Beneath a Blood Moon by R. J. Blain Read Free Book Online Page A

would come knocking to make sure I wasn’t dying from plague. What was I going to tell them? That my ex-boyfriend had chased me down from New York City, fucked my best friend, and turned her into a werewolf before hunting me down as a honeymoon snack?
    No one would believe it.
    No one would believe I had joined forces with a wolf in order to survive being eaten alive. Under the light of a blood moon, I had ripped my best friend to pieces before turning on Rory.
    My wolf’s rage at Rory’s betrayal had consumed her, and she had delighted in his death. Wolves didn’t play with their prey, but she had enjoyed mauling his corpse and soaking her paws in his blood.
    In yet another fit of rebellion, my stomach churned. I ran to the bathroom and threw up, shuddering at the memory of their blood in my mouth. My wolf wasn’t very impressed with me, but her disapproval of the countless times I had vomited since the full moon was a far better than her lust.
    If I didn’t want to end up as yet another prostitute in Vegas with countless STDs, I needed to convince my wolf she had to curb her instincts. Maybe I could at least persuade her to have higher standards.
    Just any male, wolf or human, wasn’t good enough for me.
    The heat of her desire ebbed, and for the first time since we had started sharing my body, she relented. Giddy with relief, I showered away the sweat and basked in the chill of my apartment. I went so far as to stand in front of the air conditioner until my teeth chattered.
    With the clock ticking away and ten minutes left before I was late for my first day back at the club, I hurried to get dressed, wearing my red lace lingerie beneath my black vinyl bodysuit. I’d broil on the way to work, but men liked me sweaty with my skin glistening under the club’s hot lights. They especially liked the way I had to squirm and wiggle to escape the smothering confines of my suit, which clung to my every curve.
    Maybe the extra effort would earn me better tips. I needed them.
    The wolf didn’t understand why I wanted to attract males without mating with them. She didn’t understand the concept of money, either.
    “I like men with dark hair,” I informed her in a hissed whisper, binding my blond and blue hair up in a messy bun. “Taller than me. Gentle hands. None of this blond-haired, blue-eyed beach boy bullshit.” Rory had ensured I’d never want another blond-haired man ever again. “No gym groupies—I don’t like feeling helpless in bed with a guy who can break me in half with his hands. Don’t even think of looking at any sleaze bags. Suits, wolf. If you’re going to try to get me in bed with some man, at least have some standards. No druggies, no gang members, no scum buckets. Got me? So help me, I’ll drown us both if you put me in bed with an abuser because all you can think about is sex. If you’re going to turn me into a brainless slut, you better pick men who can pay well, unless you want to starve.”
    With her main priorities being sex and food, if I didn’t make some effort to take control of her, we really would starve. Before she had come around, I had been mostly vegetarian, sticking to the occasional plate of scrambled eggs, fish, and bacon for special occasions—or when I was feeling really, really rich. I had consumed more meat in the past three days than I had in three years . I wanted to curl up in bed, hide under the covers, and cry. At the rate I was eating, I’d devour more food by the end of the week than I had in a year.
    To make matters worse, she was hungry again. At least she had the decency to feel sheepish and apologetic about it. I sighed. “If you lay off a bit and don’t try to force me to sleep with someone tonight, I’ll take you to a buffet.”
    An all-you-can-eat place might be able to handle her appetite—maybe.

    While Las Vegas in the late fall was far cooler than during the summer, I was soaked in sweat by the time I reached the club. My wolf, at least, wasn’t