Blood Moon (Skye Morrison Vampire Series, #5.5)

by J. L. McCoy

  I’ve taken back what belongs to me. They sure as shit don’t belong to you, boy. If you come looking for them, I’ll kill them just as soon as let them go again. You’ve been warned. Keep your muzzle out of my pack’s business, or I’ll remove it.

  “Goddammit!” I yelled, fisting the piece of paper as I slammed the car door shut. “Fuck!” The next thing I knew, I’d sent my fist straight through the driver’s side window.

  “Boss? Boss! Talk to me!” Zee’s disembodied voice mumbled softly through the phone.

  “Dean?” Nikki called out as she got out of the car. “Are you all right? What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Taking deep breaths, I tried to calm my intense rage. The note was obviously from the girls’ old alpha. Jojo, DeeDee, and Holly had run away from their pack almost a year ago. I couldn’t understand why their old pack master had the balls to take them back now. I figured he’d known better than to fuck with me.

  How am I going to explain this to Primo? To Nikki?

  Nikki came up beside me and gripped my bicep for dear life. She’d figured out something bad had happened. I didn’t want to scare her more, but I needed to talk to Zephyr. Throwing my arm around her shoulders, I pulled her closer to me as I reached for the phone.

  “Exit 219,” I said as clear as I possibly could. “Get your ass out here. Call Cage and have him meet up with Primo. No matter what, Primo stays in the dark. Let me be the one to tell him about Jojo. It’s best for all of us. He’s going to completely lose his shit when he finds out.”

  With that, I ended the call and wrapped my other arm around Nikki, holding her tighter to me than I probably should have.

  “It’s their old alpha, isn’t it?” Nikki asked; her eyes filled with tears.

  Silently, I nodded.

  I needed to come up with a plan and fast. I wasn’t going to let that backwoods hillbilly bastard and his pack rape our girls again. I was going to do whatever it took to get them back. But, no matter what, I couldn’t involve my pack in this. If I showed up in their territory with my wolves, it would mean war. I didn’t know much about the girls’ old pack, but I knew there were a lot of them. I didn’t want to jeopardize my member’s lives if I didn’t absolutely have to.

  Sighing, I knew there was only one thing I could do; it was time to call in a favor. I pulled out my phone again and dialed. After the fourth ring, she answered.

  “This had better be important, Dean,” Skye Morrison grunted, sounding a little out of breath. “I’m kind of busy at the moment.”

  “What the hell are you doing over there?” I asked; my face scrunched up in confusion.

  The screeching sound of metal on metal was deafening. “Kicking a little ass,” she huffed. “Get to the point, handsome. I’ve got my hands full.”

  “I need to call in that favor,” I said, raising my voice to be heard over the chaos.

  “Who is that?” Nikki questioned, gazing up at me.

  Screams sounded on Skye’s end and I heard her laugh in response. Just what the fuck was she doing?

  “What’cha need, big boy?” she asked before a clash of metal sounded again.

  “Remember the girls I told you about? The ones who were helping Nikki?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, the pack master they ran away from a year ago has taken them again.”

  Nikki’s eyes welled with tears. Hearing me say it out loud was the nail in the coffin for her; it made it absolutely real.

  “Good grief! Can’t anyone behave for, like, five fucking minutes? I swear to God,” Skye growled out in frustration.

  “Can I count on you or not?” I asked, grumpy myself. “I really need you, or I wouldn’t have called.”

  “Of course you can count on me, Dic. I promised you, didn’t I?” she answered before a loud smack sounded. “Hang on a minute.” The phone jostled around for a few seconds before I heard a male scream out in excruciating pain, followed by Skye’s distant voice again. “Slap me again, asshole! Go ahead! Let’s see you do it again without any hands.”

  My eyes widened in surprise as I looked down at Nikki. “Holy shit,” I mouthed to her.

  “What? What’s happening?” she asked worriedly. “Who’s on the phone?”

  “Sorry about that,” Skye chuckled into the phone. “Someone has very bad manners.”

  “Jesus, Skye! What are you doing over there?”

  “I told you. Kicking ass,” she answered matter-of-factly.

  “That’s Skye?” Nikki asked. Her hand shot out and snatched the phone from my ear before I could stop her. “Skye, is that you?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Nikki

  “Nikki?” Skye gasped. “Is it really you?”

  A loud clash sounded, followed by gunshots. There was some kind of fight going on and it sounded like she was smack in the middle of it.

  “Skye? Skye!” I gazed up at Dean worriedly. “What’s happening? What’s she doing?”

  Dean seemed afraid to tell me too much, but I implored him with panicked eyes. “She said she was kicking some ass,” he grimaced, afraid of my reaction.

  “What does that mean?” I asked, panicked. Was Skye hurt? Was she in trouble?

  “Nik?” Skye finally said. “Are you there?”

  “Are you okay?” I demanded to know. “What’s happening? Where are you?”

  “Nikki, honey, I’m fine,” she said. The crashing sounds around her said otherwise, though. “I’m in Finland at the moment, and kind of in the middle of something right now. As soon as I’m able, though, I’ll call you back and we can talk. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, Nik. Do me a favor and tell Dean where I am. I should be back in Austin in a few days tops.”

  Crashing and scuffling sounds filled the air again as more gunshots rang out. It sounded like she was in the middle of a war zone and I was beyond afraid for her.

  “Skye? Skye!”

  “Gotta go, Nik. Love you!” she called out rapidly before there was a loud bang and the phone went silent.

  “Skye? Hello? Are you still there?”

  I glanced up at Dean and swallowed hard. “The phone went dead. She’s gone. Dean, there were gunshots.”

  “I heard,” he frowned, taking the phone from me and pulling me against him, trying to comfort me. “She said she’d be back in a few days, darlin’. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do right now for the girls until then. We have to wait for Skye to get home.”

  “Yeah, if she’s not dead already!” I breathed hard behind tear filled eyes. “Oh, my God, Dean. What if she’s dead?”

  “I forgot,” Dean smirked down at me. “You don’t know yet.”

  “Know what?” I sniffed, wiping the tear that had fallen.

  “Skye’s a crazy-ass vampire now.”

  “I know that,” I shook my head, not understanding how he could be so calm in a time like this.

  He gently brushed the hair back from my eyes as me gazed down at me. “True. But, you don’t know what she can do. She’s like nothing anyone’s ever seen.”

  I blinked up at him, dumbfounded. What the hell did that even mean? How different could one vampire possibly be?

  To Be Continued…

  This story, as well as Skye’s, continues in Retribution of Sins (Skye Morrison Vampire Series, #6) due out in late 2014.

  Blood Moon (Skye Morrison Vampire Series, #5.5) Soundtrack

  These were my musical muses while writing Blood Moon. I hope you enjoy the songs as much as I did!

  Tourniquet by Evanescence

  Everybody’s Fool by Evanescence

  Haunted by Evanescence

  Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift feat. The Civil Wars

  The Killing Moon by Echo and the Bunnymen

  Silence by Delerium feat. Sarah McLachlan

  Color Me Once by Violent Femmes

  Skyscraper by Demi Lovato

  Alone by Heart

  Titanium by David Guetta feat. Sia

  Seek and Destroy by
Metallica

  Black Widow by Iggy Azalea feat. Rita Ora

  Nothing Else Matters by Metallica

  When I Look At You by Miley Cyrus

  Beautiful With You by Halestorm

  This soundtrack is available on my website at:

  www.jlmccoy.com/book-soundtracks.html

  About The Author

  J.L. McCoy currently writes Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance and is the author of the Amazon Best Selling Skye Morrison Vampire Series. She resides in the great state of Texas with her family, their opinionated Pekiweenie Isabel, and "Big Boy" Strike. She is a self-proclaimed book nerd, sushi addict, animal lover, metal head, and body art junkie.

  If you'd like more information about her or her upcoming books, please visit the following links:

  Website: www.JLMcCoy.com

  Twitter: www.twitter.com/authorjlmccoy

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/AuthorJLMcCoy

  Amazon: www.amazon.com/J.L.-McCoy/e/B007YUIZCE/

  Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/show/5769884.J_L_McCoy

  If you liked Blood Moon by J.L. McCoy

  check out these other Indie books

  Wolf’s Fire – Dicey Grenor

  Divine Merit – V. Cantrell

  Dissension – K.A. Salidas

  Prophecy’s Power – Brenda Dyer

  Bedtime Tales From The Apocalypse – Michael Hammor

  History of Fire – Alexia Purdy

  Wolf’s Fire

  A Novella Of

  The Narcoleptic

  Vampire Series

  Vol. 3.2

  Dicey Grenor

  Dicey Grenor Books

  Published by Dicey Grenor

  Independent Author

  www.Diceygrenorbooks.com

  Copyright © Dicey Grenor, 2013

  All rights reserved

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrightable materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  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.

  Cover model: Danyahel (Danny) Norris.

  Chapter 1

  Punch looked down at his attire and shook his head solemnly. I can’t believe this shit.

  He was in utter turmoil, ready to bang some skulls. Angry with himself for letting her talk him into this. On his one night off. Pffff. He should have just stayed at home, but no. He couldn’t refuse her. She was his weakness. After overcoming so many adversities in life, he’d allowed her to become his Achilles heel. He’d allowed it. Somewhere underneath all his machismo, his lust for this woman had made him sink this low.

  Not only was he promised to another, which made his lustful desires all the more illicit, but there was no way a self-respecting man would ever step out of the house like this. Not a real one. Not under normal circumstances without a gun to his head. Had he really agreed to this because she’d convinced him his bodyguard skills were necessary when she scoped out the human Halloween party off Westheimer? Or did he get dolled up like a dick so he could spend time with her outside the ever-watchful eyes at Hades? He’d wager the latter, and that bothered him.

  Sure, she’d played up his altruistic side, even used the label “team player”, like he’d ever displayed a selfish bone in his body. Fact was she knew how to get to him. She’d played him like a fiddle, stirring up his protective syndrome, and he fell for it every time.

  Right about now, Punch decided being a team player was overrated. So was lust.

  He changed his mind as she parted the crowd and walked towards him, her crimson gown swaying at her ankles, her pearl earrings and bracelet sparkling under the disco light. He could smell her divineness from across the room. There was no one else like her. No other scent like that. His heart started to race, and he cursed under his breath. She’d know the effect she had on him if she tuned in to the way his chest boomed with excitement like a teenaged groupie around his favorite rock star. Then again, she was no idiot. A bit sassy and eccentric maybe, but not dumb. She wouldn’t and couldn’t be surprised by his reaction to her. She knew. Had to. It had been like this since he’d first met her. He would have cursed the day if he hadn’t believed all the prophecies that foreshadowed their intertwined fates.

  “Ahoy there, matey. Arrrrrrr,” Willow snickered as she curtsied in front of him.

  That did it. He refused to take the ridiculous yellow parrot perched on his shoulder, or the ridiculous black leather eye patch strangling his head, or the ridiculous plastic sword swinging on his hip any longer. He started ripping those pieces of his costume off until they landed on the floor one by one. He felt some satisfaction in watching other ridiculously clad, non-self-esteem-having folks trample all over what he’d formally worn as part of his costume.

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” his voice rumbled partly because it was always a deep baritone, and partly because he was growling from anger at himself for letting Willow get to him. He couldn’t even blame her for this like any other warm-bloodied male worth his salt would. He was in a roomful of people wearing masks and elegant costumes, and though he should feel humiliated that his costume was out of place, he was more upset over his lack of will power where she was concerned. He had let Willow entice him into coming to this shindig to begin with, and that was unacceptable, if not gay. He hadn’t even fucked her, and he already acted whipped and ball-less.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” She tried for concern and fell short, unable to hide her amusement.

  “Getting out of this mess and going to find my dignity and testosterone.” He pulled the string of colorful beads looped around one of his long dreadlocks and tossed them to the floor, watching them scatter around like fruit loops. Men didn’t wear barrettes. Men of his stature and position didn’t go against their better judgments over women just because they got boners either. Well, maybe some men did. Not Punch. He preferred to stay on the sidelines and make sure everyone else had a safe environment to play in rather than dressing up and actually participating. Role playing was not his thing. Cosplay was definitely not his thing.

  All that time he’d been working at Pit of Hades Fetish Club, he’d never once gotten involved in the kinks. He’d observed. He’d kicked some ass. He’d delegated security tasks to others. He’d done whatever he had to do to keep the place safe for those who had their minds in the gutter. That was his role, his calling. He sacrificed to make sure others could enjoy themselves. He was a straight-laced, all-American, wholesome good ol’ boy who did not dress in costumes and attend parties on his nights off of security duty.

  This IS all Willow’s fault. Thankfully, he’d finally found half a nutsack before he did something really stupid like curtsy back.

  She threw her head back, exposing more of her ample brown cleavage in the low cut gown, and laughed. “It’s a masquerade ball, silly, not a pirate convention.”

  “Well, you just told me I needed a costume. I’ve never been to anything like this…” he looked down at his ruffled sleeves and growled, “and I shouldn’t have come tonight.” With one palm, he grabbed the Jack Sparrow hat from his head, tossed it on the floor, and kicked it across the room. While en route, it was kicked again twenty times by masked people waltzing around the nig
htclub. He smiled at the ruined hat getting just what it deserved. “I’m outta here. Call me if you need backup.”

  From what he could tell, it was a party with several bars for humans who liked to get drunk and pretend to be someone they weren’t. As long as she didn’t start biting them while she searched the crowd for supernaturals, Willow would be fine.

  “Party pooper,” she pouted.

  “I came. I saw. I left.” Fuck this.

  “Please don’t go.” Willow removed her mask and gave him the full weight of her hazel eyes.

  Damn. Why she have to go and do that? Whether she was intentionally trying to spell him with her magic or not, didn’t matter. The chemistry between them was undeniable, irresistible, and fully charged when they made eye contact for more than a few seconds. He sighed, intending to look away but was unable to do so. As long as she asked him to stay, it would be hell to refuse her.

  He had to appeal to her sensibility. “Your clan and my pack are spread throughout both floors. If there are any supernaturals here, they will be found and urged to come with us. You don’t need me here for that.” He spread his arms, looking downward to indicate his emasculating brown knit pants and striped sash. “We all have our roles to play, and this isn’t mine. I’ve humiliated myself enough for one evening.” His eyes formed a question, begging her to release him from her non-magical hypnotism. Feeling like he was letting her down was even worse than parading around in his clown suit. Thank Baal she couldn’t actually captivate him. Their particular blood bond bound him more than he could stand already.