Sherrill Quinn

Taming the Moon


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Taming the Moon

      Taming the Moon

      SHERRILL QUINN

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      KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

       www.kensingtonbooks.com

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Epilogue

      Prologue

      Olivia Felan held her daughter close, breathing in the sweet scent of little girl and bubblegum, and tried not to cry. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her tears.

      Through the open window she could hear the sounds of New York—horns blaring, tires screeching, sirens. Cool April wind blew into the room.

      A shiver rolled down her spine, but it wasn’t the coldness of the air that made her shudder. Thanks to her werewolf metabolism, her internal thermostat ran hot. No, what made her shiver was the thought that she could lose her daughter, that he would take the little girl from her forever. Fear coiled deep in her belly. The sounds of the City That Never Sleeps faded as she let the feel of Zoe in her arms soothe her.

      “All right. That’s enough.” Brawny hands pulled Zoe out of her arms, though not roughly. “I need to talk to your mother, sweetheart.” Dark eyes glanced at Olivia, promising retribution. As he looked down at the six-year-old, stroking gentle fingers over the top of the little girl’s head, there was nothing but tenderness in his expression. His voice soft, he suggested, “Why don’t you go into your room and play with your dolls?”

      That sweet little head with its long, dark curls bobbed. “Okay, Uncle Eddy.” Zoe looked at Olivia with a bow-lipped smile. “You’ll read me a story before you go, won’t you, Mommy?”

      Olivia nodded and smiled, relieved when her lips didn’t wobble with the fear crushing her from the inside. She didn’t want Zoe to realize what a precarious position she was in—they both were in. “You bet, baby.”

      Zoe smiled again.

      Eddy bent and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his face softening as he watched her walk down the hallway. “You know I love her as if she were my own. I would hate it if I were forced to carry through on my threat.”

      But he would, Olivia knew. For the Alpha of the pack to voice an empty threat was full-on stupidity and the surest way to invite a challenge. Eddy was anything but stupid. He might say he loved Zoe, but he’d kill her in a heartbeat.

      Olivia had no guarantee that he wouldn’t even if she did manage to do what he wanted.

      “I love it when she calls me ‘Uncle Eddy.’” His voice was indulgent, just like that of a loveable, doting uncle. Of which he was none—neither loveable, doting, nor any relation whatsoever to Zoe.

      Olivia waited until the bedroom door had closed behind Zoe before she turned to Uncle Eddy. “I don’t want her calling you that.”

      His eyes narrowed. “Do I have to teach you—again—that what you want doesn’t matter?” His voice had taken on that raspy quality she could only equate to a snarl. “You’re nothing, Livvie. Nothing, unless I say you’re something. And unless you obey me in this, you’ll forever be nothing.”

      She forced back the overwhelming urge to attack him, to do something physical to protect her child. But she knew the only way she could protect Zoe—for now—was to accede to Eddy’s wishes.

      Someday, though…

      “No, you don’t have to teach me anything.” Olivia dropped her gaze in a submissive pose. She was, after all, the Omega of the pack. The whipping dog. The bitch that took whatever the pack wanted to dish out.

      It didn’t make her feel any better to be told she was an integral part of the pack, that she was the one who allowed them to let out their aggression so they could maintain their façade of civility among humans. It was against her nature to roll over and show her belly to anyone. But unless she wanted her throat ripped out, for now she had to submit.

      But one day she’d be in a position to assert herself. Just…

      Not today.

      “Good.” Eddy sauntered toward her, his thick fingers rubbing against one eyebrow. “Now, what was this you told me over the phone? That Sullivan isn’t dead?”

      Olivia drew in a calming breath. “No. I was interrupted. That wouldn’t have happened if John hadn’t played with his food five months ago. His target would be dead, and I’d have had a clear shot at Sullivan.”

      Eddy’s eyes narrowed. Clearly he was displeased with her tone. Or her excuse. Or both.

      She hurriedly switched tactics. “But I know where Sully—Sullivan—is. Or, rather, where he’ll be. He’s gone back to work.” She put as much conviction behind her next words as she could. “I can finish the job. I can! I just needed to see Zoe.”

      God, she despised the wheedling tone of her voice. Three years as the pack’s Omega, and she certainly sounded the part. Damn it.

      Eddy began humming a children’s song, and the words to it flitted through her mind. Ring around the rosie, pockets full of posies. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

      God. He’d hummed that right before he’d exacted “payment” by killing the family of the last werewolf who’d defied him. It was Eddy’s “tell”—the thing that signaled he was about to become very violent.

      She didn’t think he was even aware of it. Just the same, it sent ice down her spine.

      “So, now you’ve seen her.” Quicker than her eye could follow, he wrapped his hand around her throat and shoved her against the wall.

      The back of her head smacked against the hard surface, and she winced. Stars danced briefly before her eyes but quickly faded. It took more than a bang on the head to take down a werewolf.

      He brought his face close to hers. The stale smell of cigarette smoke couldn’t be covered up by all the mints he ate. “This is the last time you disobey me without repercussion, Livvie.”

      She focused on keeping her eyes downcast but otherwise not showing any fear. To show fear showed weakness, and she wasn’t weak. Submissive, yes, but only because she had to be.

      Never weak. One day she hoped she could prove that to Eddy with a finality that would take his breath away.

      And she’d give him an extra bite just for him calling her Livvie all these years. She hated it.

      She hated him.

      “I didn’t—”

      “Didn’t I tell you not to return to New York until the job was done?” His fingers tightened around her throat. When she started to speak, he gave a low snarl. “Don’t talk. Nod.”

      She nodded.