Beneath a Blood Moon (82 page)

Without any idea who the wolf was, I patted my weapon, bared my teeth in a grin, and said, “Safest kitchen ever. Cleanest, too.”

The wolf backed away, retreating in the direction of the pile of furry bodies.

“Maybe that wasn’t the best first impression,” I muttered beneath my breath, decided I didn’t care, and went back to scrubbing, determined to eradicate the few remaining patches of discolored grout. When I finished, I checked on the wolves.

A few were awake, watching me.

My misgivings remained. What if there were still traitors? I didn’t know the wolves who were awake; I couldn’t even tell Joseph apart from the others. While Desmond was close to protect my mate, was he enough if one of them tried something?

My second fear—that one of them would seek revenge for my part in the deaths of so many in our pack—gnawed away at me.

A final worry whittled at me, cutting even deeper than the rest. Even if I tried to be a part of the pack, would they want me? Sanders did, of that I had no doubt. The others had fifteen reasons to reject me. Without me, the traitors wouldn’t have been able to divide the pack or come so close to overthrowing their Alpha.

My mate still slept, nestled at the heart of the pile, far from my reach. If I wanted to go to him, I’d have to crawl over at least ten or twenty wolves. Wendy hadn’t minded disturbing them in her determination to reach Desmond.

I turned to head to the couch. A wolf with bright yellow fur and white splotches regarded me, head tilted to the side. I stepped back, my eyes widening. A sniff told me the Fenerec was male, though with so many around, I couldn’t discern more than that.

With his tongue lolling out of his mouth, he jabbed his nose at me, ears pricked forward. I sidestepped, stood on my toes, and spun away. I stepped over two wolves, dancing out of his reach.

He pranced in place, wagging his tail furiously. Once again he thrust his nose out at me.

“Hey, stop that,” I complained, batting his muzzle away.

Rearing up on his hind paws, he stood as tall as me, and with a warble, he shoved my shoulders. I fell back with a startled cry, landing on the pile of sleeping wolves. My elbow cracked into a wolf’s head, drawing a pained yip from my accidental victim and me.

Wiggling his rump like a cat preparing to pounce, the wolf watched me, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“No, wait, don’t—”

He jumped onto the pile, careful to avoid landing on me, though he showed no such consideration for his fellow wolves. Shoving his nose in my face, he dragged his tongue from my chin to my scalp. I yelped my dismay, twisting to escape his slobbery assault. Warbling so loud my teeth rattled together, he pressed his ice-cold nose to my throat.

My shriek woke the pack.

Excited yips drowned out my protests. The Fenerec turned on me and unleashed their most potent weapons: rancid morning breath and wet tongues.

Slobber covered me from head to toe. In their enthusiasm, the wolves had tangled my hair, torn my shirt, and left behind countless bruises from their too-eager application of teeth. My wolf adored their play. I wanted to find a hole and hide in it until the Fenerec came to their senses.

My mate bowed and warbled at me, and like the instigating wolf, he wagged his tail so enthusiastically his entire body swayed.

“Well, someone’s happy,” Desmond said, emerging from the bathroom near the dining room, toweling his hair dry. “Good morning, Sara.”

I glared at the Alpha, and for a long moment, I considered shooting him for sounding so cheerful. The sight of him smiling had me reaching for my Glock, contemplating whether or not I could fill the wall behind him full of holes without hitting him.

“They
licked
me,” I snarled, flexing my hand. It took all of my will to lower my arm so I wouldn’t unholster my gun and open fire.

“You do look rather well bathed,” he replied.

“You helped them.”

“It looked like too much fun to resist.”

Wendy giggled. “They’re just excited and happy to see Sanders, and once excited, they lack restraint and dignity.”

“I noticed.”

Warbling at me again, Sanders rose up to his full height, rested his paws on my shoulder, and licked my cheek. After a sleepless night, I was too tired to fend him off—or support his weight. I sank to the floor, and with a contented huff, my mate flopped across my lap.

“Okay, mutts,” Desmond called out, clapping his hands together. “Time for you all to head home. I have a family to feed, which doesn’t involve the gluttonous appetites of all of you. Unless, of course, you want to help clean up the fur you’ve left in my house.”

They cleared out with awe-inspiring speed, leaving only the Fenerec needing to transform to drive the others home. Within forty minutes the pack was gone, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

The only thing worse than wet dog slobber was dried dog slobber, and wailing at the way my skin crawled, I shoved at my mate’s shoulder. “I need a bath or I’m going to die.”

Sanders cocked his ears back, sighed, and got up.

“Take a quick shower, Sara. We have a few things to discuss,” Desmond ordered.

“What? Really?” Snarling a curse, I staggered to my feet. “No. No, no, no, no, and no. I’m taking a bath. Once I have taken my bath, I’m going to bed. Talk to Richard. He has a nice mouth.”

Perking his ears forward, my mate headed to the bathroom, grabbing the folded pile of clothes waiting for him on the dining room table. The playful gleam in his eye promised trouble, and pleased I had captured his attention, I headed upstairs.

I was seated on the edge of the filling tub when my mate wandered in wearing a towel and a smile. Pleasure sweetened his scent, but it was the alluring undertone of his arousal that caught and held my attention.

“What happened to your clothes?” I asked, arching a brow at him.

“Too much work. I wanted to save my strength for more important pursuits.”

“And Desmond?” I demanded, not bothering to mask my irritation.

“I told them talk could wait,” he murmured, prowling towards me. The husky quality of his voice sent shivers racing through me. “I also told them we were going to be very, very busy and wouldn’t appreciate a single interruption. I was nice and said please. Haven’t I been good?”

I loved the way he looked at me, his gaze sliding over me from head to toe before moving upward again. I especially liked the way he focused on my lips.

It’d been far too long since we’d had any time together alone, and I shivered from anticipation. Reaching down, I turned off the faucet, contemplating what I would do to and with my mate—and how I’d give him a taste of the benefits of the wolfsbane still in his system.

I smiled. “You’ve been good—mostly. Did you enjoy seeing your wolves this morning?”

“I was surprised to see them all. I enjoyed it very much. It’s been a long time since we’ve all been together like that. Wendy told me you invited them. Thank you.” He brushed his fingers against my cheek, and I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch.

“I just wanted to make you happy.”

“You have. You do. You made them happy, too.”

 “I don’t see how,” I muttered. “And if that made them happy, they have an odd way of showing it. They licked me. Gross.”

Leaning towards me, he murmured in my ear, “You don’t seem to mind it when it’s me.”

My wolf’s eagerness infected me, and growling, I scraped my teeth against his throat. “Is that so? I’m not sure what you’re talking about. You better show me,” I suggested.

He needed no other invitation.

I never found out what Desmond wanted to talk about. I fell asleep in the tub and woke when my mate insisted on shoving food down my throat like it or not. Joseph had been right; I was scrawny. It took a week before I felt like I thought I should, although Sanders made disapproving noises each time I weighed myself.

We stayed with the Desmonds for two more weeks, partially at my insistence and partially at theirs.

In truth, I didn’t want to go to Sanders’s house. Between the creaky floors and the reminders of Mary, I wanted to start our new life together in a place belonging to us equally without old memories haunting us. I bided my time, waiting for word our new house was ready.

It was a little after noon when my cell rang. Excusing myself, I headed into the living room before answering, “Hello?”

The Shadow Pope replied, “Good morning, Sara. How are you today?”

“Is it ready?” I demanded.

He laughed. “It’s ready. Eager, aren’t you?”

Glancing over my shoulder, I cupped my hand over the phone in the hope my mate wouldn’t hear me. “I fell through the floor when we stopped by the other house last week. I’m lucky I didn’t break my foot. I sprained my ankle and ended up limping around like a cripple. I wanted to burn the place down, but Desmond wouldn’t let me.”

“Arson is illegal, even if you do own the building you’re burning down, Mrs. Sanders. In the interest of preserving your feet, however, I’ll see about a complete renovation on your other property. I’m certain we can come up with a mutually beneficial payment plan for the work.”

“Don’t you even think of letting him pay for it; I’ll pay for it myself,” I hissed.

“Why are you whispering?”

“If I don’t, they’ll hear me. Where can I get the keys for the house? Where is it? Give me the address!”

“You will find it very easy to get to, Mrs. Sanders. Merely make a left hand turn at the end of the driveway, go to the first four-way intersection, and make a left hand turn. It’s the house at the very end of the street. It’s in walking distance. As for the keys, someone is there with them. Try not to leave them waiting too long.”

I blinked. “You’re joking, right?”

“I thought it might be amusing if you were neighbors—and technically you are. You both own a great deal of forested land, which happens to share a property line.”

Wailing my dismay at our inability to escape the Desmonds, I hung up on the Shadow Pope.

“What’s wrong, Sara?” my mate demanded, hurrying into the room. With their eyes wide, Desmond and Wendy followed in his wake.

“We have a new house—one that won’t eat my feet. There is one very notable problem with this house,” I snarled, glaring at Desmond. “This is all your fault, isn’t it?”

Holding his hands up in surrender, Desmond shook his head. “It is no longer safe for my health to poke the pregnant bitches with sticks. I value my life. What have I done now?”

I sniffed, seeking the sour scent of a lie, but didn’t find even a hint of deceit. “You swear you had nothing to do with this?”

“With this mysterious problem with your new house? What’s wrong with it?”

I grabbed handfuls of my hair and yanked, howling my frustration. “All I want is a single night where the house doesn’t try to eat me and I don’t have to listen to you two compete to see who can scream the loudest.”

“What does that have to do with your new house?” Wendy asked, a puzzled expression on her face.

I sighed, hung my head, and mumbled, “They’re our neighbors, Matthew.”

Sanders sucked in a breath. “Come again?”

“Neighbors. It’s what happens when two households share a property line,” I informed him. “If I hear you two screaming—or making any other noises for that matter—I’m coming over and shooting you, Desmond. Tonight, I am getting a complete and undisturbed sleep. Am I understood?”