The Midwife's Moon (10 page)

“Well,” Justin said, running a gentle hand down Heather’s cheek. “I guess we’re visiting eastern Washington.”

“You think that’s safe?” Roxy objected.

“Not in the slightest, but if we’re careful, we can be in and out with no one the wiser. Your headquarters will be all but deserted with the melding of the two packs. Until the Ulfric repurposes it, the lodge will remain that way. I’m sure you know the back roads in.”

Justin’s condescending tone grated hard on her nerves. “You can take Boris.”

“I’ll be taking both of you,” Justin said quietly.

Roxy felt a queer rush of need to please Justin flow over her but resisted. “Why do you need both of us?”

“In case there’s trouble. You’ll have a better grasp of who’s friend or foe, and while bruiser here is useful, you’re the lupa.”

“Not anymore,” she said, resentful he’d push that in her face.

“Not everyone likes the new arrangements.”

That caught her attention. She’d assumed... If she found out there were enough willing to rebel against Nolan, she could get her lodge back. “Fine, I’ll tag along.” The idea of killing him on the restricted lands rolled through her mind again. Since she was a refugee and wanted for questioning for murder, she couldn’t kill him just yet. But oh, she wanted to. How she wanted to dig her claws in his flesh and tear a huge piece out while he bled.

“Roxy, you’ll be there at my side where you belong,” he said and smiled at her. She swore Heather smirked before looking down.

Her fists had movement under the skin as her wolf fought for supremacy so she could indulge in the hot anger that lived in her. She placed her hands behind her back to hide the tell tale signs. “Of course,” she replied. “I’ll go get ready. When are we leaving?”

***

Lisa didn’t know what to think of her actions during the pack justice court—and she’d agreed to meet a stranger for drinks. Elizabeth and Marty came with her, but her palms were sweaty as she held tightly to her purse while threading her way through the bar’s patrons.

Finally, she saw him. His coppery skin glowed under the soft bar light, and his eyes pierced her as they perused her. The beast within roared in her head louder than it had been since her first lunar change. Not an angry roar, more an enthusiastic greeting.

In the pack warehouse, she’d wanted to stand close and just
smell
him. His scent called to her; said freedom, safety, light. Things she hadn’t felt since she’d become a werewolf. Even with all of her Elite Guard training and self-defense techniques, she’d been wary. Distrustful of anyone, she spent the years looking for the bad, wondering when the person she met would drop the other shoe. Elizabeth had worked her way in closer than all others in the last few years.

But now,
him.

He stood as she neared the table. “Lisa.” Her name caressed the air, turning the atmosphere around the two of them into an intimate, cozy world where no one else existed. “I’m Lance,” he continued in the same tone.

Her arms broke out in goose bumps. She wanted to feel that breath, that mouth all over her body. Her nipples strained against the fabric, bringing her focus to them as she resisted the urge to rub them to take care of some of the ache. His eyes glanced down as well, and when they met hers again, there was lust and something else she couldn’t quite place. Something that made her want to stroke his long, black hair and sigh loving nothings into his ear until the look disappeared.

“Hi Lance,” she said. Awkward silence surrounded them for a moment then Elizabeth bumped her from behind. “This is Elizabeth and Marty. They’re staying with me.”

Lance shook hands with them but didn’t sit. Lisa’s feet seemed to move without any direction from her mind. Next thing she knew, she had walked around the table to sit in the booth next to him—right next to him—when he sat down with her. Garth Brooks blared from the tired jukebox, replacing Hank Williams. The clink of pool balls, the clanking of glasses, the low hum of conversation; it all seemed to mute as his hand pushed a stray hair away from her face.

“What can I get you?” he asked her.

“Pepsi.” Dear God, did she have to be acting like a freaking groupie? “I haven’t seen you around the Wahpawhat pack before. I gather you’re a Lupin...or were? But then why do you
feel
familiar? As if I should know how you take your coffee, or what your favorite color is?” Or where he’d like her to touch him.

Lance enfolded her hands in his, and tingles of awareness sparked from there straight to her nipples. Part of her calmed as if she’d found her eye of the storm and could stay there, peaceful and safe no matter what happened. Another part of her went into overdrive and wanted to run away as fast as she could.
He’s a stranger. How can I trust him?

“I’ve seen you before. In wolf form.” The hand that still held hers tensed then trembled.

“But you’re Lupin.”
No way.
She’d only changed with the Elite Guard and Nolan. Except that first night...

“Yes,” he replied quietly. His eyes looked on her as if searching for answers. Answers to questions she’d ignored for years.

“But—” She cut herself off. A flood of memories and emotions swept through her. The first change when she’d been on her own. The betrayal, the loneliness. The pain of the trap. The vague recall of someone else before she’d blacked out.

“I found you in a hunter’s trap. I brought you to the Wahpawhat ulfric because my lupa would have had you killed, or worse and then killed.”

She believed it. With what she’d learned since her turning, she’d been lucky on many levels. Not the least of which it hadn’t been Roxy or Boris that had found her that first night. Then a thought struck her. “I remember being afraid of more than the hunter. I saw a shadow before I lost consciousness. One that frightened me.”

Lance’s lip formed a thin line before he answered her. “Boris.”

Belated fear filled her.
Boris?
“He was there?” Her suddenly dry mouth caused her voice to crack on the last word. “How did you? I mean I’ve seen you fight now, but back then...”
Well, so much for a college education and coherency.

But Lance seemed to understand. “Back then, I tricked Boris into leaving and led him to believe I’d kill you and dispose of the trap.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “He was half right.”

As she processed the information with her new knowledge of the Lupin pack, and Roxy and Boris in particular, her heart swelled with appreciation and a spark of something more. “You risked her anger for me? Why would you do that?” It seemed incredulous to her that all this time she lived without knowing the truth. If not for Lance, she would have died a cruel death. While she’d felt sorry for herself and distrusted any man who wanted sex from her, there’d been another. One who gave of himself without care for the consequences. “One day,” she began quietly. “You’ll tell me the whole story. I know where I was and where I ended up. That was very foolish—and brave—of you.”

“I had no other choice. You are my mate.”

The word hung in the air between them. Lisa felt sucker punched and delighted all at once. The contradicting emotions blew through her like a hurricane through a trailer court, crumbling her defenses. “But I’m human?” Her body screamed at her mind to
shut up.
From the moment she’d laid eyes on him, there’d been something tangible between them. Now that she’d seen him protect her honor—for that was what he’d been doing she realized now—and heard what he’d risked, his appeal had shot through the roof.

“You don’t sound very sure of that.” His smile lit up his face again, and humor laced his tone.

“I wasn’t born a were. How can I be your mate?” As much as her mind rejected the idea, her body’s response to his nearness told her she wouldn’t mind playing yin to his yang.

“I don’t know.”

“Well—”

“Hello, Lance.”

Lisa looked at the stranger whose hello sounded menacing. Two other men stood next to the newcomer, one on each side. Weres by her estimation.

“Ryan,” Lance said, leaning back against the high-back booth and stretching his legs out. His hands went behind his head. If her body wasn’t touching his, she’d have thought him to be completely relaxed.

***

Lance struggled for self-control. All he wanted to do was shove his fist up Ryan’s nose.

The darkness permeated into the deep shadows, but the full moon lit the rest of the night. Ryan and three other men were standing nude over a man, their bodies covered in blood that looked like dark streaks tattooed into the men’s skins.

Their raucous laughter filled the cold, night air. On the horizon, a lone wolf howled, calling for reinforcements. The men’s laughter stopped in mid-cackle, and fear poured out of their pores, tangible and glowing like silver in the moonlight, ethereal.

A red mist began to form, mingling with the silver and following it back to the men. It absorbed into them like butter into hot bread, leaving a slight red-hued aura around their skin. The red mist had left tracks which could be traced back to the woodlands, but once there, the trail dissipated into nothing within the deep blackness of the forest, its origins hidden.

The four men with the red auras began to kick the body on the ground then turned on each other. Soon they were all in werewolf forms. Growls encompassed the night sounds, silencing some, overpowering others. Barks mingled with the growls.

Suddenly, the scene changed pictures the same way a kaleidoscope changes colors. A wolf lay next to the human form, licking the face and whining. The moonlight softly caressed both woman and beast. Then the woman rose up, floating off the ground, still unconscious, and her head dropped back. Her hair floated in the breeze and hung almost weightlessly.

Her body was dark, yet the lunar rays reflected white. The wolf howled, its nose pointing to the sky, almost as if he were defying the moon to take the woman from him. Gently, the woman’s nude body drifted to the earth, and the wolf quit howling and simply lay by the woman, dropped his head into his front paws, and became still.

“Shit, Lance. I don’t remember you being this out of it when Roxy had your leash. What’s the matter? Your dog keeping you up nights? Or maybe you’re ashamed because you’re hanging out with filthy
aswans
.”

Lance growled deep in his throat at the insult aimed at Lisa. Calling a female werewolf a dog was like calling her a whore. The
“aswan”
was thrown out to cause more trouble, he knew. What had he missed while in a trance, and what did the vision mean? Was it literal or figurative? His long-held frustration at the sometimes ambiguous nature of his gift combined with his anger at the insults. He stood up.

“Feel free to treat your friends anyway you want, but
I
am not your friend. Neither is the midwife.” Deliberately, he kept his voice low. Ryan stepped back, and the wolf inside pounced at the show of fright. His other being screamed to be released, to defend his mate. Lance calmed it, laughing aloud as fear crossed their faces in waves, from the weakest of them until even Ryan’s eyes had rounded, and he worked his mouth as if trying to swallow.

“You’re not worth it, dog,” Ryan said belligerently. “Come on,” he told the ones with him. “I came here to relax, not look at scum.”

Lance laughed again which put a scowl on Ryan’s face. “Good choice, Ryan.”

Lisa’s hand gentled him as she touched his arm. When the men left, he turned and looked down at her, trying to ascertain if she’d been hurt by their bullying words. But it wasn’t fear or hurt he saw. It was acceptance, trust, and maybe—just maybe—a little bit of love?

He lifted both his hands to her shoulders. “I’m sorry for them and the way they acted,” he said.

“They’re actions are not your fault. I suspect, from what they said, you never revealed that you are actually an alpha. A true alpha.”

He hung his head, ashamed. “I let Roxy treat me...badly. I never stood up for myself in front of the pack. The few private rebellions...” He swallowed as the words stuck in his throat.

His body rushed with heat when she put her finger on his lips and said, “Shhhh. You have no reason to be ashamed, and you don’t have to explain. When you’re ready, I’ll listen. You are a brave man. You stood up to three werewolves bigger than you just now.”

Her words pierced his heart, giving him more hope than he’d felt in his life. He opened his mouth and gently nipped the finger she still held against his mouth. Her eyes lit up, stoking his already hot libido where she was concerned. He had no idea how long he stood there, completely unaware of his surroundings, when a loud cry broke through the cocoon.

Lisa broke away with an unhappy gasp. “Marty!” she said, even as the woman with the man she called Marty screamed out, “No!”

Lisa turned to him and said, “Please call Kamiakin. Ask him to meet me at the were hospital. Do you know how to get to Waverly Mansion?”

Her words came out rapidly, sharp, and clear. He sensed her urgency, yet all her movements were precise. “Waverly Mansion?” he asked as he dialed the number he’d been forced to memorize in case of were emergency.

“I’ll take that as a no. Carry him, and follow me.”

Shifting the phone so it was held by his ear pushing into his shoulder, Lance bent down and lifted Marty in his arms. “Kamiakin? The healer has asked me to have you meet us at the Waverly Mansion. Marty looks as if he’s been poisoned.” Unable to reach his phone while holding Marty, he let the phone drop to Marty, and he stretched his fingers to snag it off the man’s chest, then held on tight to both phone and man. Lisa continued to call out directions.

“Elizabeth,” she snapped again. “Collect the cups. Do not dump it or let anyone take it from you. Stand by me as we walk out. You may save your husband’s life, so
pay attention.”

Elizabeth’s face had rivulets of tears streaking her makeup, but she nodded at Lisa. Lance followed Lisa outside to a SUV in the dark parking lot. He lay the man in the seat, and Lisa took over ministrations.