Free Bad Moon Rising by Loribelle Hunt Page B

Jones’ face flashed in front of her before the world went dark.

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    60

    Loribelle Hunt

    It was late afternoon when she woke. It took her a moment to remember what happened. Lying motionless, she tried to breath as if she was still knocked out, and cracked her eyes open enough to peak around.
    She was on a narrow cot pushed against the back corner of what appeared to be a one‐room cabin about twenty‐five by twenty‐five feet. She was alone. Standing, she grabbed her pounding head and stumbled to the closest grimy window. Wiping it with the edge of her shirt, she peered outside. Woods. Unfamiliar woods at that. She could be in any hunting shack in south Alabama. Damn.
    She started for the front door. It flung open before she reached it, and she shrank back. Bradley Jones stalked in and she unsteadily retreated until the backs of her legs once again hit the bed. Flinging the door closed behind him, his eyes flickered over her, but he didn’t utter a word. Instead he carried a grocery sack to the kitchenette on the opposite wall and unloaded a six‐pack of Coke and some deli sandwiches. He set two of each on the small table and nodded at her.
    “Sit. Eat.”
    Her stomach rebelled at the thought. Whether from the hit on the head or her current circumstances she didn’t hazard a guess. Rather than anger him, she walked to the table with ginger steps, careful not to jar her pounding head. Once seated, she reached for one of the subs and unwrapped it. Jones dove into his while she picked hers apart. Expecting to need energy to get away, she tried to force her usual hearty appetite to appear. She nibbled some of the ends and popped the top of the Coke.
    She wondered where Trey was. Probably freaking out by now and looking for her. He better hurry. She wasn’t waiting around for him to come to the rescue. Her instincts were screaming at her to get away now and for once, she was confident they were right.
    Glancing up, she caught Jones staring at her. His eyes were too bright and he was a little ripe, but otherwise he looked normal.
    “You don’t look like him,” he said.
    She blinked in confusion. “Like who?”
    “Your grandfather. Jack Wilder.”
    “My grandfather was Jack Duveau.”

    61

    Bad Moon Rising: Lunar Mates Book 2

    He snorted. “Don’t be stupid girl. You had to know what he was, and I’m sure your mate checked it out. And came up with nothing.”
    She inhaled sharply, curiosity warring with the need to flee. Was he just guessing or well informed? And why was he talking about Jack like he knew he was dead? They didn’t even know that for sure.
    “You knew my grandfather?”
    He laughed, the sound grating like nails on a chalkboard, and the hair on the nape of her neck stood on end. His eyes looked wild, and she realized he was insane or so close to it the difference didn’t matter.
    “I can take you to him,” he said slyly. “Maybe I will after I take care of Trey Williams. No one said you had to live”
    And she knew what happened to Jack. “You killed him.”
    “Of course,” he said, grinning evilly and spreading his arms wide.
    “This town wasn’t big enough for the both of us. For such a famous Hunter, he was very easy to kill.”
    She gasped, shocked at the hurt that speared her heart. He’d sucked as a husband. So what? He was still her grandfather. She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and lurched, gagging, to the sink. Turning the tap on, she scrunched over and stuck her mouth under the faucet, gulping water and spitting it out.
    She rested her elbows on the edge of the sink and hung her head, taking deep breaths. A flash of blue caught the corner of her eye and she canted her gaze to see an old‐fashioned porcelain teapot. Behind her she sensed as much as heard Jones move and knew her time was limited. The idea flew through her so fast she didn’t stop to consider it. Grabbing the handle of the pot, she spun as Jones leapt. In slow motion she saw the round