Blood Moon (2 page)

“
Six months.” The girl
pressed her lips together and pulled her chin out of Zelda’s grasp.
“And I’m eight months along. And yes, I’m well aware of all the
horrible birth defects that my unborn children might have as a
result of my reckless and selfish behavior.” She clutched the
comforter in tight against her chest as her voice broke. “I quit as
soon as I found out, and no amount of lecturin’ is gonna fix
anything, so you can save your breath.”

Zelda eased back and sat on the edge of the
bed, resting her hands in her lap. “Lectures cost extra. I was just
wondering if you had any prescriptions that needed filled through
Orpheus House.”

Setting bones and stitching flesh came
easily to Zelda, but drug addiction was another animal entirely.
For that, she relied on help from Orpheus House, the local rehab
center.

The girl relaxed and shook her head softly.
“No, ma’am. I quit cold turkey.”

“
Even better. I’ll have
Violet bring you up a bite to eat.” Zelda stood and turned for the
door.

“
Wait!” The girl snatched
her arm. “Please, don’t leave me here alone.”

“
My apartment is just
across the hall.” Zelda patted her hand. “If you need anything,
dial zero and it will ring me.” She tilted her head at the phone on
the bedside table.

The girl nodded, but the furrow between her
brows refused to soften. “Thank you.” She looked down at her hand,
still tightly gripping Zelda’s arm, and slowly uncurled her
fingers. “I’m Marla, by the way.”

Zelda gave her a gentle smile. “You’re
perfectly safe here, Marla. Get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the
morning.”

Zelda left, closing the door quietly behind
her, and found Violet waiting in the wide hall that ran between the
projection room apartments.

“
I suppose you caught all
that?” Zelda raised an eyebrow.

Violet chewed her bottom lip and rocked from
foot to foot. “Doc, I don’t mean to tell you your business, but you
ain’t never met Devin—and I think you ought to know what you’re
stepping in here.”

Zelda glanced back at the guest room door
and frowned before taking Violet by the elbow and leading her
toward the stairs down to the kitchen. When they were safely out of
earshot, she pulled the leftover barbeque from dinner out of the
refrigerator and began fixing a plate.

“
Is the boy all set up in
the other guest room?” she asked, glancing over at the bloody rags
piled in a wash tub beside the sink.

“
Of course he is. Don’t
change the subject.” Violet paced back and forth between the dining
table and the long counter that sectioned off the
kitchen.

Zelda rolled her eyes. “I know what kind of
monster Devin Raymore is,” she said, pushing the saucy meat to one
side of the plate to make room for a scoop of fried potatoes. “I’ve
patched up his handiwork enough times.”

Violet leaned over the counter and clasped
her hands together until her knuckles popped. Her eyes glazed and
her voice came out in a low growl. “No. What you seen is a slice of
mercy—or luck. What you seen is Devin Raymore on a good day. On his
bad days, you can’t scrape enough of his handiwork off the ground
to fill a bucket.”

Zelda turned away from her and popped the
plate of leftovers in the microwave, trying to hide the shiver that
crawled up her spine. “You don’t think I should be helping her. Is
that it?”

Violet ran a hand through her short hair and
blew out a shaky sigh. “She’s carryin’ his babies. If he had left
her for dead, like he did the rest of us you got here, then it’d be
a different story.”

Zelda walked around the counter and slumped
down at the kitchen table. She ran a hand over the rough cracks in
the wood where a year’s worth of wolf blood had settled and dried,
a sad testament to the damage she had tried to mend. It was damage
she hadn’t caused, but seeing as how she couldn’t fix the carnage
she’d left back in California, it felt like appropriate
atonement.

“
I can’t just throw her to
the wolves, Vi.” She looked up with heavy eyes. “Helping people is
what I do.”

Violet’s brows cinched together, but she
nodded slowly. “I know, Doc. You just need to be careful with this
one.”

“
Maybe we shouldn’t tell
the others yet,” Zelda suggested.

“
They’ll smell her the
second they step foot in the bar.” Violet pinched her lips together
and stood as the microwave dinged. “You know, there ain’t no reason
you need to take this all on yourself. There’s people in this town
better suited to help in situations like this. And you know exactly
who to ask.” She staked Zelda with a meaningful look before digging
a set of silverware out of a drawer and heading upstairs with the
plate for Marla.

Zelda’s stomach swirled with a toxic mixture
of excitement and terror. She knew exactly who to ask for help. She
just didn’t know if she was willing to pay the price that a favor
from Logan Chase would cost.

Chapter Three

Zelda woke up early Sunday morning. The pub
was quiet, and it would be until later in the afternoon. The wolves
had recently taken interest in a little Methodist church on the
edge of town. They were pack creatures, and while the environment
Zelda offered at the pub had a certain air of family to it, it was
still a business.

The wolves had tried to come together under
her roof, and they’d tried to mark her as more than just their
employer. Even though she wasn’t a wolf herself, they viewed her as
one of their own. She was their savior and provider. But as much as
Zelda cared for them, she’d let her past remain a big fat question
mark. It made them wary of her, but it was just as well. She didn’t
radiate dominance the way wolves needed in an alpha. The only one
who hadn’t pressured her to take on more leadership had been Logan
Chase.

When Logan looked into Zelda’s eyes, it
wasn’t with reverence and gratitude. It was with something much
more primal, and it did strange things to Zelda’s insides. Hiring
him had been a bad idea. He asked questions the others let lay. He
fingered old wounds—sometimes simply by the way he smiled.

Logan would have made a good alpha, but in
addition to not begging Zelda to play master, he had no interest in
being one himself. Of course, the fact that he wasn’t a Raymore
refugee that she’d nursed back to health separated him from the
others. He didn’t join them at church either.

It took two cups of coffee before Zelda
found the nerve to make the call.

Logan answered on the first ring. “What’s
wrong?”

“
What? Nothing,” Zelda
sputtered. “I mean, something, but it’s not an emergency.” She
frowned at the receiver. “What makes you think something is
wrong?”

“
You never call me on
Sunday.” He sounded amused.

Zelda snorted. “Are you busy? I need to talk
to you, but I don’t know that it should be done over the
phone.”

“
Something
is
wrong.”

“
How soon can you be
here?” she asked.

“
Give me ten minutes.” He
hung up without saying goodbye.

Zelda’s stomach churned. She hadn’t expected
him to come so soon. She crossed her room to glance in the oval
mirror above her vanity. She never knew how to present herself to
Logan. If she looked too nice, she was afraid he would take it as
an invitation. But if she remained unpolished, she feared becoming
too approachable.

It was a gamble either way. Letting Logan
break through her defenses would be the end of her. She was sure of
it.

Zelda went downstairs to the kitchen.
Meeting with Logan in her apartment felt too personal. Too
intimate. Besides, the injured boy and Marla were still snoozing
across the hall in the guest rooms, and they both looked like they
needed all the rest they could get.

The bloody rags from the night before were
gone, and the kitchen was spotless. A box of fresh donuts rested on
the old oak table, along with a scrawled note from Violet. The girl
made a habit of bearing gifts any time the wolves did something
without Zelda. Not that they hadn’t invited her to join them at
church.

Zelda touched the necklace around her
throat. She didn’t have any business in a church. There was no god
out there that could forgive her sins.

A sharp rap at the back door made her jump.
She rounded the oak table and peered through the curtained window
before unlocking the deadbolt to let Logan in.

He filled the doorway, the enticing aroma of
his aftershave and earthy musk slipping past the threshold as he
waited for her to beckon him inside. His hair was short and dark,
almost a military cut, and Zelda wondered if it would curl if he
let it grow. Caramel skin hinted that he might have Latino roots,
though he was as tight-lipped about his past as she was about her
own.

When she waved him inside and quickly closed
the door, he smiled at her, his bright green eyes sparkling with
mischief. “Where’s the fire?”

Zelda’s knees trembled, and she prayed he
wouldn’t notice. “Upstairs.”

“
In your bedroom?” He
lifted a thick brow. “What are we waiting for?”

Zelda felt her cheeks warm. “Devin Raymore’s
mate is sleeping in one of the guest rooms.”

“
What?” The teasing humor
drained from his face.

“
I know, I know,” she
snapped. “Violet’s already given me the third degree.”

“
She can’t stay,” Logan
snarled. He took a step toward the back stairs.

Zelda cut him off, defiance twisting up her
face. “This is my place, and I’ll decide who stays and who goes.
Got it?”

Logan relaxed into a more guarded
expression, though his eyes still smoldered. “I’ve never met the
guy, but I still know this is not a good idea, Zee.”

Zee.
It made Zelda’s heart skip when he used the nickname.
Everyone else called her Doc. She dismissed the flutter in her
stomach and stood firmly in his path.

“
Why do you think I asked
you to come?” She folded her arms, instantly regretting it when
Logan glanced down and grinned at the goosebumps spreading across
her skin.

“
If you’re asking for my
advice—”

“
I’m asking for a
favor.”

Zelda took a cautious step back when his
eyes locked on hers again. It wasn’t a nice look.

“
No. You want
me
to ask for a favor.”
He folded his arms to mirror her and leaned against the door behind
him. “What makes you think my sister will give a shit about one of
the pack rejects you’re harboring?”

Zelda bristled at his
prejudice. She knew the only reason Selena Chase had allowed her
baby brother to work at the pub was so that he could keep an eye on
the
riffraff
Zelda welcomed into their precious town.

Spero Heights was
precious though. It hadn’t taken Zelda long to
figure that out. There was scarcely a normal human soul living for
miles around. And the supernatural citizens weren’t exactly normal
by paranormal standards either. The entire town was one big
sanctuary for broken monsters. It was the reason Zelda had settled
there after a year of aimless wandering. She felt right at
home.

Zelda lifted her chin to meet Logan’s harsh
gaze. “This girl is not a pack reject. She barely escaped with her
life, and the lives of her unborn children.”

Logan blanched and dropped his arms. “Have
you lost your mind? You can’t house that crazy alpha’s pregnant
bitch. What are you thinking?”

“
Don’t call her that.”
Zelda crinkled her nose at him.

Logan thrust a finger at
the stairs. “That’s what she
is
,” he growled.

“
I don’t care,” Zelda
hissed. “Unless you work out something with your sister, she stays.
I won’t be throwing out a battered, pregnant girl.”

Logan clenched his teeth and his jaw flexed.
“You’re impossible.” He held Zelda’s stare a moment longer,
challenging her dominance like they were in an alpha showdown. When
she refused to look away, he sighed and ran a hand over his face.
“Fine. I’ll see what I can do—but I’m not making any promises.”

Zelda relaxed and placed a gentle hand on
his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“
Don’t mention it,” he
grumbled, though most of the hostility had slipped from his voice.
He glanced down at her hand, still touching his arm, and caught it
before Zelda could pull away. “We could still go check your bedroom
for fires, if you want.”

Zelda’s breath hitched. Logan’s sudden mood
shift had caught her off guard, and now the electricity of his skin
against hers blurred her thoughts.

Logan pulled her in closer and dipped his
face down to playfully brush a stray dreadlock back with his nose,
whispering his warm breath along her temple. “Or maybe we could
find a fire right here in the kitchen.”

Zelda’s knees buckled again, and this time
she was sure Logan noticed, with one knee deviously slipping
between hers. Her heart picked up speed as he closed the distance
between them.

“
Theo,” she whispered,
instantly flushing from her error. Her heart froze in her chest as
her mind reeled from the memory of her last lover.

Logan stiffened, and not in the way Zelda
had been anticipating. “Who the hell is Theo?”

“
No one,” she said,
immediately biting her tongue. “Someone.”

Logan’s anger dissolved into bitter
amusement. “Well, which is it?”