Break This! (A 300 Moons Book) (8 page)

C
hance listened
to Thea humming in the shower as he surveyed the trashed hotel room.

At least the walls and ceiling were glass and couldn’t be water damaged, he reasoned. But how much could it cost to rewire and drywall and replace the luxurious carpet?

Thea began to sing in French, her soft voice echoing hauntingly against the tiles of the shower and he stopped caring.

Put it on my tab, I’m in love
, he thought to himself.

The bear inside shook his glossy pelt in satisfaction, at last they were on the same page.

Chance wandered to the mirror, wondering if he looked different.

His eyes may have been brighter, but it was the tattoo that he noticed. It was darker, more pronounced.

He shivered, thinking of the burning, the demon, then the feel of the moon on his skin as he made love to Thea.

Back at Harkness Farms, they made a big deal about the 300th moon. All the shifter foster kids who came to live with Mom on the farm got a visit on the evening they arrived from sweet little old Mrs. Cortez, who Mom said was a witch. The good kind. They believed that Mrs. Cortez’s magic song helped them control their restless animals for 300 moons. But after that, they would be on their own to manage their shifts.

The spell seemed to have taken really well on Chance. Though he was always aware of the presence of his bear, he didn’t struggle not to shift like some of the others.

Maybe this was the reason that he had seen the 300th moon more in a spiritual sense than a physical. He hoped the moon would help him bond with a mate, and bring peace with his bear.

At the thought of mating, the bear crashed into the front of his mind, offering up the sparkling scent of Thea in the shower, brimming with happiness. And nakedness.

But Chance fought his libido a little longer to study the tattoo that swirled just below his skin. No, this was physical - very physical.

And he needed to talk to someone.

He was torn. He didn’t want to worry Mom.

Three of his foster siblings had been sung to the same night Chance had - Derek, Johnny and Darcy. Maybe one of them could help him figure this out.

He had just missed a chance to talk to Derek, who was flying from Glacier City to Philly at the same time Chance was doing the exact opposite.

Darcy was supposed to be holed up in the Poconos, waiting it out in isolation.

He grabbed his cell phone and tried her anyway.

He got nothing but a
caller out of service area
message.

He tried Johnny, who was always a long shot, especially before noon.

There was no answer.

Damn.

Chance paced the floor for a moment, then gave up and called home.

The phone rang and rang. When he was about to hang up, there was a click.

“Harkness Farms,” Mom said. Her voice was warm but Chance heard an edge of worry in it.

“Hey, Mom, it’s—” he began.

“—Chance, where are you, son?” she asked.

“I-I’m on a trip, for business,” he stammered, not having worked that part out. She was always a step ahead of him.

“Honey, you shouldn’t be far from home at a time like this,” she said firmly.

“Is Derek there?” he asked.

There was a pause on the other end.

“He’s not here. He didn’t come in last night,” she said tightly.

“Is he not coming?” Chance asked.

“He was supposed to get in last night, but no one has heard from him. Don’t worry, love, Derek can take care of himself,” she assured him.

That was undoubtedly true, but it was very unlike Derek not to stick to the schedule. Derek was very detail oriented, exacting.

“What about Darcy? I guess she’s at the cabin?” Chance asked.

“Darcy’s fine, she’s having a little spot of trouble at work, but nothing she can’t handle. And Johnny… Johnny checked himself into rehab,” she said.

Chance couldn’t hold back a laugh. Johnny was a rock star but he certainly wouldn’t need rehab, he barely even drank caffeine. It must have been part of his plan to lay low for their 300th moon.

“Is everything okay with you, Chance?” Mom asked.

Chance hesitated. He wanted to talk with her about the shadow creature. But she had raised him to be tough and independent. Besides, she had plenty to worry about with Derek missing and a house full of his little foster brothers and sisters to care for.

“I’m good,” he replied.

“So, no shadow demons for you, then?” Mom asked casually.

“What? How did you—”

“—Darcy told me. I talked to Gloria. She thinks they are a nasty side effect of the 300 moons spell. These creatures are attracted to excess magic. They feed on it, like leeches. And with all of the magic pouring off of you this month as the spell ends, you are lit up like a neon sign to them.”

“But why would Mrs. Cortez—” Chance began.

“Don’t be silly,” Mom chided. “She would never have knowingly put you in danger. When she cast the spell, creature like this weren’t free to walk in our world. No one could have predicted the changes we’ve experienced since the portals started opening again.”

Chance didn’t know much about the portals - only that Tarker’s Hollow was home to some kind of magical gate that was meant to stay closed. That’s why the wolves of the Tarker’s Hollow pack were there, to guard it. But somehow, the Tarker’s Hollow portal was damaged, and it sounded like it wasn’t the only one.

“But I’m glad you’re not having any problems like that,” she said sweetly.

Typical mom.

“Okay, okay,” Chance admitted. “I didn’t want to worry you, but here goes.”

He came clean, told her all about the night before - the part with the shadow demon anyway, right up until Thea came back and it disappeared.

“Hm, there must be something about that girl they don’t like. You stick close to her if you can,” Mom advised him.

Chance smiled.

“I think I can manage that,” he said.

“Well please be careful,” she said. “I love you, son.”

“I love you too, Mom. I will be careful, I promise,” he assured her before hanging up.

He would be careful.

As careful as someone that was about to pull off a heist could be.

He ran a hand through his hair, hating himself for doing something like this.

They just needed to make it through one more night, then it would be over.

He glanced at the clock, but it had stopped last night. He checked the time on his phone instead. Still had most of the day to kill before they went to work.

What was he supposed to do now?

“Cha-ance?” Thea’s sing-song call from the shower answered his question.

C
hance straightened
his tie and leaned back from the mirror to take inventory.

Not bad. He dressed up nicely, always had, but this tux was high end. He wondered how they’d fit it without measuring, then remembered that his height, weight and reach were public information since he’d gotten into professional fighting.

He wondered what the party would be like. He knew it was some kind of corporate fundraiser, but he really should have paid better attention so as not to blow his cover. Though, in fairness, he wasn’t exactly a detail man when it came to parties.

The white shirt looked great against his tan. Chance couldn’t resist doing a quick 007 impression, studying the mirror coolly as if it were a worthy adversary, but he was about to take it down anyway.

He saw movement in the mirror behind him, and turned, heart racing at the thought of the shadow from last night.

Thea stood in the bathroom doorway. Her outfit did nothing to slow his pulse.

Her hair was up, revealing the curve of her neck and highlighting the elegance she was known for on the runway.

Her dress swirled around her breasts and waist, wrapping snugly into a golden ring at her clavicle, as if she were a Grecian serving girl. The fabric went into a dozen sheer layers as it flared over her hips, accentuating her form and tantalizing Chance with the idea that he could see through the layers, though of course there were too many.

The moonlight shimmered on the dress, as if Thea were dancing, though she was standing still, very still, watching Chance watching her.

Her dark eyes were so large, so solemn in the sweet face that was already so dear to him.

She took his breath away.

“Thea,” he murmured at last.

Then she smiled her sunny smile.

“I look like the mother of the bride being eaten by a rain cloud, right?” she quipped.

“No,” he said firmly, “you look like an angel.”

“Well, tell that to Miss Sharp and we’ll both be in big trouble. You ready to rumble?” she asked.

He nodded, but instead he took her hands in his and leaned in to give her what was supposed to be a gentle kiss.

The bear had other ideas.

“Did you just growl at me?” she asked playfully.

Chance’s head was spinning with the speed at which the blood had gone straight to his cock.

“When this is done, we’re coming back here and I’m going to make you scream,” he told her darkly.

She blushed and looked down, making the bear roar with desire.

Down boy. That is not what she needs right now.

As she turned, he noticed the shadow between her spine and her shoulder blade, and wanted to trace it with his tongue.

But Thea was already walking down the hallway, and he had to move quickly to keep up. Not that there was any danger of losing her.

The bear was so aware of Thea, so attuned to her movements. He probably could have given her an hour’s head start and tracked every step she took.

A shining black Bentley awaited. The driver held the door and Chance followed Thea in, watching the layers of see-through skirt stretch momentarily over her bottom and giving him fantasy material he knew he would torture himself with all night long.

He slid onto the seat next to her, enjoying her dewy scent and the soft feel of her pressed to his side.

They drove through the shining city in silence, rainbows of neon blurred past the windows but Chance couldn’t even look. He was too wrapped up in Thea.

She was alert beside him, the bear knew. Though she held herself aloof as a princess, she wanted him like a wild she-bear.

Chance reached out a hand to slowly graze her neck, sliding a tendril of hair back into place.

He enjoyed her little shiver of pleasure at his touch.

She was his mate. He had marked her with his bite last night. She didn’t know it yet, but they would be delighting each other with every touch for the rest of their lives if the legends were true.

The car stopped at last and they got out.

There was something shocking about walking into Worthington Enterprises with ill intent, knowing what a hero and an all-around nice guy West was.

But Chance was here to help his mate. Hopefully, once this was done they could figure out a way to get both of them out from under Sharp.

But Chance was a good person, and the guilt was awful.

As long as you don’t have to talk to him or have any personal contact, you can pull it off.

Thea slipped her hand onto his arm and they climbed the steps to the plaza in front of Worthington Enterprises.

As soon as the doorman opened the glass doors West approached, one hand holding his silver cane, the other hand extended.

“Chance,” he said, clasping Chance’s hand and pumping it. “That was a helluva comeback the other night. Goes to show that a good man always has the heart to keep fighting.”

Chance nodded, unable to reply.

“I’ve gotta run off and find Cordelia, but we
will
talk more later,” West assured Chance. He winked at Thea and Chance swore he heard her let out a small sigh before West disappeared into the crowd.

So much for minimizing contact.

Thea squeezed his arm sympathetically.

Within a few minutes he was feeling better.

They’d been instructed to mingle as lower echelon stars like themselves normally would at a party like this one. Chance figured he’d be faking it and sweating bullets, he wasn’t much for small talk.

But Thea was great with people. She managed to drag him through a couple of groups, leaving all of them laughing. Then they leaned against a granite wall to chat with each other and hold court with the dirty old men who wandered over to ogle Thea and the guys who wanted to congratulate Chance on the fight. Way fewer of the latter, it turned out.

Normally, he found that type of conversation annoying - what could he say except
thanks
?

But Thea had a way of making him forget about everything else. In her presence he found it easy to be gracious. Something about just being around her made him feel thankful.

And when the little crowds dispersed, Chance had a hard time keeping his hands off her. Her body was like a buffet for his senses, all soft curves and shining dress. At least if anyone noticed them sneaking away later, they’d think it was for a much more obvious reason.

The food and drink were fantastic too. Chance had a pretty good appetite, and this place delivered. It might have looked fancy but most of it was fruit and protein, his natural prey.

He avoided only the bar, since he wanted to stay sharp. Though of course his shifter senses weren’t easily dulled by alcohol.

At last, Westley Worthington took the stage and the room fell into silence.

“As you know, this event is a fundraiser for Medical Prosthetics, a division of Worthington Enterprises that is quite dear to my heart,” West said, smiling down at a blonde woman near the stage.

Med Pros.

Owned by Worthington Enterprises.

“I know my name’s on the building, but Medical Prosthetics is truly the brain child of Dr. Mallory Pruitt. So I’d like her to come and say a few words. Mallory.”

He stepped aside as Mallory hopped eagerly onto the stage. She wore a tailored purple dress that precisely matched the purple of her hair.

“Thanks, West,” she said briskly. “So you may know that Medical Prosthetics has a nanotechnology division. We’ve been working on advanced targeting to combat disease and speed up the healing process.”

Mallory rattled off a bunch of technical jargon that left Chance reeling. He was no dummy, but most of it still went over his head. It sounded more like the plot to a science fiction movie than anything.

When he lost the train of it, he began to wonder if nanotechnology was what they were here to steal. Why would Sharp want something like that?

Suddenly the crowd was clapping, so Chance clapped along.

“Come on, Dalton, they want a demonstration, don’t be shy,” Mallory quipped.

“That’s Worthington’s head of security,” Thea whispered in Chance’s ear. She made it sound like a juicy piece of gossip, but he knew she was really telling him because it was important to the job.

Edward Dalton was a tall black guy with striking blue eyes. Did anyone in West’s crew not look like they just stepped off the cover of GQ? He eyed Thea suspiciously, but she rested her forehead on his upper arm for a moment sweetly, not even looking at the man onstage.

Chance smiled down at the top of her dark head, then returned his attention to Mallory. She was fussing with a metal box, while Dalton methodically rolled up his sleeve.

When Dalton was finished, he held out his bare arm for everyone to see.

Without warning, he produced a blade from somewhere and sliced his forearm with it.

The crowd gasped as dark red blood dripped to the marble floor.

Mallory approached quickly and pressed what looked like a gun to his arm.

The thing against Dalton’s arm made a sound like a cough. Chance wondered if it were some kind of electric syringe. A wave of revulsion rippled through him. He was a tough guy, but he hated needles.

Dalton’s blood stopped dripping.

A few seconds later, Mallory wiped his arm with a wet cloth.

The cut was gone.

Gone.

“This, ladies and gentlemen, is the future,” Mallory told them simply. “And it is what you will have a chance to fund this evening.”

The crowd applauded, the sound swelling to a near deafening level.

Worthington sure knew how to make an impression.