FALL OF A BLOOD MOON (RISE OF THE ARKANSAS WEREWOLVES Book 7) Read online

  Fall of a Blood Moon

  RISE OF THE ARKANSAS WEREWOLVES

  Book 7

  Jodi Vaughn

  FALL OF A BLOOD MOON

  Copyright © 2017 Jodi Vaughn

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN: 978-1-946591-05-0

  Table of Contents

  FALL OF A BLOOD MOON

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Excerpt from RISE OF THE ARKANSAS WEREWOLVES, BOOK 8

  About the Author

  Other Books by Jodi Vaughn

  Prologue

  “I promise to love you until I take my last breath.” Jaxon Taylor looked down into the soft blue eyes of the love of his life and soon to be mate, Ginny Wilson. His heart seemed to expand in his chest with the love he felt.

  “You better, Jaxon Taylor.” She smiled, her beautiful lips curving upward. The gentle spring breeze ruffled her brilliant blonde hair, sending an errant strand across her cheek. He reached down and tucked the silky tress behind her ear.

  He gripped her slender hips, took a step forward and pressed her back against the trunk of the old oak tree in the middle of the pasture. The green grass and rolling hills were decorated with yellow wildflowers, making it one of their favorite places to be alone. Here, they could lock out the world. Here, only they existed.

  He nuzzled her neck and inhaled her intoxicating scent. When he pulled back, she was looking at him with that smile that always made his heart trip.

  God, she was beautiful. More beautiful than he deserved.

  While other guys his age were enrolling in college or planning a summer vacation to the beach, he was jumping to marry the only female he would ever love.

  But then again, he wasn’t just any male. He was a werewolf. And when a werewolf met his mate, nothing would tear them apart.

  “What if I die before you?” She looked up at him and cocked her head. A slight smirk played on the corners of her full lips, lips that he was dying to have on his body. “Will you mate with someone else?”

  “Not a chance. I will die when you die.” He spoke with certainty and without flinching. His heart ached at the thought of being apart from her. He couldn’t bring himself to imagine a life without Ginny.

  “We’re only eighteen. We’ve got years and years to think about that. First we have to make it down the aisle.” Jaxon cradled her tight against his chest. He rested his chin on the top of her head.

  She fit him.

  She always had.

  She always would.

  In a few short hours, they would be married according to human law and mated in werewolf law.

  “We could just leave now. Run away and mate and forget about the wedding,” she suggested.

  He wanted her like never before. He’d held off for months and had never pushed the issue of making love. As much as he wanted her, he wanted their first sexual encounter to be once they were mated and married, never to be torn apart.

  “You’ve got too many human friends, and they’ll think you’re just shacking up with me.” He smiled. As much as he wanted to mate with her right then, he wouldn’t do it. He wanted their relationship to be different from any other. He wanted theirs to last through eternity.

  “Getting tired of all those cold showers you’ve been taking?” She trailed her finger down his chest and arched her perfect brow.

  “You have no idea.” His smirk slid off his face, and he narrowed his eyes a little. A flicker of worry gnawed at his gut. It was the same worry he’d felt when he’d woken up this morning. “You’re not trying to weasel out of getting married, are you?”

  Her smirk grew into a breathtaking grin. “Not at all. After this afternoon, Jaxon, you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

  “That’s exactly what I want to hear.” He bent his head and covered her lips with his. He slid his hands around her waist and pulled her tight against his chest. He could feel the thrum of her heart beating against his chest in sync with the rhythm of his own.

  She moaned and opened her mouth. He deepened the kiss. He touched his tongue to hers, tasting her sweetness.

  His heart thudded in his chest, and his breathing changed to a pant. His body ached. He didn’t know how he was going to keep from taking her right now up against the tree.

  He pulled away, took a deep breath, and shook his head. “Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”

  “Don’t say that, Jaxon.” She covered his lips with the tips of her fingers. Fear flashed through her blue eyes.

  “It’s just a saying. I don’t actually mean it.” He snorted.

  She shook her head. “You know how superstitious my grandmother is. If she’d heard you right now, she would have crossed herself and thrown salt over her shoulder.”

  “Come on, Ginny. You know I don’t believe in that hocus-pocus bullshit.” He tilted her chin with his fingertips. “I believe we make our own destiny and our own future. My future is with you.”

  Her expression relaxed, and she finally gave him a smile.

  “You’re right.” She glanced down at the watch on her wrist and sucked in a hiss. “I’ve got to go. I’ve still got to get my hair and makeup done before the wedding.”

  “You don’t need to do any of that. You look beautiful right now.”

  She laughed and pressed her hand against his chest and stepped away. “Jaxon, I want to be perfect for you. I want the first day of the rest of our life to be perfect.” She giggled as she ran toward her grandmother’s car.

  He grinned like an idiot as he watched her climb into her grandmother’s old beat-up, gold Buick. She gave him one last wave before she pulled out onto the dirt road.

  Today was the first day of the rest of their life together.

  He liked the sound of that. He liked the sound of that a whole lot.

  He didn’t realize then that today would be filled with unimaginable pain and he would lose his heart forever.

  Chapter One

  “You sure she’ll be here?” Jaxon narrowed his eyes at the large bartender standing behind the bar, who also happened to be a werewolf named Gary. Jaxon
placed his hands on the sticky counter and leaned forward. The bartender’s fear was overwhelming. “If I drove my ass all the way down here on a hunch, someone is going to get their ass handed to them. You feel me?”

  “Easy, man. I told you she’s been coming in all week. So far she hasn’t missed a day.” Gary frowned and wiped down the bar with a dark cloth. He put the bar towel aside and grabbed another longneck beer out of the cooler. He popped the top and shoved the beer at Jaxon. “I wouldn’t give Barrett bad intel. That would be like signing my own death warrant.”

  “I’ll give her a few more minutes, and then I’m leaving.” Jaxon grabbed the beer off the counter and glared at the bartender. He pushed off the bar and headed to a small table near the rickety old jukebox. He flipped the wooden chair around, straddled it, and faced the door.

  He studied the crowd, a mix of humans and werewolves in the Treetop Bar and Grill. The familiar scent of warm beer, stale cigarettes, and desperation filled the room. The jukebox wailed an eighties song while a few guys played pool in a dark corner. Older men sat huddled in the corner of the bar, talking about sports and women while nursing their beers before heading home for dinner.

  There was a time he couldn’t get enough of this place. He remembered hot summer nights playing pool and drinking beer and wishing the morning would never come. Back when he was younger and dumber and knew nothing about the true heart of a female.

  He’d learned soon enough that a woman’s heart was cruel and selfish, and that he’d been foolish enough to believe that love really existed.

  It was a hard lesson to learn: the power a female could hold over a male when she had his heart in her hand.

  He grabbed his beer and took a deep drink. His gaze landed on the familiar initials carved into the scarred table and froze.

  Anger, hatred and bitterness swelled in his heart like ocean waves filling a hole at the beach.

  J.T. loves G.W.

  “Fuck.” He stood so fast his chair fell over and smacked onto the wooden floor. The patrons barely gave him a glance before turning their attention back to their drinks.

  “I heard that hot Pack Master is looking for me,” the sultry, feminine voice whispered near his ear.

  He slapped on a grin to hide the seriousness that was brewing in his head.

  “Hello, Ella.” Jaxon turned. “Or should I say, Witch?”

  She narrowed her pretty green eyes at him for a fraction of a second and then glanced around the room. She was wearing a short black leather skirt, a skintight white shirt, and boots with come fuck-me heels. Her makeup was heavily applied, and her lipstick looked almost black.

  “Keep your voice down,” she scolded. “There are some humans in here, you know.”

  “I doubt anyone can hear us over all that noise.” He cut his eyes at the jukebox, which was playing a song by Abba, and then looked back at her dark lipstick. He hadn’t known the witch was into the Goth look.

  “It’s not noise. It’s my favorite song.” She narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin.

  “You have no taste in music.” He cringed. He knew all about the Witch of Yazoo City’s preference in music from his fellow Guardian werewolf, Lucien.

  “Really? I bet all you listen to is that metal stuff that makes your head hurt.” She crossed her arms, forcing her breasts to strain over the top of her tight shirt.

  “I’m not here to talk about music. I’m here to take you back to Mississippi.” He took a drink of his beer without breaking his gaze from hers.

  She shook her head and smirked. “I’m not going anywhere, Wolf.”

  “Now see, that’s where we have a difference of opinion.” Jaxon shoved one hand in his pocket and pointed his beer at her. “Tell me something. The curse should have brought you back to the cemetery, but it’s been months now and you are still free. How’d that happen?”

  Lucien had been sent to Ella to discover who was behind the torture of Arkansas Guardians, who were the protectors and defenders of the werewolf population. Ella had given them information but had escaped from her cursed prison in the cemetery when she stabbed Lucien’s female, Catty. Only a blood exchange would allow Ella to break the curse, and it was only temporary.

  “I need blood. I have to have someone’s blood every week to keep the curse from pulling me back into that fucking graveyard.” Her emerald-green eyes flashed in anger.

  “You may be hot, but you’re one crazy bitch.” His snarled, and the hair on the back of his neck stood at attention.

  She leaned into his personal space and trailed a finger down his chest. “Aww, you think I’m hot.” She arched her eyebrow. “I have the hots for your Pack Master, Barrett, but I don’t think he’ll mind me scratching my itch with you.” She gave him a wink. “What do you say? Wanna give it a go?”

  “I’m not here for a roll in the sack, Witch. I’m here to bring you back to Mississippi.”

  “So are the Arkansas Guardians bringing me in?” A look of surprise crossed her face. “Shouldn’t it be the Mississippi Guardians?”

  “Barrett wanted his men to bring you in since you escaped on our watch,” Jaxon said. He knew Barrett wanted to handle this himself to keep the relationship between the state of Arkansas and the state of Mississippi on good terms. Things were volatile with the Louisiana Pack, and Barrett knew it was smart to stack up his allies in case shit went sideways.

  “How noble.” She studied her long pink nails and looked unimpressed. “I wonder if all that nobility falls to the side when Barrett’s in bed. Bet he gets real nasty when he’s horny.” Her lips curled up into a wicked smile.

  “Is sex all you think about?” She was beautiful. But she was also dangerous as fuck. A psychopath in heels.

  “Don’t try to talk to me about virtue, Jaxon Taylor. I’ve heard all about your reputation.” She propped her hand on her hip and grinned. “Makes me wonder how hard you’re gonna fall when you find the right female.” She leaned in and placed her hand on his lower stomach.

  He grabbed her hand. “Let me guess, you think you’re the right girl.”

  “I’m the right-now girl. Not the right girl.” She leaned in and smirked. “There’s a difference.”

  The fact that he had a reputation wasn’t news to him. The fact that even the Witch of Yazoo City knew about him made him uneasy. Still, it was better to be a man whore than to get his heart broken again.

  He’d been down the road of heartache and heartbreak and had no fucking desire to make that trip again. He cut his eyes around the room.

  This place brought back too many memories, too much pain to make him feel at ease. It was a place he’d sworn he’d never visit again. But when he’d gotten the intel that Ella was hanging at the dive, he’d had no choice but to go. He was here to get her and take her back to Mississippi before she could do any more harm.

  * * *

  Ginny McGregor sat in her Mercedes and tightened her grip on the wheel. Damn her husband, John, for making her come here to pass off some information about the Arkansas Guardians.

  She knew he was testing her, testing her loyalty to him and the Louisiana Pack.

  He had nothing to fear. Since her father had forced her to wed John seven years ago, she’d done nothing to give her husband a reason to doubt her. Her faithfulness to him wasn’t born out of some undying love for him. No, she was faithful to him to make sure the one male she had loved would never be hurt.

  Jaxon Taylor.

  Once, she’d been full of hope and love and eternal optimism. That had all died the day her father killed her grandmother and forced her back to Louisiana.

  The day of her wedding, her life had changed forever.

  Now her life consisted of doing what was expected, not getting angry, and sure as hell not having a voice. Those were the things that kept her alive.

  “Get over it, Ginny. It’s not like you’re going to know anyone here.” She grabbed the large envelope and her purse off the passenger seat and opened the car door. The Arkansas humidity
slapped her in the face like a wet mop. If she weren’t a Southern female, it would have been miserable. She’d long since acclimated to the weather and, in some respects, embraced it.

  She headed toward the building, walking on her toes so her expensive heels wouldn’t sink in the dirt. Despite her confident stride, her gaze was constantly searching the parking lot for anything out of the ordinary, anything suspicious.

  It was still light, so only a few Harley Davidsons and a couple of pickup trucks sat in the grassy parking area out front. The bar was in the middle of nowhere. The nearest town was twenty miles away. The place used to be a hangout for underage teens, but it had lost its appeal when the law cracked down. Now it mainly catered to bitter old men and bikers looking to get drunk fast.

  She quickened her footsteps and wished she could have worn something more casual, like jeans and a T-shirt, instead of the white pants and matching blouse she had on. Her feet ached from the high heels, and she couldn’t wait to change into the ballerina-style flats she kept in her car. If it had been up to her, she would have worn something casual and comfortable.

  But her life wasn’t her own. It belonged to John, her husband, her mate… her owner.

  John dictated everything about how she looked from her clothes and hairstyle—even the color she painted her nails. He insisted she look like the wife of the future Pack Master of Louisiana and not some common housewife.