Blood Moon (Bear Sheriff Book 1) Read online

  “Stop screaming!” he yelled, crawling up to his knees. Angie stood in front of him, petrified, eyes wide and panicked.

  “What are you?” she asked, raising the gun towards him again. He used his ebbing reserves of strength to reach up and slap the weapon out of her hand. He knew it was empty, yet he still didn’t like having it pointed directly at his face. She backed up a few steps. “Did you kill Erica? Did you try to kill me, too?”

  “No!” he said, stumbling to his feet. Blood leaked out of the bullet wounds. One had taken him in the shoulder and passed right through. One had grazed an arm and another had grazed his side. Those would cause no lasting damage. But there was one, buried deep in his gut that left him hunched over and wincing at every little movement. “Help me up.”

  Angie didn’t move.

  “Never seen a Shifter before?” he asked, a grin somehow managing to cross his face. He laughed, then winced and doubled over again in pain.

  “A what?”

  “Shifter. Kinda like a were –”

  “You’ve got to be kidding…”

  “Afraid not,” Marcus muttered. “Well, if you won’t help me, get out of my way. I have to get this patched up.” Angie didn’t move. “The least you could do is help me. After you shot me. It’s only fair.” She didn’t move, eyes wide. “Angie!”

  She jumped then, eyes coming into focus.

  “You’re… You’re… a bear…”

  “Shifter,” Marcus corrected. “Help me up. I’ll explain everything later.”

  Somehow, Angie came out of her trance and she looped a hand underneath Marcus’s arm and around his back. He was heavy, and she struggled to lift him, but any bit helped. He breathed deep, realizing she was a mixture of uncertainty, fear…

  And… lust?

  Marcus looked down at his blood slicked body. He was completely naked, and Angie had taken notice. She tried to keep her head up, looking away from his body, trying her hardest not to stare.

  “My Bronco’s just up ahead,” he grimaced. Even talking hurt.

  Up ahead, Marcus saw his Bronco sitting in the darkness. But off to the right, in an abandoned parking lot – was flickering light. A lot of flickering light.

  “What is that?” he asked.

  “Oh, my God,” Angie said. “My car.”

  Marcus and Angie came around the building, near his Bronco, and saw the blaze for the first time. Everything clicked into place. Angie had already been sitting in the abandoned parking lot when Marcus had pulled up. She’d followed him down the alleyway all of the way towards the Great Southern.

  And while they away, someone had torched Angie’s rental car.

  “Grab my clothes,” Marcus breathed. He opened the door to the Bronco, climbing in the passenger seat and staining it with blood. He pointed towards a dumpster they’d passed a few feet back. Angie ran forward and grabbed them, then she came back to the Bronco. “You’re gonna have to drive.”

  “Okay,” she said, still stunned. “Okay.”

  She hopped in the Bronco and fired it to life. Marcus couldn’t help but smile at the familiar rumble from the old vehicle. It was one of the only cornerstones in his life.

  “Should we call it in?”

  Marcus shook his head. “If I call it in, they’ll wonder where I’m at. Let’s get out of here.”

  “And what do I tell them about the car?” Angie asked. They rolled out of the alley, Marcus pointing directions.

  “Nothing,” Marcus said. “I picked you up to watch you. You left the car there. We were never at the Great Southern.”

  He could tell that Angie was uncertain about lying, but he hoped she understood that it was a necessity. They couldn’t be linked to the fire.

  Especially not with how the town feels about us. Hell, they’d probably try pinning the murder on one of the two of us.

  Looking over at Angie, it was clear that she’d come to the same conclusion.

  Angie drove slowly, her eyes constantly flickering over to Marcus’s naked form. After a few stares that went on entirely too long for him to feel comfortable with Angie behind the wheel, he took his clothes and covered himself up as modestly as he could.

  They reached his farm a short while later. Marcus kept expecting the call to come in through his radio, but it remained silent.

  Odd.

  But he pushed those thoughts away. The bullet grinding inside of him was almost too much to bear. He was slick with sweat and sticky with blood as he climbed out of the Bronco, bare feet walking up the sidewalk to his house.

  Angie helped him along, then once they reached the house, she hurried up and opened the doors for him.

  “Bathroom,” he uttered. Even talking was growing tough, but Angie heard enough to run forward and start him a hot bath. He hobbled up behind her, and said, “Under the sink.”

  Underneath the sink was a bag that she grabbed. She unzipped it, pulling out all sorts of medical supplies: sutures, stitches, gauze, everything he thought he’d ever need.

  “You’re gonna… pull it out,” he managed, dropping his bloody clothes and lowering himself into the steaming hot water. He shuddered in pleasure, all worries about modesty in front of Angie completely forgotten.

  “I can’t,” she said, holding up handfuls of supplies. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “It’s… easy,” he breathed. “I’ll walk you through it.”

  He pointed at a few tools, saying, “You’ll need to pull the bullet out.”

  Angie blanched, but grabbed the tool just the same. “Marcus…”

  “You have to do it,” he said, going lightheaded for just a moment.

  “What if there’s internal damage? That sort of stuff? You need to go to a doctor!”

  “No. I’ll heal fast. But it has to come out, and I can’t go to a hospital. You don’t want me explaining that you shot me, do you? Imagine how that’ll look for the investigation.”

  Angie nodded, her face still as pale as he imagined his was.

  “It’s right here,” he told her, splashing water and cleaning the wound. He reached over and grabbed some antiseptic, then splashed that on the wound, as well. “Get it.”

  The pain was like being shot a second time, and when Angie faltered, he yelled, “Keep going!” It took a few minutes of blinding white pain, but he heard the sound of a bullet hitting the side of the tub and then sinking into the water.

  They were silent a moment, Marcus with his eyes closed, gathering himself. The pain was receding. It hurt, more than he could imagine, but it would get better. He would heal, and the bullet had done no lasting harm.

  “You need to stitch it up,” he said. “The needles are right there.”

  “I’ve never given anyone stitches,” she told him, but she listened to his instructions all the same. Compared to taking the bullet out, the stitches were a breeze. She stitched him up five times: the four entry wounds, plus the exit wound in the back of his shoulder. It was slow going, and the water from the bath had went red and cold, but finally, it was done.

  “Thank you,” he breathed when it was finally over. He leaned forward and winced, but managed to pull the plug on the bath. To her credit, Angie kept her eyes on his upper body while the bloody water drained. Then he plugged it back up and started refilling the tub, keeping the water as hot as it would go.

  “A Shifter?” she finally asked, grabbing an ancient bottle of bubble bath he’d never once touched before and spraying it into the water.

  He shrugged his uninjured shoulder. “Not my choice.”

  “I… I thought I was going crazy. I didn’t know anything like that could be real,” she told him.

  “Unfortunately, we are.”

  More silence broken only by the water filling the tub.

  “The golden eyes?”

  “Yeah, a surefire way to tell.”

  “I’ve never seen anyone else with golden eyes.”

  “We try to keep to ourselves. Under the radar.”
/>   To her credit, Angie seemed to be taking everything in stride. He’d only revealed that he was a Shifter to one other woman in his life…

  And Angie is taking it a lot better than she ever did.

  Thinking that made him feel a flash of guilt, as if he was somehow tarnishing her memory.

  Stop.

  Angie turned the water off in the tub, still kneeling down next to it. He looked over at her, reassessing everything he’d thought about her.

  He’d known she was smart and stubborn, determined to do her job. She was determined to figure out who was after her and who had killed her friend. But he never would have imagined she was this strong.

  Her life was just turned upside down, and instead of panicking and running away, and leaving me to die – she helped me. She brought me home. Took out the bullet, stitched me up, though she’s never done it before. She’s a good person.

  She’s a better person than I am.

  “Can you hand me the soap?” he asked. Angie leaned over the tub, trying her hardest to ignore his body, and grabbed the bar of soap. It slipped out of her hands, disappearing into the water. She reached for it instinctively – catching it just underneath the surface of the water, mere inches from the space between his legs.

  Her face turned crimson, mirroring the time she’d saw him completely naked in his changing room.

  He held out his hand, but she said, “Here, let me,” and grabbed a washcloth, soaping it up.

  Then, ever so tenderly over his bruised and bullet ridden body, she cleaned off his chest. Most of the blood was gone by this time, but she took special care in making sure he was clean. She washed his shoulders, his back, even his arms – especially the one that had been grazed by a bullet.

  “I’ll let you do the rest,” she said, handing him the rag. “I’ll be in the living room if you need anything else.”

  “Thanks,” he told her. “Sincerely. Thank you.”

  She softly put her hand on his chest and stood up, her palm lingering against his skin. He felt as if electricity was flowing between them. The touch was unlike anything he could remember ever happening before.

  And then she bent down and pressed her lips against his. Marcus didn’t fight it. He kissed back, their lips moving against each other, Marcus’s head spinning.

  Angie broke the kiss, pulling away, her face as confused as Marcus felt.

  She gave him a nervous smile, a smile that said she was unsure of why she’d just done that, her face brighter red than he’d ever seen before.

  “I’ll be outside,” she said and turned, closing the door behind her. Marcus sat in the tub alone, no longer worried about anything else but what had just happened.

  Somehow, things were falling into place. He didn’t know what was going on with Angie, or even that it was acceptable – but he had liked the kiss.

  And…

  He had finally recognized the scent. He knew who had broken the window at the Great Southern. He knew the killer’s identity.

  He grabbed the bullet from the bottom of the tub, spinning it in his fingers and watching it glint dully in the bathroom light.

  Marcus smiled.

  Chapter 16

  There was a little diner right off of Main Street. Angie wasn’t sure how it was still open. She’d missed it completely on her way through town and that had been when she’d actually been looking at businesses in town. To those just passing through Charming, they would have no idea it was there.

  Marcus sat across from her at the R & C, which she took to mean Rest and Coffee. Taking her first tentative sip of coffee, Angie smiled. It wasn’t half bad and she could see why members of the community might resist the idea of another coffee shop opening in town.

  Angie’s mind was ablaze; she’d hardly been able to sleep at all. She knew she had dark bags under her eyes and her hair was nothing short of a mess, but that was okay. She’d changed into some clean clothes early this morning, so that was something, at least.

  On the other hand, Marcus looked revitalized. He couldn’t help but grin as their food was brought to the table.

  “So, who is it?” she asked, sliding her OJ to the side as a big plate of biscuits and gravy was set before her.

  Marcus just took a bite of his chicken fried steak and grinned even more.

  “Marcus…” she warned, stabbing a biscuit with her fork. She started to reach for the knife…

  “Okay, don’t hurt me anymore,” he said, swallowing his food quickly.

  “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m sorry for –” Angie began, then looked around at the others in the diner. The booths next to them were empty, yet she still hissed, “Shooting you.”

  “It’s fine,” he laughed. “Honestly.”

  Angie’s thoughts had been a swirl of uncertainty since the night before. She’d shot Marcus, four times. He wasn’t human, either – and although that was stunning, she found that at that moment – it didn’t bother her. He’d told her all about Shifters the night before, after…

  After I kissed him. What was I thinking?

  She still didn’t have a good answer to that. It had been a spontaneous spur of the moment thing. Was it because she felt guilty for shooting him? Had it been because of the attraction she was feeling after she’d seen him naked? A combination of both?

  Or had it been something more? Was she falling for the broken Sheriff of Charming? He was crass, rude to her, and her the absolute opposite.

  So why am I thinking about him?

  Her mind had been churning faster than she could keep up the night before. She’d sat in his living room chair for a few moments while he sat in the tub, then she’d retired to his room. Because she knew that’s what it was: his room.

  And that made things even more complicated. She knew she was sleeping in Marcus’s bed, under his sheets, where he’d been.

  But I wanted him there with me.

  Things hadn’t got any better when he’d knocked at the door, a smile on his face.

  “Don’t get your hopes up,” she’d told him. “That isn’t happening again.”

  But he had told her something she hadn’t been expecting to hear. He’d told her that he knew who had tried to break into her room.

  He knew who the killer was.

  And with that, he’d went to bed. Angie had almost jumped out of bed right then, chased him down, and demanded to know who it was.

  Instead, she’d laid in bed and tried to figure it out for herself, wracking her brain.

  “It’s Dean Copeland,” Marcus whispered, leaning in conspiratorially. Hearing those words brought Angie out of her thoughts that were stuck on repeat, playing last night over and over.

  “What? Are you sure?”

  “Positive,” Marcus grinned, taking another bite of his food.

  “How do you know?”

  “Last night, before…”

  “I shot you,” Angie finished, and she too took a bite of her food. Suddenly, everything seemed so much better than it had previously.

  He’s figured it out, somehow. And I kissed him…

  Her thoughts kept coming back to that thought. Try as she might, she couldn’t bring herself to stop thinking about it.

  “Wait. It’s that Shifter thing, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. There was a scent near the broken window. Faint, almost undetectable. But it was there. I wouldn’t have been able to pick it up, though, if I hadn’t ran into Dean outside of his father’s office the day before. He brushed up against me as I was leaving the office, and he was going in. There’s no mistaking it. He was there, that night.”

  “And you’re sure you just weren’t… You know…? Smelling your own clothes?”

  “Positive,” he glared. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “I believe you,” Angie said. “So, what do we do next?”

  “We?”

  “We. You and me. You’re telling me this, so I’m a part of it now. I want to catch him and I want to bring him to justice.”
>
  “Fine,” Marcus told her. “You stay back and let me do all of the talking. But first, we finish breakfast. Dean is the head of a construction crew for his father. They don’t do a lot of work, but they won’t be going anywhere fast. So, we have time.”

  They finished up breakfast and Marcus pulled out a twenty and laid it on the table.

  “I can get my own,” Angie said, pulling out her own money.

  “Let me,” Marcus insisted.

  Angie froze, hand halfway to dropping her own money on the table.

  “Is this because of last night?”

  “What? No,” Marcus said, taking a drink of his coffee. “Wait, what? What do you mean?”

  “Don’t play coy,” Angie shot. “You think because I made the mistake of kissing you that you have to buy me breakfast. That there’s something there. That there’s going to be something more.”

  “No,” Marcus said and drained his cup. “I don’t think that at all.”

  “Good, because there’s not. It won’t happen again, let me tell you.”

  “Good,” Marcus said as he got to his feet.

  “Good.”

  “Wait. Good? It was a mistake?” he asked.

  Angie hadn’t meant to say that, not really. The kiss hadn’t felt like a mistake. It had felt good. His lips had felt good. In fact, she wanted to walk over to him, stand on her tip toes, and plant her lips on his again. But she wouldn’t do that.

  Never again.

  “Yes,” she lied, though it hurt to say. She didn’t want to hurt Marcus, but she couldn’t let herself get involved with a man like him. He was a county sheriff, she was a world-renowned developer.

  “Yeah, I agree,” Marcus told her, though his grin from before had faltered. Where there had been some kind of warmth, some kind of camaraderie between them only moments before, now there was nothing but the cold focus on doing the job.

  Angie climbed in Marcus’s Bronco, shooting him laser beams. He glared at her and she asked, “Am I allowed to sit up front, this time?”

  His response was a grunt that she took as an affirmation, then they pulled out of the R & C parking lot. A block over brought them to the main drag of Charming. Marcus turned the Bronco north and headed out of town.