Blood Moon (7 page)

“
Theo, I’m cold. Hold me,”
she whispered.

Logan twisted the vest in his hands and
gritted his teeth, trying to decide what to do. Would she be
disappointed if she woke with him at her side when she was
expecting her late lover? How long could he hold her while she
cried out for another? How much could his heart take?

“
Please,” Zelda sobbed,
making up Logan’s mind for him.

There was an overstuffed chair in the corner
with a quilt draped over the back. He grabbed the quilt and threw
it over Zelda, tucking her in before crawling in next to her. He
wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in against his
chest.

Zelda’s ragged breath slowed and she tilted
her head against his. When her eyes closed, Logan lay awake
watching over her. He knew she probably needed more of the tea, but
for now, holding her seemed to be doing more good. For both of
them.

Chapter Twelve

Zelda knew it was a dream, but she tried to
convince herself it wasn’t.

She was in the car with Theo again, and they
were laughing as they sang along to a song on the radio on the way
home from Theo’s first company Christmas party as partner. Everyone
had called her Dr. Dane all night, mistaking them for a married
couple. Theo had played along, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Their two-year anniversary was coming up,
and Theo’s sister kept hinting that she’d been jewelry shopping
with him recently. Zelda would feign surprise when he proposed to
keep her future sister-in-law in Theo’s good graces. Her heart
still fluttered at the thought, so it wouldn’t be too hard.

The song ended and Theo smiled at her. “So,
Dr. Dane, are you on call tonight? Do you have room in your busy
schedule to pencil in a ruggedly handsome business man?”

Zelda raised an eyebrow. “Is this ruggedly
handsome business man in need of medical attention?”

“
Oh yes.” He nodded
vigorously and loosened the bowtie at his neck. “His problem is
dire. You see, every time he looks at his girlfriend, he’s struck
with the sudden urge to bed her. It’s the darndest thing—and rather
embarrassing when it happens in public,” he added, whispering to
the side of his fingertips.

Zelda giggled. “I should probably get him in
for an exam right away.”

Theo looked away from the road. His ornery
grin and sparkling blue eyes were never more beautiful, glowing in
the light of the full moon that hung in the clear night sky above,
shining down on the road that curved through the woods surrounding
his family’s weekend cabin in the mountains.

Zelda saw the deer first. She sucked in a
sharp breath, but there was no time for more. The front end of
Theo’s car hit the buck at full speed, and they spun off the road,
rolling down the side of a ravine and into a shallow creek.

The car landed upside down, and Zelda tasted
blood. The airbag had hit her hard, and she thought her nose might
be broken. There was glass everywhere. It glittered red, but she
couldn’t tell if it was from blood or the light of the moon. An
eclipse had taken hold of the sky while they’d lain unconscious,
and the crisp white light had shifted to a deep red.

“
Theo?” She groaned and
pushed away from the dash.

Theo’s breath rushed out in a gurgling rasp.
He stared wide-eyed at her, his head lying limp across the deflated
airbag over the steering wheel. Blood ran down between his eyes and
dripped off the end of his nose. It gushed from his lips and coated
his chin and throat. He took one last breath, and Zelda stared,
waiting for an exhale that never came.

“
Theo? Theo!”

Her hands trembled as she fought against her
seatbelt. When she finally freed herself, she unlatched Theo and
dragged him from the car, out the broken side window and across the
rocky bank of the creek.

She began CPR, blowing into his bloodied
mouth and doing chest compressions with shaking hands. Her flimsy
shawl had been forgotten in the accident, and her bare shoulders
shook violently in the cold night air.

After ten minutes, she pressed her forehead
to Theo’s chest and screamed, sobbing into his bloodstained
tuxedo.

“
No. No. No.”

She sat upright and rubbed her hands
together, feeling the electricity crackle beneath her skin. The
coven would never forgive her for this, but she didn’t care.

She placed one hand in the shallow creek
water and one on Theo’s chest. Then she tilted her face up to the
blood moon above and summoned every ounce of power she had access
to.

Three raw screams ripped through her skull,
and her own joined them as lightning splintered through her body
and into Theo’s. He convulsed as his back bowed and his chest rose
up off the ground. Soon he was screaming too.

But at least he was alive.

Chapter
Thirteen

Zelda woke covered in sweat. Her everything
hurt. A stray dreadlock stuck to her damp face, and her throat was
dry. She tried to sit up, but found a heavy arm draped over her
chest.

Logan snored softly beside her. The circles
under his eyes let her know that he hadn’t been asleep long, and
the fact that he was on top of the covers told her that he hadn’t
tried to get fresh with her.

Of course he
hadn’t,
she thought, catching a whiff of
her own breath. Someone had given her wolfsbane tea. The day before
came back to her slowly, and she gently moved Logan’s arm to
examine her own, peeling back the multiple dressings.

The blisters on her palm and forearm were
already healing, but the werewolf bite looked infected. Pus seeped
from the wound, and the greenish bruise had turned purple.

Zelda sat up slowly, pausing to catch her
breath when her head throbbed in protest. She noticed the full,
abandoned cup on the bedside table and took a small sip, cringing
at the foul, lukewarm tea.

She stood gingerly and picked up the tray
with the teapot before making her way downstairs to the
kitchen.

A sliver of morning light peeked in through
the curtains of the back door as she refilled the pot and placed it
on the stove. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she noticed a
small wooden box on the kitchen counter. A note accompanied it,
written in Dr. Delph’s nearly illegible handwriting, instructing
her to drink at least three cups a day for the next week—unless she
wanted to be a legitimate alpha.

Zelda snorted and opened the box, finding a
stack of smelly wolfsbane teabags inside. But her smile melted as
she heard the jukebox kick on from inside the pub.

She slowly pushed through the swinging doors
and stared across the empty bar, lit only by the pale morning light
coming in through the front door, since the broken window had been
boarded up.

A shadowy figure sat on a
barstool, nodding her head in time to the Eagles’
Witchy Woman.
Zelda’s
vision sharpened and her heart leapt into her throat.

“
Don’t worry, girl,” the
woman said softly. “If I’d meant you harm, I could have slit your
throat while you lay in your new lover’s arms.”

“
He’s not my lover,” Zelda
said. What little strength she’d recovered suddenly leached
away.

“
It matters not to me.”
The woman turned toward Zelda. Her face was a map of suffering, a
story that looked a hundred years old, though Zelda knew she was
barely forty. The shock sent her back a step. “Hazel?”

The woman nodded, a bitter smile tugging up
one side of her wrinkled face.

The last time Zelda had seen her had been in
California, the week before the accident. She had been
beautiful—thick auburn hair and skin like porcelain. Hazel’s vanity
and magic went hand in hand. It was how she had managed to maintain
her modeling career past her prime.

Zelda’s throat tightened. “How?”

Hazel’s wizened face creased deeper. “The
consequences were different for us all. Though I can’t quite peg
what it is you’ve had to suffer—other than your own stupidity.”

Zelda looked down at her exposed hand and
arm, the blisters barely visible in the low light. The pain paled
in comparison to what she’d woken to the morning after resurrecting
Theo.

Hazel tilted her head. “Whatever happened to
that boy you were so quick to sacrifice your sisters for?”

Zelda’s eyes watered as she cleared her
throat. “He’s gone.”

Hazel sighed and nodded softly. “You were
the best of us, but even you should have known better than to play
god.”

Zelda’s tears blurred her vision and
streamed down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. It was selfish and cruel. I
should have let him go, but I couldn’t.”

Hazel waved her off. “I didn’t come here for
an apology. You left the coven without the ritual bond-breaking. I
thought maybe you’d died trying to save that boy. I hadn’t felt the
pull of your will for damn near two years. The curiosity got to
me.”

Zelda frowned. “How are the others?”

“
I’m not one for crowds
these days,” Hazel said, narrowing her eyes. “But we stay in touch.
Maggie and Sarah still work together occasionally. Honestly, I
thought I might run into them here. They haven’t forgotten about
you.” She gave Zelda a stern look. “If you plan on doing any more
dabbling, I suggest you take the proper precautions and sever your
ties to the coven. That’s the only bit of advice you’ll be getting
from me.”

“
Thank you.” Zelda took a
small step forward, stopping when Hazel hissed at her.

“
That’s close
enough.”

The older witch stood abruptly, gripping the
back of the barstool to support her hunched over frame. She
grimaced and touched a charm dangling at her neck.

“
I forgive you, Zelda Mae
Fulmen. May we never meet again.” Hazel twisted the charm in her
arthritic hand and disappeared with a faint pop.

Zelda’s ears rang, and her stomach cramped.
She had vowed never to use magic again. Severing coven ties hadn’t
seemed necessary at the time. But if Hazel could find her, that
meant Sarah could too. And Sarah didn’t do forgiveness.

The teapot whistled and Zelda dragged
herself back into the kitchen. First, she needed to regain some of
her strength. Then she had some shopping to do. Coven severance was
a delicate ritual.

Chapter
Fourteen

Zelda took a quick shower, painfully washing
her wounds. When she redressed them, she stopped at her wrist so
the blisters along her palm could breathe. Then she pulled on a
pair of jeans and a long-sleeved tee shirt, hiding the worst of her
condition.

It wasn’t quite eight o’clock yet, so she
let Logan sleep in, leaving him a note to let him know she’d be
back by nine with coffee. The tea had left a sour taste in her
mouth that only intensified upon brushing her teeth. It seemed to
be working well enough, but she needed something stronger. She
slipped out the back door and made her way across town.

Spero Heights kept odd hours. A good thirty
percent of the town consisted of vampires and other nocturnal
species. They kept to the north end of town, referred to as the
Midnight District. Businesses that catered primarily to day-walkers
were situated along the south side, and the in-between businesses
were clustered in the middle.

The Crimson Moon sat to the west of town
square, a bit more south than north, since Zelda kept regular bar
hours. There was no sense in staying open all night for the
nocturnal crowd. The vampires of Spero Heights had their own bar in
the Midnight District.

On the outskirts of the
Midnight District, the only occult shop in Spero Heights was tucked
between a used bookstore and a salon. Nightshade and Morning
Glory
was run by a little old man named
Ben. His door was always open, day or night, which led Zelda to
believe that Ben didn’t sleep.

The store itself didn’t seem like it should
require such persistent attention, but Ben also maintained a
fantastic garden on the roof of his building. The greenery spilled
over the gutters, trailing down the brick façade. Twisted vines
fingered the doorframe and latticed over the windows, creating
living curtains that blossomed gorgeously for three seasons.

The internal garden was sheltered by a glass
greenhouse, protecting the fragile herbs that Ben grew year round.
He also harvested a fair amount of organic produce from his small
space that he sold at the farmers’ market.

Zelda had stopped using magic, but she
didn’t need magic to make good use of herbs and stones. The
necklace she wore had been fashioned from pieces she’d collected
from Ben’s store. The string of jet beads was accented by three
large onyx pieces, all embedded with precious stones.

The moss agate had been the first she’d
purchased. It aided in recovery, focus, and self-control, and it
welcomed new beginnings. Opposite of the agate was an infinity
stone, better known as the Healer’s Stone. It drew pain from the
body and sped healing—physical and emotional.

The amethyst, embedded in the largest center
piece on Zelda’s necklace, was the most significant. She acquired
it after her third wolf patient. Ben had been adamant about selling
it to her, so much so that he discounted it by more than half.
Amethyst focused healing energy, relieved anxiety and negativity,
and it also guarded against drunkenness—something Ben thought would
be useful in her new line of work.

When news spread about her soft spot for the
wolves, Ben was quick to point out the stone’s ability to protect
against poisoning too, something she was more grateful for, now
that she’d been bitten. The bite still hurt like hell, and the
silver dressings weren’t helping with the infection as much as she
thought they would, but at least she wouldn’t be sprouting fur any
time soon. She had enough inner demons to contend with.