Wicked Moon
The Reluctant Werewolf Chronicles, Book 2
Tori Centanni
Bad Blood Books
Copyright © 2018 by Tori Centanni
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Wicked Moon (Book 2)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
About the Author
Also by Tori Centanni
Wicked Moon (Book 2)
I’m Charlotte Lear and I’m a werewolf who’s slowly coming around to the idea that being a horror movie monster might not be so bad. Sure, there are downsides—shifting still hurts like heck—but the local wolf pack is pretty chill.
When a couple of werewolves go missing during the full moon, including one from another pack, it becomes painfully clear that someone out there still wants us all dead. And to make matters worse, now a rival wolf pack is butting into our territory. As more werewolves die, tensions between our packs mount.
With the help of a frustrating (but still pretty sexy) werewolf named Raff, I’ve got to figure out who’s trying to kill me and my new wolf pack before they succeed in killing us all or starting a werewolf war.
Wicked Moon is book two of the Reluctant Werewolf Chronicles, a humorous urban fantasy series with elements of mystery and romance.
Chapter 1
I glared at the toaster oven and then checked the clock. Orange light illuminated Raff’s kitchen as the sun sank lower in the sky. This toaster oven was at least a decade old and was taking forever and year to heat up my pizza. My stomach growled. I paced, feeling unmoored. The rising full moon tugged at my veins, and my muscles twitched in anticipation of the impending shift into a wolf.
This was what being a werewolf entailed: a moody restlessness combined with a desperate hunger while your body itched to tear itself apart in order to become something else.
The toaster oven dinged. The pizza was only hot on the edges, the cheese still a cold lump in the center, but I scarfed it down like the starving animal I was, wiping my face with a napkin as Raff came into the kitchen.
“Charlie,” he said, eyeing me strangely.
At least he used my nickname and didn’t call me Charlotte. I didn’t understand the odd look, though.
I was wearing black pajama pants with purple polka dots and a black t-shirt. Both items were new, purchased because most of my clothes had burned down with my rental house a few weeks ago. My fading dyed black hair was in a loose ponytail. The entire ensemble was meant to be ripped off quickly before the sun set so that I could shift into a wolf without ruining my new clothes.
Raff was dressed like a normal—albeit kind of nerdy—guy: dark wash denim jeans and a pale yellow t-shirt with the word “Woof” in blue-green on the front, which matched the greenish-hue of the faded blue stripes dyed into his blond hair. Both of us were in desperate need of a fresh coat of hair dye. Hair dye was not a werewolf thing, but apparently something Raff and I had a shared affinity for.
“What?” I demanded, wiping my mouth in case I’d missed a blob of sauce or something.
Raff smiled. “You ready for the big night?”
Oh, right. He was excited about the stupid full moon. I seriously didn’t get his enthusiasm. The transformation into a wolf hurt. Bones broke and reformed, sinew and muscle stretched and snapped into place. The pain was so bad that, for the past three years I’d been a werewolf, I blacked out after only minutes of it. I never even got to experience being a wolf. Which was why my former solution was to chain myself up in a small room where my wolf self couldn’t do any damage or hurt anyone.
Raff, however, insisted that it was possible to be present and even enjoy being a wolf. It just took time and practice, and embracing your wolf self, whatever the heck that meant.
“I’m not ready,” I said and ignored how his smile faded.
Raff loved being a werewolf and, like so many others, looked forward to the freedom and escape being a wolf once a month offered. I wasn’t there yet.
“What’s the plan? Because if there is no plan, I’m going to tear up your spare room.”
“Of course there’s a plan. Follow me.”
Raff winked. Actually winked. Which was a little bit sexy, though I’d never tell him that. It was also super dorky. That was Raff: a super hot nerd with terrible taste in t-shirts who loved the gym as much as he loved his computer.
He went out the front door. I stopped on the threshold. The sun was so low in the sky that most of the orange light was gone and gray twilight had taken over. Deep down, part of me ached to run wild.
“I’m not going to transform outside,” I said sharply when Raff finally turned to see why I wasn’t following.
“Obviously. This is your first attempt to try and connect with your inner wolf. Like I said, it takes time.” He nodded for me to follow and, because time was running out, I did.
He led me to a freestanding stone garage on the corner. A keypad was attached to the wall. Raff typed in a code, and the garage door rolled open. Inside was enough room to house a single car. There were no windows, but there were vents in the ceiling, and I felt air flowing through the room.
I did a circle of the small space, feeling anxious. There were no chains attached to the wall for me to restrain myself with. There was a small metal cabinet, the kind one might store tools in, bolted to the wall in one corner, and in the center there was a basket of very brightly colored plush snakes. I pulled out a spotted green and yellow one and held it up.
“Is this a chew toy?” I demanded.
Raff shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to have something to keep your wolf entertained.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” I said, dropping the chew toy into the basket.
It landed on a plush lizard toy the size of a basketball.
“You can’t expect to connect with your inner wolf if you keep her chained and locked in small rooms with nothing to do.”
“So you gave me a basket of dog toys.”
I folded my arms across my chest. This was the opposite of what I wanted. If I’d had my way, I’d be a vampire, and vampires didn’t play with toys. Well, the one vampire I knew, Damien Voigt, had an impressive collection of video games, but the point stood.
“Look, the sun is setting,” Raff said, running his fingers through his hair. “I need to get… elsewhere.”
Raff didn’t lock himself up while changing because he was present as a wolf and could be sure he wouldn’t attack or bite innocent civilians. He hadn’t told me where he was going, but I suspected he was heading to Volunteer Park. Now that we’d stopped the monster hunters who’d come after the pack, it was safe to run solo in wolf form again for those werewolves who preferred that. Like Raff, who not only loved being a
werewolf but actually became one on purpose. It boggled my mind.
“So what, I just stay in here? Won’t the neighbors hear me?”
The very last thing I needed was good samaritan calling the police to report a dog trapped in a garage. That wouldn’t end well for any of us.
“It’s mostly soundproof. The ventilation system is contained, so you’ll get fresh air while keeping the noise output to a minimum.”
I stared at the stark gray walls of the cold garage. It wasn’t unlike the room I’d been shifting in, minus chains and plus a basket of dog toys.
“Okay,” I said finally.
“Oh, and this,” Raff crossed the room and tapped the metal cabinet. “This is for your clothes so they don’t get destroyed.”
I nodded. That was good. If I kept my clothes on, they’d get shredded during the transformation. And if they were left lying around, they’d getting shredded by wolf-me who, no doubt, would take great pleasure in ripping them apart.
Raff gave me a small smile. “Relax. You’ll be fine. This is a baby step. You’re still safely contained.”
“I know,” I said a little too quickly.
After three years of shackling myself to the wall, not doing so felt strange and reckless, even if I was still locked in a confined space.
“You’re sure I can’t break down the garage door?”
Raff broke into a full-on grin.
“I’m sure.” He glanced back at the sky, which was darkening far too quickly. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Happy full moon!”
He stepped back and closed the garage door, leaving me in the dark with enough time to strip down and store my clothes out of the way before the pain ripped through my bones and the shift began. Pain radiated through me, and then everything went mercifully black.
I awoke naked in a pile of shredded plush and white cotton stuffing. The colorful remains of the chew toys were scattered all over the floor, reduced to strips of fabric. The basket that had held the toys was also in pieces. I sat up, my body sore from both transformations. I didn’t have my phone, and without windows I didn’t know how late I’d slept.
I rose gingerly to my feet and stretched. I needed a long, hot shower and possibly a massage. I stumbled over to the cabinet where I’d stored my clothes. It had been bolted to the wall, but apparently wolf-me had managed to knock it over. The bolt hung loose in the wall above it.
I got my clothes out and had just tugged them back on when the garage door opened.
Raff was slightly out of breath, his clothes also tossed on quickly with his t-shirt on backwards. He was grinning from ear to ear and brimming with a happy energy. His t-shirt was on inside-out. He surveyed the plush toy massacre and beamed.
“Looks like you had fun,” he said.
“Shut up,” I said, reaching up to pull my hair into a messy ponytail with the holder I’d kept in my shoe.
“So? How did it go?”
I shrugged. “You can see for yourself.”
“You don’t remember anything?”
It was impossible to miss the hope in his voice. I almost hated to dash his dreams.
“Nothing.”
I blinked as a memory, distant as a dream, flashed in my mind. A memory of shaking one of the plush toys until it tore apart in my teeth.
“Maybe a little.”
Raff’s grin widened. “That’s awesome. I want to hear all about it. But first, I need food. You hungry?”
“When I am not?” I smiled.
Not that he’d needed to ask. Being a wolf burned calories like a wildfire, and I was starved. I didn’t even bother to change clothes before jumping in Raff’s car. I figured he’d take us to a drive-thru or something, but instead he pulled into the parking lot of a Denny’s. He quickly put his shirt on correctly while I desperately tried to smooth my ponytail. I hated being out and about without makeup and in pajamas, but I was too hungry to argue.
I ordered a huge breakfast with pancakes, bacon, sausage, eggs, hash browns, and a side of toast. Raff ordered two omelets and a side of pancakes. The waitress seemed to recognize him and didn’t blink at his order, or mine. She just smiled and brought us coffee while we waited for our food.
“So last night was good?” I asked, because he was practically buzzing.
“It was amazing. Running the park is… I just can’t explain how incredible it feels.” He sipped his coffee black. I ripped open two sugar packets and dumped them into mine. “It’s like this part of you that’s always kept on a leash finally gets to run free.”
I struggled to connect his sheer giddiness with my faint memory of tearing apart plush toys. But the memory was too brief and short to get any real feeling from it, let alone pure elation.
“So you remembered something,” Raff said, as if reading my thoughts.
He kept doing that somehow.
“I think so. I mean, I’m not sure. It might just be a figment of my imagination.”
I stirred my coffee, watching the cream swirl into the dark drink, turning it two shades lighter.
“I have this image of shaking this toy in my teeth. I can almost remember how it felt to tear into it.”
Jaws sinking into fabric. Too cold, not hot like meat, but still thrilling. I shivered at my faint recollection.
“But that’s it.”
“That’s something,” Raff said, excited. “Like I said, it takes time.”
Our food arrived. Raff checked his phone and then set it on the table before he picked up a fork. I’d already practically swallowed a wedge of toast whole, but I was too hungry to admire his restraint.
After we’d scarfed down a good chunk of the food we’d ordered, I asked the question that had been swirling around my mind since the night before.
“How do you tolerate the pain?”
Raff’s fork hovered in mid-air with a bite of egg and cheese on the end. He stared, take by surprise, and met my eyes. I stared back, unwavering. I wanted to know.
“I just do, I guess,” he finally said with a shrug, before finishing his bite.
“I’m pretty sure it’s the pain that makes me black out. So how is it that other werewolves just cope with it like it’s nothing?”
Raff shifted uncomfortably. “It sucks, but you get used to it. It’s the price we pay for the freedom of one night as a wolf.”
“Kind of expensive,” I muttered, stabbing a piece of sausage with my fork.
“It’s worth it,” Raff said, but more quietly and with less certainty, or maybe just less certainty that he was convincing me of it.
I bit back a retort. We both knew I didn’t think it was worth it. I would have accepted that level of pain and worse to become an immortal vampire, and even then I’d only have to endure it once, not every month.
“Shifters don’t seem to feel much pain.”
Shifters were people born with the ability to shift into an animal. Raff and I’d watched a coyote shifter effortlessly transform in front of us. If it hurt, he hadn’t let it show.
“We were born human. The magic that lets us turn into wolves doesn’t come without a cost,” Raff said.
It sounded like a line he’d heard somewhere or used before. But he wasn’t wrong. And that was fair, if you wanted to turn into a wolf.
If, like me, you didn’t, it was just another layer of suck on a suck sandwich.
We finished our breakfast in silence, wolfing down the rest until there was nothing left on any of the plates.
“It’ll get easier,” Raff said finally, as we headed out to the parking lot.
He gave me a playful punch in the shoulder. I wasn’t so sure, but now that I’d eaten, the lack of sleep had caught up with me and I was too tired to argue.
Chapter 2
I slept until mid-afternoon and awoke groggy and sore but feeling a lot less bleary than I had that morning. In order to take full advantage of my day off, I camped on the sofa watching a marathon of Haunted Cakes, where bakers and cake decorators formed teams to make cakes look like
haunted houses and crypts of the undead.
Not that any of those people believed in vampires, werewolves, witches, faeries, or anything like that. Most people didn’t think the supernatural was anything more than stories, folk tales, and a long-running television show.
Around five pm, the doorbell rang and I jumped up to answer it. Before I could get two steps, Raff came barreling down the stairs and blocked my path to the door.
I stared at him. He stared back with a pointedness in his blue eyes clearly meant to convey a message. Message not received.
“What?” I asked, eyeing the door. “It’s not another pizza, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
I had been subsisting on a lot of pizza delivery lately, in part because between my job at the yogurt shop, bi-weekly wolf pack meetings a million miles away, and Raff’s idea of “training” that involved actual gym equipment, I hadn’t had a lot of time to cook. Not even Kraft Mac and Cheese. That required making sure there was milk in the house. But Raff had started complaining about the pizza boxes piling up in the kitchen and the fact that werewolves should eat more protein and less junk. Like pepperoni isn’t a protein.
Regardless, I hadn’t ordered a pizza this evening, though I was considering it.
“Who’s at the door?” Raff asked.
He wasn’t worried or anything. He was using his teacher voice, meaning it was an academic question.
I wasn’t in the mood.
“Don’t know. That’s why I’m trying to answer it.”
Raff sighed. “Come on, Charlie. At least try to use your wolf senses.”
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