Bad Moon Rising

By Jove Chambers

Dana Gray is no longer mated to Cole Randall, but as his former female alpha, she is still tied to the werewolves he forced into his pack. Now, she searches for a way to undo that bond and free herself from the wolf pack structure entirely.

Following a lead to sever the ties to her beta wolves, she arrives at Hunter’s Moon Farm, a commune of werewolves whose atypical approach to wolf packs may offer her a solution.

When Cole discovers where Dana is, he risks capture by the authorities and goes after her.

Cole knows Hunter’s Moon Farm well. He was born there, raised there, under the thumb of the charismatic and manipulative Brother Jimmy—the head of the commune and Cole’s father. Jimmy blames Dana for seducing his son and taking him away from the family. Cole knows she won’t be safe there.

Jimmy doesn’t forget. Jimmy doesn’t forgive.

And Cole will do anything in his power to get Dana away from his father’s influence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: V. J. Chambers
• Release date: Nov 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310587337

Jove Chambers

Jove Chambers is the dark romance pen name for USA Today bestselling author, V. J. Chambers. Most of her books were originally published under that name.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Hi there. The teenage guy looked Dana Gray up and down, grinning widely. What can I do for you?

We have an appointment, said Avery Brooks, wedging himself between Dana and the kid.

Dana and Avery were at the door to an old farmhouse in Lancaster County. Behind them, flat fields of corn stretched off into the distance, stark green against a blue sky dotted with clouds.

But the kid was still staring at Dana like there was nothing else to see.

I think I spoke to your mom? said Dana gently. She was pretty used to unattached werewolf guys reacting to her like this. Especially natural pack wolves who’d never been through the SF training. Mabel?

The guy laughed. Man, why are you here to see my mom and not me?

Back off, said Avery, glaring at him.

It’s my job, said Dana. I’m Dana Gray. This is my partner Avery Brooks. We’re from the newly formed Pack Liaison Branch of the Sullivan Foundation. And I’m well aware that I’m unmated female alpha, and that you’re an unattached lone wolf, and you can smell that.

Heck, yeah, I can. The guy was looking at her like he wanted to rip her clothes off.

"Back off," said Avery.

She patted Avery on the shoulder. Hey, it’s okay. He doesn’t mean anything by it.

Avery was still glaring at the kid. The hell he doesn’t.

The kid glanced at Avery. I don’t know what you’re deal is, dude. If you wanted her so bad, you should have already taken her.

Dana cleared her throat. I’d appreciate not being referred to something that can be ‘taken,’ if you don’t mind. Can you tell your mother we’re here?

The kid’s gaze flicked back to Dana. Sorry.

Not a problem. She smiled. Your mom?

Right, said the kid. He disappeared into the house.

Avery turned his glare on Dana. There’s always someone sniffing around you.

She shrugged. You don’t like it, you could always just ‘take’ me, you know.

Avery’s jaw tightened. You know I hate it when you joke about that shit.

Right. Of course. She should know better. Avery was adverse to giving in to any part of his wolf. He could mate with her and become the alpha of her pack, which wouldn’t necessarily mean that she wouldn’t still be attractive to other lone wolves. But it would mean that they’d smell it on him and give her a wider berth unless they wanted to try to get in a fight with him.

An attractive, but slightly plump woman appeared in the hallway. She had her dark hair back in a sloppy bun. She wore an apron over jeans. Dana Gray?

You must be Mabel, said Dana, offering her hand.

Mabel crossed the foyer and shook it, smiling. It’s nice to see you in the flesh, instead of talking on the phone.

Dana pointed at Avery. This is my partner, Avery Brooks.

Avery offered his hand as well. Nice to meet you, ma’am.

You too, there. Mabel shook his hand. Youse want to come into the kitchen? I got iced tea in the refrigerator.

Sounds great, said Dana.

They followed Mabel down the hallway of the farmhouse to the kitchen—an open, but pleasantly-crowded space. Mabel apparently like sunflowers, because they were everywhere. Sunflower towels. Sunflower potholders. Wooden spoons with sunflowers wood-burned into them hanging from a rack over the sink.

Mabel gestured for them to sit down at the kitchen table.

Dana pulled out a chair and sat down. Thanks again, so much, for welcoming us into your home.

Of course, said Mabel, opening the refrigerator and taking out a pitcher of iced tea. I guess you haven’t been real lucky with many of the other families?

More lucky than you might expect, Dana said. Most of them are wary, but I assure them that we want to learn from them, not take their children off to SF headquarters and strip away their pack identity. If I can convince them that we mean them no harm, they’re accommodating.

Mabel poured three glasses full of iced tea. And youse really don’t mean us any harm?

Definitely not, said Dana. The truth is that we had no idea there were so many genetic werewolves living without intervention by the Sullivan Foundation. Both Avery and I were bitten, and most of the wolves that go through our program were as well. We have ways of controlling the effects of the lupine virus, but you have your ways—and I think we could both learn from each other.

Mabel brought the glasses over. Possibly. I have to admit that there are things about what the SF does that were once appealing to me, when I was younger, before I met Howard.

Howard is your husband? said Dana.

That’s right.

And your alpha? said Avery.

Dana shot him a glare across the table. He wasn’t as good at this as he could be. She could swear that he was insensitive on purpose sometimes. No matter how often she went over what to say and what not to say, he seemed to ignore it. She was grateful to have him around. She’d needed a partner when she’d been reassigned from the tracker office to the Pack Liaison Branch, and Avery had volunteered. She and Avery had been partners for years, but always tracking rogue werewolves. Tracking wasn’t nearly as delicate as interviewing genetic werewolf packs.

But Mabel only smiled. That’s right.

Avery leaned back in his chair. So, once the two of you hooked up or whatever, you lost all interest in the SF?

Dana cleared her throat. Um, don’t mind Brooks. Sometimes he opens his mouth without thinking. She gave him a pointed look.

That’s all right, said Mabel. Youse are curious, aren’t you? And I’m here to explain. She smiled at Avery. The thing is, when I was fifteen or sixteen, I wanted away from my family—from my dad, who used to be my alpha. But, of course, when you’re a wolf, you can’t just up and run away. Because if you leave, then once the moon goes full, you shift. And if you stay, then come full moon, the alpha—my dad—just made us shift right back to human the minute the change went through.

Dana nodded. Of course. We understand. That piece of information was probably the only reason that the Sullivan Foundation had agreed to let Dana do research instead of coming in, guns blazing, rounding up every genetic werewolf and forcing them through SF procedures. Once Dana had explained that an alpha wolf could control the shifts of his entire pack, and that the genetic werewolves were not a danger to the populace, then the SF had stopped being so twitchy about it.

Mabel took a sip of iced tea. Well, back then the SF seemed like the answer to all my problems. They’d teach me how to control my shifts on my own. I wouldn’t need my dad no more.

But you didn’t come to the SF, because you met Howard? said Avery.

Mabel nodded. That’s right. Once I fell in love with him, and the two of us mated, well, then I was an alpha in my own right, I could control my shifts, and I was free of my dad, anyway. The SF wasn’t necessary.

But, said Avery, you’re still dependent on Howard.

Mabel shrugged. A wee bit, I suppose. But he’s dependent on me too, you know. I’m an alpha too, and we have our little pack of rugrats.

Dana smiled. We met one of them on the way in.

Oh, Timmy? said Mabel. He ain’t mine. He’s my stepson. He was part of the package with Howard. But now that his father and I are mated, of course, Timmy is part of my pack.

Female alphas had the same power over their packs as their mates. They could force the pack members to shift, and they could call the members to them.

Avery took a drink of iced tea. So, being mated to this guy, it changed you.

Mabel laughed. Love is a powerful thing.

Yeah, but it’s not just love, is it? said Avery. There’s some other bond that gets formed. Something primitive and strong.

I suppose so, said Mabel.

And it changed the way you think. It made you think differently about certain things. It made you almost a different person, said Avery.

Brooks! Dana glared at him. That’s rude.

It’s okay, said Mabel. I think I know why he’s asking these questions.

He’s being an ass, said Dana.

I’m not, said Avery, glaring back.

You’re wondering whether or not it’s going to change you if the two of you mate. Mabel pointed back and forth at Dana and Avery. That’s part of why youse are here, right? You’re trying to figure out what to do about your pack?

The two of us mating is completely off the table, said Dana.

Mabel raised her eyebrows. It is?

We’re actually hoping that we can find some way for Dana to break the bond between herself and her pack, said Avery. Make them free wolves again.

But that’s what the SF does, isn’t it? said Mabel. Breaks the bond?

For a wolf who’s never been through our training, yes, said Dana. But these wolves all have been through it. They were all bitten wolves who were taught to suppress their wolves right after their first shift. For some reason, that means that going through the training again doesn’t break the bond anymore.

Dana didn’t knowingly consent to being the female alpha of this pack, said Avery. She had no idea what she even was.

Really? said Mabel.

Obviously, I knew that I’d mated in wolf form, said Dana, but I didn’t know the implications of doing that. We had no idea that wolf packs even existed. We thought they were a fantasy of Fredrich Sullivan—some theory he made that he couldn’t find evidence for.

And your mate? said Mabel. What happened to him? He’s obviously not connected to the pack anymore.

Dead, said Dana. It was actually a long story. She’d been forcibly mated to Hollis Moore, which had severed her connection to Cole Randall, the werewolf serial killer who’d done all of this to her in the first place. But then Cole had killed Hollis, leaving her without a mate but still with a pack.

Ah, said Mabel. And you don’t wish to mate again?

Dana cast a sidelong glance at Avery. That was a tough question to answer. She wasn’t opposed to the idea of mating to Avery, but he was very much against it. He felt that doing it would warp both of their minds, making them both more interested in each other than they would be naturally. He was disturbed by the idea that the wolf bond would influence them. He already felt that he was overly influenced by her status as a female alpha. He blamed any attraction he might have to her on that, and he didn’t think it was real.

It would be better to sever the ties, said Dana. It’s one thing to be part of a pack when you’re related to the other members. It’s another entirely when the wolves that are tied to me are complete strangers.

True, said Mabel. Unfortunately, I can’t say that I know of any way to sever the ties.

Avery’s shoulders slumped. No one knows a way. The last people that we talked to said it was impossible.

But that’s not the only reason we’re here, said Dana. It’s something I’m trying to figure out. But I’m here because we want to talk to you about your family.

Mabel smiled. That’s exactly what you said on the phone. But I have to admit I was intrigued when I heard you were an alpha. My friend Becky went a spell without a mate when her husband Jack was killed in a car accident. Of course, she didn’t have any desire to break the bond she had with her own kids. But she did say that it was hard to get a handle on keeping them from shifting all by herself.

Dana nodded. I imagine it would be. And that’s the kind of insider story that I’m looking for. Exactly that kind of thing.

Mabel beamed. I got loads of those kinds of stories. She pointed at Avery’s glass, which was empty. More iced tea?

I’m fine, said Avery. He actually looked a little bored. He always tuned out when Dana started to ask questions about how the wolf packs operated, because it tended to be entwined in a lot of family stories—Christmas traditions, the time little Laura lost her first tooth, that kind of thing.

Good, said Dana, getting out her recorder and setting it on the table. Would you mind if I record you?

I suppose not, said Mabel.

Great. Dana switched it on. State your full name, plea—

Her phone rang.

Dana fished it out of her pocket. She didn’t recognize the number. Great. It was probably him. Damn it. She hit, ‘Ignore.’ She smiled at Mabel. I’m sorry about that. Go ahead and state your name.

Mabel Ann—

The phone rang again.

Dana’s jaw twitched. She held up a finger. Hold on a minute, Mabel.

She was going to have to answer it. If she didn’t answer it, he’d keep calling. And she couldn’t turn her phone off, because SF policy required that all agents have their phones turned on in the case of an emergency. She’d get chewed out and reprimanded by her boss Ursula King if she switched it off.

Dana brought the phone to her ear. Hello?

Dana, purred a rich, deep voice in her ear. Cole Randall. Are you alone?

No, she said. I’m working.

Too bad, he said. Because I’m rock hard, and I’m thinking about peeling your clothes off inch by inch—

Now’s not a great time, okay? She forced her tone to stay even. Her body was involuntarily responding to his voice, like it always did, but no one else had to know that. I’ll have to get back to you.

You know I won’t have the same number by the time that you do, said Cole. I’ll have moved on. It’s unfortunate, really. It could have been incredibly… satisfying. For both of us.

Gotta run. Working, she said, hanging up the phone. She turned to Mabel. Sorry about that.

Avery’s face had turned to stone. He reached for the phone.

Dana had two options. She could lie to Avery and tell him that it hadn’t been Cole on the line. Or she could surrender her phone, and Avery could get the SF to attempt to trace the phone number. Cole called her twice a week, at least. Always a different number—a different phone. He changed them out too quickly for them to find him.

Either way, Cole wouldn’t get found.

But Avery always got so worked up when he failed to get the guy.

Still, she didn’t want to risk lying to Avery about Cole, and having Avery flip out about that. She slid the phone across the table.

Avery stood up. Excuse me for a few moments. I have a little business to take care of.

Mabel nodded.

Dana fiddled with the recorder. Let’s start over, all right?

You know, said Mabel, there’s a place youse should try to go. It’s a farm in Virginia. A big group of werewolves live there. They’re a little out there, if you know what I mean, kind of hippie types. But they do have an alternative approach to packs, and maybe they’d know more about breaking the bonds with your pack. It’s a place called Hunter’s Moon Farm.

Dana turned to her, narrowing her eyes. In Virginia?

Yeah, she said. Little town called Brockway.

The same Hunter’s Moon Farm? How crazy was that? There were werewolves on that farm? I, uh, grew up in Brockway, Virginia.

Really? Mabel grinned. Small world, huh?

* * *

When Dana was seventeen, she’d been one of two survivors of the Brockway Massacre, in which two rogue werewolves had killed an entire gymnasium full of students, parents, and community members attending a high school basketball game. Dana had been bitten, and that was when she’d contracted the lupine virus. The only other survivor had been Cole Randall.

She and Cole had both been taken in to the SF and gone through the training to suppress their wolves. They’d both continued training to work for the SF. But Cole had dropped out halfway through the process, and Dana hadn’t seen him again until the night that he’d captured her and kept her in his basement. At first he tortured her, telling her he was working up his nerve to kill her. Then he’d decided to teach her how to control her wolf, so that the two could have a duel in wolf form—the best werewolf would win. In the end, there hadn’t been a duel at all. Instead, wolf instinct had kicked in, and the two had mated.

It was impossible for Dana to think of Brockway without thinking about the massacre. And it was impossible to think about the massacre without thinking about Cole.

Now, standing outside on Mabel Smith’s porch, gripping the railing, she remembered Cole in that moment, when she was seventeen in a gym full of screaming people. It had started right after halftime.

Adam and Chase, the boys who were responsible for the killing, had locked all the exits to the gym. Days before, they’d stolen the keys from the gym teacher in an elaborate scheme that involved Adam distracting the teacher while Chase sneaked into his office and got the key.

Dana didn’t know the boys. She and they traveled in different social circles. Adam and Chase were skuzzies—trailer trash. They’d worn Metallica t-shirts and dyed their hair black. Chase had even worn black eyeliner on occasion. Dana hadn’t even known they were werewolves.

It would come out later that the boys had engineered that as well, getting themselves infected on purpose so that they could carry out their macabre plan.

She thought of them now, remembering their faces on the occasions that she’d passed them in the hallway. If only she could have stopped them. She would have given anything to bend the two of them to her will, to keep them from killing those people.

That night at the basketball game, they shifted into wolf form, and they took their first victims just as the home team scored a basket. Amidst the cheers and yells, the screams of the first dead were drowned out.

But it soon became clear to Dana, who was sitting at the top of the bleachers with her friend Marci, that something was wrong.

She saw a blur of fur and teeth leap across the bleachers, several rows down.

Before she could react, she realized it was a werewolf, and she saw it sink red-stained fangs into the neck of a freshman whose name she didn’t know.

Blood spurted.

Dana screamed. She knew about werewolves. She’d grown up seeing the PSAs on television, the ones with the toll-free, 1-800 number for the SF emblazoned on the screen.

If you witness any suspicious behavior, do not hesitate to call this number. Your quick action could save lives.

But she’d never seen one up close, feet away from her. And she’d never seen so much blood in her life.

She wished that she had been selfless in that moment. That she’d grabbed Marci and taken her friend with her. Or that she’d looked around for her mother, who was in the stands somewhere as well. Dana never even looked to see where her mother was.

Fear had wiped everything from Dana’s mind except self-preservation. She leaped to her feet and began scrambling down the bleachers. She didn’t care if she stepped on people, if she elbowed them in the face, if she pushed them out of the way.

She had one thought, and that was that she had to get to the door. She had to get out of there.

Other people on the bleachers moved too, but Dana was just a few steps ahead of them. She was one of the first people on the gym floor.

By now, the game had stopped as the players heard the screams.

The referee began blowing his whistle.

Dana paid it no mind.

She sprinted for the door.

She collided with it, pushing against it. It was one of those swinging doors, and it should have given under her weight.

But it didn’t.

She drove her shoulder into it.

Nothing.

She shrieked—the sound coming from her mouth throaty and desperate. She slammed the palms of her hands against the smooth, varnished wood of the door. She tried to think words, but she couldn’t.

Giving up on the door, she turned back to the gym.

It was mass chaos now. Others were behind her, running for the door.

There were bodies on the bleachers, throats torn out. Bodies strewn on the gym floor, blood and entrails soaking into the white jerseys that the team wore for home games.

The air was rent with screams.

She thought of her mother then, but she was too far away to do anything about it.

The metallic scent of blood mixed with the tang of sweat.

Was her mother one of those bodies? Dana couldn’t tell.

And she had other problems. A hoard of people was coming for her—coming for the door—and she knew in that second that she was going to be crushed.

She held up her hands in front of her body, signaling to the others to stop, or perhaps in some vain attempt to protect herself, she wasn’t sure which. Everything was happening so fast.

The world had turned upside down, and all she knew for certain was her terror.

A wolf bounded over the heads of the coming crowd.

It landed, gaping jaws closing around a woman’s shoulder.

Blood gushed.

Dana couldn’t breathe.

She was rooted to the spot, mouth wide in horror, too frightened to move.

The wolf was barely four feet away from her. It snapped the woman’s neck and flung her body away. The woman landed with a sickening thud—the sound of meat hitting a butcher’s counter. Her eyes gazed dully up at the fluorescent lights in the ceiling.

Dana made a strangled noise in her throat.

The wolf seemed to hear, because its head snapped up.

Now Dana moved.

The people heading for the door had scattered now—they weren’t a stampeding mass anymore. Instead, they all ran in differing directions, their eyes wide, their expressions frenzied.

Dana ran too. Right into the mass of people, dodging them, veering to the left—and then to the right.

But the wolf got her anyway.

Its teeth dug into the flesh of her calf. The pain that shot through her was bright and excruciating.

She let out a mangled yell, kicking at the wolf with her good leg.

She connected.

It whimpered, releasing its jaws.

And then something grabbed her hand and tugged her.

Sideways.

Away from the wolf and into the alcove that led to the boys’ locker room.

She looked up and saw Cole’s face.

His nostrils flared. His jaw was tight. I know a way out, he said.

* * *

Cole Randall turned the disposable phone over in his hands, feeling for the catch to take off the back so he could take out the battery and remove the SIM card.

The phone vibrated in his hands.

He turned it over.

Hmm. Dana’s number. She was calling him back? That was a pleasant surprise. He put the phone to his ear. Hello, beautiful, thought you were working.

It’s me, Randall. The voice on the other end was male—growlingly pissed off.

It threw Cole for a second. He hadn’t been expecting that. But then he recognized the voice.

Avery Brooks, said Cole. Haven’t spoken to you since that time I got your own tranquilizer gun away from you and shot you with it.

Stop calling her, said Avery.

Was that embarrassing for you? I’d think that you might have felt a little bit stupid about it.

I mean it, you asshole. You’ve done enough as it is. You and Gray are done.

Cole laughed. Dana Gray and I will never be done. She’s mine.

I’m going to kill you, you know? I’m going to rip you apart.

Wouldn’t that be interesting, said Cole. Unfortunately, I think you and I will have to cut this conversation short. I’m sure you’ve got your pals at the SF trying to locate this phone. And, as I know you understand, I can’t very well let you do that.

He ended the call, ripped the back off of the phone, and yanked the SIM card out.

Avery Brooks was calling him on Dana’s phone?

What was that all about?

Had Dana asked Avery to do that?

Why?

She and Brooks couldn’t be…

No.

Cole felt sick to his stomach.

That was disgusting.

Of course, before—when he and Dana had been mated—she’d been willing to try anything to get free of the bond. Avery had hinted to Cole that Dana and he were attempting to be intimate. While the wolf bond held, of course, Dana couldn’t be with another man. It physically revolted her.

But now that the bond was broken, nothing was stopping her.

Cole curled his hands into fists.

The thought of Dana with that… that idiotic boy scout made him want to retch.

She couldn’t.

She wouldn’t.

She belonged to Cole.

CHAPTER TWO

Gray, get in here, said Ursula King, the head of the tracker office at the northeast branch of the Sullivan Foundation. Brooks, you too.

Dana and Avery had been on their way to their new offices. Ursula was their old boss. Though she technically didn’t have jurisdiction over genetic werewolves, they still reported to her as their direct supervisor. Generally, of course, she didn’t have much of anything to say about what they were doing. She had her hands full with the tracker office. And she didn’t know the first thing about genetic werewolves.

Everything okay, King? asked Avery.

She ushered them into her office. Depends on your definition of okay, I suppose. Ursula shut the door behind them.

Dana took a seat in front of Ursula’s desk. Is this about upper management again? Because I’m willing to meet with the higher-ups as many times as it takes.

No, said Ursula, sitting down at her desk. She gestured for Avery to sit down as well.

He did. So, what’s up?

Got a call from the southern branch, said Ursula. The facility in Virginia, the place that houses Chase Klebold and Adam White.

Does it have to do with Chase and Adam? said Dana. That would be ironic, considering that she’d just been thinking about the two of them and the massacre.

Ursula nodded.

They didn’t escape, did they? said Avery. His tone of voice was defeated—someone who’s come to expect the worst of news and is resigned to it.

No, nothing like that, said Ursula. They’re still locked up tight on opposite sides of the facility. But a few hours ago, both of them started banging on the doors to their cells and screaming Dana’s name. Independently, you understand. They don’t have any contact with the other.

Dana’s brow furrowed. "My name?"

Ursula nodded.

Well, Gray’s been all over the news, said Avery. They know who she is. They know she’s the only person to survive their massacre except for Cole Randall. They were looking for some attention. That’s all.

Dana looked at Avery. But they did it at the same time. And they don’t have contact with each other.

Avery sighed. We’re going to have to go down there, aren’t we?

They’re requesting that you do that, said Ursula. "The southern branch called here right after it happened, asking to speak with Gray. I told them she wasn’t