Blood Moon

by A. D. Ryan

  But nothing happened after a few minutes, and I collapsed onto the dirt floor of the desert, exhausted and defeated, closing my eyes tightly. Soon, Nick’s warm hand rested on my back, and I jolted upright, frightened and a little irritated that he thought it okay to pet me…

  Then I realized I was standing. On two legs. Completely naked.

  Averting his gaze, Nick held out his hand. In it were my clothes. That was when I noticed he was already fully dressed. Clearly I’d blocked out a bit of time, because in the seconds that I thought I was down, there was no way he’d have found the time to run back to where we left our clothes and return.

  I accepted his offering and quickly dressed, my anger at being denied my hunt still festering and slowly rebuilding. He must have sensed this, because he approached me and grabbed my upper arms.

  “You know I had to stop you,” he said tentatively. “Right?”

  Silent, I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to elaborate.

  With an exasperated sigh, he thrust his right hand through his hair, tugging harshly at the ends. “I couldn’t just let you run in there blind,” he continued. “You are absolutely in no way ready to take her on right now.”

  “Excuse me?” I replied, more than a little offended. “She created that thing that killed David…that tried to kill me! Why does it feel like you’re protecting her?” My voice carried through the vast desert, but I didn’t care. I wanted Gianna dead for everything she’d done, and Nick was keeping me from making that a reality.

  “I’m not protecting her.” He said this like it was physically painful for him to even contemplate—a werewolf protecting a vampire—and as soon as I made that connection, I, too, was repulsed by it…and also a little repentant for having suggested such a thing.

  “Then give me one good reason why I shouldn’t track her down and make her pay for what she’s done?” I demanded, a growl teetering on the edge of my voice.

  “Because she could destroy you. I can’t lose you… I just…” He hesitated, seeming unsure, but then finished his thought. “I just got you back.” His voice dropped to a low whisper at the end, almost sounding ashamed for saying it. The confession reawakened those warring emotions I had between him and David lately, and this upset me. It upset me because David was barely laid to rest and Nick was saying shit like this…and worse, part of me liked hearing it. Needed to hear it.

  I ignored the feeling, resolving to deal with it later—if at all—and stared up at Nick. “She needs to pay,” I snarled. “If we don’t go after her now, she could get away.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Nick demanded. “I hate the idea that Gianna sent some psycho disciple after you, and all because of what I…” He cut himself off, piquing my curiosity, but before I could ask him to continue, he changed course. “It was a trap.”

  I stared blankly, unsure how to respond to this.

  “She must have followed us.” Frustrated, he paced back and forth, wearing a groove in the unbeaten desert ground. “I don’t know how I didn’t realize it, but she came out here to entice you, hoping you’d take the bait and run off after her. And you almost did.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “Gianna’s not stupid,” he challenged. “This is exactly the kind of thing she would do to get to you. She’s taunting you. Dangling your chance for vengeance in front of you like a worm on a hook.”

  This fascination she had with me was confusing. I’d never even met this woman before, and she had this personal vendetta against me. Even though Nick wouldn’t talk about why she might be interested in me for who I am and not what, I knew it to be true.

  Call it woman’s intuition with a heaping side of werewolf instincts.

  “Okay… Let’s say this was a trap,” I began to say, “now that we know that, maybe we stand a better chance against her.”

  Nick still seemed unsure. “Brooke—”

  “It doesn’t make sense to just sit around. What if this is our only opportunity?”

  “It won’t be.”

  “You don’t know that.” Before I could argue my case further, Nick shut me down.

  “We can’t just rush this, going in half-cocked and ill-prepared. Why don’t we wait just a few days? I’ll talk to the guys and we can formulate a plan of attack. She won’t go anywhere until she’s accomplished what she came here to do.”

  If I thought about it rationally—like a cop—what Nick suggested really was the best plan. I still wasn’t happy about it as we headed back to my car, but I promised to wait for his instructions. Her scent was so potent...so close I could taste the foulness of it on my tongue, and I fought to pull myself away from it.

  I dropped Nick off at his place before heading back to my parents’. He invited me to stay for dinner, but I politely declined, half-joking when I told him I should give my parents proof of life. By the time I arrived, Mom was just putting dinner on the table. They both seemed surprised to see me, but I kissed them on the cheek before taking my seat at the table. Having had a big brunch at Nick’s place earlier, my appetite had returned, and I dished up heaps of the roasted chicken and vegetables they prepared.

  “So,” Dad said, taking the bowl of vegetables from me, “where did you stay last night?”

  I almost choked on the chicken in my mouth, not expecting the question. It was a fair one; it just caught me off guard. “I stayed with a friend. I just couldn’t bring myself to face anyone else.” And just like that, my grief came crashing back down around me, suffocating me.

  My mom reached over and placed her hand on mine. “That’s understandable, sweetheart.” She went back to cutting a piece of chicken while segueing the conversation. “The service really was beautiful.”

  My stomach clenched, and my hand tightened around my fork, the cool metal biting into my palm. “Y-yeah. It was.”

  “David’s parents were sorry to have missed you afterward.” She carried on like this conversation wasn’t painful as hell for me. And truthfully, it probably wouldn’t have been if I hadn’t been spending most of my day ignoring my grief while I plotted revenge against the monster responsible. Talking about it was supposed to be therapeutic. I knew this. But that was only if I acknowledged the grieving process. I didn’t. I couldn’t. There was far too much to accomplish before I could even think about it.

  Sensing my discomfort, Dad cleared his throat. “What are your plans for tomorrow, Brooke?”

  Thankful for the change in topic, I shrugged. “I’m not too sure. Hang around here. Maybe go for a drive or a walk. We’ll see how I’m feeling.”

  Dad steered the conversation back to my mom, asking her about her workload this week. She seemed happy to be talking about something other than this week’s events, because she launched into express detail about some of the design projects she would be doing this week. She did the same thing a couple of weeks after Bobby passed away. Buried herself in any distraction she could.

  After dinner, I offered to clean up so my parents could enjoy a little down time, and I welcomed the silence that cleaning the kitchen brought with it. Once everything was put away and the kitchen was clean, I retired to my old room for the night. Being back in here, surrounded by my old track and cheerleading trophies took me back to happier times, so I relished it for a moment as I sat down on my bed.

  My eyes scanned the room, letting the memories fill my head and distract me from everything that happened lately. As they roamed past the window, I saw a blur of movement that forced me to my feet. Everything in my body screamed at me to be on alert: ears straining to hear something, eyes narrowing to zero in on whatever lurked out there, nose twitching to pick up a scent, and skin prickling as all of the tiny hairs covering my body stood on end. I pressed my face so close to the windowpane, I could feel the chill of the glass. I didn’t see anything, and I wondered if I was hallucinating from my lack of sleep. Just as I was about to give up, a face appeared in front of me from out of nowhere, making me jump in surprise.

  O
nly the pane of glass separated us as she leaned forward, putting us practically nose to nose. A sadistic smile toyed at her blood-red lips, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose as the smell hit me even through the window.

  I instantly recognized her from the grainy surveillance video. Her long blonde hair falling straight down her back and around her shoulders, her icy stare, and the malicious smile that spread across her face as she challenged me through my second-floor bedroom window. “Gianna,” I snarled, making her smile even wider as she raised her hand and waggled her fingers at me in greeting.

  She disappeared as quickly as she had appeared, and the only thought going through my mind was that I had to go after her. Not just because of what she had done to David and me, but also because she knew where my parents lived. And there was absolutely no way in hell I was going to stand idly by while Nick and his Pack came up with a plan when she could easily dispose of my parents and me in our sleep.

  After locking my bedroom door, I opened my window carefully, trying to avoid the creak that had existed for as long as I could remember, and I slipped out onto the roof. Most people would sidle up to the side of the house and side step along until they reached the drainpipe, where they’d more than likely shimmy down it, but not me. Not anymore, anyway.

  Once out onto the roof, I leapt to the ground, bending at the knee to absorb most of the shock, and immediately sprinted across the lawn and down the street, following the stench that she left behind.

  I remembered what Nick said earlier about how she was leading me into a trap, and I knew I should heed that warning yet again, but I couldn’t. Not when my parents’ lives were now at risk.

  Her trail ended several blocks away at an old foreclosed house. Breathing heavily and sweating from over-exertion, I stood at the end of the drive, staring at the beat-up front door as I tried to formulate a plan. She was in there. I felt it right down to the marrow in my bones and no longer cared about a plan. I just wanted this done. Desperate with the need to end this once and for all, I stepped forward, but was stopped by a strong hand around my wrist.

  It would figure Nick would follow me here. Before I could get angry or question his sudden appearance, I heard rustling inside, and in a flash I was on the porch and opening the door.

  “Brooke,” Nick hissed as he caught up to me. “Wait a damn minute. Think about this!”

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded, shocked to find him here.

  Nick exhaled heavily. “I was vetting the place. Preparing a plan of attack. What are you doing here?”

  “She showed up at my parents’ house.” Her smell floated on the breeze, making me shudder. It was impossible to think about what I was doing, my need to end this blinding me to anything else as we crossed the threshold. Her stench surrounded us both, and a maniacal laugh filled the room. That was all it took for the tremble in my hands to start, moving up my arms and through the rest of my body as the fever burned hotter by the second.

  “I’m so glad you came,” she purred as she descended the stairs fluidly, her fingers caressing the blood-red pendant that hang between her collarbones. Her gaze landed on Nick, who growled and stepped in front of me protectively. “And you brought company.” She eyed him up and down and then wrinkled her nose distastefully. “I liked the last one much more. He smelled a lot more delicious. A shame his blood went to waste, really. I thought I trained my dear Samantha better than to waste a perfectly good meal.”

  That was all it took. I lunged forward, ready to rip her fucking head off, but Nick caught me by the arm, holding me back as I struggled against his brute strength.

  She laughed again, coming off the last step and walking toward us with an almost regal grace in her step. It reminded me of how she moved in the tape I’d watched. Nick anticipated her every move, turning with her as she circled us like a shark did its prey. “You know,” she continued in a wistful tone, “I really hoped you’d come to me earlier. You ruined my plans.”

  She reached out, and her cold finger touched my cheek, trailing down my neck, right along my pulsing carotid. Her eyes held mine, captivating me even though this was just one of her parlor tricks that only humans should be susceptible to. I tried to push the hazy feeling away, but I was unable to. She was powerful, and I just wasn’t strong enough yet.

  A deep growl behind me snapped me out of the hold she had on me, and I suddenly recoiled from her, slapping her hand away from me. Nick shot forward, pressing Gianna against a nearby wall by her neck. He was going to kill her; I recognized the murderous gleam in his eyes. His hands trembled as the transformation started, his claws emerging from the ends of his fingers, splitting the skin there.

  “Don’t be too hasty,” she said, her tone cocky and confident. “Don’t you think poor Brooke deserves to know what happened to her brother? About the night you—”

  “You killed him! What happened after that was all on you.” Nick shouted, interrupting her, and I gasped. I flashed back to the night of our birthday party and recalled Bobby sitting at the table with a blonde woman—a blonde woman who looked an awful lot like the woman on the surveillance recording…the woman who was in front of me right now. I’d only ever seen her from afar, but I was certain they were the same person.

  Before she said anything else, his fury exploded, and his bones began shifting into their new positions to accept the change, his back rippling and straining beneath his shirt. Gianna cried out when he pulled her forward and slammed her back against the wall, another loud crack of bone echoing through the house, and I knew I had to act fast.

  “Nick, no!” I cried out, not because I wanted her alive—I didn’t. She deserved to die for what she did—planned to do. While I originally came here to kill her, I now realized that she might be the key to getting the answers I needed to move past Bobby’s death.

  The sounds of their collective growls filled the small, broken down house as I rushed toward them. Hesitant, based on the rage pouring off him, I reached out and grabbed Nick’s arm, using more strength than I thought I had to try and pry him off of her. “Don’t do this. We need her.”

  Struggling against Nick’s hold on her, Gianna laughed weakly. “Can’t let him kill me, honey? Perhaps I misjudged you. Maybe I should reevaluate your worth.”

  Nick glanced toward me, and she used the distraction to her advantage, forcing herself out of his grip. Quickly rushing toward me, she wrapped her hand around my neck, bending her arm until my back was against her chest. She used me as a human shield, leaving Nick at her mercy. I whimpered as her fingers dug into my skin, bringing my hands up to try and wrench her hand away. Nick moved quickly, rushing to my rescue, but when her nail pressed against my carotid, he stopped dead in his tracks, looking equal parts angry and terrified.

  “Now, now, now,” she warned. “You wouldn’t want to be too hasty, would you?” Her fingernail pierced my neck, warm blood trickling down over my skin, and Nick continued to snarl at her as she held me. Her grip tightened further. After a very intense stare-down, she must have felt content that Nick was no longer an immediate threat, because she relaxed. This allowed me the opportunity to gasp for air, my lungs burning with each breath.

  “Now,” she said, her tone steady and authoritative, “we’re going to walk out of here, mutt, and you’re going to let us. You’re not going to follow us, and you’re going to tell your Pack to heel, got it?”

  “If you’re going to kill me, just do it,” I ordered, my voice soft and strangled.

  Gianna only laughed. “Why? So the minute you drop to the floor, he can attack me? How dumb do you think I am? Besides, I’ve got plans for you.”

  She took her first few steps back toward the door, dragging me with her and away from Nick. Alarm bells blared in my head, telling me I couldn’t give up; it wasn’t in my nature.

  With a surge of adrenaline flowing through my veins, I threw my head back, hearing a satisfying crack as it connected with her nose. I was momentarily dazed from the impact as she stumbled
back a few paces, and as she did, I turned and rushed forward, jumping on her back. I’d only intended to incapacitate her in hopes of binding her to a chair or something so I could interrogate her, but as she struggled, my anger intensified. The wolf ripped past my humanity, the signs of the change becoming apparent, clawing at the surface and begging to be freed.

  I wasn’t experienced enough to force the change on a whim, though, because I remained lucid—and human—as I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed, causing her to cry out. Another crack sounded through the room, her ribs collapsing in my arms.

  Gianna continued to struggle in my arms, even with her broken ribs, but this only made me squeeze her harder. I no longer cared about the questions I had, certain I could find the answers elsewhere, and I lost all sight of anything other than the blind rage that fueled my attack. And the wolf inside of me ate up every morsel of Gianna’s fear and panic.

  She sought me out…

  …created that thing that broke into my home…

  …that tried to kill me…

  …that killed David.

  What happened next—or more so, how it happened—was a little unclear, but Gianna managed to gain the upper hand. She broke free of my vice-like grip and attempted to make a run for it. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t make it very far.

  Without planning or even thinking about it, I leapt into the air and brought her down to the ground. I knew I wanted to keep her alive, but I was being driven purely by instinct at this point. There was just no room for rationality as I grabbed her by the hair and twisted her neck, severing her head in one fluid movement. Her necklace slipped off her headless body as it fell to the floor, and as her head rolled to the side, landing face up, her lifeless eyes gaped at me in disbelief.

  I took a drunken step back as her body slowly crumbled into ash, the fury ebbing and making the quiver in my hands more noticeable. It wasn’t the same as when shifting was inevitable, however. No, this was definitely different. This was borne out of fear and the physical sign of adrenaline being released from my body. I was in shock.