remember I asked her to check with Evan about the Gaslamp’s Blood Emporium.
“Have you talked to Evan?” I ask as a greeting.
A sigh. “No. He sent me a text an hour ago. He has an important hearing tomorrow that he has to prepare for. He said not to wait up.”
“So you weren’t able to ask him about the Blood Emporiums?”
“Sorry. I do have someone else I could check with, though. I’ll call him in the morning if I don’t get a chance to ask Evan tonight.”
“I’m specifically interested in the place in the Gaslamp,” I remind her. Then I take a sip of my wine, taste the earthiness in the back of my throat, swallow. “Oh. I got an invitation to that benefit on Friday, too. Compliments of one of the participating artists.”
Liz squeals into the phone. “Hey. I’ll hook you up. We can double-date.”
I almost spew out a second mouthful of wine. “No, no. I’m not bringing a date. I’m not even sure I’m going. I have nothing to wear and—”
“Don’t be stupid. You can borrow something. You have to go. Keep me company. Evan will be networking all night.”
There’s an ominous pause. I can hear the wheels turning in Liz’s brain through the phone line. Or rather, the pages of her mental Rolodex flipping from one prospect to another.
“Yes,” she says triumphantly. “Walter.”
“The werewolf?” The irony is almost laughable. “No, Liz.”
“He’s a bit of a bore, and not very bright. But he looks great in a tuxedo and he’s absolutely amazing in the sack. He has this thing he does with his tongue . . .”
Once again, I have to swallow quickly to keep from choking on a mouthful of wine. “TMI, Liz. Really.” I put the glass down on the dining room table. Never know what Liz is going to say next, and I really don’t want to waste this wine.
“Although I’d really like to meet Zack,” she says.
Shit. Did she really just say that?
“Zack?”
“Yes, Zack. Your partner. Call and ask him.”
“Can’t. Full moon tonight.”
She’s not deterred in the least. “So ask him tomorrow. Let me know what he says.”
Liz hangs up.
I’m left staring dumbstruck at the phone.
• • •
Even after three glasses of wine, I can’t sleep. Images from last night have been flitting through my mind off and on all day. Instead of fading, the itch seems to be growing stronger and more urgent. Try as I might to focus on something else, anything else, my thoughts are of Zack, the way he looks, the way he feels, the way he makes me feel. That moment in his kitchen last night was my doing. And yet there is more than my power sparking between us. Zack proved that this afternoon in the conference room. We agreed to keep it professional. We
Why don’t I just admit it?
Because I can’t.
Bitterness burns the back of my throat. I lied to him. It was for a good reason. It was for the best reason. But when I think about the way I lied—so dismissive, so condescending—my gut twists. Zack deserves better. I’d like to make things right, but how can I? What would I tell him? That I’m something very old, very rare, and very dangerous? That I have been cursed by a goddess determined to bring ruin to anyone with whom I find love? That it’s dangerous for both of us to even
Maybe I’ll call him, apologize for being so abrupt. Keep it short. Professional. Even Demeter could find no fault with that. I dial before I lose my nerve.
His phone rings in my ear. Six. Seven. Eight rings. Then it goes to voice mail. I panic and hang up. Of course, I’d get voice mail.
I hear the howl of a coyote drifting up from the canyon at the edge of the property. Not an unusual sound. Tonight, though, it makes me feel terribly lonely. I wander out to the courtyard and look up. The moon in a cloudless sky casts shadows on the ground. Shadows that touch my feet and draw me forward into the darkness. The air is quiet and still. I am alone. Normally I would take comfort in that. Tonight, being alone simply feels . . . lonely.
I’d say my thoughts drift back to Zack. But since we had words earlier, they haven’t been far from him. I wonder where he spends these changeling nights and with whom. Last night I felt confident that if Sarah came to him for shelter, he’d turn her away. Would he do so tonight? Did he make it home on time himself?
Even those who have risen through the ranks to a position of power as leader of a pack are subject to the pull of the moon. Only the absolute strongest Weres can resist. Fewer still can change at will. Whether they’re Alpha, Beta, or Omega, one thing all Weres have in common is that they are fiercely loyal to one another, to their pack, and to their mates. Relocation is rare.
Why did Zack leave South Carolina? And, if his relationship to Sarah ended there, why has she followed him to San Diego? To convince him to return to his home? To his pack?
So many questions.
This is the third night. Zack will be free of the moon’s hold tomorrow. The old ones used to say a waning moon is the time to eliminate negative thoughts, release all guilt.
I wish it were that easy.
Wherever Zack is, I can’t reach him tonight. But tomorrow . . . I pick up the phone, dial his number again. This time I leave a message.
“I’m coming to the beach house tomorrow morning, Zack. I’ll bring breakfast. See you about seven.”
• • •
Demeter comes to me in a dream. She’s standing in my garden, dressed in a long gown that sparkles, its fabric sheer and woven from ice crystals. Everything about her is ice—from her translucent alabaster skin to her piercing cobalt eyes to her stark white hair, flowing past her waist and tinged with frost. She holds a sword in one hand, a severed head in the other. Blood from it drips onto the pristine pile of snow that has formed at her feet, staining it.
“Do you know who this is, Ligea?” she asks, turning the head so I can see the face.
No matter what name I currently use, Demeter always calls me by the first.
My stomach knots. “Yes,” I whisper, head bowed.
“His fate was in your hands. You had a choice. You made the wrong one. You betrayed him with your lust.”
“Not lust,” I cry, tears streaming from my eyes. “Love. He was my husband. I loved him.”
“Silence! You haven’t earned the right to love.” Demeter’s voice thunders into the night, her sparking anger splits the darkness like lightning. “You and your sisters lost that right when you lost my daughter.”
“But you got Persephone back.” Even as the words fall from my lips, I know I’ve made a mistake. We’ve been here before, she and I. You’d think I would have learned by now. I should never challenge Demeter.
The goddess grows still. “You’d be wise to remember who you are talking to, Ligea,” she says, the soft tone of her voice more frightening than if she’d been yelling. “Or I may add another head to my trophy shelf.” A cold smile turns her features into stone as a thin layer of ice and frost forms outward from the edges of her gown, covering her skin.
She holds the head up once again. She turns it so I can see the face. A scream rips out of my throat.
This time, the head she holds is Zack’s.
My eyes fly open.
The moonlight coming in through the windows casts the room in an eerie glow. My heart is pounding, my breath comes hard and fast, freezing into mist on the bone-chilling night air. The doors to the garden have been
