Beneath a Blue Moon (Crescent City Wolf Pack Book 2)

by Carrie Pulkinen

  Shaking her head and suppressing a smile, Snow uncrossed her arms. “If you’re that worried about him, hon, go check on him. I’m sure someone at the bar knows where he is.”

  Rain gripped the contract in her left hand, wrinkling the pages, as she gnawed on her right pinkie nail. “Do you think I should?”

  “You’re not going to have any fingernails left if you don’t.”

  Yanking her finger from her mouth, she examined her hand. She’d already chewed the first three nails down to nubs, and it was only ten o’clock. “You’re right. I should. It will give me peace of mind.”

  Snow stopped fighting her smile. “And it will show him how much you care.”

  She did care, more than she wanted to. But her emotions didn’t matter when he’d have to risk his life to be with her. She’d go to the bar, make sure he was okay, and then she’d shove her feelings for the sexy werewolf into the back of her mind and keep them there until the wedding was over. Then she’d forget about him.

  Forget about breaking her curse. Willingly giving her his blood would be the kindest thing he could do, and he’d be met with the worst punishment possible…if he hadn’t already. It was time to stop pretending she could have any kind of relationship with Chase…romantic or friendly. “I’ll be back soon.”

  “Take your time,” Snow sang.

  The sun warmed her skin, chasing away the chill in the air, as she strode up Royal and made a left on St. Philip. She walked with purpose, ignoring her surroundings, anxiety tightening her muscles as her long strides carried her toward the bar. Something was wrong; she could feel it in her core.

  A stream of cold water pelted her from above, jerking her from her thoughts, and she squealed. Jumping out of the way, she peered up to find a man watering a row of ferns hanging from a second-story gallery. The pots swung in the breeze from their wrought-iron hooks, and the man waved and shouted, “Sorry.”

  Rain forced a smile and returned his wave before continuing her trek to the bar. She’d passed by O’Malley’s Pub plenty of times since she moved to New Orleans, but she’d never ventured inside. With her hand on the doorknob, she inhaled a deep breath and braced herself. With any luck, Chase would be behind the bar, a smile lighting up his handsome face as she entered the room.

  But luck never was on her side.

  As she stepped through the threshold, a crisp curtain of air blasted her skin. She made her way toward the bar, and a woman with light-brown hair and bright blue eyes greeted her.

  “Welcome to O’Malley’s. What can I get you?”

  Rain gripped the edge of the bar. “Is Chase here?”

  The woman tilted her head, studying her. “Are you Rain, the baker?”

  “Yes.” Her heart thrummed. Had Chase talked about her? Was that why the woman assumed she was Rain?

  The woman smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Amber. Luke is my brother.”

  Why was she giving her such a curious look? “It’s nice to meet you too.”

  Amber wiped her hands on a dish rag. “Chase is at home. He got a nasty snake bite while he was hunting. Knocked him on his ass.”

  Icy tendrils of dread spiraled up her spine to squeeze her heart. Her curse had gotten him too. “Is he…will he recover?”

  She shrugged. “Werewolves are fast healers. Must have been one hell of a snake, though. I’ve never seen him take this long to recover from an injury.”

  She lowered herself onto a barstool. He was hurt because of her. She had to see him…to do something to make this right. “I don’t suppose you could tell me where he lives, so I could drop by and check on him?”

  Amber grinned as she scribbled his address on a green Post-It Note. “I think he would love that. Here.” She handed her the paper. “And tell him I said ‘change is good.’”

  “Okay.” Rain gave her a quizzical look. Was that some kind of werewolf code?

  “He’ll know what I’m talking about.”

  Chase lay on the couch, flipping channels on the TV and cursing himself for falling into the water. The pounding in his head had subsided to a dull ache, and his vision had finally cleared, but at the rate he was healing, he’d be useless for another twelve hours minimum.

  His mom had stayed with him yesterday while Emma went to school and Bekah worked, but he’d finally convinced the women he’d survive if they left him alone. That didn’t stop his sister from taking an early lunch break to come home and check on him.

  “You’re sure you’re going to be okay if I go back to work?” She refilled the water glass on the end table and rested her hand against his head. “You still feel like crap.”

  “Thanks, I hadn’t noticed.” He didn’t need his sister to tell him what a wuss he was.

  She sank onto the edge of the couch. “You can’t fake feeling better around me. I’m an empath, remember?”

  “You never let me forget.”

  She clutched his ankle, and shoving his sweats up to his knee, she turned his leg from side to side. “You don’t find it strange that the puncture wounds healed when the rest of you is this sick?”

  “Maybe they healed before the venom took effect.” He turned off the TV and dropped the remote next to the water. “Can you get me a beer?”

  Giving his leg a pat, she stood. “You can have a beer when you feel well enough to get off the couch and get it yourself.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Bekah picked up her purse. “Call Mom if you need anything. She’ll be over in a heartbeat.”

  A knock sounded on the door.

  Chase sighed. “Sounds like she couldn’t stay away.”

  Bekah swung open the front door. “Hi. Can I help you?”

  With the door half-open, he couldn’t see the person on the porch, but Rain’s melodic voice melted in his ears like ice cream—sweet and smooth. “Hi. I’m Rain. Is Chase home?”

  “He sure is.” His sister’s evident smile gave her voice a musical quality. “You’ve got a visitor, Chase. Make yourself presentable.”

  As if he could haul his ass off the couch if he wanted to. He wore the same shirt and sweatpants Bekah had changed him into two days ago, and he hadn’t brushed his teeth since before the hunt. Taking a big gulp of water, he swished it around in his mouth, hoping to wash away the grimy feel, and ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

  Hell, maybe his gross appearance would be a good thing. Maybe she’d take one look at him and turn tail and run away. That might be best for both of them.

  Rain tiptoed into the room, chewing on her bottom lip and looking at everything in the area but him.

  “I’ll see you later,” Bekah called as she closed the front door on her way to work.

  When Rain finally looked at him, it felt like the air had been sucked from his lungs. A possessive growl resonated deep inside his soul, and a single word echoed through his head: Mine.

  Holy hell. His wolf had claimed her.

  He expected his mind to reel with dismay or at least a little shock. Instead, the feeling settled in his core like it had been there his entire life, giving him a sense of completeness he’d never felt before.

  She wore skinny jeans and a pink T-shirt with matching Converse, and her hair hung loose, her dark curls tumbling over her shoulders, accentuating her slender neck. As he held her gaze, her stormy eyes shimmered and liquid pooled on her lower lids.

  Damn, how bad did he look? He swallowed the lump from his throat and shoved his wolf’s desires to the back of his mind. “Hey. Thanks for stopping by.”

  She covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” He scooted back on the couch, moving his legs to give her room, trying to keep his face neutral so she wouldn’t notice the pain shooting through his limbs as he moved. “Want to sit?”

  “Um…sure.” Clutching her purse to her chest, she sank onto the edge of the sofa. “I looked for you at the bar. Amber gave me your address.”

  “Did she?” H
e wouldn’t expect anything less of his boss. Between Amber and Luke, they were probably already planning his wedding date.

  “I hope that’s okay.”

  Okay? He felt better being near the woman. He’d had two days to mull over the fact that Rain could be his fate-bound, and no matter how hard he tried to deny it, he couldn’t fight fate. She’d been on his mind every goddamn waking moment since he’d met her. “I’m glad you came. I wanted to call you, but today is the first time it hasn’t felt like swallowing glass to talk.”

  “I’m so sorry. I have something that might help, but…” She clutched her purse tighter.

  “But?”

  She stared at the wall above his head. “It’s a spell. A potion Snow made for you when I told her what happened.”

  “Ah…” A week ago, he wouldn’t have entertained the thought of taking a witch’s potion. Hell, he wouldn’t have entertained a witch in his living room. But now, since Rain was the one offering it…

  She looked at him, the tears sitting on her lower lids beginning to dry without falling. “Why don’t you trust me?”

  “I trust you.” He blinked, his answer surprising both of them as the words tumbled so easily from his lips. It had been hard to admit the truth to Luke, and especially to himself, but the way his wolf reacted to seeing her again confirmed it. She was his fate-bound. It went against his better judgement and everything he’d believed since he was a kid, but he trusted this woman to his core.

  The muscles in her throat flexed as she swallowed. “Then you’ve got something against witches.”

  Rubbing his forehead, he closed his eyes for a long blink. If he planned to follow his fate and let a witch into his life, he might as well tell her the truth. “It’s a long story.”

  “I’ve got time.” She offered him a smile and let her purse drop to the floor.

  Oh, hell. He was doing this. He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. There was no sense in sugar-coating the story. If she knew the whole, messy truth, maybe she could forgive him for his initial mistrust. “I wasn’t born into the pack.”

  Her brow scrunched as she tilted her head. His explanation would be harder than he thought if she didn’t understand how strong the pack bond was.

  He blew out a hard breath. “Do you know what a rogue werewolf is?”

  “I’m guessing it’s someone who doesn’t belong to a pack. Like a lone wolf?”

  “Exactly. We’re pack creatures by nature. We crave the company of others like us, and we stick together. But sometimes we go rogue for various reasons. My parents were rogues.”

  “Why?” She scooted closer to him, her hip brushing against his leg.

  That innocent touch sent a jolt of electricity shooting straight to his heart, easing the incessant ache in his muscles. “My dad had a wild side. Didn’t care much for rules.”

  Her lips parted, but she paused before she spoke. “Had?”

  “He died when I was five. My mom joined the pack because of me. To save me.” A heaviness settled on his shoulders at the memory. When was the last time he’d talked about this?

  “What happened?” Concern emanated from her eyes, and when she rested her hand on his knee, he fought the urge to lace his fingers through hers and bring them to his lips.

  “We lived about a hundred miles northwest of New Orleans in Livonia. There was no pack, very few werewolves around, but even rogues are territorial. We got too close to another rogue’s territory, and he and my dad had it out. Argued for years. When I was five, they got into a bar fight. Before they could take it outside and fight as wolves, one of the rogue’s human friends shot my dad in the head.”

  She squeezed his leg. “Oh, Chase, I’m so sorry.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t really remember him. Mostly things my mom has told me.” He’d always have an ache in his heart that his father had been murdered. That he grew up without the man’s influence. But he didn’t lose sleep over it anymore, and it wasn’t the point of the story.

  He forced a half-smile. “I inherited my old man’s rebellious nature, if you couldn’t tell.”

  “No.” She feigned shock. “The tattoos and piercing don’t give that away at all.”

  He chuckled, and for the first time in two days, it didn’t hurt to laugh. “My mom tried her best, but I was fourteen years old when I got in over my head. A small coven ran most of the town.”

  She moved her hand to her lap, taking the soothing warmth of her touch with her.

  He inhaled deeply, silently wishing she’d touch him again to give him the strength to continue. This was the messy part. “I hung out with a group of kids from the coven, and we got into all kinds of trouble. Kids’ stuff like graffiti, skipping school, you know… Anyway, one night we were hanging out, and they decided to do some kind of ritual that involved fire in the back of a store. We broke in, rearranged the furniture, and I watched them do their thing. They gave me a potion. Said it was the only way for me to participate since I wasn’t a witch.”

  “Did you drink it?”

  He clenched his jaw. “Remember when I said werewolves are pack animals by nature? I’d have done anything to belong. To fit in somewhere.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “I don’t like where this is heading. Did they hurt you?”

  “They tried to. Turns out, I was their sacrifice, and the potion was meant to knock me out. They tried to tie me up. They wanted my blood, and when I refused, they tried take it by force and throw me into the fire.” A shudder ran through his body at the memory of the betrayal. “I’d come into my own magic by then, so I shifted and tore into them like I was fighting for my life.”

  She grimaced. “It sounds like you were.”

  “The fire got out of hand during the fight, and the building burned to the ground. Everyone got out alive, but they were in bad shape.”

  “And you?”

  “Werewolves are fast healers. I didn’t have a scratch by the time I got home, but I got blamed for everything. They claimed I ambushed their sacred ritual and started the fire myself.”

  “Oh, Chase, that’s awful.” She returned her hand to his leg, this time on his thigh.

  “I was arrested for arson and assault. Spent some time in juvenile detention. Parole for a couple of years after that.”

  “And the other kids?”

  “Nothing happened to them. I was blamed for everything.” He laughed again, but he couldn’t force any humor into it. “They covered their tracks with magic. Whether or not their parents bought their story, I don’t know. As soon as I got out of juvenile detention, my mom packed us up and we moved here. She couldn’t handle me on her own, so she sought out the help of the alpha…Luke’s old man at the time. He straightened me out. If not for the pack, I’d either be dead or in jail by now.”

  “Wow.” She stared straight ahead and chewed her lip. “Those kids were practicing black magic, which is forbidden. I hope you don’t hold that against all witches. Most of us are peaceful, goddess-worshipping people.”

  How could he not? “That was my first run-in with witches. I’ve had bad luck with them ever since.”

  “Well…” She shrugged. “Maybe your luck is changing. Oh, that reminds me…Amber said to tell you change is good. She said you’d know what she was talking about.”

  He knew exactly what she was talking about. The beautiful woman sitting on the couch next to him, absently tracing circles on his thigh with her fingers. Did she even realize how intimately she was touching him? It felt so natural having her there, her gentle caress giving him the strength to tell his story.

  She glanced at her hand on his leg and jerked it away. “Where does that leave us then?”

  “I told you I trust you.” He reached for her hand, and she let him take it. Her skin was soft, her unpainted fingernails stained blue around the edges from frosting. The temptation to bring them to his lips to taste them made his mouth water.

  Luke was right; he couldn’t fight fate. Didn’t want to an
ymore. He could set his disdain for witches aside for Rain. His wolf wouldn’t have it any other way, and if he had to swallow a spell to prove he trusted this woman, that’s what he would do. “Tell me about this potion you brought.”

  She held his gaze for a moment before she took a vial of orange liquid from her purse. “It’s a healing spell. It has mango leaves and rue and some other things, and Snow enchanted it with her power. It won’t make you one hundred percent better, but it will speed up the healing.”

  “Give it to me.” He held out his hand.

  She eyed him skeptically. “Seriously?”

  “I already feel better from you being here. If you’re telling me this little bit of liquid will make me heal even faster, I believe you.” Rain would never do anything to hurt him. He felt it in his core.

  The corners of her mouth tugged into a hesitant smile, and she handed him the vial.

  Holding her gaze, he popped out the cork and tossed the liquid back like a shot of tequila, swallowing it all in one gulp. It tasted like honey, and as the potion cascaded down his throat, a cooling sensation spread from his stomach to his limbs.

  Rain’s smile reached her eyes as she took the empty vial and returned it to her purse. “How do you feel?”

  The ache in his legs subsided, and the pressure in his head lightened. “Like it’s cooling me from the inside out.”

  She nodded “Because you’re hot.”

  “Why, thank you.” The widening of her eyes told him she didn’t mean it that way, but he couldn’t stop himself from messing with her. “That’s the second time you’ve told me that.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Bless your heart. You haven’t seen a mirror lately, have you?” She chuckled and patted his knee. “I should let you get some rest.”

  What was it about a quick-witted woman that was so damn sexy? He grabbed her hand, not ready for her to leave. The temptation to pull her to his chest and plant his lips on hers built in his core, but he probably did look like hell, considering how he’d felt the past two days. His breath wouldn’t be any better. “Can I ask you a witch-related question?”