Free Bloodstone by Nancy Holzner Page A

to the left, intent on getting around her. “I need to talk to Axel.”
    She growled again and dropped into a fighting crouch. Jesus, the full moon was still three weeks away and she was going into feral overdrive.
    “You want to challenge me? Fine.” I dropped my purse on the floor and shifted the sword to my right hand, ready to use it. I wouldn’t have minded two blades in a fight with a werewolf, but I wanted to teach her some manners, not kill her. Besides, it’s bad form to rummage through your purse for a dagger at the start of a fight.
    We circled each other. Someone cut the music. All I could hear was my heart thumping in my ears and the raspy breathing of my opponent—until Axel stomped over and got between us.
    Axel isn’t a guy you can easily ignore. Especially when he’s wearing his pissed-off expression.
    “No fighting.” The werewolf tried to dodge around him, but his massive arm blocked her. “You fight, you’re out. No refunds.”
    She pushed against his arm with both hands, snarling at me. Axel turned fully toward her, clamping his hands on her shoulders. A low, threatening sound issued from his throat. All at once, the werewolf relaxed. She dropped her arms, looked at the ground, and backed away.
    Axel’s not a werewolf, and he may not say much, but no one can beat him in a display of dominance.
    The room remained silent for a few seconds. Then someone called out, “A toast to Kiana!” Other voices joined in: “To Kiana!” “To Kiana!” “To the bride!”
    The werewolf who’d challenged me stood in the center of the room as everyone raised glasses to her. She lifted her gaze from the floor, broke into a wide grin, and grabbed a glass. “Let’s have some music!” she shouted, adjusting her tiara. Something started up, loud, with a heavy bass line I could feel through the floor. The male dancers gyrated, the female werewolves howled, and everyone went back to having a good time.
    I’d almost gotten into a bar brawl with a werewolf bride on the eve of her wedding. Another day in the life.
    Axel was back behind the bar, filling a row of plastic flutes with champagne.
    “Axel, I need to talk to you. It’s important.” I had to shout to be heard over the music.
    He kept pouring but nodded.
    “Juliet—”
    A redheaded werewolf in a green halter dress glared at me as she grabbed a glass of champagne from the bar. I didn’t want to shout. Wolves have sharp hearing. Even with the music blasting, I’d be broadcasting a bulletin about Juliet’s escape to everyone in the room. They might be out-of-towners, but they didn’t need to know Juliet’s business.
    I climbed onto the bar and, kneeling there, cupped both hands around Axel’s ear. He popped another champagne cork and poured as I spoke. I tried to sum up the situation as quickly and clearly as possible.
    “Juliet’s in trouble. The Goon Squad had her in custody in connection with that murder in D.C. A couple of powerful super-vampires killed some cops trying to kidnap her. She was chained to her cell with a silver shackle, and they almost cut off her leg trying to grab her. She’s hurt, and she’s not healing like she should. She needs a place to hide.”
    Axel stopped pouring. “Here?”
    “I couldn’t think of anywhere safer.”
    Axel pursed his lips behind his beard. He poured champagne into a flute, waited for the foam to die down, then topped it off. He filled three more flutes that way before he nodded.
    “Okay.”
    Relief flooded me. “She’s in the alley behind a pile of boxes, by your back door.”
    “Bartender! We need more champagne.” The redheaded werewolf was back, waving two glasses and looking impatient.
    He looked at the werewolf, then at me. At her, and then back at me.
    “You want me to tend bar.” A nod. “But Axel, I don’t know anything about bartending.” My taste ran to club soda and lite beer—the kind that comes in a bottle. They both taste about the same.
    He opened a fridge stocked