To Crave a Blood Moon

by Sharie Kohler

  She rolled Sebastian side-to-side, whimpering, rubbing out the flames despite the hurt she felt in touching him. So much hurt.

  “What are you doing?” the voice growled beside her again, mingling with the cock of a gun beside her head. The scent of silver reached her from inside the chamber. Still, she worked over Sebastian, uncaring.

  How could she fear for herself when Sebastian was in this much pain?

  Words tripped from her in a dizzying spill. “Sebastian… don’t die, don’t die on me. I can’t lose you. I can’t. I don’t want to be alone again!”

  “Good God,” the dovenatu spat out. The soft click of the hammer lifted from beside her head.

  Steam rose beneath her charred palms, heavy and black, choking in her throat, stinging her tear-filled eyes. Sebastian’s dark gaze burned into her through the smoke, as scalding as his roasting body, the whites blood-red. She read the message there clearly. Go. Run. Get away.

  Suddenly, Adele was there, tossing her a blanket. She wrapped it around him and rolled him harder, rocking him in the ground until she banked the fire and steam wafted above his body. Gasping, she sat back on her heels and hovered over him, her throbbing hands suspended for a moment, taking a moment.

  Swallowing, she touched him again. Because she had to. No matter how much more she would feel his agony doing so. She had to. She jerked when she made contact with his flesh, slippery beneath her taloned fingers. Raw. Black-charred. Melted sheets of flesh. Every severed nerve-ending screamed. Shrieked. Raw and blistered.

  “Sebastian,” she choked.

  She felt. Felt everything. Killing agony. His heart beat slowed, skipped and sank into a skittery thread. “We’ll get you to a hospital.”

  Crouching protectively beside Sebastian, she tossed the other dovenatu a glare. He stared down at her, his light eyes cool and glittery, as if he were trying to figure something out. As if he was trying to make sense of her. Indecision warred on his features.

  Maybe because she realized it might matter, she whispered in her thick, garbled voice, “Please.”

  It was as if the single word struck him some place deep and buried. Forgotten. He gave a small jerk and blinked. His eyes altered, looked different then. Less glittery. Calm. His chest lifted on a deep sigh. “Forget this,” he muttered so softly she could barely hear him.

  Shaking his blond head, he shrugged one shoulder as though they were nothing to him and reholstered his weapon. “A hospital can do nothing for him.”

  A growl erupted from deep in her chest, the sound emerging with a will of its own. “Thanks to you.”

  He cocked his head, studying her intently. “He was right about you.” His gleaming gaze slid down her blistered arms and hands before flicking to Sebastian’s smoking body. “You’re different. You both…” His voice faded and he shook his head harder.

  His face transformed, shifted back into pretty-boy good looks. He turned then, his voice floating on the night as he walked away. “Keep him in bed. Give him nourishment. It’s all you can do.” At the edge of the trees, he stopped.

  “And then what?” she called, straining anxiously over Sebastian’s body, staring at the dovenatu’s broad back.

  His dark blond head cocked to the side, turning slightly as though he would turn around. “Wait.” His voice moved on the night, indecipherable if not for her keen hearing. “Take care of him. And wait.” He moved then, so swiftly. One moment he was there, the next gone, vanished into the woods.

  “Ruby!” Adele’s voice jumped beside her. “Are we taking him to the hospital?”

  “No.” Gingerly, she slid her arms beneath Sebastian and lifted him, pain stabbing her everywhere. Her skin, her new body that both frightened and enticed. The pain worse than any agony she’d ever felt.

  And still, beyond that black, killing pain, her heart hurt the most.

  27

  Sebastian swam through a lightless fog. Cloying, thick. Dark weight bearing him down, taking him… killing him. And fire, still. Blood simmered in his veins. He tried to scream. Give voice to a single word, a name. Ruby.

  Did she get away? Was she safe?

  “I’m here. I’m here, Sebastian.”

  He tried to speak, to demand—are you all right?

  His lips parted, cracking flesh. Garbled speech. Something cool and wet ran over his lips, slipping inside his mouth. His swollen tongue moved, lapping, desperate for a taste, for the relief of it.

  “Don’t speak. Drink. Rest. You’re going to be all right, Sebastian. You hear me? You’re alive.”

  Ruby. She was here. She was all right. Nothing else mattered.

  He let the fog take him.

  Ruby pushed the door open with the foot of her shoe and strode inside the room, the edges of the tray clutched tightly in her hands. Sebastian turned from staring out the window, his look of restlessness vanishing at the sight of her. He pushed himself up on the bed.

  “More soup today?”

  She tsked. “A bisque. Not soup.”

  Accepting the tray, he set it on his lap. “I’m fine now, you know.”

  She nodded jerkily, her throat tightening as an image of him consumed in fire flashed across her mind. “You will be. I—”

  “No. I am fine, Ruby.”

  She stilled at the firmness of his voice. Sighing, she sank to the edge of the bed, toying with the comforter’s edge. It had been a week since she carried him into this room, a smoking corpse in her arms. He’d regenerated. His skin, as well as the deep wound in his throat, healed in a matter of days. Still, she insisted he stay in bed, unable to face the fact that once he healed, this was over. They were over. As long as he stayed in bed, she kept some control.

  “I appreciate all you’ve done this last week, Ruby,” he began, lips twisting. “Guess you’ve proven you can take care of yourself. Look at me. You took care of me.” His expression grew grave. “But I’m done playing sick.”

  She offered a weak smile, teasing, trying to pretend she didn’t understand where this was going. “So you mean you want to take your soup downstairs.”

  His gaze held hers, and she felt something wither inside her at the look in his eyes. “I’m healed.”

  Sebastian sucked in a breath, bracing himself after uttering those words. Words that needed to be said. He’d played the invalid long enough to appease her. Appease himself. He recovered days ago. He couldn’t keep the game up any longer. He was healed. And Ruby was fine. Safe. No threat to the world or herself. Her gift would protect her. Her gift. Not him.

  Staring into her wide eyes, into those pools of pewter that did not spell death, he added, “It’s time for me to go.”

  “Go?” she echoed.

  “Yeah. No reason for me to stay.” He tried to say this matter-of-factly. With no question. He wasn’t asking, begging, for her to give him a reason. He could get on alone. Even if staring at her, his heart rising to his throat, he wondered if he could. If he could ever go back to the way he was before, adrift in life… and be okay with it.

  “You were right, Ruby.” He never thought the words would be so hard to get past his lips. “You don’t need me. You can pretty much live your life as you always have.” He shrugged one shoulder. “You’ll shift every moonrise, but you won’t hurt anyone.”

  She nodded. “That’s right. I won’t.” Looking down at him, she asked, “When are you going?”

  “Today.” He glanced to the window, sunlight streaming inside, urging him to move, act. “It’s early yet. I can catch a flight out of Lafayette.”

  “You want me to drive—”

  “I’ll call a car.”

  She nodded. “That’s easy, then.”

  Easy. It was. She didn’t need him and he didn’t need her.

  She glanced down at his tray. “No soup, then?”

  “Bisque,” he corrected, a smile playing on his lips.

  “It’s just soup. No big deal,” she replied, gathering the tray, her movements stiff, her heart aching. “I shouldn’t ha
ve made it out to be something more.”

  He thought he heard something in those words. Something other than talk of soup. He stared hard at her profile, but she didn’t look at him. “I’m glad you’re well, Sebastian. I—I didn’t think you ever would be, after…”

  “We’re resilient creatures. I’m just lucky that that dovenatu didn’t finish me.” He had tried to understand what changed the hybrid’s mind, but could recall little more than the agony of those moments. And Ruby. His sweet savior.

  He watched as she left the room, focusing on her slender back, the darkly shining hair that swayed as she walked.

  He resisted calling her back. That was weakness. She didn’t need him. Didn’t want him. Otherwise, she would have said so. Ever since he had shown up, she had demanded her independence, her solitude—her freedom from him. And he had stayed anyway. Insisted on staying because she needed him.

  Now that excuse no longer flew. And he had to leave.

  While he still could.

  “Your car is here.” The words stuck in her throat as she looked from the window. Swallowing back the dryness in her throat, she wished she’d brought her tea glass with her from the kitchen.

  Adele arched a reddish brow at her as Sebastian’s feet beat a steady tempo down the stairs. Ruby dragged a deep breath. He probably heard Ruby’s heart beating like a sledgehammer in her chest. Adele’s glossy red lips moved, mouthing the words, Do something.

  She cocked her head and glared at Adele in warning before facing Sebastian. There was nothing to do. He was leaving. Naturally. Like she knew he always would.

  Sebastian stopped at the base of the stairs, a gorgeous sight in a black T-shirt and jeans, his short dark hair so soft-looking she longed to run her fingers through it, feel it against her palm. One last time.

  “I hate to say it, Sebastian, but I’ll miss you,” Adele announced, adding with her usual candor, “I didn’t trust you at first.” Her gaze skittered to Ruby. “But I guess you grew on me.”

  Sebastian grinned. “Thanks, Adele.” His smile slipped, his eyes growing serious. “I’m glad Ruby has you.”

  “You bet she does.” Adele looped an arm around Ruby’s shoulders. “Sure you don’t want to stay?”

  Ruby drove her elbow into her friend’s ribs.

  “Ow!”

  “Why don’t you go into the kitchen and check on my tartlets in the oven?”

  With a sigh, Adele sashayed into the kitchen. Ruby stared after her, wishing she’d never called to tell her Sebastian was leaving. Adele had shown up on her doorstep, insisting that she needed to see him leave for herself. As if she somehow doubted it happening.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Your car is here.” The driver’s footsteps receded on the porch. “Guess you need to get going.”

  “Yeah.” He slung his bag over his shoulder.

  “Are you sure you’re well enough—”

  “Ruby. I’m fine.”

  She gave a jerky nod and moved toward the door. Holding it open, she faced him, determined to feel nothing… not the panic rising inside her at never seeing him again. Not anything he might feel over leaving her. If he felt anything. That would be the worst of it. To learn that he felt nothing.

  Carefully keeping her guard in place, she lifted her chin. “Thank you, Sebastian. For everything. What you did for me…” She swallowed. How could she put it into words? “I doubt I’d still be alive without you.”

  “Yeah.” His mouth twisted. “I think you would. As you’ve said from the start, you don’t need me.”

  But I want you.

  His deep voice continued, “You can take care of yourself.” Something lurked in his dark gaze… the faintest question. Hope?

  She nodded, face hot. Did she want him? Yeah. Sure, she did. He was her first lover. A shudder racked her. And there would be no one else. “I can. I’ll be safe.”

  “Good.” His lips formed a single hard line. “That’s all I ever wanted for you.”

  She shifted one foot, as though to step forward and hug him. Catching herself, she stopped. Better not touch him. And a chaste farewell hug? As if they were mere acquaintances? No way. She couldn’t bear it.

  “Goodbye, Ruby.”

  “Bye, Sebastian.” He moved away then.

  She watched, chest unbearably tight.

  His back to her, he paused beneath the threshold.

  She held her breath, not letting it go. Never dropping her barriers. Never letting herself feel. Herself or him.

  Just go, Sebastian. Go before I make a fool of myself and beg you to stay.

  With a curse, he whirled around and hauled her against him. A cry escaped her. Molded chest to chest, his mouth burned against her lips, devouring her in a kiss that was meant to last. Forever.

  Then it was over. He was gone.

  On shaking knees, she watched him stride to the waiting car in a long-legged stride. Without glancing back, he climbed into the back seat. She clutched the edge of the door so hard her nail splintered. Behind the tinted windows, he was a shadow. Impossible to see, to know if he even looked at her, staring after her like she stared after him.

  Raspy breath fell from her lips as she closed the door, closed herself. Locked herself away where she couldn’t feel anything at all.

  Adele emerged from the kitchen, her expression questioning. She glanced to the door, then gave a small shake of her head. “You actually let him go? I didn’t think you would, actually. Didn’t think you could.”

  “He wasn’t mine to keep, Adele,” she snapped. “Besides, he wanted to go—”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because he left!” Her voice vibrated with hot emotion. He left. Like they all did. Her father. Even her mother. It was just too hard to love her.

  Adele was silent a moment before saying, “Did you ask him to stay?”

  She crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “I don’t want him to stay.”

  “Yeah.” She snorted. “Right.”

  “My life is fine. Almost like it was before I ever left on that awful trip—”

  “And that’s a good thing? You want it that way? That awful trip finally woke you up, shook you from your cocoon. Found you someone who loves you, if you would just see it. How many men suffer what he did for a woman they don’t love?”

  “He’s an honorable man.”

  “This is such shit.” Adele grabbed her handbag from the bench near the door. “I need to go. I’ve got a date. Unlike you, I want Mr. Right to walk into my life. And when he does, I won’t let him walk out.” One hand on the doorknob, Adele hesitated, and tossed her a sad smile. “Call you tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Of course you will.” The door shut with a reverberating thud.

  She shifted and rubbed her nose. What did Adele know? She was wrong. Ruby didn’t need anyone. She made certain of that. Made certain she was strong enough to manage on her own.

  She had her home. Work she enjoyed. She didn’t need anything else. Or anyone. And for one moment, as her legs moved in angry strides through the living room, she almost believed that.

  28

  From the car window, Sebastian watched as Ruby disappeared back inside the house. His gut in knots, he turned and gazed blindly at the back of the front seat. Soon, tall pines whipped past… and he wondered, marveled at what the hell he was doing leaving such a huge part of himself behind in that house.

  He leaned with the car as the road curved, fingers tapping his knee anxiously. Returning to his old life . . . but who was he kidding? It wasn’t something he wanted anymore. Not without Ruby.

  He loved the woman—the lycaness. Maybe she didn’t feel the same about him, but he could at least tell her, convince her she loved him, too. That they belonged together. Maybe more than any two souls did. Once, he would have said they were both aberrations of mankind, creatures that should never have come into existence. All his life he hated what he was… because his mother had taught him he
should. Then Ruby happened. Even if against his will, she had become something he always hated. Even more than himself.

  And he loved her.

  The very thing he spent a lifetime hating and hunting and killing. If he could love her, then maybe he wasn’t something to be held in contempt either. Ruby deserved love, happiness and all that life offered. Didn’t he deserve the same, too? Didn’t he deserve her?

  Dragging a hand over his face, he bit out in a hard voice, “Driver, stop. Stop the car.”

  Ruby paused, the flat of her hand resting on the kitchen’s swinging door, exerting only the slightest pressure as the panic set in, rising high in her throat, suffocatingly thick as it dawned in her that Sebastian had left. Was gone. Forever.

  She didn’t need him.

  But she wanted him. Oh, God.

  She may not need him, but she wanted him. Loved him. Loved him. Loved him.

  She had been too scared to find out whether he could love her. Whether he would walk away like everyone else, preferring another life—any other life—to one with her.

  Her eyes jammed tight in a fierce blink, the tears burning, spilling through, hot liquid on her cheeks. She opened them to a blurred world. A world that she had never seen so clearly before.

  She wanted him.

  Before she could stop to think, before she let stubbornness and fear stop her, she moved. Spinning around, she rushed to the door. Yanking it open, she staggered onto the porch with a hoarse cry. Leaves scuttled across the lonely yard. Legs suddenly weak, she clutched a porch post, staring ahead, seeing nothing. Seeing everything.

  My God, what did I do?

  Her fingers flexed weakly over the post as she looked out at the empty space. He was gone.

  She let him go.

  More hot tears slid down her cheeks. A sob scalded the back of her throat. Idiot. She didn’t have any way of knowing where he went. She couldn’t find him. Couldn’t tell him what she just figured out.

  She loved him.

  Wind whispered through the trees, rustling the tall tops, and she felt it move through her, a cold, lonely wind that chilled her from the inside out.