst burrowing and chewing at the same time. The rest of the pack clattered forks to their plates in between mouthfuls and sat gazing my way like halfwits during each round of mastication.

  Maybe the mingling of my wolf scent with the potion had created the adverse affect. I didn’t know. It didn’t matter. I’d waded out of my depth, and it took all of five minutes to wish I’d listened to Jess before indulging in a frivolous dousing of rape juice.

  When the meal came to its conclusion, and the witches refused our offer of assistance with the tidying up, I couldn’t have been more relieved.

  I tilted my face to Sean’s at my cheek. “Can we leave now?” I whispered.

  He leaned in close to his dad, mumbled the request to him.

  Nathan nodded and pushed to his feet. “Thank you for the meal, ladies, but we really should be on our way.”

  Ethan, Connor, Kyle and Daniel stood also—like robots trained to act on command.

  I straightened my knees until on my feet, Sean’s body following like a conjoined twin connected to me at both hips.

  Josh reached my side so fast, his chair toppled on one leg before flopping back down with a thud.

  Alarm flitted across Marianne’s face, but she controlled it and stood also. “Do you and Danny have to go, too, Josh?”

  My gaze went from her to Josh.

  Josh turned to Marianne as if she’d handed him the most difficult decision in the world. His eyes shot sideways to me, back to Marianne, to me again, back and forth.

  I took a step closer. “Aren’t you going to come home and play, Josh?”

  His head swivelled toward me, his face lowering until his stare met mine. The feral glint of his eyes revealed the predator I’d never witnessed outside of Josh’s wolf form. His expression sent a shiver through me. “We won’t be staying today, Marianne.”

  My lips twitched in triumph.

  “Are you sure, Josh?” Marianne asked, her tone sultry.

  Without turning from Josh, I caught the subtle nearing of Marianne as she rounded the table. “Play with me?” I whispered.

  Josh gazed down at me, eyes glazed over. “I need to go home.” Huskiness dominated his tone.

  “Dad,” Sean whispered, “we need to move.” At times, enhanced hearing came in handy.

  “Thanks again, ladies.” Nathan headed for the door.

  Ethan’s, “Thanks,” and, “Bye,” came next. As he passed behind me, his deep inhalation reached my ears.

  The other four witches climbed to their feet as one man after another turned to leave, utteri
ng appreciation and farewells on exit.

  Josh took a step closer, seriously infringing on my personal space.

  Sean’s erection pressed into my back.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  Sean remained close enough to trip me on my walk for the door. Heat at my left told me Josh mirrored Sean’s proximity on my other side. Sean’s hand sliding round and grasping my hip, pulling me into him suggested Josh stuck nearer than he liked.

  As I’d seen the glint in Josh’s eyes, met with the physical reaction of his lust, Sean’s territorial protectiveness seemed reasonable.

  Fresh air encompassed me when I stepped from the house. My strides carried me along the path to the gate. At the lack of heat to my left shoulder, I spun.

  Back at the doorstep, Marianne’s fingers clutched at Josh’s arm as she stretched up to offer her cheek.

  Josh’s lips met her skin, his nostrils working overtime, telling me he detected Marianne’s personal helping of the good stuff.

  “It’s a shame you won’t stay,” Marianne said.

  Crafty witch. I shot down the path, urged up onto my toes. “Josh, you promised you’d play with me.”

  At the sound of my voice, his head tilted, and his unsure expression fixed on me. A slide of my fingers between his mouth and the witch’s cheek helped to cure his uncertainty, and with a good dose of my scent-soaked wrist to lure him nearer, his eyes closed. When they reopened, he barely looked human.

  “Come on.” I reached for his hand, fingers still at his cheek, drawing him with little effort along the path as I made my way backward.

  Sean greeted us at the gate. His hands took my hips. “Your ride’s over there, Josh.”

  “I’m riding with you.” Josh’s tone held no room for discussion.

  “Let’s just get out of here,” I said.

  Sean led us back farther. The truck door opened with a metallic sigh at my rear.

  I stepped to the side, nudged Josh toward it and pushed at his rear until he’d climbed in and sat. Sean took my arm, but I shook my head. “You next.”

  The others had already climbed in. From the truck in front, the Larsen men craned their necks in my direction. Ethan’s face pressed against the glass to my left.