Harvest Moon

by Lisa Kessler

  “What?” I turned his way, frowning. “What’re you talking about?”

  “You went to Brightwood Academy. You’re a psychic of some kind.”

  Now I was connecting the dots. If they knew Nero owned Brightwood, and Nadya was part of their group, they had to know about the criteria you needed to meet in order to get accepted into the school. I shifted in my seat, watching the lights pass by the passenger window.

  “I have a little twinkle.”

  “A twinkle?” He waited, but I didn’t turn to look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Look, I appreciate you helping me, but I hardly know you and I’m not ready to spill my guts to a total stranger. You have secrets, and I have a few, too.”

  He groaned, guttural, almost like a growl. “Fine. Let’s get to know each other, then.”

  “I just want Nero out of my life and then I’ll be out of yours. We don’t need to pretend we’re friends.”

  He wound up a pine-tree-lined private road and finally into the driveway of a slate-gray single-story home with a stone entranceway. The garage door opened and he drove inside, closing the door behind him. He turned off the key before he looked my way.

  “What is it with you? Are you always this stubborn, or is it just that I repulse you?”

  His jaw tightened, clenching his teeth to keep from saying more. He still gripped the steering wheel with one hand, his muscles in his arm tight and distracting.

  Yeah, he didn’t repulse me at all. That was part of the problem.

  “What’s so hard to understand?” I popped my door open, dispersing the fresh, almost wild scent I was starting to associate with him. “From the day we met, you lied to me, just like every other doctor I’ve dated. Forgive me for learning from my past mistakes and protecting myself.”

  “Okay, ask me something that doesn’t have anything to do with my family.”

  “I won’t know if you’re lying.”

  “I think you will.” His bright hazel eyes sparkled in the dim light of the garage.

  “All right.” I had no clue what to ask, and then a vision flashed through my head. Jason in a ring. A boxing ring. Blood trickling from his nose. And then it was gone. My confidence in my visions was wavering. First our naked entwined bodies, and now a boxing ring? The last thing a doctor would get involved in was boxing. They made their living off their brains and their hands, and both took a beating in a boxing ring. Jason was smarter than that. I thought.

  His bruised knuckles twisted on top of the steering wheel as he awaited my question. I swallowed the disbelief and opened my mouth. “How did you really get that cut on your face and the bruises on your hands?”

  He hesitated and rubbed a palm down his face before meeting my eyes. “I’ve been boxing.”

  My jaw threatened to drop wide open. “Why?”

  He shook his head. “There’s not enough time to answer that now.”

  He got out of the car and I followed him inside. His house wasn’t what I expected. There wasn’t opulence or a sense of supremacy in a bookcase lined with leather-bound first-edition books or polished ancient fossils. The décor embraced the grays of the stone fireplace in the center of the room. All the wood was natural pine, not some kind of rare walnut or cherry wood, and his walls weren’t covered in awards and accolades; instead there were black-framed charcoal sketches of wolves.

  I wandered closer to the wall. The drawings were intricate. Each wolf had character, his spirit shining in his eyes. I turned to find Jason behind the bar in the kitchen. “These are amazing. Who’s the artist?”

  He glanced my way as he brought two glasses out of the cupboard. “I used to sketch. It helped me focus my thoughts.”

  “You drew these?” I leaned in closer to the frame like I might find his signature hidden inside. “You missed your calling.”

  He let out a wry laugh as he dropped ice cubes into the glasses. “My family needed a doctor not an artist.”

  Family. He’d given up on a dream for his, and I’d run out on mine. I didn’t even know if Grandma Nani had gotten my warning.

  Who was I to judge this guy? Another brick in my emotional barrier wobbled.

  Chapter Seven

  JASON

  She perused my wall, examining my artwork while I filled two glasses with ice water. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, wondering what was going on in her head. Usually I had an easy rapport with women, but there was no pinning her down.

  It didn’t help that since she’d touched my hand, the wolf inside of me was wide awake and eager to be near her. Coherent thought threatened to slip right through my bruised fingers.

  Just like every other facet of my damned life, I had no control.

  While she was distracted with the wall of wolves, my gaze wandered over her features, memorizing every curve of her face. Exotic and beautiful. And a complete mystery. Her blatant dismissal of doctors made it clear, she’d had her heart broken before, and as irrational and stupid as it was, I wanted to kick his ass for hurting her, for forcing my mate to build this impenetrable emotional barrier.

  My mate. Insanity.

  I came out from the kitchen. “Water?”

  She took it with a hint of a smile. “Thank you.”

  I took a swallow from my glass and noticed her bare feet. Her sandals sat next to the front door. Not that I was married to shoes, but unless I was in the shower, I usually had them on. Seeing her tanned feet and ruby red toenails seemed intimate in a way. And incredibly foreign to me.

  “Does the turtle symbolize something?” The sound of my own voice shocked me. Jesus, I’d blurted the question out loud. What was it about this woman that made me lose my shit around her?

  She looked puzzled, staring up at me for a second before realization dawned. Looking down at her ankle, she pulled her pant leg up a little higher to expose the entire tattoo. “He’s a honu. I’m from Hawaii. The sea turtle is my family’s aumakua, our protector.”

  She’d shared something personal. Holy shit. I did my best to hide the shock. Playing it cool came naturally to me. Usually. With Kilani I couldn’t seem to find my footing.

  “Is your family on the mainland now?”

  Focusing on the drawing of my brother Jared in his wolf form, she shook her head. “No, I’m the only one who left.”

  Before I could probe further, she walked her glass over to the counter. “Do we have a game plan to avoid Nero when I go to work tomorrow?”

  Apparently we were through talking about her family. I sat in my leather easy chair. “If they know where you work, then you aren’t safe there. You should call in sick.”

  She came to the sofa and sat down with one bare foot tucked up underneath her. “I’m too new to be calling in sick. I’ll lose my job.”

  Every word Nadya and Adam had ever mentioned to me about the pull of our wolf once we found our mate didn’t even scratch the surface of this undeniable urge to protect her and keep her safe. The human part of me understood the importance of income, but the animal wanted to lock her in my bedroom where I could guard her properly.

  “Losing your job won’t matter if Nero finds you.”

  She crossed her arms. “You know, I’m freaked out enough without you making this into a horror movie. It’s not like they can waltz into the well-lit hospital and shoot me.”

  “No, they’ll inject you up with a sedative, put you in a wheelchair, and take you far away from the well-lit hospital to finish the job.”

  She popped off the couch, mouth tight. “Stop it!”

  The want to comfort her and the need to apologize threatened to overwhelm me. I clenched my fists and stayed my course. “Not until you understand that if Nero is coming here, then they know where you work, they probably know where you’re staying, and they’re well aware of Adam’s ranch. They have no idea where I live and no connection between the two of us. Yet. So for now, this is the safest place for you to be.”

  “You seriously expect me to stay here like your
prisoner as I lose my job and my only hope at a fresh start?” Angry tears shined in her eyes, breaking my heart and shaking my will. “Screw you. You have no idea how terrified I was that night. They didn’t just kill Grace, they tortured her. When Sebastian told me to run, I had to box up the fear, grab my things, and disappear into a new life. If I let it, the anxiety could consume me without any help from you.”

  I reached for her, and she recoiled. Shit. I stepped back, rubbing a hand down my face while the wolf inside of me growled in protest. “Sometimes fear keeps us safe. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “I don’t want that, either, but I barely know you. I don’t know who to trust and hiding might be safe, but it sure as hell isn’t living.”

  She spun on her heel and stormed into my bedroom and slammed the door. Apparently I’d be in my guest room tonight. Great.

  I was on the porch when Jared’s truck drove up. We clasped forearms in the traditional Pack greeting before he pulled me into a tight hug. He stepped back and took the other chair on the porch.

  “Bring me up to speed.”

  I stared at my hands. The ache in my joints did nothing to deaden the hunger in my heart. I’d hurt her tonight. I hurt her to save her. Didn’t make it any easier, or me any less of an asshole. It was fucking unfair, and I needed to lash out before the club closed.

  “The nurse who helped me with Dad is here. Locked in my bedroom.”

  Jared raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curving into a crooked smile. “Pretty kinky, bro.”

  I shook my head with a disgusted chuckle. “I wish.” I met his eyes. “She’s my mate.”

  His grin spread, but I put my hand up to silence him before he could congratulate me. “She also hates my guts and thinks I’m a liar.”

  “So my brother finally believes in mates and she isn’t interested?”

  “Fate is fucking hilarious, right?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, man. Anything I can do?”

  “Yeah. Stay here and make sure she’s safe. I need to go take care of something.” I closed my fist, rubbing my knuckles with my other hand. “It won’t take long.”

  “You know beating the shit out of someone isn’t going to change anything.”

  “Can’t make it any worse,” I growled, my tone a little louder than I intended. I sucked in a slow breath through my teeth and met his eyes. “I need to blow off some steam. Can you stay or not?”

  He stood up, arms crossed over his chest. “I guess I’m wasting my time reminding you that you haven’t healed up from your last stress relief.”

  “Just be sure she stays here. Nero is looking for her. I won’t be gone long.”

  “Yoga hardly ever punches back.”

  “That’s why it won’t help.” I went to my car and turned back. “Thanks, Jared.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t thank me for letting you get your ass beat.”

  The fight club was inside an old furniture warehouse, long forgotten by most. Outside there was no new signage, just a faded, half-broken FOR LEASE sign. Three silent partners had purchased the building, and Todd recruited and managed the fight boards.

  They’d be closed in an hour. If I was lucky, I could grab the final spot. Since I still held the club champion title, the other fighters would want to challenge me, but no one would be expecting me back tonight, not after last night’s match.

  Marv’s eyes widened when I came in the door with my gym bag. “Wolf. You come in to watch?”

  “No.” I narrowed my eyes at the brackets on the far wall. “I’m here to fight.”

  “B-but you just beat Shark last night.” He pointed a timid finger at my eye. “You ain’t healed yet.”

  I shrugged, walking toward the ring. “I’ll survive.”

  Marv tailed after me, but no amount of talking could stop me. I came here for something real. Pain, focus, and maybe a taste of being in control of my own destiny for a little while.

  “Wolf!” Todd called from the makeshift grandstand. It was probably an old set of risers from a high school choir, but it served its purpose either way. “Just in time for the final bracket. Want in on it?”

  “Who’s still standing?”

  He checked his clipboard before scanning the club. He poked his thumb toward a big guy working the medicine ball in the corner. “Bruiser.”

  Bruiser turned, his lips pulling back into an eager sneer. His partially toothless smile reminded me of a hockey player who forgot to wear a mouthpiece. We were similar in height, but he had to outweigh me by at least fifty pounds.

  This wasn’t going to be pretty.

  “I’m in.”

  “Final bout…” Todd shouted. “Bruiser against our club champion, Wolf!”

  I headed for the locker room. Five minutes to the bell. Already adrenaline laced my blood stream, feeding on my festering rage. Yeah, this was going to get ugly.

  I stood in the center of the ring, toe to toe with Bruiser while Bob rattled off the fight club rules. Bob had refereed for the amateur boxing circuit through the USA Boxing organization for twenty years before he retired from the ring, but retirement hadn’t fulfilled him like boxing did. Now he climbed into our underground ring to keep order between gladiators. His thick accent and thready smoker’s voice always reminded me of Mickey from the Rocky movies.

  Bruiser exhaled slowly, his halitosis daring me to turn away and break eye contact. I ground my teeth together, allowing a growl to rumble in the back of my throat.

  “Get to your corners.”

  Neither of us wanted to be the first to walk away. Bruiser gave me a shove as he turned and I clocked him in the jaw. He rushed toward me, but Bob boldly slid between us. “Save it for after the bell.”

  “I’m comin’ for you, Wolf.”

  “Bring it.” I went to my corner and bit into my mouthpiece while I loosened my muscles and rolled my shoulders and head without ever taking my gaze off of my opponent. The wolf paced inside me, hungry for a show of dominance.

  The bell sounded, igniting the aggression smoldering in my gut. We both charged toward the center of the ring and I landed jabs to his forehead, backing him toward the corner. Bruiser swung a wild right hand. I dodged the blow, answering with an uppercut to his abdomen. He stumbled back, hitting the ropes, and I pursued.

  I had expected more from this guy. Wanted more. I took a step back, taunting him to follow. “Thought you were comin’ for me.”

  A fire sparked in his eyes. He lurched forward, landing a solid punch to my chest that knocked the air out of my lungs. That was more like it. I wanted the beating. Deserved it.

  He grinned around his mouthpiece, sensing he’d slowed me. The jabs came faster than I could block, pummeling my already battered ribs.

  “You got nothin’ left, Wolf. You’re mine.” His putrid breath stung my nostrils just as his glove hit my jaw.

  The bell rang and Bob rushed in to point us back to our corners. No trainers waited to offer strategy, no stools to rest our legs, and no ice to clear our heads. I watched him take a swig of his water and wipe his face with his towel. I didn’t move. Sweat rolled down my face. I didn’t give a shit. The weight of my stare had him trying to focus on anything other than me, jumpy, like a rabbit sensing a wolf nearby.

  “I got plenty left,” I grumbled as the bell rang.

  Bruiser already had his hands up in an effort to block my combinations hitting his face. Once his body was exposed, I shifted my assault to his abdomen, landing heavy blows. Each time my glove connected, my mind filled with a primal howl. This one was for my father. This one was for Nero. And the final blow, an uppercut to his chin, that was for my mate, for the danger surrounding her, and my inability to gain her trust.

  Bruiser stumbled to the right. I took a few steps back as his legs crumpled to the mat. Bob counted while I pulled in air. Exhaustion calming the beast inside.

  Bruiser groaned on the ground and Bob grabbed my wrist, hauling my arm up. “Wolf. Winner
by knockout.”

  The modest group of spectators and fighters shouted my name, but I hardly noticed. Now that the rage had been spent, my entire body ached. I climbed out of the ring, pulling out my mouthpiece so I could loosen the laces on my gloves with my teeth. Inside the dingy locker room, I yanked them off and stared at my hands, opening and closing my fingers. Sometimes I didn’t recognize them anymore, the joints swollen and red.

  But, damn it all, I felt better. The physical pain gave me something else to focus on, a distraction from all the fear, the emotions that threatened to suck me under.

  As I left the warehouse, Marv trailed after me. “Wolf?” I stopped and turned around. “You done good.” He stared at my shoes, avoiding eye contact. “You should rest for a week or two.”

  Even Marv recognized I’d been fighting more often. Too often.

  I clasped his shoulder. “Thanks, buddy. I think I will.” I glanced around the club. “Where’d your brother go?”

  “Todd had to go work.”

  Apparently Todd worked the night shift someplace. Since all of our true identities never walked through the door of the club, I didn’t know his, either. Didn’t matter anyway; I just wanted to be sure Marv was taken care of.

  “Do you have a ride home?”

  “I’m taking the boy home.” Bob had a gym bag on his shoulder and a Wolf Pack baseball hat on his head. It usually made me chuckle to see the University of Reno gear, but I was too exhausted to smile. No one had any idea a real Wolf Pack lived here.

  “Thanks, Bob.”

  The lines in his face deepened. “Marv’s right about restin’. This club is for recreation, not for a guy with a death wish.”

  I ground my teeth and nodded. “Yeah. I’ll take a few days off.”

  “See that you do.” His expression lightened. “Good fight tonight.”

  “Thanks.”

  But deep inside, in places I didn’t want to examine, I knew there was nothing good about what I did tonight.

  Chapter Eight

  KILANI