Blood Moon (9 page)

I jolted awake, sweat on my brow and the
images of my dream already beginning to fade as the burn in my
shoulder grew hotter. Not everything from my dream was forgotten,
though; I still remembered the wolf lunging for me, and it stirred
up memories of the night before. Some of the events were hazy, at
best—which was probably thanks, in large part, to the pain
medication I had taken—but I remembered David and me arriving at
Chaparral Park, the woman, the wolf…

Pain pulsed in my shoulder again, spreading
the fire further down my arm as I recalled the strong jaws of the
wild animal sinking into my flesh, burying so deep they grazed the
bone before I kicked it off of me and shots were fired. The trip to
the ER and everything after that was a little fuzzy, but I could
recall bits and pieces of it.

When the pain was too much to ignore, I
carefully pushed myself up on the bed, being sure to move slowly so
I didn’t pull any stitches or disturb David, who still slept
soundly behind me. Walking on my tiptoes, I walked down the hall to
my bathroom so I could attempt to look at my shoulder to rule out
an infection. The medical tape was difficult to peel back without
tugging a little on my wound, but I managed to release the top
strip and pull the bandage down to inspect it. The reddened area
around the stitches was slightly swollen, and even the gentlest
touch sent white-hot pain shooting down my arm and torso.

“That looks awful,” David said from the
doorway, startling me.

I had been so focused on my shoulder that I
didn’t see him appear in the reflection of the mirror. He stepped
into the bathroom in nothing more than his flannel pants, but
before he could get a closer look, I quickly pulled the bandage
back up and turned to face him. “It’s fine.” He arched a brow,
silently calling my bluff, and I rolled my eyes while pulling the
bandage away again. “Okay, it’ll
be
fine,” I amended.

His fingers were cold against my feverish
skin, and I tried not to recoil from his touch when another stab of
pain moved down my arm quickly, making my fingers tingle and seize.
“We should try to clean it, but if it doesn’t look any better by
the end of the day, I want to take you back to the hospital.”

While I understood his concern, I really
thought he was worrying over nothing. “David, I was attacked by a
wild dog less than thirteen hours ago,” I reminded him with a smile
I hoped wasn’t coming across as forced as it felt. “We have to give
it time to heal.”

“But—”

Shaking my head, I refused to let him
finish. “Look, if it’s still bothering me or looks
worse
than this, then I’ll go to the hospital without a fight.” This
appeased him for the moment, so I continued. “But other than a
little pain, I’m fine. I promise.” He nodded but still didn’t seem
convinced. “Look, it probably just needs to be cleaned. Why don’t
you go put a pot of coffee on, and I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Do you need a hand with the back of your
shoulder?”

I considered his offer for a second before
deciding I couldn’t risk letting him know it hurt more than I was
letting on. “I don’t think so, but if I change my mind, I’ll come
get you, okay?”

Seeming somewhat uncertain if he should take
me at my word, David remained in the bathroom for a moment before
conceding and heading to the kitchen. After closing the bathroom
door, I removed both bandages entirely and set to work cleaning my
shoulder. Turning the faucet on, I waited until the water ran warm,
and then I soaked a washcloth and gently cleaned the area around my
stitches. The pain in some areas was almost blinding, and I had to
bite my bottom lip to keep from whimpering too loudly and alarming
David.

With my wound clean, I applied a new bandage
to the front of my shoulder, but had trouble with the back, so I
opened the door and called for David. In a flash, he was at my
side, a fresh cup of coffee in his hand for me.

“What’s up?”

I took a small sip of the rich brew, smiling
when I tasted the copious amounts of sugar he’d added, and then set
the cup down on the vanity. “I can’t get the bandage on the back.
Would you mind giving me a hand?”

Smiling, he slowly turned me around and
reached for the pre-taped patch of gauze. “Not at all, sweetheart.”
Once the bandage was in place, he leaned forward and pressed a soft
kiss to the unmarred skin of my neck, sending a shiver of desire
through me. “There you go.”

With my shoulder all patched up, I finished
getting ready for work. Once my hair and teeth were brushed, I
picked up my coffee and headed to my bedroom to find something to
wear.

The minute I pulled on a button-up blouse,
the constricting fabric rubbed against my bandages and exacerbated
the throb in my shoulder. I took the blouse off, trading it for a
sage green ribbed tank top that wouldn’t tug on my bandages; it
wasn’t the most professional attire for a detective, but I was
pretty sure the captain wouldn’t mind under the circumstances.

“What are you doing?” David asked from the
door of my closet as I fastened my belt.

Turning around, I arched an eyebrow. “Um,
getting ready for work?”

“Brooke, you were attacked last night and
wound up in the ER.” He paused, stepping closer to me and looking a
little nervous. “Don’t you think you should stay home and
rest?”

Shaking my head, I pulled on a pair of jeans
and buttoned them up. “Can’t,” I replied. “Not with this new case.”
My shoulder throbbed again, and something in the back of my mind
nagged at me. I wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but I knew it had
to do with this case, and I
craved
answers. David looked
like he was about to call my father so they could devise a way to
keep me from the office, so I decided to just be honest about why I
couldn’t stay home. “It’s just…there’s something about this case
that’s not right, and I don’t think I’ll be able to think about
anything else, anyway.”

Thankfully, David empathized with this,
knowing that he would have reacted the same way if something didn’t
sit right with him, and he nodded. “Then I guess I’ll go start
breakfast while you finish up in here,” he said, kissing me softly
and exiting the room.

As soon as I was dressed, I grabbed my gun
and badge from atop my dresser and affixed them to my belt before
slipping on the silver crucifix that Bobby gave me on our
eighteenth birthday. The pendant rested against my sternum, and a
warm and tingly sensation spread beneath my skin, but I passed it
off as nothing more than some kind of transference from my
shoulder.

Breakfast smelled amazing as I made my way
toward the kitchen, and I found David standing in front of the
stove, cooking French toast—my favorite. Sliding my hand down the
muscular length of his back, I pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder
and wound my good arm around his waist. “Smells yummy.”

Chuckling softly, he turned his head and
kissed my temple while I scratched an itch on my chest. “Thanks.
You mind watching it while I go get ready?”

“Not at all,” I agreed, taking the spatula
from him.

David wasn’t gone long, returning with the
glass of water from my nightstand and my two prescriptions. He
dumped the water and refilled the glass before handing it and the
pill bottles to me. “Here, you should take these before we go.”

“Thanks.” I took the bottles and collected
one of each pill in my palm, swallowing them both with a gulp of
cold water from the glass. When I set the glass back on the
counter, I caught David staring at me quizzically, his eyes on my
chest. I was about to chastise him for being a pervert when his
eyebrows pulled together and he lifted my pendant.

Cool air hit my skin, offering me instant
relief from that incessant itch, and when I looked down, I saw the
source of David’s concern: a three- to four-inch red and splotchy
rash surrounding a dark red cross shape on my chest.

“Huh,” I said, touching my hand to the rash
gently. It tingled and was warm to the touch. “I’ve never had this
happen with this necklace before. Must be an allergy.” I removed
the necklace, taking it back to my room. My palm tickled as I held
it, and I put it back in my jewelry box before heading back to the
kitchen to find breakfast already on the table.

As expected, breakfast was delicious, and I
ate quickly—almost ravenously. It was unlike me, but I was
absolutely famished. So hungry, in fact, that I inhaled four
pieces, shocking even David.

Somewhat embarrassed by this, I offered
David an apologetic smile. “I guess skipping dinner last night was
a bad idea,” I joked.

He laughed, and I was instantly relieved.
“Clearly.” Eyeing my empty plate, he nodded toward the stove. “Do
you want me to make more? We have a bit of time.”

Feeling sated for the moment, my belly full
and content, I shook my head. “No thanks. I think I’ll be okay
until lunch.”

Working together, we cleaned the kitchen,
and then David grabbed the keys to my car and helped me into my
other leather jacket. It felt off to me, but only because I didn’t
wear it as often as I did the other, so it wasn’t as worn in and
soft. Since the other was shredded, though, this one would have to
do.

When we walked into the precinct, all eyes
were on us, and it was clear they’d all heard about what happened
in Chaparral last night. I assured everyone that I was fine as we
made our way to our desks, and I slipped my jacket off and hung it
on the back of my chair to give my shoulder a little more air and
mobility. The painkillers had kicked in, so it felt a lot better,
which would make it much easier to concentrate on our case.

“So, you guys have finally come out of the
closet, huh?” O’Malley’s voice carried as he flopped down in
David’s chair and slapped a folder down on the desk across from me.
“It’s about damn time.”

My eyes scanned the office to see several
others were watching and smiling, their expressions proof enough
that David and I had done a horrible job hiding our relationship
all this time. “How long has everybody known?”

“Please,” O’Malley scoffed. “You work with a
bunch of detectives…investigating is what we
do
.”

“No,” I said with a laugh, circling around
my desk toward O’Malley. “Investigating is what
we
do.” I
pointed at everyone in the room
but
him, teasing. “I still
haven’t quite figured out what it is
you
do, Patrick.”

Howling with laughter, O’Malley stood. “Good
to see your little injury hasn’t affected your natural charm,
Brooke,” he teased, patting my good arm firmly before heading back
to his own desk.

David picked up the file O’Malley left and
leafed through it. I naturally assumed it had the coroner’s report
for last night’s victim, and just as I rounded the desk to take a
look, a loud voice cut through the room.

“What are you doing here?” my dad demanded.
He stopped next to my desk, concern etched into every line in his
forehead and around his eyes. “You should be at home.” He turned to
David. “She should be at home.”

“I’m fine, sir,” I assured him.

He looked around the office again, and
everyone who had dropped what they were doing to watch us quickly
returned to work. “You have a habit of saying that…even when it’s
not entirely true.”

He wasn’t wrong, and I could plainly see
that his worry was that of a parent whose only living child was
hurt while working a case. While I was alive, and would probably
have several sizable scars to show for it, I knew this could have
turned out so much worse.

Before David could tell him that his own
attempt to keep me home was futile, I spoke, keeping my tone soft
and apologetic. “I know, but I couldn’t stay home. I would have
driven myself crazy thinking about this case. If I start to feel
off, I’ll go home, okay?”

Nodding, Dad agreed to my terms. “Fine.”
Turning to David, he pointed a finger at him, his eyes narrowing
sternly. “Samuels, I’m trusting you to keep a close eye on
her.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll make sure she’s not
overdoing it.”

After Dad retreated into his office, I
perched myself on the edge of David’s desk and looked down at the
file in his lap, arching an eyebrow inquiringly. “Whatcha got
there?”

David looked down at the manila folder and
exhaled loudly, raking his fingers through his short hair. “The
coroner’s report for our vic,” he informed me, holding the file
out.

“Cause of death?” I asked, opening the
folder and quickly reviewing the crime scene photos and what little
information the coroner’s office reported. I read through the
report and found the answer to my question before David could
reply.

Either he missed the distress on my face as
I read the word over and over again, or he said it in hopes of
pulling me out of my stupor. “Exsanguination.” His tone was solemn,
and even though I already knew this, my stomach churned when I
heard it out loud.

Slowly, my eyes rose from the file, meeting
his. It wasn’t hard to see how worried he was about how I might
handle this, and he had every right to be; I’d only ever heard of a
few other cases like this, and they were so long ago that only a
few select cops would even remember them this vividly…them and my
family, anyway. “Th-they’re sure?”

David nodded once, his eyes full of remorse.
“The lack of blood leads them to believe so, yes.”

I was slipping fast, my head spinning with
this new revelation. Taking a deep breath, I composed myself and
dropped my voice to just above a whisper as I leaned in to address
him privately. “Has my father seen this?”

“I’m honestly not sure,” he told me. “The
file just got dropped off, so if he has, he hasn’t connected the
dots yet.”

“Then he hasn’t.” I stood up and took the
file to the captain’s office, David hot on my trail, and knocked
rapidly.