“You could say that.” Cormac leaned back, unconcerned.
Kess gritted her teeth. He could at least act disappointed. Maybe they weren’t in the best place after all. “Blew a gasket, did he?” Her voice sounded a little frosty to her own ears.
Cormac grinned hugely, doing a fair imitation of the Cheshire Cat. “You are so easy,” he said, leaning forward. “I’m not leaving anytime soon.” He paused, clearly relishing the stunned look on her face. “In fact, I’m not leaving until you do.”
“Wha…how?” She was having a hard time forming full sentences, let alone coherent thought. “I don’t….”
“Wow. That’s incredibly well-spoken.” He ducked when she aimed a smack at his head. “I’m staying.”
Kess wasn’t given to huge outward displays of affection in public, but this time she felt an exception was called for. She squealed and launched herself across the table, grabbing him in a fierce hug. He caught her and pressed a kiss into her neck. They clung together over the table, until the awkwardness of their position made them break apart.
“I guess asking if you’re okay with it is kind of moot.” Cormac winked at her.
“Okay? Of course, it’s okay! It’s beyond okay, edging into the realm of fan-freakin’-tastic!” Kess couldn’t stop smiling. “But what about classes and school?”
“I’ll transfer.” He took her hands back in his. “I’ve already got the paperwork—I started it as soon as I went back home at the end of the summer. I was just waiting to see…,” he trailed off, a dark look fleeting across his face.
Kess squeezed his hand. “Hey,” she said, ducking her head a little so she could look into his eyes. “We’re okay now.”
He squeezed back. “I know.”
“How did you convince your dad to let you leave?” Kess knew his father’s feelings about Cormac becoming the Alpha and his need to stay in North Carolina. This was a coup of monumental proportions.
“I think he knew it was coming.” He stopped for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “You remember how I said I wanted to get out of the mountains?”
Kess nodded. It was on one of their very first real dates. He’d talked about his love of architecture and how he wanted to build more than just mountain houses for wealthy vacationers. She knew he’d always wanted to travel and see different places. It didn’t mean that he didn’t want to go back to the mountains; it just meant he wanted some time away.
Cormac continued. “Well, I told my dad all of that. We had a really good talk. And, after a lot of back and forth, he agreed that it would be a good idea to see what you guys were doing down here.” Kess beamed at him. “That doesn’t mean I won’t be going back to see them. Mom pretty much threatened grievous bodily harm if we aren’t back up there for Thanksgiving and Christmas. And Lenore will skin me and make a rug out of me if I don’t bring Rafe with me.”
“Of course!” Kess could think of nothing better than spending the holidays with his family, Alpha included. “I need to check in with Griff anyway. See if he needs any help at the Barn while I’m up there.” Kess had worked as a server for Finn and Burke’s father during her time in the mountains. She sometimes missed the work. She definitely missed the people.
Cormac shook his head, opening his mouth to say something, when the server slapped two groaning plates dwarfed by the sandwiches they held in front of them. Kess watched his eyes widen at the size of the Reuben he’d ordered. “Holy crap,” he breathed.
“Told you they were worth it,” she said smugly.
He picked up one of the halves and tried to negotiate getting it into his mouth without making a huge mess. Kess giggled; everyone did that their first time here. There really was no neat way to eat these sandwiches—the piles of meat alone made it impossible. Finally Cormac gave up and took a huge bite of his sandwich, closing his eyes in bliss as he chewed.
“Not bad, huh?” she asked when he opened his eyes again.
He swallowed, washing it down with a gulp of Coke. “Even if you weren’t here, the sandwiches alone would be worth the move.”
“Hey!” she cried, mock offended. “You can’t snuggle with a sandwich!”
“With this one, I’d try.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Finn was lounging on the couch in the guest house playing Modern Warfare while Laila mocked him when someone knocked at the door. “Come on in!” he shouted over the sound of a car blowing up.
“Hello?” Kess called from the front door. “You guys decent?”
Finn opened his mouth to say something crass, but a quelling look from Laila silenced him. “Yeah,” Laila called back. “I’m watching Finn making an ass of himself playing a video game.”
Kess stepped into the room, a frown on her face. “Rafe sent me to tell you that the Ducati is leaking oil.”
“What?!” Finn paused the game mid-shot and bounded up from the sofa. “How bad?”
Kess shrugged. “He was helping me carry in some boxes I needed to go through when he noticed it. He sent me to get you right away.”
“Damn it,” Finn muttered, heading out the door. Kess and Laila followed at a slower pace.
He’d been meaning to have someone look at the motorcycle for a few weeks now. It was still running fine, but he’d never had a machine like it and he knew he wasn’t up to the maintenance on the thing. If it was enough for Rafe to notice on the cement of the driveway’s floor, that was a bad sign.
He barreled through house, intent on his destination. He wondered how much something like a leak would cost to fix. He honestly had no idea—the dirt bikes he was used to riding around on were not what anyone would consider high performance machines, usually getting wrecked before annual maintenance could be performed on them. He and his brother were hard on dirt bikes.
“Did anything else look wrong with it?” he called back to Kess.
“How should I know? All I saw was that it was standing upright.” She threw her hands in the air. “I’m not a mechanic.”
“Is it really that big of a deal?” Laila asked in a bored voice.
He almost whirled on her, but decided that would take precious time away from seeing what was wrong with his baby. Finn wasn’t sure when he got so attached to the motorcycle, but he thought of it as his now. He managed to grit out, “Yeah, it’s a big deal,” before putting on more speed as he closed on the door that led to the garage.
He flung the door open, stepping into the garage. With a wet squelch, something soft, sticky, and chocolate flowed down over the top of his head. A bucket bounced off his head with a hollow thunk. Finn stood there for a moment, the feeling of cold pudding sliding down his skin making it difficult to talk.
Rafe laughed from his seat on the ground, snapping a picture with his camera phone. “HA!” the werehyena crowed. “I told you payback was a bitch!”
Cormac’s deep rumble of laughter caught Finn’s attention. His cousin stood leaning against a corner shelving unit. “Did you have anything to do with this?” Finn accused.
Cormac shook his head, holding up his hands. “Nope. Rafe just asked me if I wanted to see something funny.”
Finn turned an angry eyeball to Rafe. “Chocolate pudding, huh?” He took an experimental lick of the goop that coated his forearm. “So nothing’s wrong with my bike?”
“It’s perfectly fine, you big baby,” Rafe answered.
“Here,” Kess said, having finally caught up to him. She handed him an old towel. “You’re going to need this.”
Finn accepted it and began trying to get the pudding off of him. The towel wasn’t doing much aside from smearing it around. He’d need to take a shower.
“You’re going to clean up this mess,” Kess warned. “Both of you.” She glared at Finn and then Rafe.
“Fine,” Finn grumped. “Let me just get cleaned up first.”
“What the hell happened to you?” Laila asked, having missed the whole thing because she stopped by the kitchen for a popsicle.
“Ask skinn
y over there,” Finn answered, jerking a thumb in Rafe’s direction. “He and Kess were in cahoots.”
“I was not,” Kess denied. “Rafe told me there was oil leaking from the bike and I should get you to look at it. I had no idea that it was part of another prank.”
Finn didn’t believe her for a second, but he couldn’t prove it. Kess was a very good liar. “You know, this means war,” the werewolf groused, stepping back into the house to try and get the pudding out of his hair.
“Hey Finn,” Rafe shouted after him. “I think the word you’re looking for is Gotcha.” His high-pitched hyena like laughter followed after Finn as the werewolf stomped down the hall.
Chapter Forty-Six
It was the middle of the night; check that, it was early morning. Laila patrolled the grounds of Kess’ house, jogging between the guesthouse and the pool, then around to the front of the house and back again. She couldn’t sleep; she was too keyed up. Sebastian had told her that they’d be leaving tomorrow, and she had no idea of the reception she’d receive from her parents. She hoped they weren’t too disappointed in her.
Everything still felt strange, although the hollow emptiness she’d felt at her core had faded. Getting to say goodbye to Mebis had helped, but she still missed him deeply. Sometimes she’d forget he was gone, thinking of how she had a funny story to tell him or news to share. When she realized she’d never get to tell him anything ever again, the wound reopened. Laila knew it would get better, that it would take time, but it didn’t help. She wasn’t exactly the poster girl for patience and restraint.
As she rounded the corner of the house, the flesh on the back of her neck prickled. Someone was here. She pulled a knife from the sheath at her back—Keepers never went unarmed unless they were in animal form—and dropped into a crouch. Laila sidled along the side of the house, poking her head around the corner.
“Boo,” whispered Zamiel, directly in her face.
Only rigid training saved her from crying out in surprise or stumbling backwards. Instead she came to her feet, tucking the knife back into its sheath, then walked away from the demon. There was nothing she had to discuss with it.
“Oh don’t be like that,” he wheedled, following after her. She ignored him. He kept humming along beside her.
“What are you doing here, Zamiel?” she finally asked when he showed no sign of departing and his humming was beginning to drive her around the bend.
“Coming to see you, of course.” He grinned, sharp teeth all present and accounted for.
“Imagine my joy.”
“Ah ah,” he chided, shaking his finger at her. “No more of that or I won’t give you my prezzie.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him, not believing what she was hearing.
“Too precious?” the demon asked.
“Just a little,” she answered drily.
He took something out of his pocket. Laila wondered how he got anything into those pockets with how skintight the suit was, but she decided she was better off not knowing. With Zamiel, most things she was better off not knowing.
He opened his palm with a flourish. “A gift for you,” he said. A chain dropped from his hand, at the end of which swung a black stone.
It was the necklace Lukas had been wearing before he died. Why on earth would she want that? “No thanks,” she said, moving away from him. A demon’s gift came with strings. She’d paid enough already.
“I have no further use for it. It’s yours. Keep it, give it away, throw it in the ocean—it doesn’t matter much to me. I just wanted you to have something to remember me by.” He smiled, and it was almost a leer. “So you’ll think of me. Just like I’ll be thinking of you.”
Laila spun, grabbing two throwing knives from the braces on each leg and tossing them at Zamiel’s chest, but he had already disappeared. She was sick of the demon’s games. She knew she wasn’t going to come anywhere near hitting him, and even if she did, the knives would have no effect on him, but the action made her feel better anyway. Having an infernal stalker wasn’t nearly as exciting as some romance novelists would lead one to believe.
Something shimmered in the grass where he’d stood. She Laila reached out and picked up the chain and stone. It was warm against her palm. Slowly she walked back to the guesthouse, contemplating the best thing to do with it. Zamiel had said she could keep it or give it away. She certainly didn’t want it.
Laila climbed back into bed beside Finn, the stone still in her hand. It had grown warmer as she approached the bed; now it burned against her palm like a small sun. She looked down on it in surprise, wondering why it was heating up. What did it mean?
She moved her palm—and the necklace—closer to Finn, nodding when the stone grew even hotter. Laila wasn’t sure, but she thought this might be the way Lukas had determined someone was a were. It would require some more testing, preferably on someone who wasn’t, which left out everyone in this house, but if she was right, Laila might just have the solution to a problem that Finn and the rest had been worrying over for months.
“Hey, Finn,” she whispered in his ear, shaking his shoulder. “I’ve got something for you…”
Acknowledgements
Again, enormous thanks to my critique partners: Melissa Marr and Tracey Peake, and to my Beta reader, Nancy Potanovic. As always, you rock.
To Woman with a Red Pen--thank you for editing my books and being a joy to work with! And thanks to Char Adlesperger for all of my gorgeous covers. They would not be half so lovely without your amazing work.
To everyone who has supported me and continues to support me every day with your wit, your kind words, and your infinite snark: thank you, thank you, thank you. And Infinite Snark is the name of my new band. Look out for it.
About the Author
Jeanette Battista graduated with an English degree with a concentration in medieval literature which explains her possibly unhealthy fixation on edged weapons and cathedral architecture. She spent a summer in England and Scotland studying the historical King Arthur, which did nothing to curb her obsession. To satisfy her adrenaline cravings--since sword fighting is not widely accepted in these modern times--she rode a motorcycle at ridiculously high speeds, got some tattoos, and took kickboxing and boxing classes. She gave up the bike when her daughter came along, although she still gets pummeled at the gym on a regular basis.
When she’s not writing or working, Jeanette spends time with family, hikes, reads, makes decadent brownies, buys killer boots, and plays Pocket Frogs. She wishes there were more hours in the day so she could actually do more of these things. She lives with her daughter and their ancient, ill-tempered cat in North Carolina.
You can read more about her and her books at http://www.jeanettebattista.com.
Follow her:
Twitter: @Battista_j
Facebook: http://facebook.com/pages/jeanettebattista
Blog: http://jb_writing.livejournal.com
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twe
nty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Hunter Moon (The Moon Series) Page 22