Page 36 of Broken Moon

He leaped at me then, pullingsomething from his pocket at the same time, and I have to admit, I was taken bysurprise. I’d thought I would have a few minutes before I needed to beat theshit out of him.

He hit me in the face with asmall, black, rectangular stun gun, which felt like a dozen tiny knivesstabbing me through my cheekbone, and as I reeled, he lifted his fist andslammed it against my nose. Blood flew and splashed against his face, and for asecond, his eyes went blank and he gave what looked like an orgasmic shudder.

The stun gun and the blow sentme up against the wall, but I was a wolf, however hobbled I might be. I foughtdemons, chased spirits, and took out the occasional rogue vampire. I was notgoing to have trouble with Trevor Short.

I could have pulled my blade andended him fast—but I could handle him without having to deal with a corpse. Ididn’t know exactly why it was important that I ended up here. To save the dog,maybe, or because if I didn’t get Trevor out of Jessie’s life, he would surely killher. Maybe that baby was going to grow up to be someone extremely important tothe world, and I needed to keep Trevor out of her life. Maybe it was all thosethings.

I just knew with everythinginside me that I had to get him to disappear. I had to make sure he was not anissue. But what about future women and future babies?

I couldn’t know.

He seemed surprised that Iwasn’t unconscious or crying or screaming. Then his eyes widened and herecoiled, and I knew my wolf was showing herself. I might not be able to shift,but he would see her in my eyes. I knew what they’d look like to him.

Eyes that went from hazel todeep amber, a face that subtly changed, teeth just slightly elongating intosharp points, and most of all, the agonized rage-filled snarl of a hobbledwolf.

He stumbled back so fast hefell, banging the back of his head off the kitchen table. He cried out, and Icould feel his rapid pulse and his pounding heart, could almost taste his richblood and his terror, and it was magnificent.

Because I was afraid the threatof what he was seeing would not be quite enough, I gave him something thatwould make him remember his terror. I buried my teeth in his upper arm, and Ibit him hard. Most of what I bit him with was my human self, but the wolf wasthere somewhere. There was no chance it would turn him, becauseIcouldnot turn, but it would do something to him. It would make him uneasy every timehe felt it or looked at it. More than uneasy. And he would leave.

“Please,” he screamed, andthrew himself under the old wooden kitchen table. “Don’t eat me. I won’t botherher or the kid. Get the fuck out of here.”

I stood over him, drippingblood, calm on the surface but the wolf had gotten a glimpse of the world.She’d gotten a taste of a human. She wanted out—and she was not calm. “You’llleave,” I told him. “You’ll leave Jakeston, you sadistic shit, and you won’tcome back. If you do, I will kill you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes.” He finally brokedown into wet, messy sobs, cowering under the table, his life changed.

Changed, because he’d seen thewolf. He’d felt her. And that was enough to scare any-fucking-body. “Pleasego,” he moaned.

“I’ll be watching you, whereveryou go, Trevor.” I walked to the door. “But for now, I’m going. And I’m takingthe dog with me.”

And I left him there, trying toget the awful, despairing taste of my wolf out of his brain. I didn’t think heever would.

I was counting on it.

ChapterSeventeen

When I pulled into DetectiveMoreno’s driveway, I turned off my car and sat there listening to the motorcool until he saw me and came out to get me.

He pulled open my door, thenwinced when he caught sight of me. I could imagine what I looked like. I hadn’tbothered looking at myself in the rearview mirror, but my cheekbone throbbedand my lower face and shirt were stained with the blood from my broken—thoughalready healing—nose.

“I have a bag in the back,” Itold him, suddenly tired. “With a change of clothes.”

He opened the hatch, taking histime, and I knew he was checking out all the neatly situated supplies. Stakesand axes and blades, the mini kit with vials full of holy water and graveyarddirt and even blood. The tools of my trade.

The dog, which I had yet toname, had climbed up on the passenger seat, turned around three times, then laydown with a sigh and went to sleep. He was likely enjoying being warm for thefirst time in his life. I made a mental note to call a vet to get him checkedout.

The detective held my bag inone hand and reached in to help me out of the car with the other. It wasn’tthat I was overly hurt or exhausted, I was simply mentally tired. Myunrelenting pain joined with my wolf’s sadness and all I could do, at least fora couple of minutes, was sit there and wallow in it.

“Come on,” Moreno said. “Let’ssay hi to the mayor. And Beth is eager to meet you. She’ll help you get cleanedup.”

Beth was the detective’s wife.“Can I bring my dog in?”

His face softened. “Yes. You canbring your dog.” And as we walked to his house, he noted, “He doesn’t lookhealthy.”

“I just picked him up,” I toldhim. “I’ll have to find him a good home. I took him from an asshole.”

“The one who did that to yourface?”

I nodded. “Sadistic son of a bitch.I had to warn him away from a girl and her baby.”