Moon Over Atlanta Read online

  Yup, Zander had nailed it again. What other choice but the bond contract did he have? Without it, not only would he leave the Clan vulnerable, but he’d die dragging them into disgrace with him. The last time an Alpha blood had been taken by the moon was during the Crusades, and that family still hadn’t regained its seat on the Council nor its honor among the other Clans.

  Ryan stared blindly at the stars. He’d spent enough time wishing some other option would present itself. That another heir would miraculously appear, or that Ryan would somehow find his true mate before it was too late.

  No more. At least he’d have a mate and live so he could learn to shoulder his responsibilities. What more did he want?

  The wolf inside him snapped at the edges of Ryan’s mind and growled.

  Everything!

  Chapter Two

  “Oh, my god! Sell my clothes, I’ve gone to heaven.”

  Sara Gardener couldn’t agree more with her sister. The lobby’s mix of white marble, warm colors, and authentic natural wood accents was stunning. Glad to be here after what seemed like a never-ending trip from their home in Oakridge, Oregon, Sara closed her eyes and basked in the artificially cooled air engulfing her.

  To be in Atlanta early today, they’d had a layover in San Francisco last night, then endured the second leg of the trip in an overcrowded cigar tube. “I’m with you. I didn’t realize it would be this warm here, particularly so early in the day.” A sharp jab in the ribs from her sister’s boney elbow popped Sara’s eyes open and she nearly dropped her suitcase. “Hey!”

  “I’m not talking about the air conditioning, goofball.” Hailey, who’d dropped her own luggage, grabbed Sara by the chin and turned her head up toward the central cavern that made up the hotel’s historic atrium core. “I’m talking about a different kind of hot.”

  Looking up sucked the moisture from Sara’s mouth. The soaring vertical space above was ringed with balcony walkways designed in a geometric block pattern surrounding a central tower. One that had glass elevators shooting up and down at a rate that couldn’t possibly be safe. Tearing her gaze away, she focused on the enormous golden sculpture erupting through the floor that ended in a precarious-looking conical fan several stories above. Although she could appreciate the grand architectural statement, looking at it wasn’t helping her vertigo.

  “Not way up there.” Hailey adjusted the level of Sara’s chin lower, bringing into her line of sight an elevator stopping on their level. “There.”

  A hunky highlander sporting nothing but a kilt, knee-high boots, and a sword slung over his massive shoulder emerged, followed by a bad-boy biker wearing plastered on leathers that left little to the imagination. Next came a sexy pirate with his lace-front shirt open, and finally, a hot cowboy stepped out in a set of chaps that showcased how well he fit into his jeans. The usual din of a Romantic Times Convention hotel in the throes of invasion by thousands of romance readers and writers rose as other women took note of the masculine display.

  Hailey released Sara’s face and clapped her hands. “Now you’re cookin’, sis. Dibs on the kilt.”

  Sara gritted her teeth and groaned. Not two seconds in and Hailey’s testosterone-seeking radar had fully engaged. “Stop staring and put your eyes back in your head.” Sara hissed while attempting to trap Hailey’s elbow. “They’re professional models, not toys. Don’t be so rude.”

  Hailey feigned a look of shock and flung her arms to the side, evading Sara’s clutching hand. “Rude? I’m not being rude. I’m exercising my right as a red-blooded woman to appreciate a fine array of man-candy when I see one.” She looked up with a wink and waggled her fingers at the men. “If you ask me, you could use a toy that doesn’t require batteries for a change.”

  “Hailey Jane Gard—”

  “Besides, they don’t seem to mind.”

  Much to Sara’s chagrin, the men were either waving back, smiling suggestively, or blowing kisses at her incorrigible sibling. She latched onto Hailey’s still fluttering hand and tugged. Fine. Let them flirt with Hailey, what did she care? While Sara wanted someone special in her life at some point, right now, her career came first. Besides, so far reality hadn’t compared well to fiction. Hailey could do what she wanted—but not here.

  Snatching her luggage, Sara barely gave her sister time to retrieve her duffle bag before heading toward the check-in counter. Still stinging from the vibrator reference, Sara’s voice dripped censure. “Damn it, Hailey, we talked about this. You know conventions and signings are an important part of my career, especially now with my next book contract hinging on this TV thing. You told me you understood that and promised you’d behave.”

  “What’s the big deal? It’s not like I’d jump MacHottie’s bones or anything. Okay, yes, I would, but not yet.” Her voice dropped an octave. “Och, lassie, have ye ever wondered aboot what a highlander truly wears beneath his kilt?” Hailey’s own tone continued. “Why, yes. Yes, I have.”

  Lack of sleep, nervous energy, and her innate need to somehow make up for the mother they’d lost too young collided in Sara’s brain and frustration pushed the feeling past her lips. “Keep it up, Hailey, and it’ll be the last time I bring you along. I’m almost sorry now and we’ve only been here ten minutes.”

  Her sister’s hand pulled out of Sara’s grip. “Sorry you brought me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Sara’s feet stopped and her words of a second ago went through the filter they’d skipped the first time. Uh-oh. She’d done it again. After they’d been separated as kids, Hailey had gone through things that left her self-esteem on shaky ground, and Sara seemed to blunder into that minefield with alarming regularity, regardless of her good intentions.

  She squeezed her eyes closed and took a cleansing breath before turning around to face her sister. Hailey’s arms were crossed over her chest and she’d planted her feet in a wide combative stance. Everything from her trendy torn jeans and scuffed moto jacket to her lug-soled boots and stony expression radiated badass.

  Most would fall for it, but not Sara. They may have spent their formative years attending different courses in the foster system’s school of hard knocks, but they’d graduated with the same honors, so she could see past her little sister’s defense mechanisms to the hurt lurking beneath.

  Sara dropped her bag again and lifted her hands in surrender. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything—”

  Hailey’s overly bright eyes negated her snarling lip. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it? I’m an embarrassment to you.”

  “No!” Sara pulled her sister’s rigid body into a hug and held on so she couldn’t squirm away. “Don’t you ever say, or even think, something like that again. Do you hear me?” Moving back enough to see Hailey’s pinched face, she softened her voice. “You’re my sister and I love you. Period. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

  It took several more attempts at cajoling on Sara’s part before the tension in Hailey’s shoulders relented, then with a loud sniffle, Hailey lifted the back of her hand toward her nose and broke eye contact. “I’m your only living relative, dork face. You have to love me. That doesn’t mean you want me here.”

  Sara blocked the hand her sister was about to wipe her nose on and handed her a tissue from her pocket instead. “Of course, I want you here. Although I could do without the name-calling. I wouldn’t have let you badger me into it if I didn’t.”

  It took a second for the words to register, and when they did, Hailey puffed up like a blowfish. “Badgered—”

  Sara’s own ball of tension eased. “Besides, where else would I find a willing slave…I mean awesome assistant to help me juggle everything I need to do over the next several days, not to mention keep me in line at all the parties.”

  The twinkle rekindled in Hailey’s eyes and her usual high color returned. “Parties! You? Talk about embarrassing. You don’t know the first thing about a par-tay.”

  The last word was emphasized with the gangsta hand gesture and sid
e bob of her head that Sara usually cringed at, but was happy to see now. “Really? And what would that be, oh queen of the club scene.”

  “For starters, you can’t take your laptop to one.”

  Sara, glad they were past their awkward moment, let go of Hailey and spoke over her shoulder as she retrieved her luggage and continued toward the desk. “Hey, I’ve been known to take breaks and have fun when I want to, you know.”

  Hailey stretched her stride to catch up and swung her duffle bag over her shoulder. “Ha! Says she who only ever has one drink and thinks quality time with her streaming service counts as a hot date.”

  Sara swatted Hailey and lowered her voice as they joined the growing line to check in. “I do not.”

  “Oh really. When was the last time you interacted with a living three-dimensional male? Better yet, when was the last time you had sex?”

  “Hailey!” Sara hissed, her face flaming. Her sister hadn’t lowered her voice at all, and several heads turned their way, trying to pinpoint the source.

  Sara slouched her five foot eight inch stature down closer to five-three as another voice, on the verge of sounding too deep for a woman, rang out from behind them. “Five years and counting. Right, Sara?”

  There was only one person in Sara’s life more outrageous than her sister and that was Nicki Canter, a fellow author she’d met at her first Romantic Times Convention in New Orleans four years earlier. They’d instantly hit it off and had been friends ever since.

  “Wait, or is it more?”

  “Nicks!”

  They both squealed and dove at each other. Breaking free of the mutual bear hug, Sara squinted at the other woman. “I thought you weren’t coming this year.”

  “Wasn’t going to, then you said you were bringing your sister and I changed my mind.” Nicki turned her attention to Hailey. “It actually has been over six years. It was right around the time your sister started writing about sex that she stopped getting any.” She cracked an evil grin. “I’m thinking before this week is over, between the two of us, we might get your sister’s cherry re-popped. What do you think?”

  Hailey looped her arm through Nicki’s with an even more terrifying smirk on her face. “Ooo, I like her.”

  Sara pointed a warning finger at each of them as they shuffled forward with the crowd. “We are so not talking about this. Besides between the convention and the TV show stuff, I’ll be too busy, so you can save your breath and your effort, ladies.”

  They looked at each other and shrugged. Then Hailey lifted a fist for Nicki and grinned. “I say, game on.”

  Nicki grinned right back and bumped Sara’s rotten little sister’s knuckles with her own. “Damn straight. I never back down from a challenge. Operation Re-pop is a go.”

  “May I help the next guest please?”

  Sara growled at them then plastered a pleasant smile on her beet-red face as she approached the registration desk and the far too knowing young man behind it.

  She was so going to do something gruesome to her sister and Nicki in her next book.

  Chapter Three

  “Rolling.”

  The radio chatter from the different crews and all motion, except for the live camera, instantly ceased. Other than a natural breeze in the trees, everything went quiet on set.

  “‘Fangs for the Memories.’ Scene five. Bravo. Take two.”

  Snap!

  “Action!”

  Ryan cued Zander, who drifted out from behind a large beech trunk until he reached his mark, and Ryan shifted his hand position to palm up, signaling him to stop.

  “Hey, whelp, what’s my line again?”

  Ryan pulled back a grin. “You’re supposed to howl dumb-ass, but not yet. Now shut up and pay attention.”

  Zander’s co-actor in this scene, a tiny waif of a girl named Heather Danvers, glanced at Ryan with saucer-wide eyes and gulped. There hadn’t been much time for him to get her used to being near an animal taller than her, let alone a wolf, before cameras were ready to roll. But with Ryan’s smile and a wink to reassure her, she swallowed again then walked right up to Zander and delivered her lines. He had to admit the kid was a true professional.

  “But…I don’t want to go back, Akeeda. I want to stay with you.”

  For everyone else’s benefit, Ryan signaled Zander with a clenched fist, and he complied by issuing a deep-throated howl and Heather’s character joined in. A now machine-generated wind gusted over them then died along with their voices. With a heart-wrenching sob, Heather buried her face in Zander’s thick silver fur and wrapped her arms around his neck as far as they could reach. “I love you.” Ryan tilted his wrist and Zander dropped his head to rest over her shoulder.

  “Cut!”

  Zander swiped his tongue up the little girl’s cheek as she pulled away and Ryan groaned. Idiot. He marched across the set as he lifted an open fingered hand above his head and barked out a command he knew he’d hear about later. “Zander, down.” But to his credit, Zander immediately dropped into a down-stay position, though not without firing a dirty look Ryan’s way first.

  Heather stood pensively with her hands clasped in front of her, as though she was having a hard time keeping them to herself, but still looked nervous as she peered up at him through her lashes. “C-can I pet him?”

  He felt a spike of mischief from Zander and sent a warning through their connection without taking his attention from Heather. “Tell you what. If they don’t need you for a few minutes, why don’t you help me get him back to his enclosure where it’s quieter and then we’ll see.”

  Her gamine features radiated excitement. “Okay, I’m not in the next scene so I have some time before they’ll want me in makeup again.”

  “Good.” Ryan pointed at the ground next to his right leg. “Zander.” This time a jolt of annoyance came through, but he took the position and dutifully stayed there on the way to the patio hauler. “So, do you have a pet at home?”

  Heather beamed a smile up at him. “I do, and she even travels with me when I come to sets away from home.”

  “I’ll bet that’s nice for both of you.” Ryan nodded and waved at a passing lamp-op, no doubt on his way to re-rig for the next shot. Irv was known for changing things up on whim at the last minute, making tons of extra work for the lighting crew, but they always managed to get it done without impacting the schedule.

  Heather spun so she was walking backward. “It is. Maybe you could meet her sometime.”

  “Sure, I’d like that.”

  “Awesome, Cleopatra’s a great cat.” She reverted to moving forward with a skip in her step. A cat. Great. Since Ryan was a kid, the fickle little beasts had fascinated him. Unfortunately, they didn’t seem to share his esteem no matter how hard he tried to make friends with one.

  “Oh, this ought to be good! Don’t forget to wear leather gloves this time.”

  “Just because I haven’t met one who likes me yet, doesn’t mean I won’t.”

  Ryan opened the door to the screened-in back section where Zander and the others stayed when regular humans were around and held it open for Heather.

  Zander followed behind her. “When will you get it through that pea brain of yours that a cat is never going to like a Wulver. Can’t figure out why you’re so interested in the megalomaniacal little fur-balls anyway.”

  “With friends like you, my interest in other species is a self-defense mechanism.”

  “What do you mean, smartass?”

  Ryan ignored him and grinned as he handed Heather a massive desiccated pig’s ear. “Here, you can give him this to keep him occupied while we brush him. I’ll hold him so don’t worry, just grip the edge and move in slowly.” He wrapped an arm around Zander’s neck and fisted a handful of the fur on his ruff as the girl offered the “treat.” “I’m sure after he gets this, he’ll be happy to let you help groom and pet him.” Ryan patted his head and spoke with a singsong lilt. “Isn’t that right, boy?”

  Zander glared at Ryan, but behav
ed with Heather, taking the ear from her carefully. “Bite me doesn’t cut it this time. I could let the insult slide, but you’re going pay big time for every second this mummified piece of shit sits in my mouth.”

  “Quit grumbling. I hear shriveled up cadaver parts are good for your teeth. Be thankful it’s not one of the petrified bull dicks that were on sale.”

  *****

  Zander had spat the now soggy pig’s ear out the second Heather was gone. “Disgusting.”

  “Serves you right for licking her face in the first place. Act like a dog, and I have to treat you like one to keep up appearances.”

  Zander turned in a circle and plopped down with his back to Ryan. “Must be a fly I hear buzzing around in here.”

  Two quick raps on the door to the trailer’s main living quarters echoed into the back. “Hello in the trailer.”

  The open fin tail door was closer so Ryan headed for it, nearly running into a rotund man wearing an NTC Studios jacket and ball cap. He must’ve been in too big a hurry to wait for the other door to be answered. “Can I help you?”

  The shorter man stuck his hand out. “Sheridan?”

  Ryan reciprocated and did his best to ignore both the limp fingers in his grip and Zander’s derogatory commentary humming at the edge of his mind. “Yes, I’m Ryan Sheridan. What can I do for you, Mr.—”

  The man wiggled his fingers out of Ryan’s grasp. “Ludwigzak.” He gestured to two women Ryan hadn’t noticed behind his girth and waved them forward. “This is Sara Gardener. She wrote the books this project is based on.” He grabbed the elbow of a stunning blonde to pull her closer. Apparently, she hadn’t been moving fast enough for his liking either. Ryan had the sudden urge to break the guy’s hand. “Sara, this is Ryan Sheridan, the hired…wolf whisperer.”

  She extricated her own limb with a sideways glare Ludwigzak was oblivious to and extended her hand forward. “Hello, Mr. Sheridan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”