Blood Moon Read online

  “Yes, that’s…” Dom froze. “They set me up.”

  “No. I don’t think they did.”

  “How do you figure? Sarah, I was controlled…”

  “By a creature sent here to kill Damian, not me.”

  Dom cocked his head to the side, and I screamed with frustration that he wasn’t putting it altogether.

  “Think about it Dom! There are four people that I can fully trust; you, Donavan, Jared, and Damian.”

  “Go on.”

  “They sent Marcellus here to kill Damian. If he had succeeded, that would have taken care of one of my four. In doing so, the throne of Charleston would have been open to him, and I would be out of a safe place to live. Donavan should have killed you for killing his Weres. I should have been kicked out of the Clan for letting the dead Weres happen on my watch. I would have been out of another safe house as well as a Clan to protect me. Luckily, Donavan is more understanding than the BMC give him credit for. You, a vamp that would sacrifice his own life to keep me safe. Jared…” I couldn’t say any more, and Dom started nodding as he thought it over.

  “I can’t believe they would do this,” he said.

  Donavan came over as Dom said these words. “Who?”

  “The Blood Moon Corporation,” Dom and I said in unison.

  “We’ve got to tell Damian,” Dom said as he dug into his pocket for his phone.

  “There’s no need,” I said before he could pull it out. “He’s been in my head listening since I figured it out.”

  I felt Damian’s anger bubble over, and suddenly I saw Damian as though I actually stood in his office. His black hair, once long enough to touch his knees, now barely brushed his shoulders. His plum-colored eyes burned with anger as he pulled book after book off the bookcase against his back wall. His clothes were enough to make my mind want to go into shock. Usually he showed off his physique in leather pants and unbuttoned shirts. Tonight he wore sweatpants and a t-shirt. I felt like saying something, but after the loss of his once close friend Marcellus, maybe Damian wasn’t feeling like himself. I sensed that my body still remained in Donavan’s foyer, but my mind was back at Malevolent Dead. Damian looked up and cocked his head to the side.

  “This is a new development,” he said with a half smile. “Sorry, Sarah, but we’ll have to figure out what it means later.”

  “Your clothes?” I said before I could stop myself.

  “Ha ha, very funny. You’re astral projecting. Usually witches can develop that ability to be in two places at once. Since you aren’t a witch, I can only guess that our blood bound link has caused you to feel my…displeasure.”

  “And what? Brought me here to rage with you?”

  “In a way, yes.”

  “What are you doing?” My transparent hand indicated the books. Some of them looked new, with clean crisp pages. Others were ancient, with chipped covers and pages so brittle that they looked as though they would crumble with the slightest touch. Damian opened one, flipped through it so quickly that pieces of the book’s corner drifted to the table, and then tossed it back onto the shelf.

  “I’m trying to find a way to protect you, Sarah. This is ridiculous. You broke a contract. They should make you pay a fine, not try and kill you.”

  “We can’t tie them to it yet,” I reminded him. “We’re lacking physical evidence. You’ll need that if you plan on challenging them.”

  Damian growled, and I saw his fangs sparkle in the lamp’s light. “I’ll obliterate them all if they harm a hair on your head. I will not sit by and watch this happen.” He paused, and then whispered, “Not again.”

  If we hadn’t shared blood, then I would never had heard that. I had an uncanny resemblance to Damian’s deceased wife, Phaedra. For that reason alone Damian hired me onto his staff and gave me his blood. Originally he had hoped that I was his lost love reincarnated in another life, but I wasn’t. It was just my family’s random genes. I felt happy for that, because I’d be dead right now if I didn’t look like Phaedra, but it caused a lot of problems between us. Ever since we had shared blood, an experience that left us knowing each other carnally, Damian had treated me as though I was his dead wife, attempting to kiss me, calling me by her name, and making comments like he just did. I could ignore the comments, but everything else aggravated me.

  I had to find a way to reverse the connection that opened when I drank his blood. If I didn’t, I’d have to leave Malevolent Dead, and I had come to love the vampire club.

  “The books will help?” I asked, changing the subject.

  Damian laughed unpleasantly. “The BMC, as you call them, have not been around as long as I. There are rules that even they must follow, and I’m sure what they are doing to you is going against that.”

  Rules? Beside the BMC’s guidelines, I didn’t know of any other rules. Curious, I drifted to the table to look at the titles Damian shifted through.

  “Desmond would know,” Damian muttered to himself, “but he’s not allowed to tell. Damn that pompous fool.”

  Desmond was the full name of Dez, a blue-haired…thing…that lived at Malevolent Dead. I had first thought he was a vampire, but the more I grew to know him the more I realized that he was something else. He had the abilities of a born vampire, but with Damian around I could tell that he wasn’t. I would never describe Dez as pompous, but Damian seemed to know him better. He trusted him too. A feat that I hadn’t been able to do, since I was out of the loop when it came to his true identity. I wondered what he could know and who wouldn’t let him tell. Maybe when this was over, I could ask. For now…

  The thought created a pulling sensation in my middle. Damian glanced up.

  “Go with the flow, Sarah. Your soul needs to reconnect to your body. Fighting it will only cause pain.”

  “What do we do?”

  “Come back here. We can keep you safe. I’ll have Dez meet you in the parking lot.”

  “As soon as I’m finished, I’ll head back.”

  “I look forward to seeing you tonight.”

  I opened my mouth, when the pulling sensation yanked, and I returned to Donavan’s foyer.

  “Figured what out?” Donavan asked. It felt as though time stood still here, while I traveled to Damian’s. While I had been at Malevolent Dead I had felt safe. Now, I felt icy fear slide across my skin as I realized how bad everything was. I’d be lucky to make it back to Damian’s club alive.

  I wrapped my arms around myself. “What happened last week wasn’t the actions of a vamp wanting Damian’s throne,” I said, choosing to pick up where we had left off rather than try to explain what had just happened to me. “It was the BMC trying to kill me.”

  Chapter Three

  Donavan turned toward his living room. “Monique, call the Clan. Tell them to be on alert. We have a situation.”

  “What’s wrong?” she asked as she came walking into the room.

  “It’s a long story. Call an emergency meeting for an hour from now. I’ll have Sarah brief everyone then.”

  She nodded as she took the cordless phone from its cradle and headed back into the living room.

  “I’ll patrol your lands,” Dom volunteered as he watched Monique leave the room. “If anything is out of sorts, I’ll let you know.”

  “I appreciate it,” Donavan said as he grabbed my arm and pulled me deeper into his home. Once Dom closed the door on his way out, Donavan locked it.

  “You need to stay in here until we figure out what to do next,” Donavan said as he led me to his dining room table.

  “Damian said that he wants me back at Malevolent Dead,” I said, tapping my temple to indicate how I knew Damian’s wishes. “He seems to think that I’m safer there.”

  Donavan laughed. “He’s right, but we have to make sure you get there first.”

  I shook my head. “I doubt they’ll come after me right this second. The BMC can’t harm you directly, which is what will happen if they come for me here. They can’t take me out when I’m driving hom
e, because doing so will put innocent humans at risk. They have rules to follow, and they will follow them to the letter when they finally do come for me.”

  “How long will that be?”

  “After last week’s incident, not long. I’ll give it a day, two at most, before they show themselves.”

  Donavan paused in thought. “Do you have your gun?”

  I laughed. “You took it earlier, remember?”

  A smile crossed his face but didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll have Aminka get them. She’s with Monique.”

  I glanced in the direction of the living room. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Protect me. Risk yourselves.”

  Donavan came up to me, invading my personal space until he was in my face. I could feel his wolf, far stronger than mine, bearing down on me. It took a lot of will power to not avert my gaze from his. Most Weres would see my action as a challenge, but Donavan knew better. I had never belonged in a Clan. No one taught me when I was changed over. It would take a long time, before I stopped seeing him as my equal and start seeing him as my Romi, my alpha. Donavan would wait.

  “You are my Clansmen, Sarah, and second to me. You may not have been a part of us for long, but you are still Clan. We protect. It’s the way of the wolf.”

  He backed away, pulled out one of the chairs, and sat down. I walked around the table, choosing to sit across from him rather than beside. I leaned back and crossed my arms, waiting for whatever was going to happen next. Over the next thirty minutes, Weres from Donavan’s Clan showed up. They never bothered to knock like I had when I came over earlier. They walked through the front door like they lived here, greeted Monique and Aminka, and came into the dining room to join us. By the time Donavan stood and banged his fist on the table to call the meeting to order, over thirty Weres were packed into Donavan’s dining room.

  I felt a wave of guilt at Donavan’s small numbers. When I had first met the DeLocket Clan, we had to meet in the living room because there were so many members, but our raid on Malevolent Dead to kill Jerrikin and Jackilin Skyner six months ago cost the Clan many of its member’s lives. No one ever blamed me, at least not to my face. I knew from the hostile looks I received during the full moon that they did though.

  “We have a code red situation,” Donavan said. His voice sounded firm and authoritative. I felt his presence sweep over the room, the Romi leading his Clan. “You may remember that Sarah quit the Blood Moon Corporation around the same time she joined our Clan. We’ve gotten word they are trying to kill her for breaking her contract.”

  “Word from who?” Jensen Stevenson asked. Jensen had been a lone wolf until a group of rogue Weres captured his human girlfriend and tortured her in an attempt to make him join their group. Jensen refused, asking for our help to save Juliet, but it was too late. She lived, but she now ran with us during the full moon. To give her the best chance at a normal life, they joined Donavan’s Clan. Jensen’s dirty blonde hair shaded his steel blue eyes, and I could tell that he had been working in his garage before he came here. He had car grease under his fingernails and oil smeared across the thighs of his jeans. Juliet sat next to him, an arm laced through his that sported an expensive looking diamond on her ring finger. I felt happy for them and their new development.

  “From the Blood Moon Corporation,” I said. The Clan members started talking at once, sounding to my ears like static rather than individual conversations. Donavan slammed his fist on the table again, and the Clan quieted their talking down to whispers.

  “Are you sure?” Juliet asked with her long, black hair pulled up in a ponytail and her green eyes red-rimmed from crying. Becca MacGregor, one of the deceased Weres, had been her best friend.

  “We’re positive,” Donavan said. “The recent events of the past week weren’t a coincidence. They have been after Sarah, trying to use whatever means they could as to not look directly responsible. Pity for them and good for us, Sarah is smarter than what they gave her credit for.” Donavan pulled out his cell phone. “This is the most recent picture I could find of Rose Mykal.” He held up his phone for everyone to see. “If you see this little, old lady, run like hell the other way. She’s not as fragile as she looks.”

  “Are we to protect Sarah?” a brunette in the far corner asked. I had met her before, but I couldn’t remember her name.

  “She is going back to Malevolent Dead where Damian will protect her. As her Clansmen, we will do whatever is needed to make sure she gets out of this alive.”

  “Even going up against the BMC?” the brunette asked. “Are you crazy? They’ll kill us.”

  “Then we will die with honor,” Donavan said. His voice grew deep and reverberated around the room. The Weres in the room dropped their gazes, several of them falling to their knees, as full weight of the Romi fell down on them. Besides myself, only Jensen and Juliet maintained their gazes and posture. I smiled. They were strong together. I could imagine them as Romi and Roma of a Clan one day.

  “Jensen, could you walk Sarah to the door and keep an eye on her until she is safely in her car? I think it’s time for her to get back.”

  My blood ran cold at the instant reminder of my danger as I stood. Jensen walked ahead of me, opening the front door for me and standing at its entrance as I walked across the gravel to my car.

  I had started out thinking of the steel blue Mustang as a company car since Damian gave it as a gift, but I had grown attached to it. He would have to kill me to get the Stang back. As I opened the door I remembered that Donavan had taken my weapons. I didn’t want to go back, and I smiled when I saw that I didn’t have to. Aminka walked over to me from her car with my Walther P22 and twin throwing knives in her hands. I didn’t even pause to put everything back in its place. I tossed the weapons on the passenger seat, climbed in, and started the car.

  I drove to Malevolent Dead with my radio on full blast, wishing that the heavy metal would calm my shaky hands and frazzled nerves. Every shadow, every sudden movement made me ready myself for the worst. By the time I pulled into Malevolent Dead’s parking lot, I was a tense mess.

  Dez met me in the parking lot. I found it unusual for a strong vampire to be out this late, but I had already figured out that Dez was no ordinary vampire. What he was, though, was still shrouded in mystery. I looked the blue haired vamp over. His labret piercing shimmered in the waning moonlight and his blue eyes, which should have been black if he were indeed a vampire, shone with amusement. As usual, he wore a Metallica t-shirt, jeans, and Converse sneakers. I didn’t know much about him, and there was so much I couldn’t trust. I think he felt that, but didn’t seem to care about it.

  “Damian called T.D.. That witch,” he spat the word like a curse, “should be here shortly.”

  “Why?”

  “He seems to think you need protection, but if the Guild is after you, no amount of protection will help.”

  I followed him inside. My mind reflected on his name for the BMC, The Guild. They dropped that title in the 1920s. Either Dez worked for them once upon a time, or he was old enough to remember when they had been called the Blood Moon Guild. Dez smelled like a new vampire and looked like he was changed over at seventeen. Every sense told me to kill him before he killed me, but my faith in Damian kept that in check. If the born vampire could trust him, I could wait a little longer before shoving a stake in his heart.

  Dez left to go find Damian as I made my way up to my bedroom. It wasn’t until my hand reached for my holster to put my gun on my dresser that I realized I left my Walther P22 and the rest of my weapons in my car’s passenger seat.

  “Hell,” I muttered as I removed the holster and knife sheaths and tossed them in the corner of the room. I walked into the bathroom, showered, slid on my Hello Kitty pajamas and then climbed into bed. Normally I’d be up until 1am helping Damian manage his club, Malevolent Dead, but tonight I just couldn’t. My mind felt jumbled, and I’d probably think that some innocent person was a BM
C assassin and get them killed.

  I lay in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling as I waited for my mind to quiet down.

  It didn’t.

  I rolled onto my side and opened the part of me connected to Damian.

  “What’s going on?” I asked aloud, knowing he would hear me.

  “I’ve assigned guards to every entrance and exit.” His ancient accent slid through my mind like molten chocolate. “There’s nothing more we can do until they attack.”

  “Do you think they will?” I asked aloud.

  “I don’t know what to think. I’m basing my tactics on the armies of my youth.”

  “Good thing you’ve been around for a while. You must know every trick in the book.”

  I felt him laugh. “And then some.”

  The words felt like they should come from an intimate lover and I blushed.

  “I can join you, if you want.”

  I almost laughed at the hesitant tone of Damian’s voice. Almost. When I drank his blood, we crossed a line, and I started to wonder if things would ever be the same again. The more we talked to each other, I saw the look in his eyes or I heard the tone in his voice, I realized that we couldn’t go back. We no longer had an employer/employee relationship. He wanted more because I looked like his dead wife.

  I was in love, with Jared.

  I cut our connection before Damian sensed my pain. I rolled onto my other side as grief ate at me and sighed. The action caused me to pick up a scent. Gun powder and Dove soap mixed with the musk of a wolf. I reached under my pillow and pulled out one of Jared’s muscle tees. My gut cramped and a sob wrenched itself from my body.

  Just as quickly, it was over. The pain of loss disappeared and determination replaced it.

  I now had Jared’s scent. With that, plus my enhanced abilities, I could find him anywhere. Once I found his body, I’d find the scent of his murderer.

  Revenge.

  I knew this feeling well. We had been friends for the better half of five years. The last six months had derailed me, making me forget who I was.

  I was Sarah Vargas, uberwerewolf. The BMC stole the man I loved. I wanted to kill them. Tossing the covers aside I stalked into the bathroom, digging in the cabinet under the sink until I found what I looked for. Twenty-five minutes later I rinsed the black dye from my hair, letting my guilt and grief wash down the drain along with the excess color. Those emotions would get me nowhere. I let my rage envelop me. I wasn’t going to hide here, waiting for them to attack. Tomorrow I would hunt them down. The Blood Moon Corporation would regret coming after me.