Trust the Moon

by Jamie Craig

  Forever an outsider…until love beckons her home.

  In the small shifter community of Delta, Utah, there’s no such thing as a stranger. Everyone knows everyone, so a new face in town doesn’t go unnoticed. When a woman Dylan Peterson doesn’t recognize shows up at his twenty-first birthday bonfire bash, he does what comes naturally as a host—he introduces himself.

  The enigmatic Gena Pelletier is the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen, and the most aloof. A scorching encounter with her under the moon blindsides him, leaving him wondering what just happened—and watching her disappear into the night.

  Gena wasn’t born wild, but ever since her father’s murder she’s lived outside Delta borders on her own terms. She has no desire to return to civilization, not to its constraints, nor its rules. So what if Dylan is sweet and the sex is amazing? He’s just a way to scratch an itch. Funny thing is, Dylan is an itch a one-time scratch won’t satisfy.

  Neither of them knows what to make of the other…and neither can walk away.

  Warning: Contains graphic language, as well as hot shifter sex under the moon and in the water, long moonlit runs, and a hero bent on doing everything he can to show the woman he loves what happiness can be.

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

  Macon GA 31201

  Trust the Moon

  Copyright © 2009 by Jamie Craig

  ISBN: 978-1-60504-503-0

  Edited by Sasha Knight

  Cover by Anne Cain

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: April 2009

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  Trust the Moon

  Jamie Craig

  Dedication

  This is dedicated to Sasha, because she always knows the right thing to do.

  Chapter One

  Dylan tossed a heavy piece of wood onto the bonfire, sending a cloud of sparks into the night air. Heat blanketed his arms. The skin on his face felt tight and dry, and smoke tickled his nose. The moon hung over the fire, bright and swollen, its light blocking the stars from view. He felt its pull, starting low in his stomach. He wanted to run. He wanted to chase the moon until his lungs burned and the ache in his legs disappeared. But he couldn’t flee his own birthday party. Not that he wanted to leave his friends. He just wanted to stretch himself until he reached his limit.

  “Somebody’s going to get lucky tonight.”

  Dylan looked up sharply to see his friend, Doug, leering at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, for starters, it’s your birthday. There’s a full moon, lots of booze and Daria has been eyeing you all night.”

  “There’s never been anything between me and Daria,” Dylan pointed out.

  Doug laughed. “So that means something can’t start between you?”

  “Why are you over here pestering me? Did Kate get tired of you or something?”

  “Kate’s talking to her friends about girl stuff. I got bored.”

  “You’re always bored.”

  “Am not. So, how does it feel to be twenty-one?”

  Dylan kicked a piece of wood towards the fire. “Not much different from the way twenty felt, I guess.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re finally, like, an adult.”

  Dylan arched his brow. “You mean, I can finally live in my own house, drive my own car, hold down a job and go to school full time? That sort of adult? Because in that case, twenty-one feels a lot like nineteen.”

  “Whatever. You know what I mean. You can finally get drunk legally. How much have you had to drink tonight?”

  “I never even got drunk illegally. And this is my second beer.”

  “Fuck, dude, you are really not clear on the concept of a bonfire party.”

  “Somebody has got to be sober enough to pull your ass out of the fire when you fall in.”

  “That somebody has got to be you?” Doug asked.

  Dylan looked around. “I don’t see anybody else here who’d be willing to pull your ass out of a bonfire.”

  “It just seems like you can live a little now.”

  “Is that why you’re waiting to turn twenty-one? I don’t think it’s going to make the difference you think it will. Not in Delta, at any rate.”

  Not that Delta was a particularly bad place to live. It wasn’t. Dylan liked it well enough—though an argument could be made that he only liked it because he had never lived anywhere else—but it was small. It had started out as a tiny compound for a few shifters who had banded together for survival, and that basic mindset still pervaded the entire community. But it wasn’t so insular that there weren’t opportunities for a decent life. A growing number of shifters made their living through freelancing and telecommuting, and young and old alike took advantage of the online programs the Utah universities offered. Dylan was only two years away from a master’s in computer science.

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll leave Delta,” Doug said.

  “Really?”

  “Other shifters have left. It’s not like we’re prisoners here or something. You’re not going to leave after you finish up with school?”

  “No. I like it here. My friends are here. My family’s here. I like my house. Besides…I’d miss this too much. The desert. The moon.”

  “You could see the moon anywhere,” Doug said.

  “Not like this. It’s not the same.”

  “Whatever, man. I’m going to go get a drink. You want one?”

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  Dylan turned his attention back to the fire. He liked to watch the flames lick at the stacks of wood, the sparks swirling with each gust of breeze, the coals glowing so red they were almost golden. Maybe he would get a fireplace installed in his house as a birthday present to himself. It never got very cold in Delta, but watching a fire was inexplicably soothing.

  “Hey, you. Are you ready for a piece of cake?” Daria’s question was as bright as her smile.

  “The cake you made?”

  “Yep. Chocolate strawberry.”

  “I’ve been looking forward to that all night.”

  “Come on, then.” She looked over her shoulder. “Your parents know how you’re celebrating your birthday?”

  “Well, they know I gave them my blessing when they told me they were going to be out of town.”

  “I didn’t expect Irene to be willing to leave her little boy on his birthday.”

  “She was not. But they both deserved a vacation, and Dad needs to be back to the school in two weeks. Besides, she called me today and I assured her that I was fine.” Dylan wrapped his arm around Daria and gave her a gentle squeeze. “But I did warn her that I wasn’t going to save any of your cake for her.”

  “Maybe we should sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you first,” Daria suggested.

  “I think we should just cut the cake first.”

  “But what about your candles?”

  “Candles? Who needs candles? I have a bonfire.”

  Daria giggled, and began to slice. The knife cut through the confection easily, exposing the dense cake and the bright red berries. “You like b
utter frosting, right?”

  “I love it.”

  “Then you’ll get a piece with extra frosting tonight.”

  “Thank you.”

  She beamed at him and handed him the cake. The butter frosting smeared across his finger, and he licked it away, sucking on the tip to capture the rich flavor.

  “Now this is what birthdays are about. In fact…” The hair prickled on the back of his neck. Instincts flared to life, and he swung his head around, searching for…what? He felt like prey. Like something, or somebody, was stalking towards him. He searched the crowd, his gaze finally falling on a woman he didn’t recognize.

  The bonfire cast a golden tint to her already dusky skin, and flickered in almond-shaped eyes that made her seem more exotic than the wild mane of coppery curls falling down her back did. Even her simple jeans and top ensemble enhanced her beauty. The worn-denim-encased legs stretched for miles, while her plunging neckline highlighted full, high breasts. It was hard to tear his gaze away. It was even harder when the corner of her ripe lips lifted, and Dylan suddenly flashed on what her mouth might feel like doing something other than smiling.

  The carnal instinct drove him back to Daria. Safe Daria. Cute Daria. He wasn’t sure what she was talking about anymore, but he smiled anyway. He even managed to say something that made her laugh.

  But out of the corner of his eye, he saw the mystery woman moving. She circled a pickup and came to a halt at the front of Dylan’s Mustang. One long, slim hand stretched to trace over the hood, the caress of a lover instead of someone more casual. It was slow, and deliberate, and his entire body tightened with its unspoken promise.

  A heavy curl fell against her cheek. When she reached up to push it off, the woman caught Dylan’s eye. Another enigmatic smile. A flare of her nostrils. He had no idea who she was, but he had no doubt she was a shifter. She was too feral to be anything else.

  “I’ll be right back,” Dylan said, setting his plate on the table.

  “Where are you going?” Daria asked.

  “There’s somebody here I need to say hi to. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  He didn’t like just abandoning Daria by the fire, but there were plenty of people there to keep her company. He needed to know who the strange woman was, and why she had appeared at his party without warning. She reminded him of the moon—something he could feel even if he didn’t quite understand why. He wanted to walk right up to her and blurt his name, but that might be creepy.

  Instead, he pulled the Mustang door open and tugged out the blanket. Good, good. Make it look casual. Like you need a blanket at a bonfire on a hot summer night.

  “I don’t know you, do I? I think it’s only fair to introduce yourself to the guest of honor.”

  She didn’t move from where she sat against the edge of the hood, leaning back on her hands to stare up into the star-speckled sky. The slight evening breeze rustled the ends of her hair where it fell down her back.

  “Introducing myself doesn’t really tell you much about me, though, does it?” Her voice was a husky alto, soft and clear in spite of the din of the party behind him. “I’m sure there’s stuff about me you’d find a hell of a lot more interesting than my name.”

  She definitely wasn’t like the other girls he knew. Those other girls didn’t intimidate him. Or intrigue him. His feet moved without conscious direction. “I think your name might be a good start.”

  Her head tilted as she regarded him, a debate clearly warring behind her eyes. There was a moment when he thought she wasn’t going to answer, but then she smiled, and his gut clenched. “Gena. And you’re Dylan.”

  She was right. The revelation of her name didn’t actually tell him anything. He couldn’t think of anybody in Delta named Gena. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Daria still hovering near the fire, as though waiting for his return. Did Daria know her? Somebody at the party must have at least recognized Gena—nobody could forget a face, or a body, like hers.

  “Yeah. What are you doing way over here by yourself?” Dylan gestured over to the fire. “There’s some cake. Or beer, if you’re thirsty.”

  “I had a beer, thanks. And cake…” her nose wrinkled, turning her lips—albeit briefly—into the most delectable moue, “…not really my thing. Frosting on the other hand…” She touched the corner of her mouth, enough for him to realize with frightening embarrassment that he must have some stuck to his face. “I’d volunteer to clean it off for you, but I think your girlfriend might be a little upset with me if I did that.”

  “Oh, she’s not my girlfriend. I mean, she’s nice and I kind of like her, but we haven’t…we aren’t…” Dylan moved closer. He hadn’t left the fire so he could explain his relationship, or lack thereof, with Daria. “We’re just friends.”

  “Well, that’s good.”

  When Gena leaned towards him, he almost did the same. He had to force his body to freeze when the tip of her finger touched the edge of his lips. It wasn’t anything more than the slightest of contact, but his skin electrified at the heat of her body, his pulse jumping when her nail scratched upon withdrawal. Frosting clung to her finger, but only for as long as it took to suck it into her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed. There was no way she wasn’t doing that on purpose. The fleeting thought that one of his buddies might have hired her as a special birthday present crossed his mind.

  “I’ve wanted to do that ever since your cousin pointed you out to me.”

  Dylan smiled a little uncertainly. “You have? Are you…?” Gena licked her lips. She was making it difficult to think straight. He owed Shawn big time for this. “Are you from around here? I mean, are you from Delta?”

  She shook her head. “But I am from around here. Just…out there.” She nodded towards the darkness. “It’s a gorgeous night, don’t you think?”

  “It is,” Dylan agreed, his attention locked on her. “I couldn’t ask for a better night.” I couldn’t ask for a better night? Nice. Real slick. If she walked away from him, Dylan wouldn’t blame her.

  Except she didn’t roll her eyes at him or otherwise mock his response. Instead, she inched sideways, making a clear—but narrow—space for him to sit down. Dylan took a single step, then halted in his tracks when she proceeded to lie back against the cold metal. The way her hair fanned around her head made him itch to run his fingers through it, while the moonlight sculpted her body in silver shadows.

  “So come and enjoy it with me.”

  This couldn’t be real. His friends set this up. It was some sort of elaborate practical joke, and soon, they’d jump from behind the trucks to mock him for thinking a mysterious, beautiful woman emerged from the desert just to flirt with him.

  Dylan perched on the edge of the hood then slowly lowered himself backwards. It might be some sort of big set up, but he was going to enjoy it while it lasted. “The moon’s bright tonight too.”

  Her arm brushed against his. Now that he was close to her, the faint scent of her skin filled his head. She didn’t smell like the bonfire but earthy and rich, like she’d spent the entire day sunbathing in the nude.

  He really needed to stop imagining her naked.

  “These are my favorite moons.” Thank God she was talking again. “Like you can just pluck it out of the sky.”

  Dylan chuckled, though he wasn’t exactly amused. That just seemed like the thing to do. “Me too.” He paused before adding, “I’ve always felt a strong bond with the moon.” He knew he wasn’t winning any points for intelligent conversation, but he hoped she understood what he meant.

  Gena tilted her head towards him, her hair brushing along her cheek. They were too far away from the fire for him to discern what color her eyes were, but they shone with the same radiance as the stars, bright and intelligent. “Is that why you had a bonfire for a birthday party? So you could be out here at night?”

  “Yeah. It’s hard for me to stay indoors when there’s a full moon. All my friends wanted to go barhopping, but there are only
three bars in Delta. I convinced them we should take the booze with us and go to the desert.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Of course, I didn’t count on just about everybody under thirty following us out here.”

  “Bigger crowd makes it easier to slip away.”

  “Yeah, I guess nobody’s noticed my absence, yet.” Which didn’t make any sense. If this were a practical joke, wouldn’t people be jumping out of the shadows by now? Without a doubt. That meant this was real. This conversation, this girl, the moon reflecting in her eyes. It was all real. “But we haven’t exactly gone far.”

  “The night’s still young.” Rolling onto her side, Gena rested her cheek against her arm. Her free hand came forward and rested lightly on his chest, the fingertips stroking him gently through the thin fabric of his T-shirt. “I’ll bet you’re gorgeous when you shift. Do you prefer to run or fly?”

  The heat of her hand was like an imprint on his chest. Now that he no longer expected the gotcha, he didn’t feel so awkward, or out of his element. He did, however, feel intoxicated—with the scent of her hair, the warmth of her skin and the pale light of the moon. He felt like running. He wanted to know if she could keep up.

  “Run. I don’t like heights.”

  She smiled. “Me too. The running part, I mean. There’s nothing more liberating.” Her fingers continued to caress him, each slight brush quickening his pulse. “If you feel like taking off, all you have to do is say the word, you know.”

  “I…” He could leap from the car that second. Despite the warm night, he shivered as adrenaline dumped into his system. “Do you want to go for a run? It’d be good to get the blood flowing.”

  Gena edged closer until her pussy pressed against his hip. Her mouth hovered at his ear. “Running’s my second most favorite thing to do.”

  She stood before he could catch his breath. Standing in front of the car, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and peeled it away, tossing it onto the hood next to him with a smile that dared him to pick it up.