Beneath a Blood Moon (30 page)

Desmond’s eyebrows rose. “Could you cheat on him?”

A shudder ran through me, and I shook my head so hard my hair whipped against my face. “Why would I want to?”

“Mary’s side of the bond with Sanders was weak compared to his bond with her,” Desmond informed me in a cold tone. “It is not something I enjoy discussing.”

“It’s okay,” my mate said, flopping onto the couch beside his sister. “Marcy here is so influenced by Rob she’s almost more Fenerec than she is witch. She can’t comprehend the thought of wanting any male other than Rob. Don’t be mistaken, though. Mary liked me well enough. She wasn’t faithful, but we partnered well in all other things.”

“If she liked you, she wouldn’t have done that to you. I can’t believe you put up with that.” I growled, shocked and dismayed at the casual way he discussed his deceased mate—and how resigned he was to what she had done to him.

“I didn’t exactly have much of a choice,” my mate replied, and when he smiled, I could tell it was a forced, fake thing.

The amber in his eyes was as cold as stone and equally lifeless.

“Only death breaks a mating bond—or a determined sorcerer,” Desmond acknowledged. “But even a sorcerer can’t come between a true pairing, now can he?”

“Absolutely not. Their bond reforged the instant they touched each other—and a good thing, too,” Wendy muttered. “I am—”

“He did not break our bond,” I snarled, fury at the thought giving my words a sharper edge than I intended. “He tried. He failed. Sanders is
mine.
”

“No one is questioning your bond with him,” Desmond soothed. “If that sorcerer didn’t break it, he smothered it enough Sanders believed you were dead.”

“Okay, enough,” Rob growled, slapping his open hand onto the coffee table. I jumped at the sound. “Let’s not end the day with a brawl. It’s over and done with, and I see no need to smear Mary’s name in the mud more than necessary. What we need to do now is figure out how to put an end to this bullshit and catch the water witch who was partnered with the sorcerer.”

“And find out who is after Sara,” my mate added, crossing his arms over his chest.

Rob nodded. “That will be easier than locating the witch. We find out where and when they wanted her delivered, we show up with her, and we lure them out. It’s a common enough Inquisition operation. Go with the standard protocol; send Sara on her own to the airport near the meeting point and see if anyone shows up. Tag them, bag them, and done. If no one shows up at the airport, show up where they wanted her delivered and see who comes to claim her. Tag and bag. Once that’s cleaned up, we can focus on the water witch. We have the woman’s description, although it’ll likely do us little good if she decides to use a glamor. She will, if she’s smart.”

“I’m not sending Sara alone anywhere,” Sanders snarled.

“You’ll have to, Sanders. It’s one direct flight. Short of a plane crash, there’ll be no danger. Security at the airport here is tight to begin with, and there will be enough Inquisitors in New York to guarantee she’s safer than the President of the United States when he’s traveling. If you’re with her, you may drive off our target. If we put an obvious guard on her, we may drive off our target. Let us do our job, Sanders.”

I sighed at the anger in my mate’s eyes. “I’ll do it. If it means we can put an end to this mess, I’ll do it.”

Rob chuckled. “Good. I’ll take care of the details, then. Sanders, why don’t you take your lady to bed so she can get some rest. I’ll inform His Eminence you’re busy taking care of your mate to spare you the conversation.”

For a long moment, I thought Sanders was going to argue. He sighed, rose, and came to my chair. “I do not like this,” he stated, glaring at me.

I held up my arms, widened my eyes, and pouted.

He sighed again. “Okay. Rob, Marcy, I’m trusting you both with my mate. Don’t fuck this. Please don’t fuck this up.”

“We’ll make her as safe as we can,” my mate’s sister promised.

Chapter Fifteen

In order for Rob’s plan to work, I had to fly solo to New York as the bait. Everyone else caught an earlier flight, a charter hired by the Inquisition, to make sure they beat me to Newark International Airport.

It turned out they could have driven to New York from Vegas and arrived first. Not long after my mate’s flight had taken off, mine was delayed and ultimately cancelled, leaving me stranded until the next morning. Instead of a non-stop to Newark as originally planned, I ended up with a flight to Chicago and a five hour layover.

Even nature hated me. Storms in Chicago grounded all flights, stranding me along with hundreds of others waiting for a rebooking. At the rate I was going, I wouldn’t end up in New York until next week.

To make matters worse, the charger for my cell phone was with my mate, along with the rest of my luggage, leaving me with only my purse for company. With all of the important numbers stored in my phone, I hadn’t bothered to memorize any of them, including my mate’s.

The only phone number I had was for the Inquisition’s operator, who could connect me to the Shadow Pope. I sighed, and in a fit of depression, ate my way across the airport before working up the nerve to call from a payphone.

I considered it a miracle the airport had any of the obsoleted devices left.

On the third ring, the operator answered, “How may I connect your call?”

At least what I had to say was written on the card with the number, so I dutifully replied, “Topside. I’m Sara Madison, Seattle’s Alpha female.”

I doubted I’d ever get used to referring to myself as an Alpha anything. I would have rather called myself Sanders’s mate. Titles, apparently, were important to the Inquisition.

“Connecting.”

“Good evening, Miss Madison,” the Shadow Pope answered. “What do you need?”

“This is ridiculous, but Sanders has my phone’s charger. It’s dead, I’m stuck in Chicago, and probably will be for the next two bleeping days, and I don’t know his number.” I swallowed, wincing at the whining tone of my voice.

The Shadow Pope laughed. “I will give you his number and see about making arrangements for you to get to New York without having to wait two bleeping days. Do you have something to write with?”

“I stole some pens and paper in Vegas,” I confessed, digging my purloined goods out of my purse.

He told my mate’s number, followed by Desmond’s number. “I was already aware of your flight woes and have been tracking your progress. Your mate is also aware of your situation, although I’m afraid his vocabulary currently consists of monosyllabic words, growls, and curses. You can buy a charger for your cell phone at Gates B and H within the airport. Find a charging station and give him a call. I will text your phone with your new booking information and other instructions. While you may be bored, do not leave the airport and remain within after-security locations. No wandering. Depending on how long it takes to get you booked into a new flight, I may assign a guard to you.”

I sighed. “Understood, sir. Thank you.”

“A pleasure, Sara. Do reassure Matthew that a delay at the airport is not actually the end of the world.”

The Shadow Pope hung up, and I returned the phone to its hook, sighed, and went off in search of a store selling chargers for my cell phones. I found one halfway across the airport. Muttering curses at the cost, I bought it, stomped my way to a charging station, sat down, and plugged my cell in.

It took less than a minute for my phone to ring, and the display informed me the caller was Desmond. I swiped my finger across the screen as I’d been shown, and careful of the cord, I answered, “Hello?”

“Ah, there you are. Finally figured out where to get a charger for your phone?” Desmond asked.

I flushed. “I had to call Topside,” I mumbled.

He laughed. “Inevitable, I’m certain. You’re all right?”

“I’m fine. Stuck in Chicago.”

“So we’ve heard. No problems? No weirdos following you around? Anyone hitting on you?”

In the background, I heard my mate growl. My wolf, pleased by his jealousy, urged me to tease him. “Oh, yes. Every other minute, there’s some handsome man who comes by. So many men, so little time,” I taunted.

“I’m going to assume that is payback for putting you on a commercial flight,” Desmond replied.

“Did he hear me?” I demanded.

“He’s whining, so I assume the answer is yes. We dosed him with a small amount of your favorite cocktail. I’m going to put you on the phone with Joe so I can keep an eye on your mate.”

I tensed, and my wolf struggled against my hold on her. While I also wanted to growl, an airport wasn’t an appropriate place. “Okay,” I grumbled.

Why Joseph disliked me so much was a mystery, but the feeling was mutual. My wolf wanted to be a part of our mate’s pack, but the instant we had joined it—both times—I was aware of their distrust and dislike of me as a cold, creeping sensation down my spine.

“Hello, Sara,” Joe said, his tone emotionless.

The sense of being loathed intensified. Determined to be polite to my mate’s Second, I replied, “Hello, Mr. Simons. Is Sanders okay?”

Joseph growled. “He would be, if it weren’t for you.”

In the background, Desmond cleared his throat.

There were so many things I wanted to say, ranging from snarling curses at him to begging for a reason he hated me so much. Instead of speaking a word, I hung up. My hands shook from my fury and dismay. It took me two tries to press the power button and turn off the wretched device.

I gripped it so hard the screen cracked and broke into countless pieces, its metal case warped. I wanted to hurl it across the terminal, but instead, I found a trash can and dumped the damned thing in it.

New York represented everything I hated in my life, but if I wanted to be with my mate, I had to go there. Before Sanders had stormed into my life, I had made my choices, and I had suffered through the consequences. Then he had showed up, watching me dance and making me want him. When my wolf had come along, she had wanted him, too.

He was everything I thought I wanted in a man. I could even live with his memory of Mary haunting me. We were two different people.

Both my wolf and I had believed pack meant friends and family. We were wrong. Our mate wanted us, but no one else in the pack did, and I didn’t know how to break free of the chains binding me to them. Maybe my wolf desired a pack, but I didn’t, not if it meant living with their dislike of me all the time.

Could I still be Sanders’s mate without having to be in his pack?

When I got to New York, I’d find out. If Seattle’s pack didn’t want me, maybe I could find one who did, for the sake of my lonely wolf.

With my phone broken, it was up to me to make my way to New York. Armed with the cash I had earned from my tips and from my first night with my mate, I headed to the ticketing counters.

If I wanted to reach New York without waiting for two or three days, I needed to go to Fort Wayne. Buying a bus ticket, I ignored the Shadow Pope’s decree to remain within the security-cleared areas of the airport, went to the nearest cab station, and got a lift to the bus terminal.

Five hours after leaving Chicago, I arrived in Fort Wayne and caught another cab to the airport, hitting the ticket counter to purchase my fare before breezing through security to catch my flight to Charlotte, which would then route me to LaGuardia in New York.

I made it with five minutes to spare, and with a triumphant humph, I took my seat.

In five hours, I would be in New York. I would hunt down my mate’s hotel and demand to be released from the hell of being in his pack. My wolf despaired, but she didn’t fight me.

She could feel the chill of the pack’s regard, smothering what little I could sense from my mate. How long would we last until their hatred overwhelmed our bond and broke it? How long could I last without crumbling beneath the weight of their anger, frustration, and loathing?

If Seattle’s pack didn’t want me and my wolf, I’d find one that did.

I wondered if it would have been better for everyone if the boss had taken me to New York as he had planned and sold me off to the highest bidder. I clenched my hands into fists, staring out the window. Whoever had wanted me knew what I was. What I didn’t know was how he knew or why
I
mattered to him.