To Crave a Blood Moon (22 page)

“No wonder your kin washed their hands of you and wouldn't take you in after your momma died.” Rosemary flounced out the door, quivering with a hatred for Ruby that felt like noxious gas on the air.

Slapping his hat back on his head, the deputy departed with a tight, apologetic smile. She listened to their steps on the porch for some moments before flicking an embarrassed glance to Sebastian. She didn't want him to know that she had been rejected by her family, dumped into foster care because they couldn't cope with her. That no one wanted her. Not her father. Not her grandmother. Not her two aunts or the myriad of cousins enough to populate various parishes of Louisiana. None would claim her. Her mother's oddball daughter. An anomaly. Something to be reviled. Abandoned to the care of the state.

All she had ever had was this house, waiting for her when she turned eighteen. And she wasn't leaving it. No way in hell was she headed back to Turkey. No matter what he said.

Rubbing her arms, she headed past Sebastian for the kitchen, forcing her mind to other matters. Like making a living. Lord knew no one else was going to take care of her. “I have cinnamon rolls to bake.”

This morning, she had notified the Morning Star Café that she was taking orders again. They had put in their usual request for fresh bread. And Ernie's diner wanted their pies and cakes, too.

“Ruby—”

“I have to get back to making a living,” she said, stopping him before he offered up any kind words. Sympathy from him would only make her feel worse—a freak in need of pity. She couldn't bear that. Not from him.

He grasped her by both arms and forced her around to face him. “Stop pretending you're so tough.”

“What do you want?” She lifted her chin. “Tears? I'm okay. I've dealt with a lot of shit in my life. What she said doesn't even register on my Richter scale.”

With a small shake of his head, he dropped his hands. “Okay. I guess you're not pretending, then.”

“I'm not. Now unless you want to roll dough for me, step aside. I have a lot to do.” Turning, she stepped inside the familiar kitchen where she had baked countless pies and bread. King cakes for Mardi Gras. Hundreds of casseroles for the area nursing home and rotary club. The familiarity warmed the chilled corner of her heart. If she closed her eyes, she could still smell her mother's spaghetti sauce simmering on
the stove, hear her humming as she crushed garlic and fresh basil together in her pestle.

“So where's this dough?” he asked, close behind her.

Ruby jumped a little and whipped around. Sebastian stood so close her breasts brushed his chest. With an indrawn breath, she took a quick step back. “W-what?”

He shrugged. “We've got a week to kill before moonrise. Gotta do something while I'm here.”

Nodding, Ruby headed toward her old yellow refrigerator. “Wash your hands,” she murmured, trying not to let his being here, so near her, in her kitchen, helping her, thaw her resolve in any way. She had nothing left with him. He would soon learn that she could cope with this lycan thing as she did with everything else in her life. She would cope. Without him. He'd see that. See she didn't need him and then he'd be gone.

As she scooped flour into a large glass bowl, letting her fingers trail through the cool white powder, she wondered why the usual calm and comfort did not wash over her in the act.

Instead, her nerves stretched uncomfortably tight. She felt him watching her, just behind her—waiting for instructions, she supposed. His warm breath fanned her neck, and her breath caught in her constricting throat. Her nipples grew taut and aching,
straining against her blouse, craving him… his touch, his mouth. She palmed a breast, hoping to assuage the hard tip, make it go away. The act only made her burn hotter, the ache intensify. The core of her clenched. Moisture dampened her panties.

He brushed against her. A hard bulge nudged at her ass. She bit her lip to stop a moan from escaping.

“Will you get the eggs from the fridge?” she asked in a strangled voice, grateful when he moved away.

She swallowed a ragged breath, focusing on stamping her desire, on blocking him. She concentrated, fighting the heat behind his gaze. The hot steady flow of desire he emitted that licked fire at her will told her exactly how he would like to spend the remainder of his time with her. And it wasn't in the kitchen.

A whimper tugged at the back of her throat. She felt his dark arousal. It only increased her craving for him.
Damn. Damn. Damn
. How could she fight this? Him?

Her belly tightened and her breath came a little faster. Turning from her bowl, she found him directly behind her again, a carton of eggs in his hand.

His eyes drilled into her, dark relentless chips of obsidian, that strange white light dancing in the centers. A single step was all it took. She flattened herself
against the hard wall of his chest, pressing her aching breasts into him.

He dropped the carton of eggs, his arms going around her, clutching her in a savage hold. She slid one hand through his short-cropped hair, yanking his head down with a growl.

Hard fingers dug into her hips as their mouths met, open and eager, tongues thrusting, licking, tasting one another. Voracious beasts coming together in desperate hunger.

They had this. For now, it was enough. She wouldn't think about tomorrow.

Ruby led Sebastian from the swinging doors of Ernie's back kitchen, after having dropped off the pies and cakes she'd made that afternoon—with Sebastian's help, of course.

The last few days she had spent cooking and baking, catching up on her orders for the local eateries. Oh, and having sex. Lots of sex. Sweaty, panting sex.

She had discovered multiple orgasms could be achieved in the time it took to bake a pecan pie. She didn't know who was more driven, more insatiable—her or Sebastian. Their lust for each other showed no signs of abating. They no longer discussed the future. And yet it was there just the same. A thick mist from which they could not escape, surrounding them in a tangible
fog neither dared acknowledge. They knew it approached. Why discuss it?

Eight o'clock, and Ernie's dinner crowd packed the old diner. Sebastian held her hand as they moved between tables, his strong fingers locked with hers. A sweet sensation. She couldn't remember holding another man's hand. Never remembered wanting to. The contact would have frightened her. Who knew what she might feel? With Sebastian she felt only desire, a steady pouring of warmth from his hand through her. Into her. The same thing she had felt all week.

“Smells good,” Sebastian commented.

“That would be the chicken-fried steak. Everyone comes here for it. It's Ernie's specialty.” She winked. “Nothing says home cooking like buttermilk, flour and a deep fryer.” She motioned to a table. “Want to eat—”

The words died in her throat when she spotted the family sitting in a nearby booth. The perfect family of four. Father, mother, two sons. “Let's go.”

“What?”

Dropping his hand, she moved to the front door. Practically ran.

Sebastian clamped a hand on her arm, that hunter look about him again. He looked at her, then swept the room as if looking for a threat he had missed. “What? What is it?”

“Nothing.” Her breath tightened in her chest as, one by one, the family stood to leave. They hadn't noticed her yet. But they would.
He
would. She'd seen him over the years. In a town the size of Beau Rivage, how could she not? But she had always pretended not to see him… and allowed him to do the same. Even when their eyes locked. Even when aversion washed over him, swiping its claw at her, she pretended not to feel. Not to know.

Sebastian followed her gaze to the gray-haired man with the same brown eyes she had once possessed. Sebastian tensed, and she picked up on his awareness. Understanding passed through him the moment he focused on her father's face.

“That's your father?”

She nodded.

“He lives here, too?”

“Never left,” she murmured.

“Christ.” Sebastian dragged a hand through his hair.

“Let's go,” she repeated, ready to run through that door. From the brothers she had never met. From the father who wouldn't have her because she was a freak.
She's weird, Diane. She's a weird kid. And I can't stand to be around her. My own goddamned daughter.

It wasn't right.
Wasn't fair
. That sole mantra burned
like a locomotive through her head as her sandals slapped across the linoleum.

She was almost to the door when she stopped. Turning, she faced Sebastian. He cocked one dark brow.

“Excuse me,” she said, in a voice that held an edge of surprise even to her own ears.

With sure strides, she crossed Ernie's diner and stopped at her father's table.

He looked up from dropping a few dollar bills on the table. Astonishment crossed the lines of his face. Then something else. Emotion emanated from him in a slow trickle.
Fear
.
Bilious and suffocating
. The same fear she had evoked in him when she was just a child. Some things never change.

“Hi.” Her voice rang a bit too loud. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she looked from her father's bloodless face to his wife—a small woman with frosted blond hair and pale blue eyes. The complete opposite of her mother. Ruby had seen her around town before. She knew that she was a dental hygienist. Her gaze drifted to the boys. Both in high school. The elder was featured in the local paper a lot for football or baseball. The younger one she knew was big into Eagle Scouts.

Ruby held out her hand to her father. He stared at it as if it were a serpent. She moved her hand to his
wife. Nothing. Keeping tight control of her smile, she turned to the boys. Troy, the older, accepted it. The grip warm, firm. His hair was a dark brown. Like hers.

“Hi. I'm Ruby.” She took a small sip of air. “Your sister.” The words felt good, better than anything she had said before.

Her father sputtered.
Outrage. Horror. Helplessness
. His emotions rushed her in a flashing burn. His wife pressed close to his side. “Richard,” she hissed. “Do something.”

“I know,” Troy said. “I've always wanted to meet you.”

His mother whipped her head to stare at her son. “You
know
?”

“Uh, yeah. Beau Rivage is a small town, Mom.”

Smiling suddenly became easier.

Her younger brother shook her hand now. “Hi, David,” she murmured. Remembering Sebastian's presence at her side, she stepped to the side and included him. “This is my friend. Sebastian.”

Sebastian shook hands with the boys. Her father and his wife stood several steps behind their sons, not coming forward to greet him either.

“What are you doing?” her father bit out, glaring at her.

“Saying hello.” She released a deep breath. “Something
I should have done a long time ago.” She shrugged. “Why not? We're family, whether you like it or not. Whether
I
like it. I'm done pretending we don't know each other. You
are
my father.” She looked at her brothers again. “I'm glad we finally met. Maybe we can sit down for a meal and get to know each other sometime.”

Her brothers nodded, murmuring agreement over the appalled sputters of their parents.

Sebastian's hand slid into hers again. For a moment their gazes connected, clung. The emotion she felt from him was different—sweet, tender.

Pride,
she realized with a start. A totally new emotion for her. At least when directed at her.

She led him from the restaurant without giving her father a chance to say anything more.

A lightness brimmed inside her. “There's a place out on the highway. Fewer locals. Lots of truckers, but they make a helluva burger.”

Behind the wheel of her car, Sebastian smiled. “Let's go. The last thing I want on my hands is a hungry lycan.” His smile slipped. And just like that, tension returned, attention called to the very thing they had become so adept at ignoring in the past. “That was stupid,” he muttered.

She sighed, turning her attention outside the window, studying the flashing blur of trees.

For a moment, it had been all about her triumph. She had forgotten about that other part of herself. The part she would rather forget.

Ruby's stomach growled the moment they stepped from the car into the cool dusk, the aroma of a charcoal grill and searing meat from the truck stop slamming into her. She could smell it all. The sizzling, succulent beef, the pungent richness of boiling crawfish and andouille sausage.

Her stomach grumbled. “It smells like heaven. I don't think food ever smelled so good.”

“You'll get accustomed to it.”

She slid him a glance. “Why is that?”

“Your heightened senses.”

Again, hating the reminder of what she was, she fell silent as he held open the glass door. They took a booth near a window facing the highway. Cars and trucks rolled past, a steady roar in the distance.

They ordered cheeseburgers with a large side of onion rings. The waitress didn't spare Ruby a glance, her gaze glued on Sebastian and with his gorgeous David Beckham looks. Even walking away, she nearly ran into a bus boy, too busy staring at Sebastian.

“Guess you're used to that.”

“What?” He glanced up from rotating a ketchup bottle between his thumbs.

“Women falling over themselves for you.”

He snorted. “And you're not used to men fawning over you?”

She angled her head. “You're kidding, right?” She took a sip of iced tea. “I don't exactly have an active social life.”

“Well, that's not because you're not attractive.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, looking away from his burning gaze, uncomfortable with the subject. She knew she wasn't an easy person to be with… everyone who ever entered her life made that clear to her.