KILLIAN'S MOON (BOOK 12) (RISE OF THE ARKANSAS WEREWOLVES)

by Jodi Vaughn

  “I was hired at the last minute,” he lied.

  “Not surprised.” The guy held out his hand. “I’m John.”

  Killian accepted it. “Killian.” It rolled out easy enough, and he wondered if he should have given an alias. From the scent of the guy, he was human and not a Were. So, he was pretty sure John didn’t know who the Louisiana Assassins were.

  “I guess Walter hired you since we’ve had to order more cakes.” John nodded at the display.

  “Yeah.” Killian remembered to keep his expression neutral. “A lot of cakes means a lot more help.”

  “It means moving more product.” John glared. “You’d think they’d have come up with an easier way to move drugs than baking them in cakes.”

  Killian’s stomach tumbled. Baking them in cakes? Fuck. Barrett had been right about the bakery. His mind flashed back to when he had taken a bite of the Hummingbird Cake back at Monmouth.

  He’d noticed how bad it had tasted. He’d noticed the dark-yellow discoloration around the part he’d eaten but he’d just chalked it up to the banana that had been baked in. Now thinking back, he wondered if it had been meth.

  Lilliana’s Hummingbird Cake.

  Had she been in on the whole drug ring?

  His stomach dipped to his toes, and his head swam.

  “I’m glad they hired another guy. A few days ago, we lost a cake when the owner had sold it to an unknown.” John shook his head. “That shit could have gone all kinds of sideways. The owner got in quite a lot of trouble for that.” John laughed.

  The fact that he’d spit it out was why he hadn’t gotten sick after eating it.

  Being a Were had a multitude of advantages.

  “No doubt.” Killian narrowed his gaze on the human.

  “From here on out, the owner knows to only sell the cakes to me and no one else.” John nodded.

  “So, did you bring some kind of truck to load this shit up in?”

  “Yeah.” John dug his keys out of his pocket and threw them at Killian who caught them midair. “It’s parked around back. Since we are getting twenty cakes today, we are just going to start loading them from the back instead of the front. So it won’t draw too much attention to what’s going on.”

  “It’s the last thing we need.” Killian heard a noise from the kitchen and voices raised. One of them was the owner who’d sold him the cake a few days ago. If he found Killian here, he would out him. “I’ll head on out to the truck.” He ducked out the front door just as the owner came out of the kitchen.

  Killian was careful to keep his hands in his pockets and his head down as he walked down the sidewalk and around the building.

  He stopped when he saw the white van parked in the back. He slid the key into the door and unlocked the vehicle.

  He glanced around before sliding into the driver’s seat. The interior was cluttered with fast food burger wrappers on the floor. He cringed as he caught the stale scent of old cigarettes.

  A red lighter, some sticks of gum, and a business card sat in the console.

  He picked up the card. The Triple X, the strip club in Memphis.

  He quickly memorized the card and put it back as the back door of the bakery opened.

  John and the owner stood on the stoop and talked animatedly.

  Killian spotted a St. Louis Cardinals hat on the passenger seat and tugged it on his head.

  He didn’t want to take any chances of the owner recognizing him as the guy who’d bought the cake.

  “Hey, Killian.” John yelled as the owner stepped back inside the building. “Back the truck up and we’ll get these cakes loaded.”

  Killian nodded and started the van. He eased the van into position at the back door and slid out of the driver’s seat. He walked to the back of the vehicle and opened the back doors. John rolled a cart on wheels over to the van. Killian scanned the area behind the man, making sure that the owner was still inside.

  “Load these cakes while I take the money inside.” John reached inside the back of the van and pulled out a big, black backpack. He unzipped the top and showed Killian the stacks of bundled hundred-dollar bills. “It’s crazy what people pay for drugs. Me, I prefer Scotch.” John grinned and tossed the backpack on his shoulder.

  Killian watched John head back inside the Natchez Bakery.

  He quickly loaded the cakes into the back of the van and pulled out his cell phone. He snapped a shot of the cakes and stepped back to take a picture of the license plate. He glanced over his shoulder, making sure he was alone before texting the info to Barrett.

  His finger froze. He changed his mind and didn’t send the information.

  He managed to shove the phone back into his jeans pocket when John exited the building.

  “You riding back with me?” John asked.

  “Not yet. I’ve got to handle some other business first.” He grinned. “Let’s just say I’ve got more than one boss.”

  “Yeah. You have to in this business.” John nodded and slid inside the truck. Killian watched the van drive away, loaded with cakes and drugs. He tossed the baseball cap to the ground.

  He made his way back to his Harley and started the engine. He pulled onto the street and headed in the direction of the van. He quickly caught up.

  His phone buzzed, and he knew it was Barrett calling him back. But he couldn’t answer right now. He had to follow the van to where the drug dealers were distributing the drugs.

  Here was his opportunity to prove to Barrett that he wasn’t lazy and he was a good member of his Pack. Here was his chance to prove his worth.

  Once he had all the answers, he would report back to his Pack Master.

  And then deal with Lilliana.

  Chapter 18

  Thankfully, Lilliana didn’t have to cook dinner that night. A lot of the guests had checked out, and Mrs. Spell decided that it wasn’t enough to warrant cooking a meal for so few.

  It worked out perfectly for her. It would actually give her the time to start cooking her cakes for the bakery. She had already purchased all the ingredients she needed so all she had to do was get started.

  She grabbed the pink and white striped apron and tied it around her waist. She gathered her long hair in a loose knot at the nape of her neck and then washed her hands. She pulled out all the cake pans she could find and greased them with coconut oil.

  She filled the kettle with fresh water and placed it on the stove and turned the heat up. Once she got the first few cakes in the oven and the next batch made, she could enjoy a cup of tea.

  She smiled as she got the first few cakes in the oven. She set the timer and went about mixing the next batch.

  For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was finally getting ahead of the eight ball, so to speak.

  For the first time in a while, she wasn’t the one struggling.

  Fate had finally smiled down on her, and she knew she was going to make it after all.

  Killian kept a safe distance as he followed the white van to a warehouse in the outskirts of Natchez.

  The words on the building stated it was a plastic manufacturer but judging by the number of cars in the parking lot, it looked like it was a cover for something else.

  He parked away from the building under the cover of trees. He killed the engine and waited.

  John slid out of the van and plucked a cigarette out of a pack he had stashed in his shirt pocket. He lit up the stick and leaned against the van as he blew a steam of smoke between his lips.

  Another man came out of the back door. When John saw him, he straightened and quickly put the cigarette out.

  “Those will kill you,” the stranger said.

  “So will this job.” John shrugged. “I’m taking my chances.”

  “Get that merchandise moved inside. We only have an hour,” the man ordered.

  “What about the new guy?” John asked.

  “What new guy?”

  “Killian. The one who showed up at the Natchez Bakery and helped
load the cakes?” John frowned.

  The man leaned in and glared. “I didn’t hire anyone new.”

  John’s face went pale.

  “Did you tell him anything, John?”

  “No, I didn’t. I swear.” John held up his hands.

  Killian watched the interaction between the two.

  “If you see this guy again, you shoot him. Then call me.” He shoved his thumb against his own chest.

  John nodded and hurried to open the back door.

  Killian watched from his hiding spot as John moved the cakes one by one inside.

  He felt his phone buzz in his jeans pocket but decided to ignore it. A line of black cars drove into the parking lot, and men in suits, carrying large assault rifles, got out.

  Killian pressed his back against the tree. He glanced at his Breakout, thinking he was grateful for the black paint job that made his bike blend into the shadows of the woods.

  All the men went inside except for six who stood guard around the back door.

  Killian itched to make a move, but he knew he couldn’t advance. He had to bide his time and wait. He had to wait until the cover of night to check things out.

  By the time everyone left, it was late afternoon. Killian made sure he was alone before getting on his motorcycle and heading back into Natchez.

  The cool spring breeze did nothing to cool his anxiety about what he’d learned today.

  Lilliana. Was she involved? He couldn’t imagine getting drugs inside a cake without the baker knowing about it. He frowned as he slowed his speed in the city limits. The street lights were slowly coming on, and people were starting to head home or head out to eat a nice dinner somewhere.

  He watched a young couple holding hands as they walked down the sidewalk together. They were both dressed up, on a date, and clearly in love. The way she looked up at the guy made his heart tug and made him think of Lilliana.

  He shook his head and focused on looking ahead. He was here on a job, not looking for a fucking love connection.

  When he pulled into the driveway of Monmouth, his stomach clenched. Lilliana’s car was parked in the back near the kitchen.

  He debated on whether to go find her now or wait until he’d had a shower and time to think. Whatever he did had to be done diplomatically.

  If she was involved somehow, he didn’t need her tipping off the bakery owner.

  He parked his Harley and killed the engine. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and sent Barrett a quick text that he was gathering information and would be back in touch later.

  He’d call his Pack Master later. Once he had some more information on the inside of the warehouse.

  He knew he didn’t need to update Barrett until he had been inside the building. He needed to know how they were taking the meth out of the cake and how they were transporting it.

  Until then, Barrett would just have to wait.

  Chapter 19

  Lilliana heard the unmistakable growl of Killian’s Harley as he pulled into Monmouth. Her heart quickened, and she quickly checked her appearance in the reflection of the microwave glass.

  She didn’t want to appear too eager. She knew that guys didn’t like clingy women. She’d never really had a guy that she liked as much as Killian or that made her body react like he did.

  Hell, she didn’t even really know the Were.

  But something about him was different.

  She shook her head and picked up her tea cup. She lifted the delicate china to her lips and took a sip of the English Breakfast she’d made only minutes ago.

  She needed to focus on getting these cakes done, not on her raging libido.

  “Ugh.” She groaned.

  “What is it, dear?” Mrs. Spell walked into the kitchen and poured some hot water from the kettle into a cup. She grabbed lemon and cut it in half and squeezed the juice into the water.

  Lilliana straightened and forced a smile. “Just ready to be done with all these cakes, that’s all.”

  Mrs. Spell smiled and stirred her lemon water with a spoon. The silver clacked against the side and echoed in the kitchen. “See what being a great baker gets you? It gets you more work.” She patted Lilliana on the arm and examined the cakes. “They just smell divine, dear. When are you going to ice them?”

  “Once they are all baked and cooled,” she lied. She knew what Emmett had said about not icing the cake. Besides, if she iced them all, she would barely have time to sleep and then get back up and do it all over again tomorrow.

  For the next few weeks, her life was going to revolve around Hummingbird Cakes.

  “That’s great.” Mrs. Spell nodded and pulled the kitchen curtain back with her finger. “Ohhh, there’s Killian. I need to speak with him about not serving dinner tonight.” She set her cup down and hurried out of the kitchen.

  Lilliana took another sip and tried to quiet her racing heart. She needed to calm down and get a grip. It certainly wasn’t like they were dating.

  Or even serious about each other.

  They’d had one night of amazing sex.

  Utterly, enthralling, amazing sex that she could not get out of her mind, and now she was a basket case.

  “I knew better.” She set her cup down and moaned. She had a life ahead of her, and she needed to focus on that and her career.

  She cringed as she heard Mrs. Spell greet Killian in the hallway. She quickly turned her attention to getting the next layer of the Hummingbird Cake out of the oven.

  She put on oven mitts and pulled out the two cake pans of light-brown cake.

  She smiled as she set the pans on the counter to cool. The scent of sugar, cinnamon, and banana lingered in the air.

  It was a happy scent and took her back to her childhood when her mother would bake for every holiday.

  “Oh dear.” Mrs. Spell walked into the kitchen and shook her head. “Looks like our Killian is in a bad mood.”

  “Bad mood?” Lilliana jerked her head over to the older woman. “Did he say what’s bothering him?”

  “Oh no. And I didn’t ask. He just kept looking at the kitchen door.” Mrs. Spell picked up her cup and sighed. “He’s just probably put out because we aren’t serving dinner tonight.”

  “Really?” Her heart fell a little. She felt oddly like she’d let him down. Which was weird. She barely knew the Were.

  Deep inside, she knew that was a lie.

  Her body knew his in a way she’d never experienced with any other male. Human or Were.

  She held her breath and waited. The thud of his loud biker boots against the hardwood floor alerted her that he was moving…away from the kitchen and upstairs to his room.

  Disappointment washed over her.

  She shoved an escaped strand of hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. She needed to calm down and focus. Not on disappointing others, not on pleasing a male, but on her life and future.

  She knew in the end that’s all that mattered.

  Chapter 20

  It took everything within Killian to walk upstairs past the painted walls and not to go into the kitchen and find Lilliana.

  He knew she was in the house.

  He’d smelled her feminine scent the second he stepped inside the front door.

  His body had hardened immediately. Despite what he learned earlier about drugs in her cakes, he still wanted her.

  He shook his head and shoved the key into the door of his room. After locking it behind him, he tugged all his clothes off and walked naked into the bathroom. He turned on the water and didn’t bother waiting for it to heat. He stepped under the cool spray and allowed the water to cool his overheated, lust-driven body.

  He was a fucking Assassin. And one small sexy female had managed to make him fall to his knees with just her scent.

  Maybe she was some kind of spy. Sent in to occupy his mind and distract him with her gorgeous body.

  He scrubbed a hand down his face.

  He was fucked.

  Completely fucked.

&n
bsp; When he finished taking the world’s longest shower, he stepped out and wrapped a white towel around his hips. He didn’t bother drying off but walked into the bedroom. And froze.

  “I need to talk to you.” Lilliana stood there with an extra key in her hand. Her eyes widened, and her gaze dipped down to his towel.

  His cock hardened at the evident lust in her beautiful, blue eyes.

  “Yeah. I was thinking the same thing.” He needed to gain control over the situation and over her.

  He couldn’t go back to Barrett and tell him he was falling for a female who was happily baking meth into bird cakes.

  “How did you get another key?” He narrowed his eyes.

  “Mrs. Spell keeps a spare of all the rooms. Just in case.” She shrugged. “When you didn’t come into the kitchen, I was worried about you. Mrs. Spell said you seemed upset that we didn’t serve dinner tonight.” She shook her head. “I though you understood that I need this job at the bakery. I need the money so I can pay my mom back.”

  “At what price?” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared. Would she confide in him and tell him the truth, or when faced with the consequences of her action, would she lie?

  She flinched as if he had slapped her. “Excuse me? Do you think I should stop building my life and career just because I didn’t cook you dinner? Do you know how sexist that sounds?” Her eyes narrowed to slits, and she turned away. “I thought you were different from other guys out there, Killian. I guess I was wrong.”

  She reached for the door, but he was quicker. He grabbed her elbow.

  “Wait. We are not done. And this isn’t about some fucking dinner.” He spun her around so he could look into her eyes.

  “Then what is it about? I did nothing wrong, and you’re acting like I committed murder,” she ground out between gritted teeth.

  Fuck. Even angry, she was pretty.

  “Well, that’s what drugs do. They kill,” he spat out. He wanted her to feel the pain like he was.

  “What?” She looked at him like he had grown a third eye. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m talking about you being pissed at me because I didn’t cook dinner tonight. What is this drug talk?”