Raven Moon (23 page)

“If I were human, that would be true, but I’m under the influence of the moon.”

“DUIM,” She chuckled. Could a werewolf drive when drunk with lust? “So don’t drive.”

He rubbed his brow as if to ward off a headache. “You know what I mean.”

Rave waved her hand in dismissal. “Moon shwoon. Don’t worry. I’m sure the house has a doggy door.”
Which I’m going to nail shut.

He shot her a quick glance and scoffed. “Not even a dog run will do me any good if the beast decides his libido needs satisfaction.”

Bring it on, beast.
Rave smiled. “Fine by me.” Tonight was the full moon. Why should he be afraid of going hot wolf on her? She longed to hang out with the less inhibited beast than the stuffy Templar Benandanti. Releasing his pent up sexual tension would lighten his mood, and hers. Her skin tingled. What would his large cock feel like inside of her? It could be their secret tryst before they returned to the confines of their separate worlds. It’s not like he would claim her as his mate. His extended fangs just meant he had suppressed his wolf for too long. Time to let the beastie out for hot werewolf sex. Something she could brag about. Or not. If word ever got back to his pack, they’d probably skin him alive for knowing a raven in the biblical sense. Enemy or not, she felt protective toward the werewolf who saved her life.

Maddox sighed. “Not by me. Anyway, we’ll cross that bridge later.”

A very short bridge, because she would gladly bring it down. Their sexual tension was so explosive if they touched they would either mate like sex-starved bunnies or blow up in frustration. “Good, let’s see if there’s any food.”

He paused to look from the driveway to the house and then found a place to park. As they got out, he turned to offer a bossy alpha glare. “Stay behind me when we go in.”

“I thought you said you didn’t smell humans or zombies.”

“Are you forgetting the Kindred can hide their scent?”

“Good point.” Rave drew her weapon and leapt up the steps ahead of him. No flight powers yet, but her legs functioned without the pain of a broken wing.

Maddox growled and sped in front of the door, blocking her entrance. His fangs emerged and his wolf shadow flickered. “You are to obey me!”

Her heartbeat quickened at his fierce command. She stroked her throat and raised a brow. “Obey?” She cocked her head as if he had told her to go to her room for not doing her homework. Her tone all out sarcastic, “Really?”

“You do realize the Kindred are men, hungry for sex.”

“Speak for yourself.” She tried to step around him but he held her in a strong grip on the very arm that just healed and still fragile. How easy it would be for him to break her arm like a twig. “Owww.” He wasn’t hurting her but how would he know?

He growled a wolfish apology, “I’m sorry.” He blushed morning-sun red and then released her arm. “You really think you can take on armed warriors?”

She met his eyes. “Been there done that.” Fat lie. She’d only flown away from armed men, never fought them. Shooting the undead from a distance was different then confronting the Kindred who shot back with deadly accuracy. “Besides, silver bullets will kill you.”

He laughed with an edge. “Ravenna, not only will silver bullets kill you but so will normal bullets.”

Damn good point, werewolf
. “Chill, I don’t plan on getting shot, period.” She stiffened. “Do you smell chimpanzombies?”

“No.”

“Good. I need some R and R before going on a jungle hunt.”

Maddox drew her in and pushed her behind him. “Shh.” He went partial wolf, opened the unlocked door, and cocked to the side his furred ears.

She yearned to reach and rub his white wolf ears. What would it be like to nibble them?
Mind out of his den, Rave
. She tried not to swoon, though her legs melted at the feel of his powerful frame against hers. What would it feel like to have his full naked weight on her? She’d experienced his passionate hold and kiss at the hospital and since then, she desired him more than any other male, human or shifter. Was he always so protective of women? Didn’t he leave his almost mate, Mariah to hunt Jaeger on her own while he went to England to fight the British Kindred? Ah, that was the reason. Guilt.

Maddox sniffed and slowly nodded. “There’s a family of opossums living in the kitchen cabinets but other than that it’s clear.” He held her and smoldered her with his gaze. “Let’s go.”

Rave gazed up at him. “Do you want to carry me over the threshold?”

Maddox flinched and let go. He stared away from her. “I’m sure an appropriate raven prince will do the honors on your return.”

His reminder of her duty to her raven murder stung. What did she expect him to say?
Sure, let’s pretend we’re on our honeymoon and screw until sunrise
. She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” He stepped in and she followed. “Geez, looks like they fired the help.” The once opulent living room now gathered dust, but otherwise remained untouched. Perhaps the owners had stayed long enough to defend the estate. These days the only things taken were what mattered for survival such as guns, medicine, food, and water. This place had only offered horsemeat rather than a reliable workhorse. A nervous racehorse would not be the best form of transportation for anyone with less than jockey expertise riding skills.

They went from room to room in a post-apocalyptic open home hunt. Countless racing trophies and horse art dotted various rooms. Rave dashed toward the spiral staircase. “Race you to the top!”

Before she made it to the third step, Maddox flashed by her in werewolf speed. At the rail, he stood with his hands on his hips and a smug smile. “What took you so long?”

Not fair. Rave reached the top and glared at him. “Lucky for you my wings are not working,” she snarked while catching her breath. Still, her heart fluttered. Ravens chose their mate by flight maneuvers and speed. One out of two was not bad.

He flared his nose toward the hall and cocked his head. “Clear.”

Nonetheless, they carefully peered in each room. One could never be too careful with the Kindred and their ingenious methods of staying under werewolf radar.

Rave stepped into the massive master bedroom. She dragged her glance toward the separate mirrored walk-in closets. Clothes lay haphazardly strewn on the floor. “They sure were in a hurry.”

Maddox picked up a framed photo of a man and his much younger brunette wife kissing on a huge yacht. “I wonder if they are somewhere at sea surviving the Bane?”

Rave gazed at the photo. “Wow, the yacht is so big, it even has a helicopter landing pad.”

“These people were without a doubt from Texas oil rather than racehorses. I wonder if they made it to their yacht.”

“Hmm. Bird shifters have spotted humans living on large boats, but most don’t make it. Either a passenger becomes infected or they step off their boat to gather provisions and are eaten by the zombies.” Before the networks shut down, the grisly videos of infected cruise ships shocked her hardened sensibilities. Those who had escaped on lifeboats were abandoned to die in the open sea, since ports feared rescuing people infected with Z-Phage. Even prior to the Bane, cruise ships had issues with contagious diseases.

He set the photo back on the corner table, next to Cuban Cigars. “Not to mention storms, dehydration and starvation to boot.” He sniffed a cigar and scrunched his nose in disgust. “It’s possible to clear an island of the Bane. We did it in the Isle of Skye but it took great effort and the survivors had to apply the strictest quarantine measures to prevent infestation.”

“See what you can accomplish when you cooperate with other shifters?”

“Precisely. Unfortunately, since Dirk took a witch as a wife, cooperation between our packs is no longer an option.”

“Hey, watch it. You are talking about my BFF.”

He scoffed. “Only a raven would claim a witch as a best friend. After all, the ravens helped the witches invent the gleipnir.” The collar of Nordic myth was created to imprison werewolves, preventing them from shifting. Any struggle against the gleipnir brought the captured werewolf relentless pain.

“Dora rescued Dirk from the gleipnir Jaeger enslaved him with.” She rolled her eyes. Too bad the jerk didn’t know Dora had invented a cure for silver poisoning. Thanks to the witch, werewolves may never have to fear the Kindred again. No need to share that discovery with a member of the pack who broke the rules, and used silver bullets to kill fellow werewolves. Had Maddox approved the use of silver against other packs? And if so, had he used it to kill his kind? Her raven foresight, answered no. Nonetheless, she would not share that secret. “Trust me, if you met Dora, you would think she’s cool.”

“Most of the devil’s kin are
cool
.”

Rave laughed. “Got that right!” She checked out the woman’s living room sized walk-in closet. She combed through the hanging clothes of the high fashion name brands Rave once bought. Cute hot numbers.
Size four. I should fit into all of her outfits
. “Finally, I can dress in stylish clothes for the trip back.” In flight, she found abandoned clothing stores to change into something fresh but since she’d been flightless and bound with a Benandanti who acted as a hot date one moment and then foe the next, she’d worn the same outfit. “OMG. Shoes. I can’t believe she didn’t take these,” she said of six-inch red stilettos.

He stiffened and then snorted. “I doubt she will be pole dancing on the yacht.”

Pole dancing?
You dirty-minded werewolf.
He could have mentioned she wore them to the theatre, but went straight to sex. Rave shot him an incredulous look. The sexually deprived werewolf must have the worst case of blue balls. She’d heard they were not allowed to
spill their seed
. Had Mariah been his only lover? How did he function without losing his mind to the wolf’s oversexed drive? Hmm. She’d been pretty close to seducing him earlier. How long could he fight his need to fuck the daylights out of her? How long could she wait? At least she had a powerful ally, the moon. “You know, some of us wear heels just for dancing or dining out.” Wearing the stilettos would make her lips within kissing reach of his without having to stand on a step stool.

Maddox ignored her and checked the man’s closet. “After I secure the rest of the second floor, you can sleep here. I’ll sleep in an empty horse stall in wolf form.”

In the tossed about clothes, Rave found a sexy black negligee. She smiled, remembering how close he’d come to taking her last time he’d seen her flesh in the immodest hospital spilt gown. She called from the closet. “Yes, dear.”

The other ten rooms, empty of any sign people had lived there, were probably guest rooms. The rich dude had no pictures of kids or relatives. Only his racehorses and his beautiful trophy wife. Rave found an upstairs office with horse records and photos of his wife next to a winning horse. She picked up a horse-training journal that belonged to Becky Craig and leafed through it. Hmm. She was no ordinary wife, but the trainer. She must really miss the pre-apocalyptic world. Who didn’t?

“Come on, I could bloody well eat a horse.”

“I hope not.” Actually, the wolf ate like a horse. She hoped he wouldn’t want to really eat one. Earlier, they’d found a livestock feed store, stocked with dog food, which he downed in natural wolf form. Not even in raven form would she stoop so low to eat bird feed or worse, dog food. Rave had always been a bit of a cuisine snob and never ate anything but organic food. She only ate out at the finest five-star restaurants. Fortunately, the feed store had plenty of human junk food such as chips and candy, only a notch above doggie chow.

Rave walked beyond the dining room and into a large chef’s kitchen with the echo of Maddox’s boots pounding behind her. “Looks like survivors have been here after all.” The massive refrigerator was open and empty. The cabinets were also devoid of all food. Not even baking soda or spices remained.

“Do you want me to bring in a bag of dog food?”

“Nah. I’m good.” Grounded, she had no need for the extra calorie intake required for flight. Her human college roommate thought Rave was bulimic because she ate large portions and never gained an ounce. There was nothing better than scarfing down a carton of fudge brownie ice cream before a long flight. The thought made her hungrier, craving her chef’s French cuisine. Tomorrow morning she’d shift, swallow her pride and eat doggy chow. She smiled and held up a box of tea candles. “Look what I found.”

“Good, you will certainly need them, raven.” He ordered. “Let’s secure the rest of the first floor.”

Rave peeked in an office and her eyes widened at a painting. “Wow, a Chagall. The Equestrian.”

“Useless to tankers.” He scoffed.

But useful to me.
Right above my bed.
Rave admired the dreamlike oil painting of the couple on a white horse. She shrugged, “Eventually we should try to save valuable art.” She mumbled, “Instead of breaking furniture where ever we go.”

“Not my concern. Focus on finding a room downstairs to sleep for the night.”

Rave chased after him down the stairs. “Fair enough because no way am I sleeping upstairs.” She muttered, “Alone.” Outside the wind roared. In an hour, the place would be pitch-dark, leaving her blind to approaching danger. She would definitely need her seeing-eye-wolf, since a werewolf had clear night vision.

“There must be guest rooms.”

“Speaking of, look.”

The last room down the hall was a guest room. It was smaller than the ones upstairs but it would do. The bed was big enough for two. She hummed “I want to do real bad things with you,” the theme song from
True Blood
.

Maddox cocked his head. “Are you sure you don’t want the upstairs trophy wife’s room?”

Her skin tingled. Wolfiegang was definitely making his way out of the den. “Are you calling moi, a trophy wife?”

His jaw hardened and he stared at her as if thrown off by her flirty question. After an awkward silence, he answered with a tinge of resignation in his voice, “Certainly for the right princely raven.”

“Thanks for the compliment. I think.” Twilight’s darkness cast the huge home as horror movie spooky and the sudden lightning flashes and rumbling thunder added to the scene. Rave followed closely. Maddox stopped and she stumbled to a stop, nearly falling into him. Birds hated thunder and lightning.