DARKSIDE OF THE MOON (12 page)

“Even as a werewolf, I doubt you would hurt me.” She spoke softly.

“Are you fucking serious?” He shot her a heated glare. “Skylar, I have no control over my body anymore, and if I don’t find a way to cure it, I’m as good as gone.”

“What do you mean?” She frowned. Was he sicker than he was letting on?

“What do you think is going to happen when I shift in front of humans? That crime is punishable by death.”

“Yeah, but you are a higher-ranked Guardian. They won’t punish you for something you can’t control.”

“Yeah? How am I going to prove that I can’t control it? Is there some kind of werewolf test you can buy at the fucking drug store where you can pee on a stick?” he growled.

Irritation flared in her gut, and she fought to keep her temper under control.

“I get that you are frustrated about your condition, but you have no right to talk to me like I’m an idiot.”

“Then get your head out of your ass and understand what’s going on.” He slammed his fist on her dresser. The wood cracked and splintered.

“You need to back that shit up right now, Zane Steele. You may be a male, but I’m not going to stand here and take your shit. Are we clear?” Her body trembled under her anger, and she wanted nothing better than to knock him on his ass.

And it was looking like she was going to get her chance.

A low growl rumbled out of his throat as he threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. His mind was fighting with his body to control his shift, but it was a battle he was quickly losing.

Sweat popped out across his body as his muscles strained to accommodate his new form. He fell to his knees, adrenaline coursing through him, fueling his transition into wolf. His muscles stretched and lengthened as his tendons shifted into his new body.

Why the fuck couldn’t he control his own goddamn body? He couldn’t continue to live this way. He wouldn’t.

He lifted his head and opened his eyes, hoping Skylar had the sense to take off before he could hurt her.

“Zane.”

He jerked his head to the corner of the room, where she was standing like a goddess in nothing but that damn sheet wrapped around her. Her beautiful red hair hung like satin curtains to her shoulders, and her blue eyes met his.

He growled, showing off his teeth and hoping she would get the hint and run like hell.

She dropped to one knee and held out her hand. “I know you won’t hurt me. I trust you.”

Rage and anger pulsed through his body. The urge to taste blood swamped him. How the hell was he not going to hurt her? He had lost all his control. Why didn’t she understand?

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force the shift back into human.

But his body couldn’t be controlled. He couldn’t be controlled.

Opening his eyes, he saw his target. And pounced.

***

Skylar had braced herself, hoping that any minute Zane was going to snap out of it and shift back into his human form. Or at best, be able to control his anger in wolf form.

She knew she had figured wrong the second his eyes popped open and his pupils dilated. The only thing she could do now was brace herself for the attack.

He pounced and shoved her to the floor, and his massive body pinned her down. She sucked in a breath at the impact. His hot breath was inches away from her neck as he growled low and deadly.

Bloodlust. He wanted blood. He wanted her blood.

The realization had her frantically searching for some object on the floor with which to defend herself. A shoebox sat a foot away from her face.

She never bought shoes, and she sure as hell couldn’t remember what she’d put inside this particular box. Hopefully something heavy, like a brick.

She reached out and grabbed the box with one hand. Surprisingly, it was pretty heavy. Her fingers found the top and she tried to pry open the lid, but it wasn’t budging. It was tied down with some twine.

Zane lifted his head back and growled, and she knew what was coming next. He was going to rip her throat out. She’d been around alpha males enough to know the drill. Once they were set on bloodlust, nothing would satisfy them. They needed the taste. Craved it.

Grasping the shoebox in her hand, she brought it down hard across Zane’s furry head. He fell off her and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

“Oh, shit. I killed him.” Her heart dropped to her toes. “Please God, tell me I didn’t kill him.”

A tear escaped from behind her eyes and rolled down her cheek. Forgetting her sheet, she crawled over to his lifeless body and laid her head on his chest.

He was so very still.

She held her breath as she waited for his heart to beat.

When she felt the strong, steady beat against her cheek, she let tears fall freely.

Lying down beside him, she sobbed into his furry body.

***

“I like this one, Ava.” Granny pointed to the painting in shades of green and yellow and gray that hung along the brick wall of Ande Allison’s art studio. “It reminds me of coming home again.”

“It reminds me of a hot summer day and lying naked in the grass.” Ava nodded and turned to Damon. “Damon, what does this remind you of?”

“It reminds me that I need to be working on a mission for Barrett instead of wandering around some artsy fartsy studio.” He scowled and placed his hands on his hips.

“But I want to get some art for our home.” Ava pouted and snuggled up to him.

Damn, he was always a goner whenever she touched him.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t get any. I just don’t think I need to be here with you.” He traced a finger down her cheek.

“I want you here with me.” She slid her arms around his neck and smiled up at him.

He pulled her tighter into his embrace, once again struck by the reality that she was all his.

“I know, baby, but I have a job I need to do.”

“What kind of work do you do, Mr. Trahan?” Ande Allison, the artist and proprietor, shot him a friendly smile.

“You could say I’m in the protection business.” He cut his eyes at the petite blonde.

“Oh, like a bodyguard. How exciting.” Her smile brightened.

Ava snorted and shook her head before slipping out of his arms. “Ande, I think I want to take those two over there. I know just the place to hang them.”

“Perfect. I’ll get them ready for you.” The artist began taking down the artwork.

“I like this one too,” Granny announced from the other side of the room. “It reminds me of something familiar.”

Damon followed Ava over to where Granny was standing.

Damon snorted as his gaze fell upon the picture that was leaning up against the wall.

“It’s something you haven’t seen in about fifty years,” Damon said as he took in the painting that clearly resembled a three-foot penis.

“Granny, are you sure you want that one?” Ava cut her eyes at Damon.

“Of course, dear. Why wouldn’t I?”

“’Cause it looks like a dick.” Damon barked out a laugh.

“Damon.” Ava jabbed him in the ribs.

“Oh, dear.” Ande hurried over to them and gave them an apologetic smile. He didn’t miss how the blush stole over her cheeks.

“I’m afraid that’s not for sale. You see, one of my students did that, and it didn’t turn out quite like it was supposed to.” The blush darkened.

“Was it supposed to be a dick?” Damon asked.

Ava jabbed him hard in the side.

“I think she was trying to paint a tree.” Ande put her arm around Granny and tried to herd the old lady away. But Granny wasn’t having it. She shrugged out of the woman’s grip and shook her head.

“But I’m interested in purchasing this piece.” Granny pursed her lips and continued to gaze upon the painting.

“I’m sorry, but I really can’t sell it.” Ande nibbled on her bottom lip as she looked to Ava for help.

“You don’t want that, Granny,” Damon offered. The last thing the woman needed was a picture of a giant dick hanging over her dining room table. Thanksgiving would never be the same again. “Besides, it belongs to her student, and she can’t legally sell something that doesn’t belong to her.”

“Fine.” Granny pursed her wrinkled lips and gave Ande a stern look that would make most humans back down. But to her credit, Ande didn’t budge. She just stood there with a cheery smile on her face.

“I do have something in the back you might like. You did say you were from Louisiana?”

“That’s right.” Granny cocked her head, clearly interested in what the artist had that might pique her interest.

“I’ll be right back.”

A few seconds later, Ande returned with a sizeable canvas and leaned it against the brick wall. Abstract bright red and fuchsia swirls and slashes of green were painted behind what appeared to be an abstract black wrought-iron fence.

“It’s beautiful. And it reminds me of one of the gardens in the Garden District of New Orleans.” Granny’s wide smile stretched her wrinkles to the corners.

“That’s where I got my inspiration.” Ande clasped her hands together as a look of unabashed pleasure crossed he face. “I stayed at a B&B there on my last trip to New Orleans.”

“It’s perfect. I’ll take this instead.” Granny pulled her wallet out of her white plastic purse.

“I’ll wrap it for you so it won’t get damaged.”

Damon sighed and glanced at his Luminox watch again.

“What’s with you, anyway?” Ava came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her small, pert breasts pressed into his back, eliciting a reaction from his body.

“Nothing. Art isn’t my thing. You know that, Ava.” He turned, pulling her into his embrace.

She looked up and narrowed her astute eyes at him. “You’re not just here on a visit, are you? Did Barrett send you here on a mission?”

He pressed his lips together in a thin line, warning her not to say anything, especially around Granny. The last thing he needed was her interference while on a recon mission for his Pack Master.

“Ava...” He warned.

“I know, I know. You can’t tell me.” She pouted.

“That’s right. You knew what you were getting into when you mated me.” He grinned and pressed his lips to hers in a heated kiss.

Her lips parted, and he didn’t miss his chance to taste her sweet mouth. He groaned as he dipped his tongue between her lips while holding her snug against his body. Her hands slid up his bare arms and laced together behind his neck, pulling him further into the kiss. His body began to ache with that familiar need that always grew when she was in his arms.

Nothing ever felt as good as his Ava. Nothing.

“Ahem.” Granny cleared her throat behind him.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from his mate and faced the older woman.

“Now, now. You two need to have better manners than to be making out like two rats in a wool sock. Why, Mrs. Allison is going to think I’ve raised a wild animal.”

Ava barked out a laugh at the ironic meaning while he gave Granny a smile. “No one would think that, Granny.”

“They better not. I’ve got a reputation to protect, you know.” She hiked her white purse up on her shoulder and nodded at him to take the canvases the artist had wrapped for them.

“Thank you so much. I hope you’ll enjoy your new pieces.” Ande handed the canvases to Damon and smiled.

He breathed out a sigh of relief as they made their way out the door. One day at the gallery was enough to last him a lifetime.

***

Pain seared his head as Zane blinked his eyes open and stared up at the white, bumpy ceiling.

He held up his hand.

He’d shifted back to his human form while he had been unconscious.

Wincing, he glanced down at the heavy weight that was pressed against his chest. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips when he saw Skylar’s dark red locks spilled out across his skin. Her slender shoulders were shaking as tears slid down her face and landed on his naked chest.

He cupped the back of her head. “Skylar.”

Her head jerked up, and she met his gaze.

“Oh, my god. I thought I’d killed you. And then I saw you were breathing and I thought maybe you had brain damage because you wouldn’t wake up. You’ve been out all day.” She buried her face in the crook of his neck and clung to him like a vine.

“Nope. No damage.” He winced as another pain shot through his skull. He rubbed the side of his head. “What did you have in that box anyway? A brick?”

“No. Rocks,” she said pitifully.

“Of course. What else would be in a shoebox?” He wanted to laugh, but it hurt too fucking bad.

She pulled away and met his gaze. Her lip quivered as she stared at him, so very serious. “Sophia gave it to me. She collects rocks, and she wanted me to have a collection too.”

He eased up on his elbows and glanced down at his nudity. Skylar glanced at his erection, and her face turned a pretty shade of pink. She looked away as she tried to continue her conversation.

“Who’s Sophia?”

“A very special friend.” Skylar gave him a true smile.

Whoever Sophia was made Skylar happy. He was glad she had a friend she could count on. Although he did wonder about a grown-ass woman collecting rocks. Seemed kind of juvenile.

To each her own.

He got his feet under him while Skylar kept her arm around his waist to steady him. He didn’t bother telling her that there was no way she could bear his weight if he did fall—he liked the way she felt against him too much to say anything.

He ambled into the living room and eased himself onto the couch. While he didn’t feel any blood coursing down the side of his head, he knew that it was probably bruised at best. He glanced out the window into the darkness. She must have hit him pretty hard to make him lose consciousness for almost twelve hours.

“You know how to handle yourself, I’ll give you that.” He cracked a smile.

“God, Zane, I’m so sorry. It was just—you had bloodlust in your eyes, and it was like you couldn’t even see me…”

He cupped a hand under her chin. His thumb grazed the bottom of her full lip as he searched her face. “Don’t be sorry. You did what you needed to do. I’m the one who needs to apologize.”

His chest ached with remorse. He could have killed her. And he wouldn’t have remembered any of it.