Howling Passion (Passion Moon 1): (A Shifter, Supernatural Romance)

by Renee Jordan

  And what did that even mean?

  “Dammit,” I snarled, my relaxing mood entirely gone. I stood up, water sloshing in the tub, a bit spilling onto the tiled floor.

  I pulled the stopper, the water gurgling down the drain. I grabbed a towel, roughly drying my body off. I wrapped a second around my damp hair and pulled on the long, night shirt. It fell down to my mid-thigh, modest enough to go downstairs and talk to the two deputies.

  I walked with purpose, my feet thumping as I came down the stairs. Hank was sprawled on the recliner, his shoes kicked off, a beer clutched in one hand. Veronica sat on the couch, her legs curled up. She looked cute and vulnerable instead of her strong self. Her head rested on the couch arm, her face lit by the flickering TV.

  “I'd get some rest,” Hank said as I walked in.

  I plopped down on the couch next to Veronica, her bare feet inches from my hip, her toes curling and wriggling. She still wore the rest of her uniform, though her gun belt lay draped over the coffee table.

  They were watching some horror movie on TV. I grimaced as a monster's claws raked across a young woman's flesh, blood spurting.

  “What are you watching?” I demanded.

  “One of the Howling movies,” Hank laughed. “They always crack me up. They're so corny.”

  “What do you want, Kotie?” Veronica asked, sitting up and stretching her back.

  “Answers,” I said.

  Hank laughed again. “Look at her. You need to run away from the scary house, not towards it. Doesn't she know any better?”

  Veronica ignored Hank, her green eyes boring into mine. “You want to know what Forrest is, right?”

  “Yes! He...he almost changed. The moon did something to him. It sang to him.” I swallowed, almost feeling stupid for asking. “Is he...are you guys...werewolves?”

  On the TV screen, a hairy werewolf roared and howled as it chased down the young, bleeding woman, hungry to rip her apart. Would Forrest do that to me? I swallowed, curling into a ball and clutching my knees to my chest.

  “We're not like that,” Veronica snorted, pointing at the screen. “We're not mindless brutes that murder and kill.”

  “Well, I wonder about Franklin. I'm not sure much of anything goes on in his head,” Hank grinned.

  I swallowed. “So...you transform?”

  “Sometimes,” Veronica shrugged. “When the conditions are right.”

  “But not the full moon?”

  “We'd be hairy beasts right now if that were the case,” Hank pointed out. “Sure, the moon calls to us. We're wolf shifters. We're nocturnal hunters at heart. So the moon sings to us. The song is louder for some of us more than others.”

  “And Forrest?”

  “He feels the change very strong,” Veronica answered. “The moon almost drowns out his senses at times.”

  “He's an Alpha,” Hank shrugged. “That's why we follow him. He's closer to the beast than the rest of us. You felt it, Kotie. That's what excites you. You're drawn to the primal beast howling in his heart.”

  “He's going to rely on you,” Veronica added, seizing my hand. “He's imprinted on you. He's taken you as his mate. He had to relax some of his control to do that, giving a part of himself to you. So you need to treasure that. You need to be his support.”

  “I will,” I nodded. “He's...I've never met a man like him. I...I love him. I think I fell in love when I laid eyes on him.”

  “The imprint does that,” Hank said. “It's powerful among certain breeds of shifters. Particularly us wolves.”

  “Not so strong with the coyotes,” Veronica spat. “Damn Donovan clan.”

  “Wait, they're werecoyotes?” I blinked, remembering the raucous bunch.

  “Yep,” Veronica nodded. “Mangy curs. I think we should drive them out of town.”

  “Are there others?” I asked.

  “Sure. Small towns like these, out in the wilderness, always attract our kind.” Hank took a long swig of his beer. “Miss Maggie's a bear shifter.”

  “That's why everyone listens to her?” I asked.

  Hank nodded. “You never want to mess with a she-bear. Particularly when it involves the strays they adopt.”

  “Who else?” I asked. “What other type of shifters live in town.”

  “Well, there's the—”

  “Shh,” Veronica hissed. “Did you hear that, Hank?”

  “I heard nothing,” I frowned.

  “Wolf ears,” Hank said, sitting up, his head cocking, much like a dog listening. His ears twitched ever so slightly. “Something's outside.”

  “Stay with her,” Veronica hissed, grabbing her gun and standing up.

  “What is it?” I asked, hugging myself as a shudder went through me.

  “I don't know,” Hank whispered. He drew his gun, holding it low, his thumb flicking off the safety.

  Veronica stalked to the front door, her bare feet padding silently on the hardwood floors. She placed each step with care, moving with a deliberate stealth—a hunter stalking her prey. Her ears twitched, and her green eyes seemed to glow, reflecting back the light.

  Like a wolf.

  I swallowed.

  Veronica reached the front door. The door knob twisted. Hank moved into the hallway, his gun raised, ready to cover Veronica. I ducked behind him. The door creaked as Veronica opened it, the hallway light flooding out into the darkness, illuminating the pine trees.

  Wind gusted and the trees creaked.

  Lord, watch over her, I prayed as Veronica stepped out onto the porch. Her head turned, scanning the night, her gun moving with her gaze. Hank seized the door knob, pushing it closed, then twisted the deadbolt with a click.

  “What if she needs to get back in?” I hissed at Hank.

  “It's probably nothing,” Hank said. “But if it is, our job is to protect you. That's what Forrest wants. He's our pack leader.”

  I shook as I huddled, feeling utterly useless. My skin itched, my lower back ache returned, my heart squeezed by fear, and my breath came in quick, ragged gasps. My night shirt clung to my sweaty body. I wished Forrest was here. I would be so safe.

  The TV blared from the living room. The werewolf howling in that stupid movie. Why did we leave it on? A woman screamed, loud and cheesy. What if it was masking Veronica's screams? I glanced over my shoulder at the stupid thing.

  Hank still faced the front door, his gun drawn, concentrating with his shifter senses. I had to turn it off. I crept at a half crawl back into the den. The remote was on the arm of the recliner. I grabbed it, clicking the off button.

  The room darkened as the screen went black. Silence smothered down on me. I strained to hear. The faint creak of trees and the cry of the wind drifted through the house's walls. Above, the house creaked as it settled. My heart labored in my chest. Hank breathed.

  A gunshot cracked.

  I jumped, yelping in surprise.

  “Fuck,” Hank cried. “Kotie, grab a radio from one of our belts.

  A second gunshot popped and a third, each loud, splitting through the silence of the night. My hand shook as I reached out for Veronica's belt, fumbling to pull her radio out. I yanked out the blocky, thick rectangle of plastic, the rubber antenna bobbing, and scampered back to hank. He reached behind him with his free hand, seizing the radio.

  With a practice twist of his thumb, the radio crackled to life. He pressed a button, the radio beeped, and he shouted, “6503 Miner's Drive, officer in distress, 6503 Miner's Drive!”

  The garbled, squawking response was drowned out by the front door exploding in a shower of splinters. Something huge, furred, and hulking barreled through the ruined door. A growling snarl roared from the beast.

  “Fuck!” Hank shouted, dropping the radio to aim his gun.

  The hulk smashed into him, throwing Hank back into me. I screamed in terror, stumbling back as Hank caught himself on the wall. A black-furred bear snarled at Hank, raising its clawed paw up.

  “Run, Kotie!” Hank shouted as the pa
w descended.

  Blood spurted. The claws raked down Hank's chest. The cop screamed as he fell. He aimed his gum, red staining the front of his beige uniform. The bear swiped the gun as it discharged, the shot going wide.

  “Dammit, Kotie, run!” Hank screamed.

  Panic seized me. There was no thought but getting to Forrest. I had no control over my body. I just had to run. I scrambled up, my bare feet slapping on the hardwood floors. I reached the stairs, racing up them before I realized how monumentally stupid that was. I raced down the second floor hallway into Forrest's room.

  His scent lingered here. That wonderful, manly musk of sweat and leather, strength and vitality, filled my nose. I needed Forrest. I screamed for him in my mind as I wormed beneath his wide bed. An irrational thought pounded through my mind. This was Forrest's room. I would be safe here.

  The bear snarled downstairs.

  I shivered, trying to calm my breathing and think. Why did I run upstairs? I was trapped now. I should have went out the back door. Why, why, why did I do this?

  The stairs creaked. The bear was coming upstairs. I wanted to scream in fear.

  So I clamped my hands over my mouth.

  Footsteps padded down the hallway. Doors banged open. The bear searched. I wormed further back beneath the bed. I could see the hallway. A shadow moved. Coming closer. Searching the bathroom now. The shower curtain rattled.

  Forrest's bedroom would be the next place to check.

  Feet appeared in the doorway. Bare and stained with dirt and blades of grass, slim and feminine. Beige trousers clad the legs. I let out a relieved breath. It was Veronica. She must have driven off the bear or something.

  “I'm here,” I whispered in a squeak, worming my way out from beneath the bed. “I'm so glad you're...”

  Veronica's face was a rictus of pain, twisting like she fought against an assailant. Her hands shot out, grasping me by the neck and shoving me down on the bed. What was going on? Her green eyes stared down at me and...

  They pleaded with me. Veronica wasn't controlling herself. She had been possessed by something.

  By Christian. For a moment, yellow strings flashed into being, leading out of the room, the ends buried in Veronica's flesh.

  “Fight, please,” I choked, my hands grabbing hers, trying to pry her fingers from about my neck. “You're strong, Veronica.”

  Her jaw tried to move, trying to form words. But Christian's magic was too strong. He possessed Veronica. My back ached as she pinned me to the bed. I thrashed, my feet kicking at her, trying to push her away.

  “You can fight,” I told her. “You're strong.”

  “No, she's not,” Christian said as he strode into the bedroom. “Luce dei miei occhi, it is good to see you.”

  “I'm not your light,” I hissed as Veronica yanked me to my feet.

  “Yes, you are,” Christian grinned, twisting his handsome face into a foul visage. He tossed Veronica a pair of handcuffs, blood staining his fingertips. “Can't you feel our connection? Don't you feel how wonderful and special this place is? This is where we belong. Together we shall possess the power of Moonrise.”

  I struggled as Veronica easily manhandled me. Her body obeyed Christian even as tears trickled down her cheeks. She was a cop. She knew how to arrest a struggling woman. I fought anyways, screeching my rage as Veronica flipped me around, pulling my right arm behind my back and slapping the cuffs on.

  “Please fight it, Veronica!” I cried.

  “Such power you possess,” Christian breathed, his voice almost ecstatic. “I can feel it pouring off of you.”

  “What?” I gasped. I have power?

  “Together, Kotie, we shall plumb the mysteries of Moonrise. Together, we shall amass such power.”

  “You sound like some cheesy villain,” I groaned as Veronica pulled my left arm behind my back, the handcuff ratcheting.

  Christian strode forward, his blood-stained finger caressing my cheek. I shuddered, sullied by his touch. “Mi amore,” he purred.

  “I'm not your love!” I hissed and spat in his face.

  He chuckled. “Once we taste the power of the spring, you won't care about that pathetic Sheriff. You'll be beyond him.”

  “You think I'll just fall in love with you?” I snorted. “You think I'll be yours? I won't. You can hurt me, but you'll never possess me.”

  He shrugged, reaching in his coat pocket to pull out his gun. “We'll see.” He pointed the gun at Veronica's face.

  “No!” I shrieked. My hands were bound behind my back. All I could do was headbutt his arm. My auburn hair flew behind me as I slammed my forehead down onto his arm as the gun barked.

  Veronica groaned in pain, falling back on the bed. Blood spread from her belly, staining her beige blouse.

  “No, no, no!” I shrieked.

  “Not the quick death I would have given her,” laughed Christian. “But if you want her to bleed out slowly, mi amore.” He threw the gun to the ground and seized my arm, yanking me away.

  “I'm...sorry...” Veronica coughed, struggling to rise on the bed. “I tried...to...fight...”

  “Bastard!” I screamed. “You fuckin' bastard. Forrest is gonna rip your body apart! And I'll be there to watch.”

  Christian laughed. “He's miles away. At the fire. By the time he realizes anything has happened, we'll have the power of the spring.”

  Hurry, Forrest. You need to hurry.

  Christian dragged me downstairs. I kicked at him, trying to trip him up on the stairs. His shin bone almost broke my toe. He laughed, not caring one bit. Hank lay in the hallway. His breath was a wet wheeze as he lay in puddle of his blood, his torso torn by the bear's claw.

  What happened to the bear? My eyes fell on Christian's bloody fingertips.

  “You're the bear,” I gasped as Christian stepped over his prostrate form.

  “Shapechange and teleportation are my talents,” Christian answered. “I like to turn into a bear. Such primal, powerful creatures.” He glanced at me. “Your magic is more defensive. I tried to control your flesh...” He shrugged.

  “But I fought you off. “

  “It's curious that you don't understand your powers, but you have a totem.”

  “A what?” I asked.

  “Your tramp stamp,” he laughed as he pulled me into the night. “A totem to focus your magic. Don't you feel it burning right now?”

  My back did ache. It's been hurting all night. If Christian was right, then I could fight back.

  I just needed to figure out how to use my magic.

  Chapter Ten: Tears of the Moon

  Christian threw me into the backseat of Veronica's cruiser. I gasped in pain, struggling to sit up as he slammed the door. It was hard with my hands behind my back. I yanked myself up, glowering as Christian climbed into the driver seat and started up her car.

  “I can feel your glare,” he laughed. “If looks could kill, I'm sure I would be a puddle of melted flesh. But you'll understand soon, luce dei miei occhi.”

  “Stop calling me that,” I hissed. “I'm not your light. I'm Forrest's.”

  “Once you've had your first taste of power, you'll find that such emotions pale. You'll crave more power. Trust me. We shall love each other tonight, basking in the power we absorb. There is no high greater. It will sweeten the sex like nothing else.”

  “Why do you even need me?” I demanded as he drove. “Why don't you just take the power for yourself?”

  “My talents are not in channeling energy,” he shrugged. “But you. I recognized your talents when I laid eyes on you. You're perfect. That's why kismet led us together. You can channel and I can harness. Neither of us can utilize the spring apart, but together...it was meant to be, mi amore.”

  “You're deluded.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. But the power is real. Once you see the spring, you'll feel the power. You'll believe me.”

  “I've been there. And I won't channel the power. You can't make me.”

  “I can,
” he answered.

  “How?” I demanded.

  “I'll kill you if you don't, mi amore.”

  I shuddered. He spoke with no hesitation or feeling. His voice was cold.

  “I would hate to destroy such a gorgeous creature so needlessly,” he sighed. “I would hate to lose out on the power. But I will kill you.”

  “If you kill me, then you won't get it,” I laughed, hoping my bravado would deter him. “And I won't help you.”

  “Are you so eager to die?”

  “Yes. I won't be another man's prisoner. I won't be used again.”

  “But life is so sweet. Will you still have this resolve when you're staring death in the eye? Or will your instincts to survive compel you to surrender?”

  Please, hurry, Forrest.

  He was on his way. I knew it in my heart. Hank had gotten out the warning. Forrest was racing across Moonrise to save me. He would track my scent. He would find me. I just need to stall Christian for as long as possible.

  “This is pointless,” I told him. “You'll kill me and then you'll have to face Forrest. He already drove you off once.”

  “He surprised me,” Christian shrugged. “I managed to wound him before I retreated. And this time, I'm prepared for your werewolf.”

  “You're not. Once I'm dead, he'll hunt you down. There will be no escape from his anger. There is no way for you to win.” Please, please believe that. Just abandon this stupid plan. “You've already injured two of his pack. You'll be lucky to escape his fury if you let me go.”

  “But if I do, you'll be kind enough to convince the brute not to chase me,” Christian laughed. “Do you think I'm naive? The only way I survive this mess is by seizing the power. I accept that. I love you, Kotie, but I will not hesitate to hurt you to get what I need.”

  “That doesn't sound like love,” I sneered. “That sounds like you're a possessive asshole.”

  “Love, possessiveness, it's all the same. Kismet has given you to me, Kotie, and I will do with you as I please. If need be, I will leave you broken and discard you for another tool. So be smart. Be mine fully and help me get this power. The rewards will be worth it.”