Beneath a Blood Moon (23 page)

I fought my wolf until I could breathe without growling. “Sanders,” I choked out.

The man’s eyes widened. “You’re his missing bitch? But she’s dead.”

Once again, my wolf despaired. The sorcerer had destroyed my bond with Sanders, leaving me craving him without being able to sense him at all. I needed him, but the warmth I associated with him was gone. Unable to stop myself, I whined.

“You need to work on your people skills, Dustin,” the woman growled. “Miss, is your name Sara?”

I nodded.

“Jesus Christ. Get her into some dry clothes. Do something about those burns, too, before he shows up and loses his shit on us. Why the fuck were we told she was dead?” Dustin reached into his pocket, pulled out a cell phone, and dialed a number. “Where’s Seattle’s Alpha?”

Spitting curses, he headed for the staircase.

“I don’t think he’s going to care if she’s in a wet dress, you idiot witch, and I’m not sure what the hell you expect
me
to do about silver burns,” Holly muttered. “Do you think you can walk, Miss?”

“Better not try it quite yet,” a man stated from somewhere behind me. “I’ll carry her.”

“Okay. Let’s get her upstairs and away from this mess.” Holly stepped into my field of vision. She was a cop. Crouching in front of me, she rested her hands on her knees. “First of all, don’t worry, Miss. We’re with the Inquisition, and we’ve been tasked with making sure you get back to where you belong, safe and sound. The last thing we want to do right now is knock Seattle’s Alpha even farther off his rocker.”

I growled, and to prove I could, I lurched to my feet, staggering before catching my balance. Moving helped, and shaking my head to clear my vision, I took a good look at the basement. The sorcerer’s body was with the dead Fenerec, who were still chained in place. I had been taken to the corner near the stairwell, far away from the silver and the corpses.

Holly kept still, watching me with a faint yellow gleam tinting her blue eyes. “I think she’d rather walk on her own, Barry.”

“So I see.”

I backed away until my back pressed to the wall, trembling from the effort of staying upright. At my wolf’s insistence, I took deep breaths so she could sift through the confusing blend of scents in the basement. While faint, she picked up the faint cinnamon traces of Fenerec. “You’re Fenerec.”

“Part of the Vegas pack, Miss Sara,” Holly replied, smiling at me. “You have nothing to worry about. Dustin’s just cranky we weren’t invited to hunt the witch. We needed him to get the water out of here. Fortunately for you, he’s well worth his pay. He just doesn’t like surprises.”

“Brandy. Her name is Brandy.” I pointed at Kent’s body. “He’s a sorcerer.”

Holly whirled. “You’re certain?”

While I wanted to growl at the doubt in her voice, I resisted the urge. “I killed him.”

“Good for you, Miss. Good for you. If that’s really him, we’ve been after his ass for months.” Holly shook her head, lifted her radio to her mouth, and said, “I’ve been told one of the bodies down here is our sorcerer.”

Satisfied the pair of cops didn’t mean any harm, my wolf fed me her courage. I said, “When I killed him, the witch flooded the basement. She kept me alive.”

“And that would explain how she got so much power so quickly. She got it from the sorcerer. Let’s get upstairs. There’s no need for us to stand around in this hellhole.”

When I didn’t move, Barry approached me, and without waiting for my permission, he scooped me up as though I weighed nothing. His nostrils flared. “You smell like Seattle’s Alpha.”

Holly froze, her eyes widening. “You’re sure, Barry?”

Barry’s scent soured with his annoyance. “And you told Dustin you could use your nose. Use it, Holly. You know what he smells like. Of course I’m sure. Puts a whole new meaning to
his
missing bitch, doesn’t it?”

“That fucking sorcerer really had it out for him, didn’t he? I’ll let Dustin know.” Growling something under her breath, Holly headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Shifting me in his arms, Barry followed at a more sedate pace. Too tired to fight him, let alone climb the steps on my own, I submitted to the indignity of being carried. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

Barry halted at the top of the stairs. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Ma’am.”

Water stained the walls up to the windows, which were all broken. More cops lingered near the front door, where Holly was talking to Dustin in a voice too soft for me to hear. 

“He’s not far from here. Should arrive any minute,” Holly reported.

“Good. Let’s just hope he doesn’t flatten me getting to her.” Barry carried me outside.

The heat of the desert sun baked me, and I closed my eyes to bask in the warmth. I had no idea how long I had hung from the ceiling as a toy for the sorcerer and a source of torture and torment for the unmated Fenerec.

The squeal of burning rubber accompanied the slam of a car’s door. Barry tensed, tightening his grip on me. “Careful, sir,” he said. “She’s been fading in and out since we found her, though she was reasonably coherent a few minutes ago.”

Gentle hands cupped my face, hot against my chilled skin. “She’s so cold,” Sanders whispered.

“Long-term exposure to the water, sir,” Barry replied. “Hey, Dustin. What should they do with her?”

“Warm bath, but start it cold and gradually heat it, dry clothes, soup,” the witch called back. “Feed her; I don’t think the poor bitch has had anything in days. Lots of water; she’s dehydrated. Let her sleep as much as she needs, and mind the silver burns. Seeing as she hasn’t lost control yet, she probably won’t, so long as Stud Muffin over there keeps a handle on his shit.”

“Take her,” Barry said, easing me into Sanders’s arms. The movement drew a groan out of me as my shoulders and arms protested the abuse. “Dustin, I don’t think calling Seattle’s Alpha ‘Stud Muffin’ is very wise. Sir, I apologize for him. You’ll need to be careful of her arms and shoulders. I don’t know how long they had her hanging tied up, but it took some work to relax her muscles and joints enough we could move her.”

“He’s fine,” my mate replied, his tone so neutral I knew it was an act. “Thank you, Dustin.”

“We’ll take care of her,” Desmond growled. “Sanders, get her in the back of the car. Wendy, get the blanket out of the trunk, please.”

“Sanders,” I mumbled.

“Shh, Sara. I’ve got you.” My mate nuzzled my neck with his nose. His breath warmed my skin, and I made a contented noise.

Maybe I couldn’t feel his presence in my head, but him being close to me was enough. I closed my eyes and filled my lungs with his scent.

“We’ll need to ask her some questions, but they can wait a while,” Barry said.

“Good, because if you start in now, I don’t know how long I could keep him contained. You can check her over in the car, Sanders,” Desmond said. “Your name?”

“I’m Barry, Mr. Desmond, sir.”

“Give me your details. I’ll work with you directly.”

“Yes, sir.”

While they exchanged information, my mate carried me a few steps and then lowered me into a car, which I recognized as Desmond’s Mercedes from its scent. He slid in beside me, cradling me with my head against his chest. The entire time, he murmured to me, but in my exhaustion, I didn’t understand what he was trying to tell me.

With my mate holding me, I didn’t care where we were or where we were going. Moving my arm hurt, but I shifted enough to grab a handful of his shirt while the rest of me relaxed against him. I breathed in his scent, which was marred by his worry. I meant to tell him I was fine, but my words emerged as an incoherent mumble even I couldn’t understand.

I gave up trying and surrendered to sleep.

Sanders’s scent filled my nose. Breathing in deep, I reached out for him with a hand, my fingers finding cool sheets and the hotel’s duvet, which was the source of the sweet cinnamon smell. Mumbling complaints, I cracked open an eye. The bedroom light was off, but light streamed in through gaps in the curtained window. The door leading to the rest of the suite was open.

I heard my mate in the other room. To my relief, the dress was gone, exchanged for a set of thick, warm pajamas. After making sure I could stand without falling on my face, I staggered out of the bedroom in search of Sanders. I stifled a yawn.

The faint murmur of conversation in the other room guided me down the hall. My mate leaned over the couch, peeking in my direction. I stared at him for a long moment, wondering if I had hallucinated killing Kent. Was my mate a figment of my imagination? I shivered at the thought.

Sanders hopped over the edge of the couch and closed the distance between us. If he wasn’t real, I’d cling to him until the torture resumed. I slumped against him, burying my nose in his shirt to breathe in his scent and commit it to memory.

He wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on top of my head. “What are you doing up? I told you to stay in bed where it’s warm.”

His arms trembled as he held me. My wolf’s distress matched my own, and I snuggled against him, reassuring myself he was there and not about to disappear. I grabbed hold of the back of his shirt with both hands. My stomach chose that moment to voice its complaints at being empty. “Don’t remember you saying that,” I mumbled. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” my mate snarled. “Not a single thing.”

“Sanders, I will come over there and bite you again if you don’t settle,” Desmond warned. “No snarling at your pretty lady.”

Huffing, my mate flexed his hands against me, pulling me closer to him. “Are you okay?” Running his hands up my sides, he worked his way up to my neck, massaging my throat. A pleasant tingle worked its way through me.

If I were dreaming, I hoped I’d never wake up. Did pinching actually work to determine if one was conscious? I frowned, staring down at my arm. I released him long enough to dig my nails into my wrist. I hissed at the pain, and Sanders batted my hand away.

“Don’t do that,” he scolded, capturing my wrist and bringing it to his mouth. He kissed where I gouged myself in my determination to prove I was awake. Shivering, I leaned against him.

“Are you okay?”

“Am now.”

With a gentle touch, he lifted my chin. He pressed his lips to my brow, cupping my cheeks in his hands. “I thought you were gone.”

“I’m okay.”

Sanders growled, tilted my chin up, and kissed me. When he finished with me, I shook and panted to catch my breath. Prying my hands off his back, he tossed me over his shoulder. I giggled, and when my stomach voiced another complaint, I dissolved into a fit of helpless laughter.

“I’ll feed you, I’ll feed you,” my mate promised, turning to carry me into the main room.

“She’s not a toy, Sanders,” Desmond said, letting out a loud sigh. “Put her down.”

Sanders eased me onto the couch. “Mine.”

Smothering my mirth, I stared up at my mate, taking in his too pale skin and red eyes.

Desmond sighed again. “No one is disputing that fact.”

I caught hold of one of Sanders’s hands and tugged at him until he joined me on the couch. I crawled onto his lap, pressed my face to his shirt, and closed my eyes. With him near, my wolf relaxed, and the torturous ache for his touch eased. A hint of her lust remained, which I ignored.

“You can’t go back to sleep, Sara,” my mate said, stroking his hand over my hair. “You need to eat.”

“She can nap while waiting for the room service to arrive,” Desmond soothed.

“Not sleeping,” I grumbled. When I shifted to make myself more comfortable, my hair fell into my face. The bright red drew my attention, and I growled at it. “Shave my head,” I demanded.

“I’m not shaving your head,” my mate stammered. “Why do you want me to shave your head?”

Tears burned my eyes. “I don’t want red hair.”

I felt someone lean against the couch, and I recognized Wendy’s scent. She rubbed my back. “Sara, darling, we can strip the red out and dye it back to blonde and blue. You don’t have to keep it red. I’ll have Charles go find a pharmacy right now. You don’t have to cut your hair to get rid of the color, I promise.”

“Would you, Desmond?” my mate begged.

“Let me call in room service first, then I’ll head down. Is there anything else you want while I’m out?”

“Sara?” my mate asked.

I shook my head.

“I wouldn’t say no to some vodka,” Sanders admitted.

“I may consider something to let you take a bit of the edge off. Behave while I’m gone. No bringing her back into your pack until I return. Bite him if he tries, Wendy.”

“Charles, be nice. I’ll make sure he waits at least until she’s been fed, if she’s feeling up to it. If it calms him down…”

Desmond sighed. “Very well. Watch her carefully.”

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem, dear. I’ll watch them both.”

While Desmond ordered room service, Sanders stroked his hand over my hair, playing with it as he liked to do. I felt Wendy sit on the couch next to my mate, although she remained quiet until I heard the room’s door open and close.

“You’ll feel better after you have some food,” Wendy said, patting my shoulder. “Then we’ll make sure the red dye is gone.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.