A Cursed Moon(20)

“We have to wait until it chooses its prey?” Celia’s head whipped around. “Aw hell, there’s got to be a hundred people crammed in here.” She prowled toward the center. “Spread out in pairs. Bren, you’re with me.”

I pounded after her and almost ran her down when she stopped short. A stunning Latina with skin the color of warm chocolate and long black hair that dragged to her feet stood swaying in the middle of the floor watching Dan. His eyes remained partly in focus; unlike the other fools surrounding him, he wasn’t drunk and therefore not trapped in the spirits’ magic. He was, however, making an ass out of himself. In a mad effort to “wow,” Dan had thrown common sense, pride, and his balls out the window. There he stood in perfect nerd glory: one hand clasped behind his neck, the other square in front of him jerking erratically. He was, no lie, trying to impress the hot babe by doing the “the sprinkler.” If I wasn’t busy trying to find the evil that continued to burn my senses, I’d have slapped the shit right out of him.

The Latina’s head whipped in our direction, fast enough to toss the blanket of hair shrouding her naked form behind her. Black, unearthly, immortal eyes blinked back at us. She bared her jagged teeth and snarled, “Mine.”

Oh, hell no.

Dan’s hands dropped to his sides and his face blanched. Celia and I shoved aside a few bodies and bolted to him. “Get back, Dan!” I growled.

Celia disappeared in a blur of speed. My steps grew heavy, weaker, despite how hard and fast I tried to propel my body forward. The thick air solidified in my chest, smothering my wolf and forcing him to lose consciousness. I fought to stay alert and lift my feet while coaxing my beast to wake and rise.

The mist slithered up my thighs, morphing my muscles into lead and pulling them from my bones. I groaned from the strain. And still I pushed. I had to destroy the spirit. She’d chosen Dan. I had to save him . . .

A trumpet blasted and a second Latina stepped in front of me. Good God. This one was younger, no more than twenty, and the most beautiful being I’d ever laid eyes on. The muffled crunch of a fist meeting hard bone made me want to tear my gaze away from her. Someone . . . something screeched in agony as skin was punctured and sliced like beef. I thought I picked up Celia’s pained grunt. And still I kept my focus on the vision of sex and desire before me. The fight—or whatever was happening ahead of us—didn’t matter. Nothing did. The lovely lady standing before me became my world.

Long dark ringlets curved around her heart-shaped face and the swell of her br**sts. Brown perfect ni**les punctured like bullets through the sheer fabric of her white dress. She ran a hand between her legs and rubbed, adding enough friction to make her lids flutter.

She was offering herself to me. And who was I to deny her? We needed our bodies to join. It was the only way. The only way to end her suffering . . . and mine.

“Bren!” Celia flung herself at my love.

My love answered by punching her in the jaw and sending her reeling into me. I snatched Celia’s wrists with one of my hands when she lurched back to attack. She fought my hold, screaming, “Damn it, Bren, snap out of it!”

The woman approached me slowly, her smile widening and her ni**les taunting me to play. I jerked Celia to the side, extending my arm to keep her away from us and giving my lovely beauty space to work. She yanked my T-shirt over my head and flicked her tongue down my chest and toward the strain pounding against my jeans. Celia lurched forward and kicked her in the stomach, despite my best efforts to keep her still. My love responded with a growl then ignored Celia to return to me.

The room darkened as she unbuckled my belt. All I saw was her, my entire being mesmerized by the sultriness behind those large brown eyes. The desire to have her mouth around me consumed me. I yanked the waistband of my jeans, helping her to pull them down.

Celia twisted and wrenched her body. I forgot she was there fighting me and became only partially aware that she’d begun to jerk away from us. Instead I focused on my lovely admirer and how she latched onto my boxers and pulled them down with her pretty pointed teeth.

Pointed teeth?

She licked me again . . . with her long gray tongue.

Gray tongue?

My wolf jolted awake, howling inside me and insisting something was wrong. I think he also called me a horny moron, but I might’ve misheard.

My beast’s rage shot to the surface. I could sense his growls, demanding to be released. Odd considering I was about to get some head . . . from a gal with pointy teeth and a gray tongue. What the—

Something cold hit my crotch; smacking me out of my stupor.

Celia had dumped an entire pitcher of beer on Little Bren. My hands slapped to my sides, releasing Celia and, son of a bitch, did she ever lose her shit. She nailed the Latina with a spinning back kick to the head. The woman whirled in the air and crashed with a hard thud on the concrete floor. Her skirt flew upward, exposing one gray leg and another shaped like some strange-ass kitchen utensil made of wood.

The spirit kicked out her leg, nailing Celia hard in the stomach. I lunged at them but failed to move anything but my arms. My body jerked viciously and my muscles strained from the effort. I remained stuck, watching and helpless to stop the devil’s version of Martha Stewart from taking on my friend.

What the hell?

Celia and the freak rolled around me, toppling the patrons now frozen in place. And they weren’t the only ones brawling to the death. Misha’s vampires battled bare-ass-naked women whose skin alternated from shades of brown to dark blue. Despite their malevolence and thirst for blood, the spirits’ exotic beauty proved hard to ignore. Their lovely faces drew me to them, and so did their aroma of sin and sex. Whatever they were had the same power to lure me, just like the one Celia had stopped from going down on me.