by Vaughn, V.
She sprinted through the shed doorway. The item she was aiming for was right where she remembered it: the broken hoe, its head lying on the ground, the long handle leaning against the wall. She picked up the handle and turned, putting her back against the wall and jutting the long handle outward, bracing her arms.
The wolf smashed into the shed, splintering the half-broken doorway. Raine used all of her body weight and jabbed forward, as hard as she could, as the wolf’s body came at her. A scream came out of her mouth, a crazy rebel yell that she had no idea she was making. She felt the wooden handle jar heavily against the thick muscle of the wolf’s chest, the impact going up her arms into her shoulders, but then she felt it give. The wolf’s momentum had propelled it forward, unstoppable. As the animal’s jaws snapped at her and its eyes blazed, the handle of the hoe slid hard into its chest.
The animal made a sound of pain and backed up a step, its eyes going wild in confusion. Raine lost her grip on the handle, which was still stuck in the wolf’s body; she reached behind her and her hand grasped the hook thing hanging on the wall. She grabbed it and held it in front of her, gripped in her sweaty hands, ready for another attack.
But another attack didn’t come. The wolf reeled backward, making an awful choking sound, and blundered into the side of the shed, making it shake. Then it disappeared outside into the darkness. After a moment, it made one final sound, and then it was silent.
Raine stood still for a long time, the hook clutched in her hands. She could hear her breath heaving through her chest and the rain beating on the damaged roof of the shed. Her arms and shoulders ached. Her hands were icy cold, gripped on the metal of the hook, and her bare feet were even colder, planted on the damp, dirty floor. She made a low, strangled moan in her throat as she felt all of her courage, all of her survival instinct, drain away. If the wolf came back, she had no idea whether she could defend herself again.
It didn’t come back.
Raine took one step, then another. She slowly approached the shed door, wondering if the injured animal could be trying to fool her, or—worse—if there were more of them. She simply could not contemplate the concept that there were more of them.
She could see nothing through the doorway except the corner of her house and a small square of the overgrown yard. She took one more step, until she could see part of the back stoop. There were shards of broken glass winking in the reflected light from the kitchen window. The back door of the house stood splintered and open like a broken tooth.
Still there was no sound. Raine took another step, and then another. When she was fully out of the shed’s doorway, she turned, the hook held in front of her, and looked in the direction she had last heard the wolf’s sound from. Then she froze.
There was no wolf lying on the grass. There was a man.
He was lying on his side, pale against the dark patch of weeds he lay in. His knees were drawn up, his arms curled over his chest, his head angled slightly downward, toward the ground. His eyes were closed. He was large, tall, and naked, his hair longish and medium brown. He was not moving.
Raine stepped closer to him, then closer again. The man didn’t move, and his chest didn’t seem to rise and fall with breath. There was no movement from the woods, no shadow of a wolf. Just the man, naked and vulnerable, injured or passed out or—or—
As Raine got close, she could see it, even in the dark. It was the handle of the broken hoe, sticking from his chest. It was still lodged deeply inside him. It was smeared with blood. His hand, lying still on the ground, had a deep gash in it, as if from a knife.
Raine dropped the hook and screamed.
She staggered back as the scream emptied out of her and put her hands to her face. A dead man. There was a dead man. Not a wolf. A man. I killed him.
She opened her mouth to scream again, but something grabbed her from behind. An arm came around her waist, yanking her backward against the hard planes of a man’s body. A big hand came up and clamped over her mouth. The man was so big, so strong, he lifted Raine off her feet and upward in his steely grip. She felt warm breath on her neck and the soft tickle of a man’s beard.
“Be quiet,” said Alec Zachary’s voice in her ear. “You should have listened to me. I told you you were in danger.”
Chapter 7
Alec felt Raine panic, felt her flail against him, her bare feet kicking, her elbows driving backward. When she moved to bite his hand, he removed it from her mouth and put his other arm around her waist, holding her up from the ground as she struggled. She was strong, but he was stronger. Much stronger. He held her in place and waited.
Eventually, she gasped and went still. Past her, he could see the body in the grass, and his instinct to protect Raine warred with a wave of overwhelming grief. What happened, Ethan? Where have you been? How could it end this way?
He let Raine drop to the ground again, her back sliding against his chest, but he grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. First things first. “Are you all right?” he asked, looking into her pale, shocked face, framed by her soaked, dark hair. “Answer me. Are you all right?”
She brushed a hand over her face, as if she wasn’t sure of the answer. “I’m not hurt,” she replied, her voice temporarily hoarse from screaming. “What the hell are you doing here?”
He decided to be blunt with her, cut to the chase. There was no way around it. “You just killed a werewolf,” he explained.
“A werewolf.” She didn’t seem shocked, but a crazy bark of laughter escaped her throat. “A werewolf,” she said again.
“They don’t normally attack humans like that, unprovoked,” Alec said, speaking every word clearly to get through to her, glossing over the fact that he knew about werewolves because he was one himself. “The moon isn’t even full. So I’m not sure why he attacked you, but he did. You killed him. It was self-defense.”
Her expression hardened as she looked in his eyes, the truth settling in. Her lip quivered. “He’s a man,” she said. “I killed a man, not a wolf. That’s the body of a man lying there.”
“Yes,” Alec said slowly, holding her gaze. “It is. But he was trying to kill you, Raine. He would have done it if you hadn’t defended yourself. You got that? Can you get a grip?”
She nodded, and tried to turn back and look at Ethan’s body, but Alec held her tight. “Come with me,” he said. He led her to the back stoop, through the smashed back door and into her kitchen, which looked like a tornado had hit it. The table was smashed, but he righted one of the chairs and sat her down in it. He watched her sit shivering, wondering what to say, when the phone in his pocket vibrated.
It was Brandon. “What the hell is going on?” he nearly shouted into the phone when Alec answered.
“It’s under control,” Alec replied, keeping his voice calm. Brandon had wanted to come with him when their senses had honed in on where the wolf’s howl was coming from. Alec had made him stay home in case any of the others showed up. Brandon had nearly been frantic, his instincts gone haywire, and only the command of Alec, his Alpha, had made him obey. “I’m at the old Petley place. Raine Greer is here, just like we thought.”
“And Ethan?” Brandon asked. His breathing was hoarse. “That was Ethan’s howl. I’d know it anywhere. Is he all right?”
“No,” Alec said. He watched Raine sitting in the chair in front of him, her shoulders trembling. She was listening to his every word, he knew. “You’re right, it was Ethan. But he’s dead, Brandon. He attacked her, and she killed him.”
Brandon made a low sound of grief from somewhere deep in his chest, his animal half on the rise this close to the full moon just as Alec’s was. Alec felt his own grieving howl threaten, but he controlled it and kept silent. Ethan had been a member of the pack since he was a boy, nearly forty years ago now. He’d been as close to the rest of them as a brother. I failed him, Alec thought, but he pushed that down too.
“It can’t be,” Brandon said. “The moon isn’t full. It’s never happened
like that, not ever in the history of any pack. It can’t happen.”
“It just did,” Alec said. He was as bewildered as Brandon at the fact that Ethan had somehow changed into his wolf form outside of the full moon, but as Alpha he had to act decisive. “Have you heard from any of the others yet?”
“Flynn is on his way,” Brandon said. “Carter has to finish his shift before he can come.”
Alec thought that over and nodded in approval. Carter worked as a night watchman, and for him to leave before his shift was over would attract attention or even get him fired. They did not need any attention trained on them right now; they needed to keep as quiet as possible, especially with a dead body lying in the grass that they somehow had to dispose of. “Merrick and Helsing?” he asked Brandon.
“Neither has checked in yet. Merrick is on the road on his trucking job—he could be anywhere. It could take him time to get back.”
Alec gritted his teeth. Merrick was supposed to be back in Freemont already, with the rest of them, waiting for the full moon. But Merrick wanted to range further and further from the pack recently, and all attempts to change his mind had been futile.
“I haven’t heard from Helsing,” Brandon said, “but he’s on his way.”
Yes, he was. Helsing rarely checked in, but he was only in Seattle, a few hours away, and he never slept at night. When he heard Ethan’s howl, he would come.
That was all of them, then. His ragtag wolf pack of loners and rebels.
And now one of them was dead.
Raine shifted on her chair, and Alec returned his attention to Brandon. “Tell whoever shows up first that we need a cleanup crew,” he said. “Ethan did a lot of damage to the house here. We’ll need all hands on deck. We’ll also need body disposal.” The words cut his throat as they came out, but he had to say them.
“Carter,” Brandon said. His voice cracked, too.
“Tell him the next time he calls in. He’s in charge of it.” Carter would have no problem disposing of a body, even the body of one of his fellow pack members. It was one of the things that made him dangerous. “I have to go,” Alec told Brandon. “I’ll update you when I can.”
He hung up the phone. Raine had regained some of her composure. She ran her hands through her wet hair, pushing it off her face, and squared her shoulders as she looked up at him. The plaid shirt he’d first seen her in earlier, at his gas bar, was soaked with rain, as were her jeans. Her bare feet flexed on the floor, and he realized she could step in the broken glass from the door. Bare feet, he thought. For Christ’s sake. Even in his human form, Ethan would have outweighed her; in his wolf form, he’d likely outweighed her by over a hundred pounds. And yet she’d killed him, singlehandedly, with a piece of wood. In bare feet.
It didn’t add up. And yet it had happened—there was no doubt of it.
“So you know about this,” she said, blinking her wet eyelashes at him. “About these werewolves.”
“Yeah,” he said, swallowing.
“Was I the only one who didn’t know that werewolves exist?”
He looked her in the eye. “You’re one of the only ones who know they do exist,” he said. “There are only seven left in the world. Well, six now. And they’re all here in Freemont.”
“Do they kill people here?” Raine asked. She looked around her kitchen, at the broken door and the broken window, the blood smeared on the floor. “How can it be a secret if this is what they do to people?”
“They don’t kill people,” Alec said. “Not ever.”
“But he tried to kill me.” She seemed to be trying to piece it together.
“Listen,” Alec said. “Raine. Listen to me.”
She looked up at him. She was pale with shock, but calm. She seemed to take him in with those unforgettable light blue eyes. “What is it, Alec Zachary?” she asked him. “How did you get here? How do you know all of this? How did you know to come, that he was trying to kill me?”
Alec swallowed again. This was the worst moment. He’d never expected to fool her, but still, having to tell her was hard. He’d hoped to have a chance at her good opinion for just a little longer, the chance that she’d see him as a normal man. He thought about dancing around it, but there was no point. Alphas didn’t dance around things. So he told her straight.
“This is the last werewolf pack in the world,” he said to her. “Right here in Freemont. We’ve been slowly going extinct for nearly a thousand years, and now there are just six of us. I know because I’m one of them. I’m their leader, the Alpha wolf. The man you killed was one of our pack. He went missing nearly twenty days ago, and we haven’t been able to track him down. We have no idea where he’s been. Until tonight, when he appeared here, in wolf form completely out of schedule, and attacked you.” She watched her face as he spoke, trying to read it and failing. “Raine, you’re a part of us now. No one has killed a werewolf for a hundred and seventy-five years—until you killed one tonight. That makes you one of the pack. That’s how it works: Anyone who kills a werewolf in true battle becomes one of the pack. In fact, it makes you a leader. With me.”
END OF PART ONE
More Full Moon Rising
A Note from Amy
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed Full Moon Rising: Part One. Thanks for reading!
In Part Two, Raine reluctantly tries to stay out of the wolf pack — but she can’t stay away from sexy Alec, the Alpha, and their relationship catches fire. The pack is in trouble, new enemies come to light, and the mystery of Ethan’s disappearance grows deeper. Order Part Two here!
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And as always, you can check my website for updates and extras on the series.
Thanks again,
Amy
About Amy Green
Amy Green spent part of her childhood in Seattle, Washington, trying to stay out of the rain. She has worked as an animal shelter volunteer and as an administrative assistant in the world's worst office. She now lives in Portland, Oregon with her husband, her two children, and a wayward Golden Retriever named Jake.
Conjuring a Wolf - Viv Michaelson
Trouble brews when Clark Kane’s car stalls out in the pouring rain on a hilly street in San Francisco. Just his luck, he ends up stranded outside the house of a curvy witch with a sassy smile—the same witch he’s pretended not to notice. He knows he should stay away, but the temptation is too great to resist.
After being stood up for a date, Cora Buchanan wants to have a little fun. Armed with an old grimoire and a bottle of wine, she casts a love spell. But instead of the anonymous lover she expects, she finds a straight-laced, brooding wolf at the door. Thanking the Goddess for a small miracle, Cora decides to seduce him. The wolf’s supernatural strength is no match for a witch with a few magic tricks up her sleeve.
Copyright
Copyright © 2015 Viv Michaelson All rights reserved.
Dedication:
This book is dedicated to my guy. Thank you for your love, support, and encouragement. I wouldn’t have been able to write this series without you.
Acknowledgements:
First, I would like to thank my critique partners, Belle Scarlett and Jessica Stone. Your thoughtful comments and advice made this book shine. To my editor, Sandra from WriteType Editorial Services, thank you for laughing at my jokes and reminding me why I write. Lastly, I want to say how grateful I am to Violet Vaughn for letting me participate in the First Bite boxed set. You’ve all helped me to embark on a new journey with a new series, and I’m really excited!
Chapter 1
At the high pulsing sound of her phone, Cora Buchanan tripped over the scattered mess of stockings, slinky designer dresses and sheer blouses littered about the floor. It’s about damn time. She grabbed the phone only to find the name Gabrielle flashing on her screen. It was her c
ousin. Where the hell was Derek?
She slid her finger across the phone to answer. “What’s up, Gabby?”
“Did you get my texts?”
Uh, no. She’d been too busy trying on half of her closet. In the end, she’d settled on a green dress with a sweetheart neckline. She bent down to slip on her nude heels, dropping the phone into the pile of clothes on the floor.
“Hang on! Don’t hang up!” she yelled as she scrambled to dig for her cell.
“What are you doing?”
“Sorry, I was getting ready for my date. Derek should be here any minute.”
“So where’s he taking you?”
“Out.” Gabby didn’t need to know where.
“How well do you know this guy?”
“It’s a blind date. Well, sort of. We met online. I mean we’ve talked on the phone a couple times and video chat, but this is the first date.”
“Hmmm.” Cora knew that tone. “Are you sure this is a good idea? He could be a serial rapist for all you know.”
“Seriously, it’s fine. If he tries something, I’ll set fire to his balls. So no worries, ‘kay?’” If setting him on fire didn’t work, she could always turn him into a toad. Being a witch certainly had its advantages.
“Do you have protection?”
Cora rolled her eyes and looked around for the patent leather purse that matched her heels. “What am I, fifteen? Yes, Mom, I have protection. Do you want his parent’s phone numbers, too?”