Blood Moon (3 page)

“
An old flame.” The words
stung as she spoke them, and even though they were true, they
tasted like a lie.
Theo was so much more
than that
.

Logan pulled away from her, raking a hand
through his short hair as he cleared his throat. “How old,
Zee?”

Her throat tightened. “Two years ago.”

“
That’s an awfully long
time to be hung up on someone.” The thrill of the hunt seemed to
have escaped him for the time being.

“
I’m not hung up on him.
It was an honest mistake. I haven’t been with anyone since, and the
mood just threw me back in time.” Zelda hugged herself and blinked
stiffly, willing her eyes dry.

“
You’ve been alone for two
years? He must have been quite the fellow.”

She nodded. “He was.”

“
Then why did he leave
you?” Logan was slowly recovering and slipping back into his
flirtatious mood. He might have even had another shot, if he had
managed to steer the conversation away from Theo.

“
He didn’t leave me,” she
said softly.

“
So you left him?” he
asked.

Zelda turned and took a step away before he
caught her arm.

“
Zee?”

She bowed her head, refusing to look back.
“He died.”

Chapter Four

Logan’s beat up Dodge barreled down the mile
long gravel drive leading back to Chase Farms. A dust storm
followed him, lapping up the sides of the rusty truck and slowly
making its way inside the cab. He hardly noticed as he muttered to
himself.

He was a fool.
Of course
Zelda hadn’t
invited him over for a secret tryst, while the Raymore rejects were
off praying she’d sprout fur and let them call her mama.
Of course
she didn’t
need
his
help.
And now here he was, playing messenger boy—with a message that was
all too likely to get him shot. He almost hoped it would. Someone
needed to put him out of his misery.

The notion that Zelda was grieving over a
lost lover crawled under his skin. All this time, he’d thought she
was playing hard to get. The revelation had been a tough one to
swallow. He felt like a tool for how strong he had come on, and
then like an even bigger tool when he felt a spark of jealousy over
the dead man. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to look at Zelda
again without being reminded of his complete and utter failure to
read her.

He parked his blue beast in front of a barn,
next to a shiny, black Ford. The slam of his door evoked a chorus
of disgruntled moos, and somewhere from inside the barn, a very
unladylike voice echoed out to greet him.

“
Hey, asshole! I hope
you’re not wearing fancy shit-kickers today. I need a
hand.”

For Selena Chase, that was as close to
affection as it got.

Logan was, in fact, wearing fancy
shit-kickers. But luckily, he kept a pair of BFRBs tucked between
the cab and bed of his truck. Even though he’d been at the pub for
nearly a year now, Selena put him to work any time she could.

He didn’t mind. The farm was home. He had a
two-bedroom apartment in town, but he ate more meals with his
sister at the farmhouse than he did alone, and he still had a room
on the second floor. He stayed there during the full moon,
preferring to run in the woods behind the pasture than with Zelda’s
wolves in the rocky tangle of brush on the opposite side of
town.

Logan pulled on his rubber boots and found
Selena on the far end of the barn, hunched behind a bloated cow
standing in a calving pen. The cow bobbed its head over her
shoulder and mooed out a pitiful plea as he approached.

“
Should I go get the
calving jack?” he asked, taking in the thick set of hooves sticking
out from under the poor creature’s tail.

Selena grunted and tossed
back her mess of short, dark red curls. “
Pussy.
”

The sleeves of her flannel shirt were
bunched up to her elbows, and streaks of blood tinted the web of
tattoos crawling up her forearms and disappearing beneath the plaid
fabric.

Logan rolled his eyes and snorted as he
peeled off his jacket and tossed it over a stall. Then he ducked
down and easily slipped through the rails of the pen. His boots
crunched on the thick hay as he came to stand behind the cow next
to his sister.

Selena nodded her thanks, and they each
wrapped their hands around a hoof and pulled.

The calf was a fat little thing, slippery
with blood and mucus. It flopped on the hay and rolled against
Logan’s pant leg as he knelt down, smearing his jeans with fresh
gore.

Selena barked out a hearty laugh and rubbed
the calf’s belly with one hand while she cleared its nostrils of
mucus with the other. It wriggled around and pulled itself up on
shaky legs, wobbling as its mother licked its sticky face.

When it began nursing, Selena stood and
wiped her hands down the legs of her jeans. Logan stood too, and
together they left the pen and headed back down the length of the
barn.

“
So,” Selena shouted over
the mooing that echoed around them. “What brings you out this way?”
She paused to check a feeder.

Logan took too long to answer and was met
with a sour expression. He swallowed and tried once again to find
his voice.

Finally he managed. “Shit’s about to hit the
fan.”

Chapter Five

Zelda let Marla and the injured boy sleep
until almost eleven. Then she fried up two pounds of bacon and a
dozen eggs. Wolves required a lot of food, and healing wolves
required even more. She served them breakfast in bed, since the boy
was still on the mend, and also because she didn’t want her staff
to see Marla if they came in early.

Violet was right. They would smell her the
second they stepped foot in the pub, but Zelda was hoping Logan
would come through before the afternoon shift arrived.

She’d just brought the dirty dishes down to
the kitchen when someone pounded at the back door. Her pulse
quickened at the thought of Logan, and she rushed to set the greasy
plates in the sink, grabbing a hand towel before hurrying to the
window.

Instead of Logan, she found Selena Chase
stewing on the back patio, her mouth stretched into an unrestrained
scowl. If Zelda hadn’t been so sure that Selena noticed her through
the parted curtains, she would have considered not answering. The
woman was badly in need of some Zoloft.

Zelda took a deep breath and pasted on a
tight smile as she opened the door. “Good afternoon, Councilor
Chase.”

“
Where is she?” Selena
didn’t do pleasantries. She was abrasive and patronizing, but Zelda
did her best to remain diplomatic.

“
Upstairs, taking a
shower.” She opened the door further. “Would you like to come
in?”

Selena’s nose crinkled in disgust, tugging
one side of her mouth up to expose a sharp canine. “I’ll be in the
truck. Send her out when she’s ready.”

“
Are you hungry? I could
fix you a bite to eat,” Zelda tried again.

Selena ignored her and turned to head back
to her truck. How she had come to be one of Spero Heights’ esteemed
council members was beyond Zelda. Maybe the others were too afraid
to ask her to resign. Maybe they feared she would uproot her dairy
farm and move, leaving the cheese factory, Spero Heights’ primary
source of jobs and revenue, in a bind.

Zelda wanted to take her time out of spite,
but the sooner Selena Chase was off her property, the better. She
hurried upstairs and found Marla sitting on the edge of the guest
bed, drying her hair with a towel.

The sweatpants she’d loaned the girl
stretched under her swollen belly, and a thin line of skin peeked
out from under an oversized Janis Joplin tee shirt. The bruise on
her face had turned an ugly yellow-brown, but at least she could
open both eyes now.

Zelda went to the closet and rummaged around
the top shelf until she found a duffle bag. She stuffed a handful
of shirts and another pair of sweatpants in, along with the new set
of travel toiletries lined up along the sink in the bathroom.
Selena probably bathed in battery acid and testosterone—and she
didn’t seem like the sharing kind.

Marla watched with wide eyes. “Did I do
somethin’ wrong? Are you kickin’ me out?”

“
It’s not like that.”
Zelda zipped up the duffle bag and plopped down on the bed beside
her. “I have wolves in and out of here all the time. They’re gonna
sniff you out. You’ll be safer outside of town. Selena Chase has
agreed to take you in for now. She has a farm—”

“
I know who she is,” Marla
said flatly. “My cousin is one of her farmhands. That’s why I came
to you. They know about him.”

Zelda pressed her lips
together. “You’d still be safer there. The cattle will help mask
your scent, and Selena will be able to keep a better eye out, since
she gets far less traffic.”
Because she
hates everyone.

Marla took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.
You’re probably right. It’d been nice to see Cal, too.”

Zelda led her down to the kitchen and
unzipped the duffle bag again at the pantry, stuffing in a box of
granola bars and a bag of trail mix. “You give me a call if Selena
doesn’t feed you right. I’ll send Logan out with some goodies.”

Marla’s bottom lip trembled, but she nodded.
“Thank you, again.”

“
Don’t sweat it, sugar.
This is just what I do.” Zelda gave her the duffle bag and rubbed a
hand over her back, steering her toward the door just as Selena’s
truck roared to life, urging them to hurry along.

Marla hesitated when Zelda opened the door,
like she was leaving a mystic sanctuary to venture out into the
unknown. It was the way her wolves treated the place, with such awe
and familiarity. The girl squeezed the duffle bag to her chest and
swallowed.

“
When things settle
down—after I have the babies—would it be okay if I came back? For a
job maybe? I’d make a good waitress,” she said, lowering her eyes
in a show of submission.

Zelda flushed. The alpha treatment always
unnerved her. “We’ll see, honey. We’ll see.” She offered Marla a
smile and pointed her over to Selena’s truck, giving the councilor
a quick wave that the vile woman did not return.

Chapter Six

Zelda washed the bedding from Marla’s room
twice. She ran the vacuum over the rugs and scrubbed out the shower
before emptying the bathroom trash into the dumpster. Then she put
out fresh lavender candles in all the table centerpieces around the
pub.

It wasn’t enough.

The bell above the door jingled and laughter
spilled inside as Violet, Grant, and Kerri arrived for the Sunday
afternoon shift. Zelda tried not to look too suspicious as she
helped Violet set up the bar and fill the ice cooler.

Grant, a wolf who had truly tested Zelda’s
medical skills when he joined their motley crew, had a scar in
place of one eyebrow. It was hardly noticeable under his shaggy
surfer locks, but even when he pulled his hair back on a hot day,
it was damn-near passable. His boyish good looks were safe in
Zelda’s hands.

While Kerri tied on an apron, Grant dropped
a ten dollar bill in the jukebox and punched in every Tom Petty
song the clunker knew. When he was done, he pulled up a stool and
folded his arms over the bar.

“
I saw the boy last night,
but who’s the new girl?” he asked, flipping up two coasters and
making a tent with them.

Zelda’s eyes bulged at Violet, who held her
hands up in protest.

“
Not a peep, Doc. I told
you this would happen.”

Grant cocked his head and his nostrils
twitched. “And the bitch is about to drop a litter.”

“
She-wolf,
Grant.” Zelda glared at him. “We’ve talked about
this.”

“
Yes, ma’am.” He hung his
head.

“
Who’s havin’ puppies?”
Kerri came around the corner with her arms full. “I always miss the
good gossip.” She dropped a stack of menus on the bar and reached
back to tighten her blond ponytail.

“
No one,” Zelda answered.
“Just a girl passing through. Needed a place to stay for a
night.”

Violet’s cheeks flushed as the others looked
to her for answers. She slammed the ice cooler door and tossed the
bucket to Kerri. “Put that back in the kitchen for me, would
ya?”

The bell above the door jingled again,
distracting everyone from the mystery girl discussion. Logan
entered the pub, his hands shoved tightly down in the pockets of
his jean jacket and his shoulders hunched. He spotted Zelda at the
bar and his scowl deepened.

The jukebox began
playing
Stop Dragging My Heart
Around
just as he pulled up a stool,
leaving an empty seat between him and Grant. The younger wolf gave
him a timid smile.

“
Rum and Coke,” Logan said
to Violet before she could ask.

Zelda desperately wanted to know about
Marla, but with so many supernatural ears in the vicinity, all she
could manage was an arched brow when Logan looked her way. He gave
her a short, single nod, and it was enough for the time being.

Violet slid Logan’s rum and Coke across the
bar and went back to polishing the hanging glassware. Sundays were
slow, so the downtime was spent on extra cleaning duties that
couldn’t be fit into the rest of the workweek.

Zelda usually passed the time taking
inventory and placing orders. But Sunday was also the unofficial
free clinic day at the pub. Mostly wolves—but sometimes
others—would come to Zelda with their more minor maladies: sprains,
colds, infected cuts, mange.