Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell
Blood on the Moon By Kelly O’Donnell
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell
Blood on the Moon By Kelly O’Donnell
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Blood on the Moon Copyright© 2010 Kelly O’Donnell ISBN: 978‐1‐60088‐507‐5 Cover Artist: Croco Designs Editor: Tracy Seybold All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Cobblestone Press, LLC www.cobblestone‐press.com
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell
Dedication I would like to thank everyone who has ever humored me by reading one or more drafts of whatever current story I’m working or who has listened to me rant when I’ve been in the mist of writer’s block. A special thanks to those in my writing group, my Mom, and my friend Camille, who have never lost faith that one day more than those in my own small world would want to read and enjoy my stories.
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell
Chapter One Gabrielle Hearn sat cross‐legged in the middle of her bed with the thick purple curtains pulled tightly around it. Staring into the scrying glass in her lap, she absently braided and unbraided one long black curl while envisioning the scene of the latest murder. Experts said serial killers liked to watch the police chase their own tails. As the crowd of eager on‐lookers at the mouth of the lower Eastside alley came slowly into focus, she hoped the same might be true for a murdering lycanthrope. “Speaking of police and tails,” Gabrielle murmured, her objective momentarily forgotten as Lieutenant Sheppard “Shep” Germaine’s tall, lanky silhouette strode across her glass. She cataloged every detail of Shep’s appearance, from the hard angle of his jaw to the fit of the well‐worn denim. Only when her finger started inching toward the glass to stroke his image did she snap back to sanity. She buried her face into a silk pillow and screamed loudly, thoroughly disgusted with herself. Given the preternatural nature of the murders, knowing Shep was in charge of finding and stopping the individual the press baptized the ‘Ritual Killer’ should’ve provided her some comfort. Unfortunately, Shep studiously ignored anything having to do with the preternatural, including the small fact that he himself was a shape‐shifting wolf. He was first and foremost a cop, believing the human system could work. Maybe if you were human. Gabrielle was first and foremost a guardian. She stood between preternatural and human, tasked with monitoring preternatural beings in
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell New York and cleaning up, then reckoning with, those whose actions threatened to “out” the rest of them. They should’ve been working together; instead he was a constant headache for her. If his father didn’t sit on the preternatural council—the governing body from whom she took orders—she would’ve fried his ass months ago, bedroom eyes be damned. Gabrielle watched Shep approach the yellow tape, his long strides deliberate. The air around him must be thick with the scent of fresh blood. She resisted the urge to rub her hands up and down her arms to calm the goose bumps. Five murders. Seventeen days. No witnesses. It was enough to give anyone goose bumps. “Lieutenant Germaine,” a reporter called out. Shep ignored her. “Are you any closer to catching the Ritual Killer?” His jaw tightened. “What measures are the NYPD taking to apprehend him?” Shep kept walking. “Yes, Lieutenant Germaine, what measures are the NYPD taking?” Gabrielle mimicked as Shep gave a courtesy flash of his badge to the waiting uniform then ducked under the tape. “Not enough, you asshole, and you know it.” Gabrielle flicked the back of his head, barely resisting the urge to send a discreet bolt of electricity through the glass and up his well‐formed backside. “Ouch! Hells bells, Gabby!” Tabitha yelled. Gabrielle cringed before reluctantly drawing aside her curtains. Tabitha—friend, fellow guardian, witch and shape‐shifter—stood in her bedroom doorway shaking her right hand up and down, her pixie short, strawberry blonde hair sticking up on end. Gabrielle suspected she’d wake up one morning not too long from now to discover Tabitha had turned her into a frog in revenge for the shocks she kept getting because Gabrielle couldn’t keep her emotions under control during this case. “You and Shep need to learn to play nice in the sandbox,” Tabitha said. As Tabitha padded toward her in gnome pajamas and pink bunny slippers, Gabrielle had difficulty taking her friend’s stern‐faced expression serious. Tabitha snapped her fingers. The candles around the room blazed
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell to life. Gabrielle blinked against the light. “What makes you think—“ Tabitha’s yellow‐green eyes flashed in the candlelight, stopping her lie. “He’s the one who gets all hot around the collar—“ “No pun intended.” Tabitha shook off her slippers and crawled into bed to peer over Gabrielle’s shoulder. “What rune symbol did the bastard leave with the body this time? If we don’t solve this soon, he’s going to run out of choices.” “Shep’s blocking our view.” Which he was. Gabrielle left out she’d been too distracted by him to focus on learning the new rune symbol. As if Shep could feel their stares, he rubbed the back of his neck, looking around. His eyes, a color Gabrielle often likened to coffee with one cream, darkened. “That’s right darling, I’m watching every move you make,” Gabrielle said. “Murdering lycanthrope and rift in the power equilibrium notwithstanding, that man can block my view whenever he wants.” Tabitha sighed dramatically. “Since when do cats and dogs mix?” Tabitha grunted. “When we stop this maniac, we’ll talk about cats and dogs.” “I can’t wait.” Stomping on the slight prick of jealousy, Gabrielle focused on the brutal scene spreading out before her in the glass. Shep approached the black pentacle slowly. Like the victims before her, Mary Smith laid face‐up, naked and spread eagle atop the pentacle. The black paint in the previous cases had traces of blood with both human and animal characteristics, stumping the lab, but unfortunately not Gabrielle. She was sure Shep knew what it meant too. The blood was from a lycanthrope. Since none of the victims were lycanthropes, it had to be the killer’s blood. He was messing with them. Gabrielle would bet her first born that Shep kept telling himself the fact that the killer was a lycanthrope wasn’t pivotal to the case, because the killings weren’t happening during a full moon. And unlike true shape‐shifters, like Shep, lycanthropes could only shift to their animal
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell form during a full moon. The other 27 days a month they were pretty much your average everyday humans. Shep was no doubt telling himself that for all intent and purpose the killer was human. Just thinking about his asinine logic caused the air to crackle around her. After several more seconds, Shep shifted enough for Gabrielle to see the new rune. “Isa” or “Standstill”. It looked like an “l”. Standstill was right. How appropriate. The NYPD kept from the press that the killer collected blood from each victim and that he was using it in each subsequent murder. Each rune was always written in the same blood. The NYPD lab would have to confirm it, but Gabrielle had little doubt that just like in the four previous scenes, the rune that had originally appeared with the first victim would be written in that victim’s blood, the rune that had originally appeared with the second victim would be written in that victim’s blood and so on. And the new rune would be written in Mary Smith’s blood. There must be a reason for it, but Gabrielle and Tabitha had yet to be able to figure it out. Gabrielle barely heard Tabitha absently murmuring the common meanings of the runes—Harvest, Partnership, Breakthrough, The Self, and now Standstill—her focus centered so completely on Shep and his reactions. “Goddamn magic.” Shep pressed a thumb and two long fingers to his temples. “Stubborn imbecile.” Gabrielle chose not to ease his building headache. Since he doggedly continued to ignore the obvious, he could suffer. “He’s got to come to us for help sooner or later.” Tabitha tapped on the glass, breaking Gabrielle’s concentration. “He’s not equipped to handle this on his own, and the NYPD, bless them, are blissfully ignorant.” “We can’t count on him seeing reason. He should shift into a mule, not a wolf.” Gabrielle shook her head. “We’ve got to find out enough about the killer’s end‐game on our own to begin work on a counter‐ritual.” Tabitha slid off the bed, slipped her feet back into her slippers and
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell padded toward Gabrielle’s bedroom door. “I’m going downstairs to the shop. There are some ancient texts I need to consult.” Gabrielle mumbled an acknowledgement but continued to watch Shep walk the scene, admiring the way his jeans stretched over his well‐shaped ass when he knelt to obtain a closer look at a piece of evidence. Pity he was such a jerk.
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell
Chapter Two At barely after nine a.m., Shep paced Spring Street outside of Gabrielle’s shop, Hecate’s Wheel, and cursed the killer for the umpteenth time for being preternatural. He’d joined the NYPD wanting a normal life, away from all things preternatural. But every corner he turned, every door he walked through, he slammed into it. Obviously he couldn’t continue to work this case as if he was dealing with a human killer, but he didn’t have to like it. He’d gladly choose the fires of hell over asking her for help, yet here he was, debating whether to knock. According to the sign, the shop opened at noon on Sundays. If he waited, he was simply delaying coming face to face with her. Cowardly, but he felt it was wholly justified. Gabrielle. She was all subtle curves, violet eyes, and piles of black curls. She called to him, but not just to him, to the wolf as well. Unnerving. The wolf reveled in her scent, a heady mixture of lavender and sandalwood. It stayed with him, in his nose, his hair, and on his clothes, for hours after being near her. He imagined his hands everywhere, caressing every inch of those curves, buried in her hair, digging into her hips. Fighting his attraction was as useless as fighting a siren’s call. So he stayed away. But now he needed her help. “Damn it to hell.” Shep stopped pacing and stared at himself in the shop window. He needed sleep. He ran his hand through his short brown hair and rubbed his palm over the couple day’s growth of beard. Not much he could do
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell about that. He smoothed the front of his red t‐shirt, adjusted his brown leather jacket, then forced himself to walk the last couple steps to the green door. Imagining walking the plank provoked similar feelings. Knowing he’d regret it, he pounded on the door anyway. He waited thirty seconds then pounded again. After another thirty seconds, he pounded again. “I’m coming! Hell’s bells!” she yelled. “Where’s the f—” Gabrielle pulled open the door. Seeing him, she clamped her jaw tight and glared. The chimes on the door sang in the silence. Shep’s gaze swept her from face to feet. The image of her in a partly tied silk purple robe with her long curls tumbling haphazardly around her would be forever seared to the back of his eye lids. “Is this for me or were you expecting someone else?” His tone was nasty. He didn’t know whether to strangle her or beg his torment be brought to a swift end. Hadn’t she ever heard of flannel? “What do you want?” She made no effort to cover herself. The color of the silk made her eyes, even narrowed in disapproval, appear large against her porcelain skin. “What did I tell you?” Tabitha yelled. Tabitha. She wasn’t alone. Shep almost felt relieved. Gabrielle’s temper raised the hair on his arms. “I repeat, why are you here?” He gritted his teeth, fighting to push back the power. She arched an eyebrow. “You know why I’m here, Gabby.” “Don’t call me Gabby.” Shep sighed. It sounded long and suffering even to his own ears. “Can I come in?” “You can make him suffer in here more easily,” Tabitha offered. Gabrielle seemed to consider that for a moment before smiling widely, the glint in her eyes a little too eager. “How right you are, Tab. Please, Lieutenant, do come in.” She stepped back, gesturing dramatically, exposing a large expanse of breast and black lace. His brain screamed
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell “serial killer on the loose”. The wolf growled “mine”. As Shep moved past, his arm rubbed against Gabrielle’s breast and sparks ignited between them. He jumped. “Christ, Gabby, shut it down!” Careful not to touch her again, he hurried past. “Tabitha,” he called. He did not want to be alone with her. Tabitha materialized beside him. Shep jumped again, colliding with one set of the wind chimes hanging from the ceiling throughout the shop. He felt like he’d taken a drink from the bottle labeled “Drink Me”. The small shop was packed with tables and shelves, crowded with bottles of oils, incense and dried herbs held together by ribbon and string. Candles and books, tarot cards and crystals, mortars and idols vied for space. And Tabitha in gnome flannel pajamas. Figured. “What’s the matter, can’t handle a little spark?”Tabitha said. “Would you both stop? I get the point.” He looked at Tabitha, then over his shoulder at Gabrielle. “You’re pissed. I should’ve come sooner. If you haven’t noticed there’s a lycanthrope raising a shitload of power. Truce?” Tabitha snorted. Gabrielle said nothing. She still stood near the door. At least she’d tied the damn robe. “What if I let you skewer me later?” he asked Gabrielle. It took Herculean effort to keep his attention on Gabrielle’s face and off her barely silk and lace clad body. “She may prefer if you skewered—“ “Tabitha!” Gabrielle cut her off. Tabitha grinned. After several seconds, Gabrielle said, “Fine.” She met his eyes and Shep felt the impact straight to his groin. “But we’re not done.” “Of that I have little doubt.” He grimaced, both because he knew she would make him pay in ways he could not imagine and because his erection was pressing painfully against the fly of his jeans. “Wait here while I change.” Gabrielle crossed the room, disappearing through a side door Shep assumed led to her apartment two floors above. Tabitha stayed with him, a cat who caught the canary grin wide across her face. How appropriate.
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell “The great Sheppard Germaine having to come to the witches for help. Oh my!” Tabitha giggled. “Will your pride ever recover?” “Isn’t gloating beneath you?” “Not in the slightest.” She winked at him. “Tab,” Gabrielle called down. “Cancel any appointments. We’ll keep the shop closed.” “On it,” Tabitha said. “Don’t touch anything,” she said to him. Pivoting in her bunny slippers, she disappeared through an opening behind the counter. The long strands of colorful beads hanging from the doorway clanked together behind her. Shep looked around him. It was all he could do to keep from leaving. There wasn’t an uncluttered surface anywhere. He pushed his hands deep into his pockets. He wouldn’t be touching anything. Not soon enough, he heard Gabrielle’s feet on the stairs. He turned as she entered. She’d pulled her long curls away from her face with a large clip and changed into jeans and a snug black sweater cut low in the front. Her feet, complete with purple toenails, were still bare. The wolf hummed. Shep’s body responded in kind. It was going to be a long freakin’ day. “Nice sweater,” he murmured. “We’ve set up in the back room.” Gabrielle pointed to the opening behind the counter, her voice barely audible. She cleared her throat. Maybe she wasn’t as immune to him as he thought. Interesting. “If you follow me, I’ll…uh…show you what we know.” Shep nodded and followed, enjoying the way her ass moved beneath the well‐fitting denim. When her sweater rode up to reveal an intricate Celtic knot tattoo on her lower back, he cleared his throat to disguise a groan. Maybe he should have led the way.
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell
Chapter Three The windowless back room was larger than Shep expected—equal in size to the shop. In one corner, metal shelves overflowed with extra stock; a large wooden table, a few chairs, and several white boards occupied the remaining space. The table was cluttered with two laptops, piles of crime scene photos, reports, pads of paper, highlighters, pens and pencils, and several books with “occult”, “symbolism” and/or “ritual” in their titles. Gabrielle walked over to one of the laptops and pressed several keys. Shep took a moment to enjoy her profile, enhanced by the snug black sweater. When he realized he was staring, he cleared his throat. “Where’s Tabitha?” She glanced up from the computer, around the room, and shrugged. “She must have popped out. She’s been spending a lot of time on the streets in cat form, listening. Sooner or later she’ll rub against someone who knows something. She always does.” So much for that buffer. Shep crossed the room, intending to walk the length of the white boards, keeping his focus on the case and off being alone with Gabrielle. On the first board, the victims stared back at him—three women and two men. He forced himself to meet the eyes of each victim and read the small details included about each person before moving to the second board. It listed each rune symbol, its traditional meaning and possible alternates and the names of several gods, goddesses and demons. He pulled from
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell his memory what he could about each name. Some were familiar, some not so much. His palms felt suddenly damp. He rubbed them on his jeans. Murdering lycanthropes he could handle. A blood thirsty demon—way above his pay grade. Give him a good ol’ fashioned murder any day—money, sex, power—he liked straight‐forward and uncomplicated motives. The final board held the date, time of death, and location of each murder. Below this morning’s murder, someone had written 3 future dates: October 7th, October 9th‐12th, and October 14th, with a question mark in parenthesis after the second set of dates. By each date was written the name of a moon phase, beginning with the Wanning Gibbus on September 19th, which had been the date of the first murder, and ending with the full moon on October 14th. Shep turned away from the board, the possibility of gods and demons forgotten in the wake of his sudden anger. If fury could emit true heat, Gabrielle’s back would have been covered with third degree burns. “Were you going to tell the NYPD?” “Tell them what? That he’s killing according to the moon phases.” Gabrielle turned, her face expressionless. “Our killer’s a lycanthrope. It wasn’t a great leap.” Shep was in front of her, glaring down at her before she realized he’d moved. She stared up at him calmly, like a mother waiting for her child to finish throwing a tantrum. He could smell her beeswax lip balm and in that moment, he didn’t know what he wanted more, to strangle her or kiss her. Not trusting himself, he stepped back, running his hands through his hair. “For Christ’s sake, Gabby, do you have to be so damn spiteful?” Gabrielle picked up a rubber band, and turned it over and over in her hand. “What would you have done? Put a plain clothes officer on every corner of the city? Tell everyone to stay home? Incite panic?” He threw his head back and yelled at the ceiling, “Goddamn it, I need to catch the son‐of‐bitch.” Gabrielle crossed her arms. “We, Shep, we need to catch the son‐of‐bitch.” She spoke quickly before he interrupted. “We also need to
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell contain the power he’s generated. And we need more than when he’s going to kill to do that. We need the ‘why’. We need the ‘who’ or the ‘what’ is represented by the Partnership rune.” “Which he’ll tell us when we catch him.” Gabrielle fought to keep her own temper in check in the face of his cop logic she so hated. “If you stop being pissed off at me, you’d admit he’s not going to tell us a damn thing.” Shep pivoted, his long legs putting him back in front of her in two strides. “You don’t have to stand over the next body in two days knowing you knew something but just not enough.” He pointed at himself. “It’s me.” He turned away from her, hands in fists. With a tortured groan, he dropped down into a chair, his head in hands. “Christ. Ignorance might’ve been better.” He looked up with tormented eyes. “I’ve been looking for connections. Nothing plays. I’ve looked for links between the victims. Gym. Dry cleaner. There aren’t any. I’ve plotted the locations of the murders on a map. There’s no discernable pattern. I can’t even begin to determine what the damn runes mean. The scenes are too cold and overrun for the wolf to be much help.” Gabrielle hid her surprise. If he was tapping into his preternatural abilities, he was feeling desperate. It was probably the only thing that would have made her cut him slack. Gabrielle crossed to him, then reached around him and across the table. “What are you doing?” he asked. The side of her cashmere clad breast grazed his nose and lips. Gabrielle barely contained her groan. “I want to show you something,” she answered. With the Witches’ Calendar firmly in hand, Gabrielle drew back and away from him, and focused on opening it to September and not the feel of Shep’s mouth and breath against the sensitive skin of her breast. Her entire body tingled from the contact. “The dates on which the murders occurred are circled.” Her voice was slightly breathless but she pushed through. “The first murder took place September 19th. Since this wasn’t a full or new moon, we didn’t really consider the moon. But,” she
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell pointed to the 16th, “this wasn’t only a full moon but a Harvest Moon...” “The first rune was the Harvest,” Shep said. Gabrielle nodded, relieved he was paying attention. “When the second and fourth murders occurred during fixed moon phases—the last quarter moon and the new moon—we knew we had our pattern.” “If you’re right…” “Unfortunately, I’m right.” She wished she wasn’t. Flipping to October, she said, “October 14th. That’s our drop‐dead date. The next full moon is a Hunter’s Moon. Also known as the Blood Moon.” Gabrielle’s face was grim. “The only nights during the year when lycanthropes are contagious?” Shep said. Gabrielle nodded. Shep stared hard at the calendar. He flipped between September and October. “Shit.” “I think Tabitha’s choice reaction was ‘Well, fuck the goddess’.” Gabrielle grinned at the memory. She couldn’t help it. The resolve and determination Gabrielle saw in Shep’s eyes when he finally looked at her made her glad they were on the same side and provided some much needed renewed belief that together they could stop this bastard. “It seems like we’ve got our work cut out for us then.” Shep stood up abruptly, forcing Gabrielle to step back or be flush against his chest. “I have to call this into the station. Get the task force guys working on the moon phase angle. They’re going to love it.” His mouth twitched. “I’ll tell them I’m consulting with a civilian expert on all things occult.”
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell
Chapter Four For the next several hours, Gabrielle and Shep worked tirelessly, shifting through evidence, going back over murder scenes, digging into history, and looking for any lore connected to the murder locations going back before New Amsterdam. They turned up nothing. Gabrielle’s computer was working through possible patterns and symbols created by the murder locations, but with so little data it would take hours. Once it finished, there might be thousands of possibilities to sift through, unless they could learn more. Gabrielle glanced up from a volume of ancient rituals some time after midnight. Shep faced one of the white boards, rearranging the runes into yet another order. Gabrielle watched his back muscles move under his t‐shirt, wondering how they’d feel beneath her hands. Clearing her throat, she said, “Let’s take a break.” Her eyes were scratchy, her brain fried. She reached up to massage the knot in her neck. “Let me help you.” Shep moved behind her. “Oh no, I’ve got it.” “You can return the favor.” He batted her hand away. Her head fell forward, and she tried to blame it on the prolonged exposure to him. It had obviously made her weak. His hands massaged her neck, moving to her shoulders and down her spine to the small of her back, and she murmured with pleasure. As his fingers lightly traced the pattern of her tattoo, Gabrielle felt the beginnings of desire uncoil deep in her stomach. The rational part of her brain screamed at her, reminding her
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell Shep didn’t like what she was, but the delicious feel of his long fingers, warm and slightly rough against her smooth skin and merciless in their exploration, overpowered the rational. She admitted she’d wanted to know what it would feel like to be in his arms for too long. Spent countless nights alone in her bed, imagining this. Afraid to shatter the moment with unneeded words, she reached behind her, placed her hands over his, and guided them around to her stomach then up to cup her breasts through her bra. As he dipped his thumbs into her bra, rubbing them against her hardened nipples, her surrender was complete. He ran his tongue up the back of her neck, and goose bumps rose wherever his breath touched. Gabrielle whimpered and bucked against the chair. In a swift motion, he lifted her up, placing her on the table facing him. He forced her legs apart with his own and stepped between them. He touched her lips gently with his, their tongues meeting as she opened to him. His hands roamed freely over her skin as he deepened the kiss. Gabrielle didn’t think she’d ever get enough of his taste. She wanted to protest when he drew back to remove her sweater, but she fell silent at the admiration in his eyes as he gazed at her in denim and black lace. Gabrielle wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him back toward her, yanking his t‐shirt over his head in one swift motion. She’d been looking for months; she wanted to finally feel the hard planes beneath her palms. She licked, sucked, and nipped lightly at one puckered nipple. Shep groaned, thrusting forward. Gabrielle moaned in response, moving her hand between them to rub it against the outline of his hard cock straining against his jeans. Shep’s head fell back. The sound he made reflected more pain than pleasure. Gabrielle giggled low in her throat, replacing her hand with her lower body. It was almost too much, yet still not enough. “Two can play, darling.” Shep yanked her bra down, pooling her breasts into his hands. Gabrielle unbuttoned her jeans and started unzipping his, but the moment his lips closed around one of her nipples, her hands ceased to function. His tongue felt warm and moist as it suckled her, and she felt her body’s answering response between her legs.
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell “Please,” she begged. Shep pulled off her jeans, running one finger down her center. She squirmed under his touch through her sheer black lace panties. Gabrielle grabbed at him. “Inside me,” she ordered. “Now.” As Shep pushed down his jeans down, Gabrielle hummed in appreciation and expectation as his penis jutted out and upward. She reached out and stroked its hard length before gripping it in her hand. Meeting his eyes, she pulled him toward her gently. He slipped off her panties, tossing them across the room. She opened her legs and guided him inside her. Her entire body quivered at his entrance. She contracted tightly around his length. When he finally began to move, she gripped his shoulders tightly. Shep held her hips tightly, moving her backward and forwards along his length, rubbing himself against the hard bud of her desire. She leaned back in abandonment, letting her nails dig into his shoulders. When Shep bent forward, taking one hard nipple in his mouth, she felt herself suddenly and gloriously let go. As her inner walls constricted around Shep in her own orgasm, Shep roared as his own orgasm took him. It was several minutes before Gabrielle was able to think clearly. Shep held her against him, and she was loathe to have him release her. “Now that that’s out of your systems, I may have learned something.” Tabitha said, materializing in the room. “Hell’s bells, Tabitha! How long have you been there?” Pushing Shep away, Gabrielle slipped off the table and rushed around the room, grabbing her discarded clothing. She glared at Shep, who unhurriedly reached down and pulled up his jeans. He made no move to grab his T‐shirt hanging precariously from one of the white boards. “I popped in while you two were um…needless to say, you didn’t notice me.” Tabitha grinned. Shep grinned back. Gabrielle finished adjusting her bra then yanked her sweater over her head with a huff. “You have news.” She tried to tame her hair with her fingers. She hated sex hair. “What? Oh right!” Tabitha walked over and perched on the end of
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell the table not far from Shep, her eyes continually returning to Shep’s chest. Gabrielle stomped over to his dangling shirt, yanked it down, and threw it at him. He took the hint and pulled it over his head. Tabitha and Shep didn’t bother to hide their amusement. Gabrielle ignored them. “The news?” Tabitha’s humor vanished. “I was trolling some of the more popular lycanthrope haunts in the West Village when I heard two men discussing the murders. I padded over and began rubbing myself against one of their legs. He picked me up and began petting me as they continued to talk. Apparently, Lycanthropes for Equality has been making noises about lycanthropes finally getting their due in the preternatural community.” Tabitha snorted and rolled her eyes. “I told you we should have shut them down.” “We can’t shut them down for no reason,” Gabrielle said. “I think we have our reason.” “Wait a minute,” Shep said. “Did the men say what they meant by finally getting their due?” Tabitha shrugged. “He didn’t seem to know. I got the impression he was repeating third or fourth hand information.” Shep rifled through the papers on the table. “What are you looking for?” Gabrielle asked. “The membership roster.” “We don’t have one.” His hands froze. He looked up, frowning at her. “Why not?” “Because they’re harmless. They aren’t advocating anything lycanthropes haven’t demanded for centuries.” Gabrielle didn’t try to hide her impatience. Everyone knew lycanthropes wanted representation on the council. Everyone also knew they weren’t going to get it. Lycanthropy was essentially a blood disease only contagious to humans. Unlike true‐shape shifters who retained their own consciousness when they shifted, a lycanthrope became the animal. They weren’t true preternatural beings. They held no true power of their own. “Harmless? You call five murders harmless?” Shep asked.
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell “We don’t know for sure they had anything to do with it.” “We don’t know for sure until we investigate,” Shep said. Gabrielle threw her hands up and pursed her lips. The cop was back. “Good luck with that. I’d wager three‐fourths of the lycanthropes in the five boroughs are members.” “It’s a place to start,” Shep replied. “She has a point,” Tabitha said. “Shouldn’t we be focusing on how these killings help their cause?” Shep growled low in his throat. “We have one damn day before he kills again.” Gabrielle stared at him silently. “No.” Shep’s rage was palpable. “I will not accept our best option is waiting for him to kill again. I can’t. If I have to shake down every individual even rumored to be a member of this damn group in the next 24 hours, that’s what I’m going to do, starting with the people at the top. Someone has to know something.” “All right.” Gabrielle might not be making the right choice, but letting another human die hoping it would provide them another clue didn’t really set well with her either. “I’ll provide the names of the top members. Tomorrow morning, you can do what you do.” She took a deep breath and turned to Tabitha. “Keep trolling. Maybe he’ll get cocky. He’s over the halfway point. He might think no one can stop him now.” Tabitha disappeared. “And you?” Shep asked. “I’ve got my own sources.” Gabrielle stared at the empty space where Tabitha had stood, feeling suddenly self‐conscious. Just remembering the passion between them on the table made her want it again. Geesh. Fearing what he’d see in her eyes, Gabrielle turned toward the table and fumbled around for pen and paper to write down the names she promised. When she turned back, Shep was looking at any place but at her. “Well, I should get going.” Shep shifted from foot to foot. “Need to get an early start tomorrow. “ “Of course.” She began twirling a strand of hair, stopped, and
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell clasped her hands in front of her. The list was still in her hand. She pushed it at him. “Here. I’ll walk you out.” Shep followed in silence. He wanted to grab her, convince her to spend the remaining hours until dawn letting him lick every inch of her body. He wouldn’t sleep. The wolf agreed. But he didn’t do it. Too soon, Gabrielle reached the door and undid the dead bolt, stepping aside so he could it pull open. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She looked past him, her lips still swollen from his kisses. He stuffed his hands inside his pockets. “I’ll, uh, call you if I learn anything. Otherwise, I’ll meet you back here.” “Sounds good.” Shep cleared his throat. “Gabby…” She held up her hand. “Let’s not do this now, okay?” She met his eyes, pleading with him to let it go. “Okay. Not now.” She smiled half‐heartedly. “See you tomorrow. Good luck.” He nodded once. “Tomorrow,” then forced himself to walk away from her. He didn’t look back but he didn’t hear the chimes signal the closing of the door until he was halfway down the block. He told himself that was a good sign. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t watch him fade into the darkness. Or maybe he’d just seen one too many romantic movies. He smiled wryly, wondering when it had started to matter whether or not she cared. Shit.
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Chapter Five Gabrielle closed the door firmly with both hands, reengaged the locks, turned and leaned against it, unsure her legs would carry her across the room. One taste and she wanted more. Hell, she wanted everything, and he was going to tell her the sex was a mistake. She wasn’t ready to hear it. “So…” Tabitha entered the store from upstairs. “How was it?” Gabrielle pushed away from the door. “You’re too much.” She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. “It was only a matter of time,” Tabitha said. “You knew this.” “I didn’t know any such thing.” Tabitha scoffed. “An attraction that strong.” She pointed at her. “That’s meant. You know it. He knows it. If I found someone with half that much chemistry, I’d pounce.” Tabitha quirked an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you tell him you were summoning Hecate?” Gabrielle glowered, walking past her to return to her chamber. “Quite the little eavesdropper today.” Tabitha followed. “A girl does what she must. You didn’t answer my question.” “He wants nothing to do with the preternatural. How do you think he’d react knowing I was summoning a goddess older than Zeus?” She glanced over her shoulder at Tabitha. “Impressed?” Tabitha grinned widely. “Very funny, but I doubt it. Besides, Hecate hates strangers. And a
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell wolf is one of her animals to command.” “Hmmmm. True.” Tabitha stopped at the threshold of Gabrielle’s doorway. “Want my help?” Gabrielle snapped her fingers, lighting the candles, then checked the time. A little after 1 a.m. “No. Troll the lycanthrope bars. Alcohol might loosen someone’s tongue.” “Call me if you need me.” Tabitha disappeared. “Will do,” Gabrielle whispered. Staring around her room, surrounded by her things and in her own space, she smelled him, feeling at once comforted and bereaved. As much as she wanted to linger in his scent, she needed to shower. His smell would lead to questions from Hecate she wasn’t ready to answer. She crossed the room to her dresser, pulled out a pair of red silk pajamas from the second drawer then entered the bathroom connected to her bedroom. While waiting for the water to warm, she stared at herself in the mirror. Funny. She didn’t look like she’d been thoroughly pleasured. She just looked tired. Stepping into the shower, she let the water break over her. She enjoyed lingering under the hot spray, but tonight washing her body recalled his touch in the same places, so she finished quickly, toweled off and slipped into her pajamas. She completed her normal ritual, lotion, toner, moisturizer, comb through her hair, before walking into the middle of her bedroom. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I beseech thee, Hecate, show yourself.” Gabrielle waited several moments. When Hecate didn’t appear, she lost patience. “Mother, show yourself or I swear I’ll send a bolt of electricity into your temple.” “I’m not your dog to command, young lady.” Gabrielle turned at the sound of her mother’s voice. Hecate lounged across the length of Gabrielle’s bed, her blue eyes shimmering in the candle light. Like every goddess, she was classically beautiful. Wearing a cobalt silk slip dress with her dark hair piled high atop her head, she appeared younger than Gabrielle’s own 32 years. Having a preternatural mother was a blessing and a curse. “This isn’t a social call, Mother.”
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell “If you ever called me just to be social, I’d probably fall out of my temple,” her mother snapped. Gabrielle dipped deeply into that ocean of patience she kept exclusively for her mother, asking for the second time that night, “Can we not do this now?” “You look tired. You aren’t sleeping.” “If you haven’t noticed, there’s a murdering lycanthrope holding the city hostage.” “Posh. You always were a bit dramatic.” Hecate rolled her eyes. “Do know anything about the killings, Mother?” Hecate sat up in the bed. “What do I get if I help you?” There was always a price. Gabrielle crossed her arms. “What do you want?” Hecate thought a minute. “To meet your wolf.” “Wha—he’s not my wolf.” “Cleanse the room next time, darling. That he’s a wolf only makes it easier for me to sense him.” Gabrielle would not squirm under her mother’s knowing look. “Mother, he doesn’t like—“ “I know what he likes and doesn’t like. He and his wolf like you.” For the moment, Gabrielle wanted to reply, but it was pointless to argue. “Promise not to use your powers on him?” “I do not.” Gabrielle ran a hand through her wet hair. “There’s nothing else you want?” Hecate hummed for a moment. “Nothing comes to mind.” Trailing one long manicured finger over the paisley pattern of the bedspread, she awaited Gabrielle’s answer. The picture of patience. Only because she knew she’d won. “Fine,” Gabrielle gritted her teeth, “I’ll see what I can do.” “Make it happen.” Said like the goddess she was. Gabrielle nodded stiffly. She didn’t know what she hated more, goddesses or cops. “Wonderful! Very well then, the moon is your key. It controls but is
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell also controlled. Remember your lessons. You’re a demi‐goddess. Think like a goddess.” “Do gods have to be so cryptic?” “Yes, something about free will or some such nonsense. I must go.” Hecate waved Gabrielle toward her. “Come, give your mother a kiss.” Gabrielle walked to the bed and placed a kiss on her mother’s cheek. Hecate sighed. “When you learn the answers, summon me. You’ll need my help. The world as we know it is up for grabs. Don’t disappoint your mother. Tell Tabitha I said hello.” She disappeared. Great. Just fabulous.
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Chapter Six Shep booted up his computer when he arrived home. While he waited, he prowled around his small one bedroom Brooklyn apartment, stripping down to his jeans. He needed a shower but unlike before, Gabrielle’s scent was oddly soothing, a reminder he wasn’t in this alone. He could almost imagine she was just in another room and not another borough. Shep pulled the list from his pocket and read through the names. James O’Connor, a real estate entrepreneur, was the only name he recognized. The man made his first billion in his mid‐twenties. Shep wondered when and how he’d become infected. Poor bastard. While he learned what he could about O’Connor online, he had the detective on‐duty run his name. O’Connor came back clean. Didn’t mean much. A man with that much money could have easily had his record washed. The press seemed to document his every move. Interviewing him without raising suspicion wouldn’t prove easy, not to mention it would probably piss the commissioner off, but he’d have to find a way. Shep ran a few other names on the list—a couple business owners, a college professor. None popped for him as murderers, but the professor specialized in ancient texts. He made a note to pay him a visit after O’Connor, then planted himself on his couch. With the murder scene photos spread out before him on the coffee table, he considered the power radiating from the pentacle. Very few, human or preternatural, didn’t want power. Shep thought about
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell O’Connor. When he spoke, people listened. When he moved, people followed. What did it do to him to not be in control three nights a month? To be seen as an abomination instead of worshiped? Shep pulled out the photos of the rune symbols. In the preternatural world, an individual’s power was in the blood. A lycanthrope didn’t control what was in his blood, the moon did. So how was he engendering so much power? They’d been assuming the ritual itself was responsible for the power. But what if it was the blood? Shep leaned back, gripping his hands in his hair. Preternaturals had been marrying humans for centuries. The council frowned upon it. Inter‐marriage diluted the line of power. But if the victims were distant descendants, their blood could still hold some power, however faint. If so, could the ritual be a way to co‐op that power? For what purpose? If the victims’ blood still held power, a record would exist. They were preternatural even if they weren’t aware of it. “Shit,” Shep whispered. It meant visiting his father. He hated traveling between planes, but his father didn’t live on the human plane. He and the elders and much of the preternatural community lived on a separate plane. This plane was too crowded for some. For others, like the trolls and goblins, who couldn’t blend and didn’t have the power of glamour to hide their true likeness, there was no choice. Confirming each victim was a preternatural descendant wouldn’t help him find the killer or even his next victim, a faint voice argued. It would still be like finding a tick on a Saint Bernard. But, another louder voice whispered, Gabrielle probably needed to know to create an effective counter‐ritual. Damn. He gritted his teeth. He hated using the bloodstone. But it was the only way to travel quickly between planes. Shep rose and stalked down the short hallway to his bedroom. Kneeling on the floor next to the bed, he reached underneath it, pulled out an oak chest, opened it and lifted the velvet bag holding the bloodstone. He’d only to think about his father to be taken to him. He debated for another second before dropping the stone into his palm and closing his hand. One second he was kneeling in his bedroom, the next he was
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell standing in the Great Hall of Records. He shook his head to stop the buzzing caused by plane jumping. The hall was frozen in ancient times. Wooden shelves, built centuries earlier by giants, stood a hundred feet high, extending as far as his eye could see. Long wooden tables were positioned throughout the room. Above the door leading in and out of the hall an inscription read: Wisdom comes with understanding yesterday, living in today and never thinking we know tomorrow. Of course his father would be waiting for him here. “My son.” His father’s deep voice enveloped him from behind. “So you came.” Shep smothered his knee‐jerk reaction. Having a seer as a father could be very aggravating. “I didn’t have much choice.” Shep turned to face him. It’d been too long since he’d visited. Still, his father was as he’d always been. Standing 6’3”, he wore the long blue council robe as if he’d been born to it. He had. His chin length brown hair carried more gray, but his light blue eyes were still flat and unreadable. “There’s always a choice, Sheppard.” Shep bristled against the studied patience in his father’s voice. “I didn’t come here for a philosophical debate, Father.” “I know why you’re here.” Shep growled. If he needed a reminder why he’d rejected his heritage, there it was. Raising both hands in surrender, his father’s expression was sheepish. “Forgive me.” Then his father said, “Sebastian, have you pulled each of the volumes I’ve asked for?” Shep looked around for the individual to whom his father was speaking, seeing no one. “Sebastian,” his father called again. “This is the last one, your grace.” Shep watched as the distant figure approached. As he moved closer, Shep realized Sebastian was a goblin. Less than three feet high, with a long nose and pointed ears, he carried a volume that was almost as large as he.
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell “Thank you, Sebastian. That will be all,” his father said. Sebastian bowed. “Very well, your grace.” Shep’s father waited until Sebastian disappeared from view to continue speaking. “Each victim descended from the preternatural. One more generational human marriage and the power would have disappeared completely.” Walking over to a table holding several leather bound volumes, he gestured Shep to follow. He opened the first volume. “Miriam Murphy, your first victim, her great‐great‐great grandmother was a leprechaun.” Closing it, he opened another one. “Your second victim, Roxanne Owen’s great‐great‐great‐great grandfather was a powerful fairy.” He closed that volume and opened another one. “Andrew Cunningham’s great‐great‐great grandfather was a shape shifter. A bear.” Leaving that volume open, he opened the remaining two volumes. “Michael Rosen’s many great’s grandfather was a half‐demon and Mary Smith’s many great’s grandmother was a very powerful witch.” “Why weren’t Gabrielle and Tabitha told?” Shep fought to contain his frustration. This changed the whole face of the killings. What possessed his father to keep this from them? He dreaded telling Gabby. No matter how far removed they were, she’d considered them her responsibility. A melancholy shadow fell over his father’s features. “I cannot interfere. I see only possible outcomes. To interfere can make matters worse. You know this.” Shep ran his hands through his hair. This was an old argument. One they didn’t have time to rehash. “What can you tell me, Father?” His father’s faced relaxed, and Shep realized he’d been braced for a fight. He felt a pang of guilt but pushed it aside. It would keep. “To bind the ritual, he needs true power. Untapped power. Hence, his victims. While the power ran through their veins, they never took ownership.” “Can you tell me anything else?” Shaking his head, his father said, “The future of the human plane hangs in the balance. The council has put its trust in you three.”
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell “Eight days. End of the world. Great.” He needed to speak with Gabrielle. Now. “I have to go.” His father grasped Shep’s hand. “Be well my son.” “I’ll try.” “You may want to change—” He closed his hand and vanished before his father finished speaking.
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Chapter Seven Shep ducked, barely missing the book Gabrielle threw at his head. “And here I thought you were past wishing violence on me,” he said. Gabrielle blinked. Her mouth opened, then closed without a sound. He felt her eyes sweep him from head to foot, wishing they were her hands. “Holy hell,” she murmured finally. Shep didn’t know what he appreciated more, rendering Gabrielle temporarily speechless or finding her in bed in red silk pajamas. He might need to rethink his stance on plane jumping. “The bloodstone brought me to you,” Shep said. “I can explain,” Gabrielle said at the same time. “Bloodstone,” Gabrielle whispered. “Explain what?” Shep said. “The book. Throwing the book. I didn’t know you’d be standing there. Obviously.” Gabrielle smiled weakly. Shep wouldn’t be worth the weight of his badge if he couldn’t spot a liar. And Gabrielle was a horrible liar. “Out with it, Gabby.” Gabrielle pulled the covers over her head. He thought she mumbled “Can’t you put some clothes on?” Shep glanced down at himself, forgetting he’d stripped down to his jeans when he got home. He shrugged. “Do I make you nervous?” He approached the bed slowly, enjoying himself immensely. Gabrielle pulled the covers down, glaring menacingly. Her intent
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell was overshadowed by the healthy blush of her skin. She was enchanting. “I’ve learned things since you left,” she said. “As have I. First, tell me what you’re hiding.” He schooled his expression to appear harmless. “I don’t bite.” “Ha!” Shep chuckled. “Not in this form anyway. Tell me. Then I promise we’ll get back to the business of the world ending in eight days.” “Fine.” She pulled the covers back over her head. “I thought I called you.” A sharp thrill shot through Shep’s body. He wanted to see her face when she said it. “Pardon? Your voice is all mumbled by the blanket.” Gabrielle snarled. Shep coughed to hide his laughter. In all their dealings, he’d never brought her to the point of snarling. His wolf liked it almost as much as he did. When she finally pulled the blankets down again, her hair was mussed as if she’d just been pleasured. Shep’s mouth went dry. “I thought I called you to me.” Shep climbed onto the bed. “How would you have done that?” He couldn’t breathe for wanting him. She licked her lips. “I was thinking about you. About what I needed to tell you.” She added quickly. “Of course.” He crawled toward her slowly, every bit the wolf intent on his prey. Gabrielle scooted back until the headboard was flush against her back. Shep fought for control as he moved up her body. “And then you appeared,” she finished. “That’s the only thing you were thinking about—what you had to tell me?” His lips hovered above hers. Gabrielle nodded jerkily. “You weren’t thinking about me touching you here?” He lightly caressed one nipple through her pajamas. Gabrielle inhaled sharply, closing her eyes and shaking her head, causing Shep’s cock to jerk in response. “Really?” Shep whispered. “That’s too bad. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this since I left you.” He kissed her gently, the barest
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell touch of lips, when what both he and the wolf wanted to do was devour her. Gabrielle’s eyes popped open, her voice tentative. “You’ve been thinking about that since you left?” Grabbing her hips, he pulled her down until she was lying flat. “You’re so damn lovely.” He traced his fingers gently over her face, along her neck. “From now on, you’re only allowed to wear cashmere, silk or lace, or nothing at all.” * * * * * Shep was slowly unbuttoning her pajama top when Tabitha popped in. “You were right, Gab—Oh bloody hell! I thought you went home,” Tabitha said to Shep. “I did.” Shep sat up, pulling Gabrielle with him, keeping her hand in his. “I came back. I have information.” “Do you want to do this here, or downstairs?” Tabitha said. Gabrielle, distracted by Shep playing with her hair, didn’t answer. “Gab?” “What? Oh, downstairs. I’ll, uh, we’ll meet you down there. Give me a minute.” Tabitha’s expression was stern. “One minute.” She looked from Gabrielle to Shep. “Keep your hands to yourself.” She pointed at Shep then disappeared. “Oh my goddess.” Gabrielle pulled her hand from Shep’s and slid off the bed. “What were we thinking?” What was she thinking? She rushed into the bathroom to flush cold water on her face. When she glanced up and into the mirror, Shep was standing behind her. “We were thinking that we should take our pleasure where we can,” he said, putting his arms around her, pulling her tight against his bare chest. “Or at least I was.” Gabrielle leaned back and closed her eyes against the warmth she
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell saw in his. She couldn’t let herself hope. When this was over, he’d return to the human world he’d chosen, and he’d remember he didn’t like what she was. Turning away, she tried to leave the bathroom, only to find herself back in his arms, but facing him. “We have to go.” Gabrielle avoided his eyes. “Tabby will lose patience. It’s not a pretty sight.” Shep lifted her chin until she was looking into his eyes. “I want to tell you this first.” He bent his head, touching his lips to hers in a series of heart‐wrenchingly slow kisses, then whispered, “Let’s shut this thing down so we can get back to what we were doing before we were so rudely interrupted.” He left her standing in the bathroom, staring in dumbfounded surprise at his back. “Don’t forget my place,” he called back.
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Chapter Eight Tabitha was sitting cross‐legged on the table in the back room as Shep, followed quickly by Gabrielle, walked in. “Who wants to go first?” Tabitha materialized a t‐shirt, handed it to him. “Not that I don’t like the view. I’d just like her undivided attention more.” “I’ll start.” Shep took the t‐shirt, pulled it on over his head and walked to the victim white board, taking them through his thought process and conversation with his father. Picking up the red marker, he wrote each victim’s preternatural ancestor next to their picture. “The ritual requires an innate untapped power to bind it. I assume that’s important for the counter‐ritual.” As he spoke, Gabrielle crossed to stand next to him. “How did we not consider this?” Shep stepped behind her, rubbing her shoulders. “We couldn’t have known.” Gabrielle turned to him. “But we should have. The killer did.” “Someone is feeding him information.” And Shep realized he knew who. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Closing his hand over the bloodstone, he disappeared and returned several minutes later, holding Sebastian by the collar of his shirt. He squirmed in his grip. “Try anything Sebastian and my wolf isn’t going to like it. Are we clear?” The goblin glared up at him over his long nose but stopped
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell moving. “Gabrielle, Tabitha, meet Sebastian, the sneaky bastard supplying the killer with names of preternaturals. He works in the Great Hall of Records.” Shep plopped Sebastian down into one of the chairs. Before he asked, Tabitha produced plasticuffs. Shep bound his wrists to the sides of the chair. “He just happened to be packing for a long trip when I popped in on him.” Tabitha hopped off the table to stand next to Gabrielle. “How did you—” Gabrielle began. “My father,” Shep said. He’d thank him for not helping later. Shep stepped back when he was sure Sebastian was secure. “Don’t bother to try to dematerialize, those cuffs are magically reinforced,” Tabitha said. “Tell us what you know, Sebastian,” Shep demanded. “You’re too late,” Sebastian said. “He has everything he needs.” Shep leaned down until he was nose to nose with him. “Who?” His wolf wanted out. Not yet, he told it. Sebastian cackled. “Anything you can do, he’ll do worse.” Shep stepped back, afraid he’d throw the chair across the room with Sebastian in it. “How could you betray your own kind?” Gabrielle’s voice was ripe with disgust. Sebastian spit. “They were less than half‐breeds. They reeked of human.” Shep tried another approach. “Don’t bother with him, Gabby. I plan to pay James O’Connor a visit in a few hours. I’ll mention how helpful Sebastian was to our investigation.” Sebastian’s eyes widened briefly before going flat. Shep felt a flare of satisfaction. “We want the remaining names you gave O’Connor, Sebastian,” Gabrielle said. “What do I get in return?” he asked. “What did he promise you?” Gabrielle countered. He paused before answering. Debating, no doubt. “He promised
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell we could reclaim our place on the human plane. Live as we did centuries ago, before the stinking humans overran the world.” “You disgust me,” Gabrielle said. “You’ll get nothing from me,” he sneered. Tabitha spoke. “I think we’re going about this all wrong guys.” She circled his chair, gazing down at him. “What do goblins fear?” Gabrielle and Shep both stared blankly at her. Tabitha grinned widely. “Cats.” Sebastian stiffened. Tabitha ran one finger across his shoulders, leaned down, and whispered in his ear. Sebastian paled and began to sweat. Shep could only imagine what tortures Tabitha was threatening. The tale about cats stealing babies’ breath originated from a tale goblins told their children. If a goblin child was bad, a cat would visit them in the night and steal their breath as punishment. “Fine. All right. I’ll give you the names I remember,” he stuttered. “And tell us everything you know,” Tabitha prompted. “I don’t know why he’s killing them. I swear.” Shep believed him. The names were all they’d get from Sebastian. O’Connor was too smart. He’d have known Sebastian was a weak link. Gabrielle wrote down the nine remaining names Sebastian remembered. Then Shep delivered him into the hands of the council, returning to call the names into the station. For the first time in weeks, Shep felt the dark enclosing him begin to recede. * * * * * “O’Connor’s definitely our guy then?” Gabrielle asked once Shep was off the phone. Shep nodded. “Getting to him is going to be a problem. Arresting him. Obviously that’s not an option.” He took a long drink of the coffee Gabrielle handed to him. “Maybe we can draw him out.” Shep stared at her over the cup’s rim. “How?”
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell “Tabitha and I think we’ve figured out his end game.” “What? When?” Gabrielle took a deep breath, hoping Shep’s newfound acceptance of magic extended to goddesses and well, daughters of goddesses. She cleared her throat. “After speaking with Hecate tonight….” “The triple goddess? She’s your source?” Gabrielle avoided his eyes. Shep whistled. “Aren’t we connected.” “You could say that.” She smiled deprecatingly. “Anyway, she said two things. The first, the moon controls but is also controlled. The second, think like a goddess.” Walking over to the gods and goddesses white board, Gabrielle circled Diana. “Goddess of the Moon,” Shep said. Gabrielle felt his eyes follow her. “But I still wasn’t convinced it was her. Blood sacrifices to goddesses were typically animals. More often people offered jewels, crops, even live livestock. Not other people.” “But if we assume the victims were killed for their power and not as offerings, like my father said, Diana’s our girl?“ Shep didn’t wait for an answer. “And the second part, thinking like a goddess?” Gabrielle gnawed lightly on her bottom lip. “That threw me at first, but then I thought about my mot—uh—Hecate. She’s vain. She wants to be worshipped. Goddesses who are forgotten become weak. The more people who worship them, the stronger they become.” “Power again. The members of Lycanthrope for Equality led by O’Connor, we can assume, are among her new worshippers?” Shep said. “That was my guess, so I called Tabitha.” Tabitha took over the narrative. “We needed to know how they were worshiping her. There isn’t a temple to the Goddess Diana in New York City. We’d know about it. It’d need to open to the moonlight not to mention consecrated by a priestess. Then I recalled this.” Tabitha picked up a marker and drew a simple bow and arrow on the white board. “One of Diana’s symbols,” Shep stated. “A tattoo,” Tabitha said. “The man who bragged about lycanthropes finally getting their due had this tattoo on the inside of his
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell wrist.” Tabitha felt the place on her own wrist. “I’ve seen others with the same tattoo, in the same place. I just didn’t know what it meant until now. Several tattoo parlors told me bow and arrow tattoos have increased over the past three weeks. They’re establishing their allegiance to Diana using the tattoo.” Gabrielle smiled grimly. “During the Blood Moon, O’Connor and his followers are going to try to infest enough humans to take over the human plane.” Shep set his coffee on the table. “Excuse me?” “It makes sense, especially given what he promised Sebastian,” Tabitha said. “It will create millions who will worship Diana,” Gabrielle added. Tabitha was right. It made sense, but it didn’t mean it didn’t blow her mind. “Exactly.” Tabitha circled Partnership on the board. “I assume the rune meaning ‘Self’ stands for lycanthropes. But how does the most recent rune play into all of this?” Shep began to pace. Gabrielle waited a beat before answering. “Diana’s going to stop the moon from setting. Three days and three nights of a Hunter’s Moon. Even the most controlled lycanthropes won’t be able to resist the blood lust for that length of time. The ones who take drugs to control the change won’t realize they’ve worn off before it’s too late. Most won’t even know what’s happening. They’ll be unwitting accomplices.” “O’Connor thinks he can overpower the council if they take over the human plane.” Shep said. “They’re more likely to erase the human plane and all of the lycanthropes with it,” Tabitha said. “Good riddance I say.” “Well, I certainly don’t. No humans. No worshippers. No power.” They turned at the new voice in the room. Gabrielle swore. Hecate stood before them, hands on hips, in jeans, a sapphire blue sweater and sneakers, her hair pulled back in a pony tail. “Isn’t that just like a daughter? Never happy to see her mother.” Hecate stared at Tabitha. “I’m disappointed in you, Tabitha.” Tabitha smirked. “It was only a thought, Mother Goddess. You’re
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell looking as lovely as ever.” Tabitha bowed. Hecate beamed. Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “Mother?” Shep looked at Gabrielle. Gabrielle nodded. “You’re a demi‐goddess?” “Can we talk about this later?” Avoidance was becoming second nature. “Mother, you said to call.” “I was bored.” Hecate glided forward. Knowing her destination, Gabrielle stepped in her path. Hecate adeptly side‐stepped her. “It’s only been a few hours.” Gabrielle gritted her teeth. Hecate glanced over her shoulder. “Is that all? Oh well, I was so relieved you figured it out. Thank the goddess.” She clapped her hands together. “Oh wait! That’s me.” She grinned. Tabitha chuckled. “Tab,” Gabrielle said. “Don’t encourage her.” “That’s right, Tabitha. Be more like my daughter, always raining during my sunshine.” Hecate stopped in front of Shep. Gabrielle held her breath. “I’ve been wanting to meet you. And now, here you are.” “You’ve wanted to meet me?” Each word was more tentative than the last. He unconsciously pointed at himself. “Now is not the time, Mother,” Gabrielle tried. Hecate raised one finger, stopping any further interruptions. “You agreed I could meet him. I choose when. I say now.” Gabrielle tried to telegraph her apologies to Shep, but he wasn’t looking at her. “I make a point of meeting any man who shares my daughter’s bed.” Gabrielle wanted to run and hide. Her mother trailed one long finger down his chest. “Hmmmmm. Your wolf doesn’t like the thought of other men. I like that. He’s also not easily controlled, even by me. I like that even more.” Her sapphire eyes narrowed. “And what about the man?” Shep very gently lifted her hand away from his chest. “Are you asking me my intentions?”
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell Gabrielle should have spoken up, but goddess help her, and low and behold she was, she wanted to hear his answer. “I think I may be falling in love with her, probably since the moment I met her. And that frightened the crap out of me.” “Frightened. Past tense?” Gabrielle whispered, too scared to hope. Was it possible he could change so easily? “I meant what I said earlier. I want you, not just in my bed, but in my life. And I want to be in your life. All of it.” Gabrielle rubbed the back of her arm across her watery eyes. Her legs felt wobbly as butterflies danced in her stomach. “Me too. I want that too.” “Right answer. Feeding you to a sea serpent would have been such a waste.” Hecate turned back to Gabrielle. “Is she serious?” Shep asked. “Probably.” Gabrielle grinned. “Now, as Shep so aptly put it earlier, let’s shut this thing down,” her mother said. “Mother, were you eavesdropping?” Gabrielle groaned. “Just a peek. You’re my daughter. Believe it or not, I do care.” “How exactly are we going to shut it down?” Shep asked. “We’re going to draw down the sun,” Gabrielle said, the answer suddenly so obvious. “Hot damn!” Tabitha said. “Forgive me. I’m not up on my magic terminology. What does that mean exactly?” Hecate answered. “We’re going to summon Apollo and let him know what his sister has been up to.” “And if he doesn’t care?” “Oh, he’ll care.” Hecate said. “Let’s just say that misogyny is alive and well on Olympus.” Gabrielle gathered her thoughts before speaking, unconsciously gnawing on her bottom lip. “We’re going to need a full coven. Thirteen witches. And it has to be at high noon.” Gabrielle turned to Shep, her mind three steps ahead of her voice. “Shep, we need an outside space,
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell preferably in Central Park. We’ll need privacy. Can you make that happen?” Shep nodded. “Tabitha, we need the 11 most powerful witches we know. Call them, fill them in, ask them to meet us at the location in Central Park Shep picks.” “Sure, boss.” Tabitha disappeared. “I believe you have everything under control for now.” Hecate blew her daughter a kiss. “I’ll meet you in the clearing when it’s time.” She disappeared, leaving Gabrielle was alone with Shep—again. “You should try to get a few hours sleep,” she told him. Shep approached slowly. He brought her hands to his lips. “Is that what you’re going to do? Sleep?” His lips felt soft against her skin, his breath warm. It was a moment before Gabrielle realized he’d asked her a question. She refused to let him distract her now. But soon. Soon he could distract her all he wanted. “I have to write the summoning chant, see if Tabitha needs any help, but then, yes, sleep.” Shep opened her arms and moved between them, lacing her hands behind his neck. Holding her face in his hands, he kissed her gently. “I meant what I said.” He stroked her hair. “Your timing sucks,” Gabrielle said. But her heart thrilled at his words. He smiled. “I’m going upstairs. Crawl into bed with me when you’re done. We both need to sleep for a few hours. I want to hold you against me.” Gabrielle didn’t believe he had any intention of “sleeping” but she conceded. Like there was any doubt.
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Chapter Nine Some twenty minutes before the sun reached its highest point, Gabrielle waited nervously in the middle of the Sheep’s Meadow. Shep rested at her feet as a grey wolf, watchful even though he’d assured her they wouldn’t be bothered. The meadow had been closed after several tourists saw a wolf running wild. Gabrielle smirked. Being preternatural definitely had its perks. Animal control would take at least an hour to mobilize. By then, hopefully they’d be done. If needed, Shep would send them on a merry chase well away from their site. As an extra precaution, once everyone arrived, Gabrielle decided she’d cast a confusion spell. Anyone approaching the area thereafter would think they were lost and turnaround. “Here we go,” she whispered as the witches began to emerge over the hill. Shep licked her hand. “I know. Stop worrying. What could go wrong, right?” She rubbed him behind the ears. “This has to work.” Planting on a bright smile, she waved as the women approached. To an outsider, they would seem like an odd bunch, in all shapes and sizes, ranging in age from early 20’s to well over 90, dressed in power suits, jeans, flowing skirts, and even sweats. Gabrielle felt downright plain dressed in a black sweater that ended mid‐thigh, black leggings and black ballerina flats. But they all had one thing in common—unrivaled power among their kind. She just hoped that with the help of her mother it would be enough to summon a god to whom none of them had any ties.
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell The knot in her gut loosened slightly when she saw Tabitha approach—bringing up the rear. She glanced at her watch. Ten minutes. “Where are you, Mother?” she muttered through clenched teeth. Shep whined. “She’ll be here,” Gabrielle said, more to reassure herself than him. Throwing her mind outward, she whispered the confusion spell, then called out, “All right everyone, please gather around.” She met the familiar eyes of each woman, seeing varying degrees of excitement and fear. She hoped the worry she felt wasn’t reflected in her own. After quickly giving everyone their instructions, they formed a circle. “Whatever you do, once Apollo appears, don’t break the circle.” Gabrielle looked around for Shep. He’d retreated to a group of trees, keeping watch in case anyone got past the confusion spell. Tabitha placed white candles at each of the four corners, invoking the elements. Once she took her place next to Gabrielle, Gabrielle took a step back and began casting the circle. “In this place on this day, this circle we cast, Calling spirits present and past, Herewith we consecrate this ground, Within this circle our powers are bound.” Gabrielle repeated the chant three times, then retook her place next to Tabitha. Her mother finally appeared, dressed in full goddess regalia. She nodded for Gabrielle to proceed. “Let’s begin,” Gabrielle whispered. The thirteen women clasped hands. As Gabrielle started the summoning chant, she felt her mother add her power to theirs. “We call on the God of the Sun, We beseech him, he is the only one, O glorious keeper of the day, We seek an audience without delay
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell Only you can save the human race We beseech you, hear our case.” Not Pulitzer‐worthy poetry, but Gabrielle hoped it would do the job. The coven repeated the chant twice. Before they’d completed the third cycle, there was a flash of burning light. Once it subsided, all 6’5” of Apollo stood glaring at her mother in the middle of the circle. He wore sandals and the white Olympian robe and, if not for his golden tan, she would have laid odds he was chiseled out of stone. No wonder virgins went to him as willing consorts. Gabrielle must have made a sound, because his green eyes shifted from her mother to her. “Well,” he said, his voice a deep baritone. “What was so important?” He tossed a haughty look at her mother. “This is your doing, no doubt.” Before her mother could speak, Gabrielle launched into the explanation she’d rehearsed over and over again. She didn’t know how long their power could keep him here before he became bored. Her mother and Apollo could have their “Who’s more powerful?” argument on Olympus. To give him credit, Apollo didn’t dismiss her. He also didn’t interrupt, even though his anger obviously grew with each new piece of evidence Gabrielle presented against his sister. By the time Gabrielle finished speaking, she was drenched in sweat. His anger was rolling off him like solar flares, literally. “Conniving little bitch. In what universe does she think she has any hope of preventing the day from coming? The sun is more powerful than the moon.” “So, you’ll help us?” Gabrielle asked. Apollo peered down his nose at her, his face a mask of disdain. “I don’t care what happens to the humans, but I will help you. Diana forgets her place. She has been left to her own devices for far too long.” “And the power rift?” her mother asked. “Will be taken care of before the sun sets.” Apollo disappeared in
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell another blinding flash of light. “He always did know how to make an entrance and an exit.” Her mother chuckled. The group released a collective sigh. Gabrielle uncast the circle. “In this place on this day, this circle is now uncast, Giving thanks to spirits present and past, Herewith into the ground, We release any powers still bound.” The women looked at each other, as astonished as Gabrielle it actually worked. “Don’t see that every day,” one said. “Who needs a drink?” another asked. “You do know how to keep things interesting,” another proclaimed. The group dispersed quickly, murmuring “Blessed Be” and promising to pop by the shop. Gabrielle watched Tabitha gather the candles, feeling somewhat dazed. “Nothing like sibling rivalry mixed with a healthy dose of ego,” her mother said. Shep strode toward them, back in human form. He changed into the jeans and worn blue t‐shirt he’d hidden in the bushes. “Well?” Gabrielle nodded. “It’s done. By sundown, the power rift will be healed.”
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Chapter Ten Gabrielle and Tabitha opened Hecate’s Wheel in the afternoon. Tabitha offered to watch the counter, while Gabrielle dismantled the war room. She needed something mindless to occupy her hands. Her thoughts were consumed with Shep’s impending confrontation with James O’Connor. They didn’t know where O’Connor was in the city, but Shep was confident the wolf could track him under the cover of dark if needed. Gabrielle still couldn’t quite believe or trust his complete attitude change about himself and his heritage but it seemed that since he decided to stop fighting who he was, he’d chosen to embrace it. If they had any chance at a future together, she knew she had to trust his feelings were permanent and she wouldn’t wake‐up one morning to find he’d reverted back to the “old” Shep. She glanced at her watch. 6:00 p.m. Full sundown was at 6:30 p.m. She could already feel the adjustment in power. Gabrielle checked her phone. No new messages. He hadn’t updated her since letting her know he was heading to O’Connor’s main headquarters. That was over an hour ago. She thought fleetingly of her scrying glass upstairs. She could know where he was and what he was doing in an instant. Gabrielle picked up the nearest object, a pen, and threw it across the room. Lights flickered. She hated this—the worrying. She told herself Shep was highly trained. He could handle himself. Besides, it was several days before the full moon. James O’Connor was still just a man.
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell “Gab,” Tabitha called from the other room. “He’ll be fine.” “I know he’ll be fine,” she muttered, making herself pick a pile of papers and start sorting through them. “If he’s not fine, James O’Connor will die in a freak lightning accident.” It was amazing how many lightning strikes occurred in New York City. One more would go unquestioned. Gabrielle faintly registered the bells on the door. The loud crashing which followed had her dropping the papers and racing into the shop. She saw Tabitha’s body, partially blocked by the wall lying limp on the floor. “Tabitha!” Gabrielle rushed toward her. “That’s far enough.” Gabrielle didn’t understand the voice. Her only thought was getting to Tabitha. She began to call for her mother. “I said that’s far enough, Ms. Hearn.” Gabrielle stopped a few steps from Tabitha, staring down at her. Her eyes were closed. She appeared unconscious, but still breathing. There was so much blood. Gabrielle looked away, blocking the cry welling up in her throat. Taking a series of deep breaths, she forced her gaze up at the stranger. James O’Connor. He looked exactly like his photos. Minus the gun and silencer. He had the look of the black Irish. His features would almost be called swarthy if he wasn’t so fair. Cold fury radiated from his eyes. Gabrielle gauged her chances of disarming him. He wasn’t much taller than she, but he had considerable more body mass. Oh, and the gun. “It’s over, O’Connor.” Gabrielle focused on keeping her breathing steady and her voice from betraying the fear crawling like ants across her skin. “It didn’t work.” “Hands where I can see them, Ms. Hearn.” Gabrielle raised her hands, her eyes darting between Tabitha and the gun. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “Move or make even a peep and you’re dead, like your friend here. Do we understand each other?” He raised one dark eyebrow. Gabrielle figured he planned to kill her either way but she nodded. Electricity played with the ends of her hair. She could send it at him, but
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell not before he fired. She couldn’t help Tabitha if she was dead. O’Connor took several steps backwards until he met the shop door. He shoved each lock into place without averting his eyes from her. “Back up slowly into the store room, please, Ms. Hearn. No need for a scene.” Gabrielle backed‐up. “You and the other witch bitch will pay for screwing with my well‐laid plans. Sending two of its guardians in pieces should deliver the right message to the all‐powerful council. Don’t you think?” Terror clouded Gabrielle’s mind before she could push it away. He was insane. She couldn’t speak, so she couldn’t cast a spell. She couldn’t move her arms so she couldn’t use any of her other powers. It was times like this when she wished Hollywood had it right. What she wouldn’t give in that moment to be able to wield her powers by wrinkling her nose or blinking her eyes. She felt the back of her knees hit a chair. “Sit down.” Gabrielle sat. He took several seconds to acquaint himself with his surroundings. His gaze returned again and again to the victim white board. “They didn’t deserve the power they possessed,” he snapped finally. Gabrielle started to respond, quickly remembered his threat, and remained silent. She tried not to think about Tabitha. It wouldn’t do either of them any good. She closed her eyes. She didn’t realize she was crying until the tears started to wet her leggings. She called to Shep with her mind. He had to hear her. She heard the “woosh” then felt a gunshot graze her cheek. Her eyes popped open. “Eyes open and keep them on me.” He slapped her. “Your powers won’t help you.” Gabrielle’s head jerked back from the force of the slap. She shook her head to stop the ringing. Her arms were beginning to ache. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold them up. * * * * *
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell It had taken Shep all afternoon to find O’Connor, only to lose him shortly before sundown. Shep wanted to find him, wanted this over so he could go back to Gabrielle. This bastard had consumed enough of his time. He gave his senses over to the wolf, letting his body follow mindlessly, turning when the wolf demanded, but not actually paying attention to where the wolf was taking him. He still had no fucking clue how he was going to close the case and satisfy the public, the NYPD, and the council. Without warning, his wolf released a piercing sound in his head. Shep looked up to find himself standing in front of Hecate’s Wheel. No. No. The bastard had not gotten to Gabrielle. Shep tried the door. The deadbolts were solid. He looked through the window. Tabitha lay on the floor. Fuck. No. He didn’t see Gabrielle. His gaze returned to Tabitha. Her eyes flickered open, met his. She motioned with one finger toward the back room. Shep mouthed, “Hold On.” Tabitha nodded faintly. O’Connor needed to die. If he still had any doubt, it had just evaporated. His wolf could already taste O’Connor’s blood. Shep stalked around the side of the building. He pulled himself up the iron ladder of the fire escape to the second landing, three stories above. He tried the window. Locked. Shit. He debated the distance between the window and the backroom. He had to chance he was high enough above the bottom floor that O’Connor couldn’t hear the shatter of glass over the noises of the street. He took off his jacket, wrapped it around his elbow then smashed in the window. Pushing himself through, he stepped into Gabrielle’s room, managing to avoid the glass on the floor. What now? If a shifted to his wolf, he could approach virtually unheard. And O’Connor wouldn’t be expecting the wolf. He doubted he’d be expecting anyone, but definitely not the wolf. “So be it.” Shep palmed his gun, reluctantly placed it on the bed, closed his eyes, and shifted. After taking a second to get his bearings, he padded out of Gabrielle’s room and down the stairs like a ghost. He raised his nose and sniffed the air, making sure O’Connor was alone.
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell “No one’s coming to your rescue, witch,” O’Connor taunted. Shep hurried softly toward Tabitha, sparing only the briefest of glances between the rooms. O’Connor’s back was to the entrance. Arrogant, maniacal bastard. Gabrielle only had eyes for the gun. Her fear shook the air. For that alone, O’Connor would have paid with his blood. For shooting Tabitha, he had forfeited his life. He licked Tabitha’s hand, feeling her pulse. Faint but there, confirming what his ears told him. She moaned softly. He touched his wet nose to her cheek. Hold on, he told her again. Hold on. There was a loud slap. Gabrielle yelped in pain, and Shep lost what little hold he had on his rational self. He was forced to take a moment to regain his control before giving his mind more completely to the wolf, letting its baser instincts lead him. Hunkering low to the floor, he inched his way under the beads in the doorway, then covered the length of the hallway between the shop and the backroom noiselessly. Gabrielle’s eyes widened. Her face was red and puffy from where O’Connor had slapped and blood trickled slowly from a cut on her face. A rushing filled his ears and rage clouded his vision before the wolf’s bloodlust overpowered all other feelings. “I will rule both planes,” O’Connor said. Shep would have laughed if human. The wolf crouched low and growled, announcing his presence instead. O’Connor turned and Shep glimpsed the madness in his eyes. “So the wolf cop has come to join us,” O’Connor said. “I had other plans for you. I planned to go head to head with you on the first night of the Blood Moon. I’m a wolf too, you know. Who do you think would have won?” Shep growled again. He had no patience for a madman’s rantings, and the wolf had no desire to play with its prey. He just wanted to kill it. Pushing himself off the floor, he launched himself at the hand holding the gun. Gabrielle swept her leg hard across O’Connor’s at the same time, throwing him off balance. O’Connor fired as he fell to the floor. It went wide and hit the wall behind Shep. Gabrielle grabbed the gun. Shep’s teeth held O’Connor’s throat. He could feel his pulse. Unlike Tabby’s, it
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell raced and he wanted to rip it from his throat. He looked at Gabrielle for permission. She shook her head. “We’d never be able to explain it.” O’Connor tried to speak. Shep’s teeth clenched tighter. Gabrielle looked at the gun in her hand. It felt cold and heavy. As much satisfaction as she would get out of knowing he was spending the remainder of his days in an 8 x 10 cell, he couldn’t go to prison. Not as a lycanthrope. But he also couldn’t just disappear. The public needed closure. Her eyes found the photos of the victims. All those lives, just taken, because one man wanted yet more power. He deserved no more thought than he gave them. Taking a deep breath, she aimed and pulled the trigger. The gun barely made a sound. Taking a man’s life should have made a bigger sound, she thought absently. Watching his blood pool on her floor, she should have been repulsed by what she had just done. But she wasn’t. She felt only relief before Shep’s hand grasped hers and slowly took the gun from her. She hadn’t noticed he’d shifted back. When she looked into his eyes, she saw justice. Justice for the five victims and justice for Tabby. He hugged her tightly against his bare chest, saying nothing when she started to cry. “Tabby?” she whispered. “We need to call 9‐1‐1. She’s lost a lot of blood, but she’s going to be fine. She’s got nine lives, remember.” Gabrielle’s laugh was strained. “Let’s hope so.”
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Epilogue Two days later, life returned to some semblance of normalcy. Or what Gabrielle believed would become her new normalcy, as she lay blissfully in Shep’s arms. Tabitha would soon be released from the hospital to recuperate at home and then all would truly be right in Gabrielle’s world. They’d told the police the “almost” truth. Given the circumstances, the NYPD wasn’t going to scrutinize the details. Shep picked up the college professor and the ancient text used to conduct the ritual before he heard about O’Connor’s death and skipped town. He delivered both the professor and the book to the council tied together in a big red bow. He still hadn’t stopped chuckling. They hadn’t been amused, but the council wasn’t known for its sense of humor. Shep also surprised everyone, including Gabrielle, by handing in his badge, deciding he wanted to open a Private Investigator’s office. He could help both human and preternatural without the rules. It just so happened there was an empty office space next to Gabrielle’s shop. Gabrielle could get use to this, she decided. Shep ran his hand along her hair and down her back. “Did you remember my place?” Shep whispered. Gabrielle laughed. “You may have to jog my memory.” The End
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Blood on the Moon by Kelly O’Donnell
Author Bio Kelly O’Donnell has a Masters Degree in Medieval Studies from the University of York, England. She currently lives in New York City.
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