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  Blood Moon

  Book Three Of

  The Sarah Vargas Series

  By

  Heather Kuehl

  Eternal Press

  A division of Damnation Books, LLC.

  P.O. Box 3931

  Santa Rosa, CA 95402-9998

  www.eternalpress.biz

  Blood Moon:

  Book Three Of The Sarah Vargas Series

  by Heather Kuehl

  Digital ISBN: 978-1-61572-306-5

  Print ISBN: 978-1-61572-307-2

  Cover art by: Amanda Kelsey

  Edited by: Ellen Tevault

  Copyedited by: Rose Vera Stepney

  Copyright 2011 Heather Kuehl

  Printed in the United States of America

  Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights

  1st North American and UK Print Rights

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Note from the Author

  Proceeds from this book will go to the MUSC Children’s Hospital in Charleston, South Carolina. It is through their hard work and dedication that children can lead full, healthy lives.

  In December 2008, my son was diagnosed with pyloric stenosis, a condition in which the muscle exiting the stomach closes and prevents nutrients from being absorbed by the body. What this meant was my son spent a good week and a half throwing up whatever he ate. He was constantly cranky and fussy, and honestly you would be too if you weren’t able to keep any food down.

  While pyloric stenosis is fatal if not treated, my husband and I were reassured over and over again by all the MUSC staff that the surgery would be a quick one and that we’d have a happy baby to bring home. At three weeks old my son underwent surgery to repair the closed muscle. He was admitted on a Wednesday and released on a Friday, the surgery taking place on a Thursday and lasting for only thirty minutes. True to their word, we had a very happy baby to bring home. The Sunday after his surgery we were blessed with his first smile.

  At the time of this book’s publication my son is two years old; happy and healthy thanks to the wonderful staff at MUSC Children’s Hospital.

  My son is just one of the hundreds of children that MUSC Children’s Hospital helps each year. Learn more about them at http://www.musckids.com.

  For Cameron Ronnie

  I’d like to thank Robin Dade, Brian Kuehl, and Rodney Coons for their help in editing my original draft and answering questions. If I’m ever stuck and need to vent, you guys are always there to listen. Thank you.

  Chapter One

  It was a good thing Donavan confiscated my weapons.

  I shook with anger, doing my damnedest not to give away my newly acquired talent for changing into my wolf form without the aid of a full moon. Donavan wouldn’t understand, would ask me to explain, but even I didn’t fully understand it. Damian insisted that this side effect of me drinking his blood was temporary. However he didn’t feel what I did. I could feel the power from his blood coursing through my veins, keeping me strong. It wasn’t fading. It was attaching itself to my very being. The super strength and speed I could write off as being a werewolf. The changing whenever would probably get me shoved into a lab somewhere with scientists thinking that I was the missing link to curing the Were virus. Right now, I was caring less and less about the repercussions. Changing and ripping Donavan’s face off was looking like the best idea ever.

  I positioned myself between my Romi, or Clan alpha, and my vampire mentor. Like hell I was going to let Donavan kill Dom, especially over something that wasn’t his fault. My hands balled up into fists with nails drawing blood from my palms.

  “Sarah, if you’ll move, I’ll render my verdict,” said Donavan, fear clearly expressed in his voice. His long, black hair swayed in the breeze that traveled through the trees around us. We were in the woods surrounding the house that Donavan and his wife, Monique, shared. I knew why Donavan picked this spot. This was the location where I found Daniel Warren’s body, one of the Weres that Dom killed while under Marcellus’s influence. My keen eye sight could see the dried blood on the leaves under our feet and my nose could still smell the Were’s death.

  “It wasn’t his fault!” I growled. “You can’t punish him for something he didn’t do.”

  “That is my decision to make, not yours. Now step aside, Sarah Vargas, before I beat you aside.”

  The threat made my heart race and my eyes shift over to wolfish amber. A growl slipped past my lips as I readied myself for a fight.

  Dominick Silva, vampire and (at one time) my teacher, had shown up at Donavan’s house today to accept his punishment for killing three Weres. Like I was trying to explain to Donavan, it wasn’t Dom’s fault for those murders. Marcellus, a vampire necromancer who had power over all dead things, controlled the vampire. The three Weres had been avenged when I cut off Marcellus’s head and a coven of witches bound his power. That didn’t make Dom feel better about his crimes, and the moment Donavan returned home Dom organized this meeting.

  While I respected my mentor, I refused to stand by and watch him be punished for something that wasn’t his fault.

  Aminka Silvermoon, seer and healer for the DeLocket Clan stood at Donavan’s left. Her gray hair was pulled back in a braid, and I wondered how a woman so young could have such gray hair. Her eggshell white eyes looked at each of us. I had seen her drive a car, so I knew for a fact that the woman could see. I had never met another seer before, so maybe the white eyes were part of that package. Normally Donavan’s right hand man would have been standing beside her on Donavan’s right, but I was busy at the moment. Aminka smiled at me and placed a hand on Donavan’s shoulder.

  “She still has Damian’s blood in her,” Aminka cautioned. “You’d loose the Clan if you fought her right now.”

  Donavan looked into the seer’s white eyes and slowly nodded. It made me wonder how much she told him, how much she knew.

  Ice cold fingers gently squeezed my shoulder, and I turned my head and look at Dom, wincing as the motion stretched the fresh scar tissue across my neck. That’s what I got for fighting with vampires. Dom’s shaved head reflected the crescent moon’s light as his black eyes cautioned me. He still wore the silver caps over his fangs and the multiple piercings in his ears. I would have tried to look my best for a moment such as this, but Dom had decided that looking like himself was the way to go. He wore black jeans tucked into a pair of strappy leather boots and a dark gray dress shirt. He wore silver rings on his pinky fingers, and I watched the moonlight reflect off the ring on the hand holding me. The cold from his fingers seeped into my skin, killing the heat that my rage had produced. My heart slowed and my eyes gradually turned from amber to human blue. As soon as he felt sure I was calm, he released me and stepped forward.

  Surprise written all over his face, Donavan looked between me and the vampire.

  “You can turn her off?” he asked. What did he think I am, some sort of homicidal robot?

  “In a way,” Dom answered. “I spent years training her and discovered all of her little quirks. Given some time, I’m sure you will learn them too.”

  “If she lets me.”

  I sighed. “Hello, standing right here.”

  “That you are,” said Dom and Donavan in unison.

  “I believe your s
tory,” said Donavan, reverting back into his Clan alpha role. “Marcellus has already been taken care of, and I see no reason to punish you. However, my Clan will demand retribution.”

  “I understand,” Dom whispered as he started to unbutton his shirt. Moonlight shone on his pale skin and silver piercings. I knew what was going to happen next. I laced my fingers in his and turned my head. I wasn’t going to have the last image of my friend be him dissolving into dust.

  “No, you don’t.” Donavan walked over to Dom and placed the wooden stake into my hands.

  “Dominick Silva, my decision is for you to live.”

  I squealed in delight, and Donavan glared at me until I fell silent.

  “He will live but, if he murders again, you will be the one to dispose of him, Sarah. He’s your responsibility now.”

  My delight faded as Donavan’s words sunk in, if he ever murdered again. Donavan never specified. It didn’t matter what he killed, if Dom took another life it was now my duty to take his.

  “How will he feed?” I asked.

  “I can feed without killing, Sarah. You know that.” Dom smiled at me. “You needn’t worry.”

  I did though. I didn’t like having my mentor’s life in my hands. I looked up at Aminka, wanting to ask if she knew his fate but too afraid to do so. Donavan and Dom started talking about the Clan’s security. Dom offered to patrol Donavan’s woods in case a rogue creature happened by. While the odds of that happening twice was slim…oh wait. It already had. We had rogue Weres a while back, and then Dom. Dom’s idea was sound, and Donavan seemed to agree.

  I look a deep breath and slowly crossed from my mentor’s side to my Romi’s. I took my place at Donavan’s right, glancing over at Aminka as she brushed my arm with her fingertips. She didn’t look at me, but the gesture paired with the small smile on her lips told me that I didn’t have to worry about Dom’s fate. As long as he abided by Donavan’s rules, everything would be golden.

  My thoughts wandered as the pair talked about things that didn’t concern me. I was starting to hate these woods. I had to explain three dead bodies to the police here. I killed Jackilin Skyner, one half of the previous Lords of Charleston before Damian took over, about a mile to the north. Also, I threw a silver dagger into the heart of…

  I stopped my mind from filling in the rest of the thought. My heart couldn’t take thinking of him, and I felt quite sure I’d go catatonic if I did.

  “If you’ll come with me, I’ll introduce you to Monique.”

  Donavan’s words cut through my mind and I pulled myself back to the present. Dom followed Donavan through the woods, leaving Aminka and I behind.

  “They’ll be friends soon enough,” said Aminka with that same small smile. “Donavan’s already thinking that it’s too soon for him to forgive the vamp so much.”

  “You can read his thoughts?” I asked, thinking of my connection with Damian.

  Aminka shook her head. “No, but I know my Romi well.”

  She held out her hand to me, playing the part of a blind woman. I took it, not having the guts to tell her to find her own way back. She was on Donavan’s left for a reason, and I had yet to see exactly what it was.

  Donavan lived in a green farmhouse accented with rust red trim and matching shutters. I noticed that the white paint on the porch was starting to peel, and made a mental note to tell Dom to fix it one night. It was out in the middle of nowhere, perfect for Donavan and his Clan. This house was tucked away in the woods off of Highway 176 in Randa, South Carolina. He owned enough land that he and his Clan could roam free on the nights of the full moon and not worry about anyone coming across them. I wondered how he acquired the land in the first place, but I had a feeling that his family passed it down. A lot of Weres did that if being a Were was a family trait. In a way it kept their future children and grandchildren safe. It was handy and quite thoughtful. Monique sat in one of the rocking chairs on the porch with a blanket strewn across her lap, and smiled to us as we walked up. Bending over, Donavan kissed her cheek as he laid a careful hand on her stomach.

  Monique had swept her corn silk blonde hair back into a loose bun. Her light brown eyes had a circle of black at the edge of the irises, the mark of the witch. I often wondered how Donavan kept his Clan after marrying a witch, but seeing his loyalty and mercy over the last several months made me realize that they followed him because they wanted to, not because they had to.

  Dom knelt down on one knee with his eyes trained on the ground. His right hand balled up into a fist and covered his heart as his left hand kept him balanced. I had seen the vampires at Malevolent Dead do this to Damian, and thought it was something he made them do. Seeing the gesture now, I knew it as a sign of respect.

  Monique smiled as Dom stood. “I see things went well,” she said as she looked over to her husband. “I told you that you weren’t going to kill him.”

  The truest love I had ever seen filled the smile on Donavan’s face. It tore at me and I struggled to keep my face blank. “You know me so well, my love. Dominick wants to get a scent of your magic.”

  “So you can tell friend from foe?” she asked, facing Dom. “You’re very thorough.”

  “I try to be, my lady.” Dom closed the gap between him and the witch before he knelt down again. “May I?” he asked as he held out his hand.

  Monique put her delicate hand in his and he raised it to his nose. Mouth parted and silver fangs showing, Dom inhaled her scent like a great jungle cat. Donavan stiffened as the wolf within him sensed his mate’s danger, but Donavan wasn’t Romi because his butt looked good in the jeans he wore. I looked into his ice blue eyes and could see he controlled of his wolf-half. I doubted Aminka, Dom, or even Monique noticed the battle going on within the alpha wolf, but I did. I did my fair share of controlling the wolf within me. I knew that look well.

  Dom carefully placed Monique’s hand back in her lap and stood. “Thank you, my dear.”

  “You’re very welcome,” Monique said with a small smile. “I’d ask you to stay for dinner, but I’m afraid that I don’t keep your preference in stock.”

  “Quite alright, dear witch.”

  Monique eased herself up, letting the blanket fall into the chair. Donavan rushed to her side in seconds, one hand across her shoulders and the other gently cupping her stomach, a very extended stomach.

  “You didn’t know?” asked Aminka as Donavan helped his pregnant wife inside.

  I shook my head. “How far along is she?”

  “I guesstimated six months. It’s hard to tell with Weres.”

  “But she’s a witch.”

  “Hence the reason they are keeping it quiet. Not everyone will approve of a half witch half werewolf baby.”

  “I see nothing wrong with it,” said Dom as he walked over to us, “and they do look truly happy.”

  Dom was right about that. Since love vibrated around them, I turned away. An irrational part of me thought it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all that they got to be so happy. I pushed that part aside and forced myself to be happy for them.

  Dom followed them inside, and I watched my mentor and my Romi as they made my Roma comfortable in the recliner.

  Would I ever have someone like Donavan to take care of me? To love me?

  You did, I chided myself, and now…

  I couldn’t. Not now. I felt the walls I built within me crumble, and I braced myself for the worst.

  Chapter Two

  Jared.

  His name tore through my mind and it took all of my will power to keep me from crying out. It had been less than a week since I found out that Jared wasn’t in the Blood Moon Corporation’s system anymore. No phone number. No forwarding address. Nothing. That only meant one thing…

  They killed him.

  It made no sense.

  Why would they kill him? He didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one that broke my contract. I was the one that almost killed Jared. It should have been me!

  They had enough chan
ces over the past six months to take me out. My three mile jog every morning had me pass Haven, a BMC-owned home on East Battery Street. They could have easily taken me out from the second story window and made it look like a mugging gone wrong. They didn’t have to kill Jared.

  I felt an icy hand on my shoulder. Dom leaned against me, giving me the comfort I needed without making my inner turmoil obvious.

  At times, I loved my mentor. It was a pity the BMC let him go. So many people like me needed a teacher like him.

  Just like Jared’s death, the BMC’s abandonment of Dom made no sense. Why would they get rid of one of their best teachers?

  I gasped as it came to me as clearly as a premonition. I felt my connection with Damian flair as my mind went into shock, putting pieces together that I didn’t know fit. It couldn’t be…

  It made too much sense not to.

  I looked up at Dom. “Why didn’t the BMC save you from Marcellus?” I asked with my voice barely above a whisper.

  It was the most obvious question, one that should have been asked the moment the vampire necromancer died. I had been too busy grieving over Jared to think straight.

  Damian kept the metaphysical lines between us open, listening but careful not to say a word to distract me. I could feel him in my head, and I didn’t mind, one less person to tell.

  Dom looked into my eyes and I could see indecision filling their black depths. He sighed as he backed away, and I thought that he decided not to tell when he faced me and said, “They ordered me to kill you.”

  “And?” I asked. My blood ran cold. I felt the wolf inside me tense, preparing for an attack.

  “I refused,” Dom growled with disbelief written on his features. “Sarah, you’re like a daughter to me. I could never cause you harm.”

  “What did the BMC do?”

  “They said that they understood. The next day they sent me to take out Marcellus.”

  I licked my lips. “They sent a vampire to kill a vampire necromancer?”