Blue Moon (4 page)

“Over my dead body,” Adam growled.

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Lana stood, crossing to Adam.

I shook my head. “We can protect Adam and our Pack. Now that we know Damian’s
unique
scent, he’ll never get close again.”

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “He may have something else in mind.”

Adam pulled his wife into his arms and met my eyes over her head. “Tail him. See if you can find out what he’s planning.”

I nodded. Luke followed me to the door.

“Be careful.”

“Always.” We turned and headed out into the darkness.

…

“Do you think he seriously believed Adam would take him into our Pack?” Luke adjusted the binoculars.

We’d followed Damian up the mountain to his fortress at Lake Tahoe. I stared at his place from across the street. “I don’t know what to think. I still don’t understand how he’s walking and talking. He shouldn’t have survived that fire.”

Luke glanced my way. “It was snowing. When he fell down the mountain, maybe he hit a drift. It could’ve snuffed out the fire. It’s been six months, and he has money for the best doctors.”

“Maybe.” The new security fence made seeing into the cabin compound impossible, but a light blazed in a third story window.

Luke kept the binoculars trained on the house. “Do you think it’s true Nero turned him away now that he’s got some wolf DNA floating around inside of him?”

I shrugged. “His egomaniacal father can’t be happy about the turn of events, but I’m kind of surprised he let him leave. Wouldn’t all the scientists at Nero be chomping at the bit to run tests and study him? Plus, months have passed since that fight on the mountain. He’s had six full moons. Has he been shifting into a wolf? He still smells like a jaguar, too. What if he’s shifting twice a month?”

Luke turned his head to meet my eyes. “Wouldn’t it kill him? Can a body handle that much mutating in a month?”

“I don’t know. But he had to be desperate to come to us. And a desperate animal is a dangerous one.”

“Speaking of danger…” Luke pointed to the lit window. “There he is.”

“Bingo.” I pulled out my phone and texted Adam we had confirmation of Damian in the Lake Tahoe cabin.

Luke set the binoculars on the seat. “You can’t let Vivi get caught up in this.”

“I know.” I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “But she doesn’t trust me. She’s not going to drop the story because I ask her to.”

“Then you’d better work on fixing that, and protect her.”

“Yeah. There’s a shit storm brewing on the horizon, and I need to keep her out of it.”

Chapter Six

Vivianna

When the “Nero Organization” turned up a bunch of dead ends, I switched tactics. Damian Severino. Google still had nothing to report about him. How could this big-time businessman, a government defense contractor, not have any digital footprint? No Facebook, no LinkedIn, no Twitter—and stranger still, not a mention in a single news article or blog.

I flopped back in my chair and took a long, slow sip of my iced tea. There had to be an angle I was missing. Grabbing his card, I flipped it end over end while my thoughts spun through possibilities.

Severino. I dropped the card in my lap, my fingertips flying on my keyboard. A pasta company, a doctor, a truck line… I kept skimming, clicking through page after page of search results until I hit an obituary. Sylvia Severino from Virginia. I snatched up the copies of real estate paperwork Madison had brought me from Goldstone Properties.

Flipping through the documents, I stopped on a FedEx slip for his title deed paperwork. Damian listed a Virginia address. Interesting.

I clicked on the obit. Chills started in my toes, rising up my legs. Sylvia was the right age. She could’ve been Damian’s mother. I read further. No mention of Nero, but she had been the principal of a private boarding school for girls. Brightwood Academy.

Another search and I had their website. My excitement faded as I skimmed through their pages. The school was in New York, not Virginia, and it looked like any educational website. No top secret corporations or link to Damian Severino.

I’d scrolled the mouse over to the upper right corner to close the screen when a quote at the bottom of the page caught my eye.

“Hidden talent counts for nothing. – Emperor Nero
”

“That can’t be a coincidence,” I mumbled to myself.

There had to be a connection. Sylvia Severino had the right last name, and she worked at this school with a motto from Nero. It was the best lead I had. I clicked every available link I could find on the website, jotting notes until I found it. On a page about funding, in the middle of their fine printed list of donors…The Nero Organization.

“Jackpot.” I grinned and scribbled a note on my pad.

Why would a government defense contractor be donating to a boarding school for girls? And how did the dead principal fit into the puzzle with Damian Severino?

I didn’t know yet, but I was going to find out.

Opening my email, I crafted a simple ice breaker.

Hello Mr. Severino –

We met at the Goldstone Properties Masquerade. I’ve been working on a new story about the future of boarding schools in America, and noticed the Nero Organization is a donor for a school in New York.

If you’ve got time, I’d love to ask you a few questions about your company’s involvement.

Thanks for your time.

Vivianna Lopez

I hit send and hoped for the best.

…

I checked my email on my phone while I poured milk in my cereal. Nothing. Well shit. I sent the email yesterday evening. It was probably too soon for Damian to respond. At least the message hadn’t bounced back. There was still a chance he’d get it.

Whether or not he’d answer my questions was another story completely.

Madison came in as I munched my cereal. Her blond hair was pulled back in a French braid, and her dark gray linen suit fit her perfectly. I glanced at my stretched out T-shirt and sweat pants and sighed. A writer’s business attire was far from glamorous.

She grabbed a breakfast bar and grinned. “So…you got to interview
the
Logan Reynolds yesterday. How’d it go?”

“Catastrophic.” I stared into my peanut butter crunch, pushing the little balls into the milk. “We kissed.”

“What?” She came over and sat beside me. “You weren’t busy working on finding Nero dirt last night, you were holding out.” She nudged my elbow. “Spill.”

I lifted my head, hoping my expression wasn’t too sheepish. “We stopped and started the interview a couple of times, and for some unknown reason he kept dredging up the past until I let him have it…and then he kissed me.”

“Holy crap.” She took a bite of her protein bar and shook her head. “You sucked face with
the
Logan Reynolds.”

I rolled my eyes. “I used to do more than that with him.”

Madison checked the clock and crumpled the wrapper in her hand. “I’ve got a few more minutes. Tell me everything. Was it gentle, passionate…was there tongue?”

I laughed, kicking her under the table. “There was some tongue, and it definitely wasn’t gentle.”

“As good as you remember?” She raised a brow.

I groaned. “I don’t know. This was different.”

“Okay.” She got up and dropped her wrapper in the trash can. “The million-dollar question…did you kiss him back?”

I crossed my arms, my smile fading away. “Not on purpose.” She raised a brow, and I rolled my eyes. “He surprised me, that’s all.”

“Oh my God, you
did
kiss him back.” Madison sat down, her expression sobering. “All jokes aside, Vivi…don’t let him reel you back in. You’re supposed to be over him, moving on with your life.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know. I told him how shitty he’d been to me. I said I hated him.”

My words hung in the void. She took my hand, squeezing it. “You have to care about someone in order to hate them. Be really careful. Love and hate aren’t as far apart as you think.”

Madison hid behind her blond hair and bubbly smile, but inside, she was one of the wisest people I knew.

“It doesn’t matter now. I’ll never see him again. I found a lead on the company Damian Severino works for. I’m chasing it down. I’ll tell
Rolling Stone
that I got to meet with him.” I shrugged. “It’s more than anyone else has gotten so far. I could mention he was evasive and quiet. With his reputation for being reclusive, they won’t be surprised.”

“What if that’s not enough? I thought covering music was your passion.”

“Music is my passion, but investigative journalism has always been my dream. And if I can chase down this story, it could be a big step in that direction.”

She smiled and stood. “I’m behind you one hundred percent.” She grabbed her purse. “Keep me posted on the story, and maybe we can get a drink after work.”

“Sounds great. Thanks, Madison.”

She closed the door, the confident clicking of her shoes on the cement fading and leaving me surrounded by silence. I finished my cereal and rinsed the bowl. As I headed for my computer, a voice interrupted me. A voice and a guitar.

Best friends,

Never alone.

Best friends,

Not on your own.

I knew the words. I helped write them a lifetime ago. But they couldn’t be coming from just outside the house.

I peered out the kitchen window, frowning. Logan. He was wearing a plain blue T-shirt, camouflage cargo pants with his just-past-his shoulders length hair tied back. Did he always have to look so amazing?

Finally my brain engaged. How did he figure out where I lived?

Luke.

A car slowed on the street. It turned around and pulled over. Logan didn’t even acknowledge it. His focus was all on me.

Friends forever,

Like thunder and lightning,

Like wind and like rain.

Wherever you go

Just call me I’ll come,

Did he honestly think he could sing me a song we wrote together and I’d forgive him? I grumbled. Outside, one of the neighbors stood in her driveway. Heat rose in my cheeks. He was causing a scene. If I had changed out of my “writer attire” I could’ve run out and chased him away, but cell phone cameras were already out there. The last thing I needed was to end up on the gossip sites as Logan’s frumpy mystery lady.

And if you stumble, if you fall,

I’ll be here to carry you home.

I groaned and went to the door, cracking it open. “Are you nuts?”

He stopped strumming his guitar and shrugged. “Probably.”

Another car pulled over.

“Go home, Logan,” I snapped.

He finally broke eye contact, scanning the cars, and then smiled back at me. “I’m blocked in.”

Oh shit. He was. I sighed, “Fine. Get in here before we’re both on TMZ.”

Logan hustled inside without looking back. I closed the door and turned the deadbolt. He was already lifting the guitar over his head and laying it on the kitchen table.

“Don’t get comfortable. Once those people lose interest, you’re leaving.”

He pulled out a chair, turned it around, and straddled it. “Did you recognize the song?”

I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest and trying not to think about my lack of makeup and my frumpy writer-wear. “Course I did. I helped write it.”

“I changed up the chords at the bridge a little. Did you like it?”

“No.” But something in my lame heart fluttered at the thought he still remembered the goofy song we wrote together. I mashed down the unwanted feelings. “Did you really come over here to get my input on a song we wrote in junior high?”

He rested his chiseled forearms on the back of the chair. “No, I just hoped it would get me in the door.”

“Mission accomplished.” I went over to the sink to put my dishes in the dishwasher. It was easier to keep my distance if I didn’t have to look at him. “Why are you here?”

“I want you to come to the lake with me.”

I spun around, baffled. “Why? I already told you how I feel. I’m not interested in giving you any more of my time.”

He got up, coming a little closer. His voice softened, low and husky. “So let me give
you
some of
mine
.”

My chest hurt. Between the sappy song and that deep growly whisper that reminded me of being naked in his arms, my body was betraying me. Heat blossomed in my belly, and my pulse thrummed. I struggled to control the situation and narrowed my eyes. “You can have anyone. Go harass someone else.”

He chuckled, and instead of backing off, his crooked smile appeared, shaking my will. “Anna, no one else is
you
.”

I shook my head, backing up a step until my butt hit the cabinet behind me. “I can’t do this again. Sorry.”

He came a little closer. “This month is a blue moon.”

“And that matters because…” I’d forgotten he ran hot. His body heat radiated right through my shirt, coaxing me, tempting me to touch him. His blue eyes pinned me in place.

He took my hand. I should’ve jerked it away, but I didn’t move. “They only happen every few years, but it’s a second full moon in one month. Like a second chance.”

For a moment I stopped breathing. My pulse raced. I took a step back, my hand slipping free from his. “For years, I dreamed you’d show up at my door. You’d explain what happened and beg for a second chance. And now you’re here…” I shook my head, turning toward the sink again to break the spell. “And I have to say no.”

He came up next to me, but I didn’t let myself turn. “I’m not asking you to forgive me or take me back. I don’t deserve any of that.” He held his hand out. “Just hoping a friend might hike with me at the lake.”

I stared at his hand and swallowed the desire he kindled inside. “And anything you tell me will be on the record.”

He started to smile. “Always the journalist.”

I risked a glance. “We aren’t friends anymore.”

“Okay, be a reporter.” He sighed, lowering his hand. “I have nothing to hide.”

Logan always was a horrible liar.

…

He waited in the kitchen while I got dressed and put my hair up. By the time I came out, the spectators had lost interest. I slid my phone in my pocket.

“I’m ready.”

Logan held up his guitar. “Can I stash this someplace?”

“Sure.” I took it from him and propped it against my dresser in my bedroom.

“Okay, I guess we’re set.”

He opened the door, and I went out, locking it behind us and wondering what the hell was going on. I needed to keep my head. In the small space of his truck, there was no escaping his clean musky scent. Every breath lured me back into the past, when the handsome guy behind the wheel was mine. I was screwed.

I opted for staring out the window.

“Thanks for not leaving me to the wolves earlier. Sometimes I forget people recognize me.”

“When you play a guitar and sing you sort of stand out.”

“Well, I appreciate you letting me in today.”

I shrugged. “Didn’t want my address to be all over Facebook in a ‘Logan Reynolds video sighting.’”

“Jesus, do they seriously call it that?”

I looked over at him before I could stop myself. “You honestly don’t know about it? How is that possible?”

“Levi runs our Facebook page. I stay away from all that.”

“Wow. You really are reclusive like they say.”

He shook his head. “Nah, but I don’t buy into the celebrity thing. I’m the same guy I’ve always been, and I don’t want social media or fan clubs or anything else to change that. Once you drink the I’m-such-a-big-deal Kool-Aid, it’s too easy to lose yourself.”