Beneath a Blood Moon (67 page)

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Authors: R. J. Blain

Tags: #Fiction, #Urban Fantasy

BOOK: Beneath a Blood Moon
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“You’re probably right. This is going to make them both insufferable for years, but I guess I should throw him a bone.” Straightening, Richard considered the arguing couple. He wrinkled his nose and muttered, “This is going to be embarrassing.”

“What are you going to do?” I hissed.

“Humiliate myself in the interest of temporary peace.”

“Can’t you just ask them to stop?”

“By all means, try.”

I cleared my throat. They kept arguing. “Hey, maybe we should—”

Without halting in her stream of insults, Wendy flung the throw pillow from her chair at me, and it smacked me in the face. Pain radiated from my nose, and with a startled cry, I clapped my hands to my face.

My nose bled.

“Let me see,” Richard demanded.

With tears in my eyes, I lowered my hands. Taking hold of my chin, Richard seized my nose and jerked. I stiffened as pain stabbed through my face and head, so strong I couldn’t even scream.

“She broke your nose with a pillow. Unbelievable. Give it a few minutes and it’ll heal fine.” Circling around the couch, he grabbed the box of tissues from the coffee table, pulled a few out, and handed them to me. “Mom, you broke Sara’s nose. Dad, why the fuck did you let Mom break Sara’s nose?”

Desmond and Wendy whirled around to face Richard. As what he said sank in, both jerked in my direction.

“That hurt,” I complained, grimacing at the odd way my voice sounded. “What did I do?”

All of the color drained out of Wendy’s face. “Sara, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…”

Desmond pointed at Richard. “You called me Dad.”

“Sara was trying to ask you if there’s a reason we can’t set Seattle’s pack on the traitors, lure them and Mr. Watson out all at the same time, and turn it into a bloodbath. Wendy, you can even play along as bait. We’ll ship you two ladies somewhere remote with a light guard consisting of your beautiful daughters. The rest of us will go ahead, pick somewhere nice and quiet to flush them out, and put an end to this.”

Turning to Wendy, Desmond blurted, “He called me Dad.”

Richard sighed. “You’re obviously so tired you’re hallucinating, Desmond.”

I giggled, and careful not to wake Sanders, I freed myself from his embrace. “Would Richard really say something like that?”

“Exactly. He’s completely delusional. He wants to hear me say it so badly he’s hallucinating it while fighting with his mate. How far he’s fallen. Come to the bathroom, Sara. I’ll help take care of the mess and do something about your hair. It was bad before, but now you have the added bonus of blood to help mat it even further.”

Desmond scowled. “I heard you say it. You heard him, didn’t you, Wendy?”

“I heard him call me Mom, something he’s done on several occasions. You’re jealous and simply wish for his affection.” Wendy held her hands up in a helpless gesture of surrender. “I can’t help it he likes me more than he likes you.”

“I’m positive I heard him call me Dad.”

“Nonsense.” Richard grinned, herding me into the bathroom. “Nice try, Desmond. Keep dreaming.”

It took less than an hour for the worst of the pain from my broken nose to fade. With Richard’s help, I got the blood and tangles out of my hair, although by the time we finished, I contemplated shaving my head to avoid repeating the experience.

“I’m really sorry,” Wendy whined.

I had lost count of the number of times she had apologized. It took every bit of my willpower to contain my sigh of frustration. “It’s fine, Wendy. All that’s left is a little bit of a bruise.”

“It’s my fault. I was egging Wendy on. I like it when she gets so feisty,” Desmond admitted.

“I’ll consider forgiving you if you come up with a plan where I can help put an end to this,” I growled. I grabbed the front of my shirt, pulled it away from my chest, and glared at the bloodstains. When I peeked at my bra, I was relieved to find it had been spared from my bleeding nose. “This is ruined.”

With a shrug, I pulled my shirt over my head and whipped it in Wendy’s direction, smacking her in the face with it. “Turnabout is fair play.”

Richard turned around and sighed. “Please put your clothes back on.”

“What? I’m wearing a bra, Richard. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a woman in a bra before.” I shook my head, returning to the couch to be near my mate. “If you haven’t, perhaps I’ll have to take you and Nicolina to a nice club so you can get some experience.”

Choking in an effort not to laugh, Desmond likewise averted his eyes. “She will, too.”

“Desmond, why are
you
looking elsewhere? You’ve seen me naked before.”

“I certainly haven’t forgotten that fact,” Wendy murmured, glaring at her mate.

“Sanders required adult supervision!”

“Doesn’t that immediately exclude you?” Richard asked, sitting on the floor beside Nicolina. “Sanders will kill us if he catches us staring at you, Sara. Please put some clothes on. Or a towel.
Something
. That bra isn’t exactly much in the way of coverage.”

I stared down at my chest and scowled. The bra was made of a great deal of lace with just enough support to make sure I had an ample amount of cleavage. “My shirt’s covered in blood, Richard. I’m not wearing a bloody shirt.”

Hopping off the chair, Wendy went into the adjacent bedroom, returning moments later with one of Desmond’s dress shirts. “You won’t fit in any of mine, but you can take one of his.”

“I’ll swim in it,” I complained, taking the shirt and stuffing my arms into the sleeves. Knowing it would annoy Richard, I left enough of the upper buttons undone to keep my cleavage visible. Wrinkling my nose, I perched on the edge of the couch beside Sanders.

“It helps if you button it,” Yellowknife’s Alpha grumbled. “All the way up.”

“Prude.”

“A self-preserving prude.”

“Scaredy cat. Meow,” I countered before sticking my tongue out at him.

My mate snaked his arm around my waist and tugged me close. “Are you causing trouble again, Sara?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you,” he murmured, burying his nose against my ribs. “Why do you smell like Desmond?”

“I’m wearing his shirt. Go back to sleep, Sanders.”

“Why are you wearing his shirt?”

“Apparently, I’m not allowed to run around in my bra. It’s not fair,” I whined.

My mate lifted his head and cracked open his eyes. “No free shows. Charge them what you think you’re worth multiplied by a thousand so it’s at least a little closer to what you’re actually worth. I’ll write up a bill later.” Yawning, he rested his head on my leg and closed his eyes.

Richard laughed. “That was not the response I was expecting from you, Sanders.”

“Pay up, Richard. You saw my beautiful wife in a bra I bought her,” my mate mumbled. He sniffed. “Why do I smell blood?”

“Wendy broke my nose while fighting with her mate. It got on my shirt, so I took it off,” I reported.

Sighing, my mate sat up, rubbing his eyes. He took hold of my chin, turning my head each way to examine my nose. “It looks straight. How did Wendy manage to break your nose? And wasn’t that
my
shirt?”

I grinned at my mate. “My shirt. I stole it fair and square.”

“It was a pillow,” Wendy whispered. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to throw it so hard.”

“Wait.
You
were fighting with Desmond, Wendy? And I missed it? Who won?”

Desmond made a pleased noise in his throat. “It was a draw, and I really hope she decides to continue the discussion at a later time. She’s glorious when she’s angry. Pregnancy makes her so much fun.”

“Charles!”

“You could be ripping his fur out and he’d like it, Wendy,” Richard grumbled.

“So, why are we still awake? It’s too early to be awake. What’s going on?” Sanders rubbed his eyes again, yawned, and flopped onto my lap. “Next time you give a show, wake me, Sara.”

“Sara was preparing to take over the pack by force so she could have her own army to deal with her father and those who wanted to unseat you as Alpha, Sanders. She’s really pretty when she’s angry,” Desmond stated.

“She’s really pretty all of the time, Desmond. No, you can’t steal… wait, what?” My mate rolled onto his back to stare up at me with narrowed eyes. “I need coffee for this. You want to do what with the pack? He’s yanking my tail, right?”

I bent down to kiss the tip of my mate’s nose. “Only a little. I thought it was a good idea. If the pack cares about you that much, they’ll want to help, and those who thought getting rid of me was in your best interest will turn on those who wanted to get rid of you, right? It was just an idea.”

“A damned good idea,” Richard muttered. “She’s full of them, once she decides to speak up and share them. If you’re not careful, she’s going to develop an ego worse than Desmond’s.”

The amber gleam in my mate’s eyes brightened, and his smile pleased my wolf. “Impossible.”

Desmond shook his head and sighed. “For your sake, Sara, I hope you have a daughter. Daughters grow up to become delightful women, the pride and joy of any household. Sons are a royal pain in the ass from day one and remain that way.”

Richard scowled at Desmond, shook his head, and muttered something too soft for me to make out.

“Why can’t we use the whole pack to put an end to everything?” I asked, flicking my mate’s ear with my finger. He yelped, jerked upright, and retreated to the other side of the couch. At my wolf’s urging, I stalked after him, pouncing in his direction.

Sanders scrambled over the other end of the couch, warding me away with crossed fingers. “I never said we couldn’t.”

I crouched, balancing on the couch’s arm, narrowing my eyes as I considered my mate. “We end this, and I get to help. He wants you dead. For that, I’ll destroy him,” I swore.

My mate stilled and stared at me, his eyes the amber I so loved. Every time they burned fire bright, I felt the wolf in him lurking right beneath the surface, the wild, untamed side of him I couldn’t get enough of.

“What is it about pregnancy that makes bitches so vicious?” Richard complained. “Quiet, calm, exceptionally sweet Wendy becomes a demon thirsting for blood. Sara’s not much different, although she’s less likely to turn cushions into dangerous projectiles.”

“I’m so sorry,” Wendy whispered.

“It’s fine, Wendy. Really. Richard made it all better,” I said, turning towards my Alpha female. “Stop apologizing. I’m not mad.”

Taking advantage of my distraction, my mate lunged for me, caught me by the waist, and drove me down onto the couch, pinning me beneath him. “
I’ll
destroy those who want to come between us. You can watch and help a little,” he growled.

I considered his words and protective behavior, narrowing my eyes at the possessive way he held me. Unable to help myself, I smiled. “I can live with that.”

I had expected resistance from my mate, but the Shadow Pope proved to be the sticking point in my plan to deal with my father and his cohorts personally. The conversation, conducted in growls, snarls, and snapped phrases, woke Alex, Lisa, and Nicolina, who listened without saying a word.

The persistent way the Shadow Pope denied Wendy and I the right to participate infuriated my wolf. Swallowing back a growl, I eyed Desmond’s phone, wondering how upset he would be if I destroyed the infernal thing.

“Sir, with all due respect, I really doubt we’ll be able to flush them all out without at least Sara present,” Desmond said. I had lost count of how many times he had reiterated the point.

I sighed and kept my mouth shut. Screaming wasn’t going to help my cause. While I was sorely tempted to argue with the Shadow Pope, I forced myself to be patient.

No matter what decree the Inquisition’s leader made, I’d find a loophole, and when I did, I’d help put an end to those threatening my mate once and for all.

Part of me was secretly still daddy’s little girl, and she grieved. For Sanders, for my puppy, and for my mother, I would help murder my own father. How many more lives would I have to take before I could put the past behind me and really start a new life with my mate?

“There are many ways we can lure out the perpetrators without exposing Mrs. Sanders or your mate to them. When you come up with a proposal that doesn’t involve either one of them, call me.” The Shadow Pope hung up.

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