Beneath the Broken Moon: Part Two: Shifter/Vampire Romance

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Author's Note

  Other Books by SARAH MÄKELÄ

  Excerpt for THE WITCH WHO CRIED WOLF

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2015 Sarah Mäkelä

  Beneath the Broken Moon: Part Two

  Sarah Mäkelä

  Carmela Santiago only wants a loving relationship with a man who cares about her. Now she struggles to choose between the alpha werewolf she’s destined for and the vampire she’s enchanted by, but the wrong decision could lead to deadly consequences.

  Alpha werewolf Brendan Kelly knows there is more to his future mate than he knows, but he won’t let anything or anyone get in the way when it comes to their destiny together.

  Meeting Carmela might have been a nail in vampire Derek Ashmore’s coffin. However, he can’t stop thinking about her regardless of the very real danger that might pose.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Derek

  The headcount began, signaling the start of the High Council meeting. I reclined in a plush red velvet chair next to Elliot, already wanting it to be over with. Many years ago, the meetings had appealed to me, and I’d listened to the drawn-out political babbling as if it all mattered. Now I forced myself to attend.

  Sadly, that wasn’t the only thing worrying me. Someone was after me, and I didn’t know who or why. What did they know about me? If someone had discovered I helped Carmela... I locked the thought away. Some vampires were telepathic; thinking of her could be treacherous.

  The other council members were from all walks of life, and ranged in appearance from young adult to elder. Some smelled as if they’d walked in from a shantytown, while others were well-groomed and polished.

  A few kept their minor nocturne minions seated at their feet in what the council believed was a manner appropriate to their class. I didn’t subscribe to that school of thought. Who was becoming extinct? Nocturnes. Who was the threat? The humans striving to build up their numbers again.

  The progress humans and nocturnes alike had made over the centuries had mostly been lost, secreted away by the human government in their laboratories and military bases. They thought their wealth could protect them from the horrors of this new post-apocalyptic life, but history had proven time and again that the average person wouldn’t be suppressed forever.

  Lord Prescott entered from his private chambers at the front of the room. He appeared young and lanky, as if he was in his late teens or early twenties, but he’d been the High Council’s chairman for centuries before I was even born. The power emanating from him swept through the chamber, flooding everyone with its intensity.

  Goosebumps pricked my flesh, and I clenched the arms of my chair. Elliot stiffened beside me. One would think we’d get used to this after a while, but Prescott made sure his vampires obeyed him. No one would dare to threaten his position.

  “Most of you know why we’ve gathered here.” Prescott stood next to his throne. He fixed his gaze on me. “Why don’t you remind us, Derek Ashmoore. I’m sure you know, yes?”

  My lips pulled away from my fangs, but I forced my expression to remain neutral. Giving him a piece of my mind wouldn’t be best. “As the chairman, I assumed you would tell everyone why we’re here.”

  Prescott narrowed his grey eyes at me, then turned to another vampire. “Giles Cleaver, what’s the main item on our agenda?”

  Giles, a crooked old vampire, cast a haughty glance my way before addressing Prescott and everyone else. “We are here to acknowledge the death of Tom Turner, a senior High Council member. You shall pick the newest senior member, my lord.” He bowed at the waist before sitting back down.

  “You received the memo. Good.” Prescott seated himself on the throne. “As Giles said, one of our own has been murdered. This doesn’t even speak to the fact that the kindred beneath us are murdered every day by those human creatures. The Cazador... what a dreadful name.” He entwined his fingers over his flat stomach and observed the council members.

  “Who is worthy of fulfilling the role of senior member? Who has earned his place among us and will act in our best interests?” He narrowed his gaze on me, and the muscles in my shoulders tensed. Prescott swiped his tongue across his slightly yellowed fangs, enjoying the sight of watching me squirm; then he twisted his attention to my right.

  “Elliot Quinn. How long have you been among us? Since the reign of Queen Victoria, yes?”

  Elliot stood with his head bowed. “No, my lord, I became a vampire during King Edward VII’s reign.” His knuckles were white from clenching his hands together.

  “Yes, that’s right. Still, you have a few centuries under your belt, and continue to prove yourself useful.” Prescott scanned the room, drawing out the spectacle.

  Elliot retook his seat after a few moments. He nearly vibrated with nervous energy, which wasn’t like him at all. This was a big deal for him, since he still believed we could make a difference through politics.

  I leaned forward in my chair, resting my hands on my knees. Prescott needed to pick someone already, and end this verbose meeting. One of our kind had been killed, and that led me to wonder if the attacks on me were related.

  What reason would a necromancer have for putting his life on the line to kidnap vampires, though? Maybe Tom’s death wasn’t connected.

  “Head in the clouds today, Derek?” Prescott steepled his fingers under his chin. He shot a tidal wave of power at me, hitting me in the chest. My body jerked back into the chair at the impact, and the air rushed from my lungs. Agony burned inside me like a blazing torch. I clenched my hands into fists to keep from reacting. “See me after the meeting. Now, focus on our business here.”

  I flinched, no longer wanting to be here. Elliot bumped my foot. No, this wasn’t the way to get on Prescott’s good side after my absence.

  “At any rate, I will promote Elliot Quinn as the newest senior High Council member. As far as Tom Turner’s death, I will find who committed this crime. If I find anyone to be less than honest and forthright with information, I will rid this forsaken planet of you and your underlings. Obey our laws, and don’t bring harm upon our kindred. We need to remain strong. Understood?”

  A low rumbling of agreement filled the air.

  “Good. If no one has any further concerns, we will adjourn.”

  The room remained silent.

  Council members very rarely offered up their fears to Prescott in the public forum. Most tried to stay out of the spotlight.

  “Adjourned.” Prescott rose from his chair with flourish, brushing aside his platinum blond hair, and waited there.

  “What was that about?” Elliot whispered as we walked down the stairs of the large lecture hall. A couple of vampires shook their heads at me as they filed toward the exit.

  “Derek, come. Let’s go to my office.” Prescott waved his hand toward the door of the private chambers near his throne. “Elliot, you may join us if you wish.”

  I cut my gaze to Elliot. He should go home instead of getting wrapped up in this.

  Something was wrong; I could sense it the closer I got to Prescott. He masked how he t
ruly felt in public behind a façade, but I’d spent enough time with him over the centuries to pick up on his mannerisms.

  We followed him into his grand office. Many Renaissance paintings lined the walls, and a colossal crystal chandelier hung overhead. I kept my arms at my sides, focusing on remaining calm and neutral, especially after my misbehavior during the meeting. Besides, Elliot had warned me about Prescott being on edge due to my recent lapse in attendance.

  Our chairman sat in a massive brown leather chair behind his ornate mahogany desk, and waved to the crimson seats facing it.

  Elliot took the one on the right, and I sat in the other.

  “Congratulations on your promotion, Elliot. You are witness to this discussion.” My friend nodded, and Prescott turned his gaze on me. “What distracted you in the chamber? You don’t like politics, but there is an air of unease about you. You will tell me the truth.”

  Thankfully, Prescott wasn’t a telepath, but he was excellent at deciphering lies.

  I lowered my head. “I’m wary after hearing about Tom Turner, my lord. An attack was made on my life yesterday.” It took all my strength not to shift in my chair, especially under Prescott’s watchful eyes.

  He nodded. “I see. You clearly fought off your assailants. Did you know either of them?”

  I shook my head. “I did not.”

  “If I may, my lord...” Elliot stood and bowed at the waist.

  Prescott waved his hand in dismissal. “Save the formalities for the council’s chamber.”

  “I visited Derek at his home and noticed a familiar scent, presumably belonging to one of the attackers.”

  “And who would that be? Do you have more than that? A name, perhaps?” Prescott turned the full weight of his gaze on Elliot.

  “Sadly, I don’t recall where I know the scent from.” Elliot didn’t shrink back.

  “Disappointing.” Prescott examined a few papers on his desk. “I’d need more information before I can say if the attacks are connected.” He leaned back in his chair, glancing between us. “I have the initial information on Tom’s death here. If you agree not to speak of this matter with anyone else, I will share it with you.”

  “I won’t say anything.” If my attempted kidnapping was connected, I might figure out who was after me. I doubted whoever it was would give up so easily.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Carmela

  Brendan intrigued me. There had to be more to him than what I knew. I mean, our box seats at the theater had an excellent view, with the added bonus of someone catering to our every need. The play itself had enthralled me from the moment the curtains lifted.

  The steakhouse we were at now was a five-star restaurant, and unlike any I’d ever been to. The menu hadn’t even listed prices, so I imagined our meal was costing Brendan a pretty penny.

  He smiled at me from across the table, the expression warming his ocean-blue eyes. The more time we spent together, the more I wondered about him and our potential future. Could I trust him?

  Maybe my wariness was due to my experiences with other werewolf males. Mother sometimes talked about how things were with my father before they mated. He wooed her and treated her well, until she conceived a female child. Would Brendan be the same way? Did he value a male werewolf for an heir so much that he would shun me or the female offspring I might bear?

  I stabbed a juicy piece of rare steak and plopped it into my mouth, trying to use the manners my mom had drilled into me. As I took in the classy surroundings, I realized now was certainly one of those times when I needed them. When he’d offered to take me out for steaks, I should’ve known it wouldn’t be to a diner, but I hadn’t expected all of this.

  I savored the steak’s taste and texture, not knowing when—or if—I would ever have something so delicious again. Maybe if I mated with Brendan, I wouldn’t be under the strict constraints Father placed on our family. I might be able to make my own choices, if the face Brendan showed now was any indication of who he really was. What other werewolf would brush off a vampire encounter because I asked him to? I couldn’t think of a reason for him to do that, unless this union meant something to him other than fulfilling an obligation or making a power play.

  I hoped what he portrayed wasn’t a lie meant to lure me in. If he sunk his claws into me and then expected to treat me the way Father treated Mom, I would run away to the Outskirts. Life was a lot more dangerous there, but I wouldn’t submit to more abuse. I refused.

  Brendan placed his hand on mine. “Is everything okay?” He glanced down at my plate to see the meat almost gone, and smiled again. “If you’d like another steak, we can get more.”

  My eyebrows rose. Another steak would be divine. But thinking of Father and the fact that I’d be returning home soon made me nauseated. I couldn’t handle more food even if I wanted to. “Everything’s great. The food is wonderful, but I’ll have to pass on another steak. Thank you, though.”

  “I know what you’re holding out for. Dessert, right?” He held up a hand for the leggy blonde waitress, who hurried over to us. “A dessert menu, please.” Brendan kept his gaze on me instead of on the waitress, showing that his interest was in me, the woman he’d be mated with.

  A sigh of uncertainty escaped my lungs. He seemed almost too good to be true. Why was he doing this? My father had arranged our mating, so pretense wasn’t required. Except on my part.

  The waitress returned with the dessert menu and placed it in front of us. She looked to Brendan, as if desperate for his attention. “Would you like a little time to look over the menu? Or do you know what you’d like?”

  “I’ll defer to the lady,” he said, smiling at me. “Do you know what you’d like, Carmela?”

  I glanced at the menu, feeling the pressure of his gaze on me. The thought of having more food didn’t sit well with my stomach, but I didn’t want to ruin the evening by telling him what really bothered me. “Hmm... How about the molten hot fudge brownie?”

  Brendan nodded. “That’s my favorite too.”

  “I’ll have that right out.” The waitress took the menu and retreated from the table, her shoulders slumped.

  “Are you sure everything’s okay?” he asked once the waitress was out of earshot. “I want you to enjoy yourself. If there’s anything I can do to make this better, tell me.” Concern crinkled the corners of his eyes, and his lips tightened into a slim pink line.

  Acting so downtrodden wasn’t fair to him. He’d gone through the effort to plan this evening for me. I shouldn’t be giving off negative energy when he obviously wanted our first date to be special. “I’m sorry.” I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “I guess I don’t want our evening to end.” Truth. Going back home would mean dealing with my father.

  “Do you mind if I ask a personal question?” His piercing gaze made me feel naked.

  “That would depend on the question.” I lowered my gaze, not wanting the conversation to descend into anything uncomfortable; but then again, maybe I owed him for such a wonderful evening.

  “Does your father hurt you? Be truthful with me. This is important.”

  My mouth dropped open. I should’ve expected he would ask something like that, considering how standoffish I’d been with him, but I couldn’t help the keyed-up nervousness that betrayed my baggage. Father had acted rather confrontational at the house, too. Maybe he’d noticed that. I moved my mouth, but no words came out. I just stared at him, speechless.

  “Please, answer the question. I don’t want to force the issue.” He pointed at my shoulder splint. “Did he do that to you?”

  I shook my head. “No.” If only he knew... My chest clenched, and I wondered what he’d do if he found out my father did hurt me sometimes. Calm down. Don’t panic. It’ll all be okay.

  Brendan’s brows drew together and he leaned in. “Fine. If you want to tell me, I can make sure he doesn’t hurt you anymore. You don’t have to protect him. He’s not worthy of a wonderful daughter like you.”

/>   I blinked at him, relieved that he seemed concerned about my safety, but also scared. Maybe he thought he could protect me, but I doubted that was possible, given my father’s prestige. How could he beat a man like that? He’d only get himself hurt.

  The scent of hot fudge filled my nose as the waitress headed toward our table. Saved by a brownie. I wrung the napkin in my lap as she placed a hot fudge brownie delight on the table with two spoons sticking out of it.

  “Would you like anything else this evening?” she asked, looking between the two of us.

  “No,” Brendan said.

  “I’ll leave the check here. Feel free to pay when you’re ready.”

  “Thank you.” Brendan grabbed a spoon from the dessert and ate a couple of small bites with whipped cream and hot fudge. He didn’t look at me or say another word.

  Sighing, I picked up the other spoon and kept to my side of the brownie. Heaven forbid he think I didn’t want any; that might upset him even more.

  We shared the blame for evening falling to ruin. If he hadn’t insisted on bringing up my father, then I wouldn’t have refused to give him a proper answer, let alone the truth. But what could I do? Say my father was a cruel bastard who seemed closer to diving off the deep end than ever, and then deal with the consequences of my actions? Brendan couldn’t do anything about my father. Only the Alpha of Alphas’ opinion would carry any weight, and a werewolf like that wouldn’t care for a random girl like me.

  I needed to leave the restaurant and get away for a while; just take a walk and be on my own. I set my spoon down on the edge of the plate, not willing to eat anymore. If I left Brendan, I could be throwing away my future. He’d been kind, if a little pushy. Besides, Father would be furious if I arrived home by myself, and if the Cazador showed up...I’d be screwed.

  The idea only having one arm to defend myself—and of risking further injury if I shifted—made me that much more desperate to shed my human skin and run free. Life had become far too stressful. Maybe the Outskirts would be better than this.