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Four Moons: The Complete Collection: (Books 1 - 4) Page 3
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Man, he looked so good as always. Dark skin, awesome fades in his hair, vibrant green eyes, dressed in a tan leather jacket, jeans, and a white tee. I wanted to lick him.
I went for frosty. “What’s it to do with you?”
He pushed himself off the wall. “It makes you look like a fool.”
“And you’d know all about being one of those.”
He chuckled lightly. “Stop trying to best me.”
“Stop stalking me, then.”
He sighed. “That old chestnut.”
Gabriel. Beta of the High Alpha. Official shadow by decree of my dad. He was always watching, always reporting to my dear papa about my adventures.
It started to rain.
“I’m going home,” I said.
“Good. My car’s on Edgware Road.”
“Great. My bike’s back that way.” I gestured toward Oxford Street.
Gabriel licked his lips before speaking—a move that could have my jeans and underwear falling to the floor if I didn’t know any better. “After that mess?”
“You were there?”
“Yeah.”
“Didn’t think to step in and help, then? Geezers too big for you?”
He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. “Seems like you had a handle on things.”
“Yeah, I always do.”
The werewolf shook his head. “Let me drive you back to your bike, at least. I don’t want you going on foot.”
“You’re not my beta, bruv.”
“I’m looking out for you.”
“Right.”
Different night, same verbal dance with Gabriel that’d gone on for two years.
“You know I am, Akira. Stop being difficult all the damn time.”
I gave him my best frown. “Stop being bossy.”
“Just come with me.”
I had three choices. Walk back down Oxford Street and get myself into another fight along the way—that wasn’t the whole of the gang I’d slaughtered. Secondly, I could take a stroll down Edgware Road and work my way back to my bike, taking the mega-long way back, but still run the risk of getting jumped as some of the higher up gang peeps would have city passes. Finally, I could be really sensible and just get in Gabriel’s blue Mercedes with the sexy black leather seats.
That car was so lush!
Keeping up the game of insolence, I gave in. “Fine. Hope no one’s smashed the windows.”
I genuinely hoped they hadn’t, but I had to make it sound bitchy because that shit kept him on his toes.
He shook his head and headed off. I followed him, drinking in the way his jeans hugged that sweet arse. It was the juiciest peach I wanted to devour. And his back, encased in clothing, was all rippling muscles under there—a ripped body that was the perfect balance of strength and extreme hotness.
The temperature went up some. I pulled on the collar of my tee to get some airflow on my chest.
Gabriel. Pure sex on legs with the manners of a true gentleman.
Mr. Perfect Package would make an awesome husband one day for a guy who went for all that happy-clappy shit. I just settled for appreciating the aesthetics of a well put together werewolf beta.
My boner was raging to be free from the confines of denim.
Wait, I told it.
****
I slid into the passenger of the Merc. It smelled of leather and Gabriel. And the seat was heaven on my backside. The werewolf started the engine and tore off down the road.
No windows were harmed.
“So, who was the mark this time?” Gabriel asked.
I told him about Frank Paulson. “No loss to the world,” I added on the end.
“No,” he agreed. “Would you like to grab a coffee?”
I looked at the clock on his dashboard. It was almost midnight. “Not really.”
“Okay.”
We were coming up Marylebone Road. “How you been?” I hadn’t seen him for two days since he’d had to go to some conference thingy in Scotland with my dad.
“Good thanks, Aki.” He was the only one I’d let call me that. “It was a quiet one, but I managed to get myself a first edition of Dr. Zhivago from a cool little bookshop in Edinburgh.”
“Sweet, bruv.”
“Good condition too.”
“Sick.”
Gabriel was into collecting rare books, first editions—all that stuff.
“What about you?”
I looked out of the window as two drunk pixies flew by, leaving a trail of pink glitter in their wake as they made a few wobbly loops. The tiny creatures were green when in their normal states, red when pissed off, blue when sad, and pink when pickled. They were annoying drunks.
“Got some cookies for you to try,” I said. “Salted fudge and dark chocolate.”
“That’s great. When do I get to try them?”
I faked a yawn. “I’m pretty tired. You cool to take me home? I’ll get my bike tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll give you some cookies.”
He gave me a quick look. “Thank you.”
“Thank me if you like them.”
****
We rolled up outside my flat on Grays Inn Road—the café below long closed for the night.
Gabriel killed the engine. “Shall I wait here?”
“Don’t be daft. Come up.”
“Okay.”
He got out and made to try and open my door for me. I beat him to it.
“Save that for someone who appreciates it. I like getting my own door.”
He chuckled and shook his head in exasperation.
Me and G—I called him G—had a weird relationship where I gave him grief and provided baked goods with a snarl. Sometimes, we were like best buddies, the next, we’d have a bicker, and I’d get all prickly on his arse.
The road was quiet, save for a few cars rolling by as a miserable drizzle came down from the heavens.
Well, it was a Tuesday. Not much for the nightlife this part of the week.
I pulled out my keys and opened my green front door. I headed up my carpeted stairs and into my pocket of the happy.
My flat was small—a living room, bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom—and perfect for me. Nothing fancy, all my furniture old and worn and antique. Nothing matched, and my walls were green and white, my carpets blue—apart from the mock stone lino tiles in the kitchen and bathroom. I didn’t give two flying fucks. I loved it, all of it. Having old stuff meant that it was built to last, seeing as it was still going. New crap was thrown together and grossly overpriced.
I hung up my keys and went to the kitchen—my favorite room in the flat—and flicked on the light. Wooden countertops, country house sink, pine round table with two mahogany chairs, and my window box with well-kept pansies growing merrily away—a slice of heaven just for me.
Gabriel’s car keys jangled in his hands as he hovered in the doorway. I took out my packet of chocolate raisins from my blue jacket pocket, popping some in my gob.
Removing the foil covering the cookies, their sweet scent was unleashed to tickle my nose. Ah, so bloody good.
“What you lurking for, G?” I asked over my shoulder.
“I’m being polite.”
“The fuck? Why? How long have you been coming here?” I turned to face him. “Just sit down, you fuckhead.”
His green eyes glinted with the gold sparks of a wolf, a smile creeping up on his handsome features. “Always the charmer.”
I put a cookie on a plate and took it over to the table he’d just sat down at.
“Here.”
“Thanks, Aki.”
I waited for him to try it.
“Oh, my!” he proclaimed with his mouth full.
“Good.”
“Soooo good!”
I smiled, nodding. “Then, my work is done.”
G swallowed, licking a crumb off his lips. “You’re wasted. You really should give up all this hunting stuff and open your own bakery. Than
k the tenshi for blessing you with these skills.”
He told me that all the time. It was the dream, but I couldn’t manage it just yet.
I just shrugged.
The werewolf took another bite of cookie. When he was done, he said, “You need to be careful, avoid the slums for a bit.”
I got off the chair, making for the kettle. “I go where the money takes me.”
“You killed a lot of men there, Aki. Gang men.”
“They had it coming. Fancy a bevvie before you go? I’ve got toffee coffee.”
He cocked his head. “You said you didn’t want to go for a coffee.”
“Yeah, at some shithole all night place.”
“What’s wrong with those joints?”
Ugh. I couldn’t be bothered to argue my corner. “Do you want a drink or not?”
“Sure. As long as I can have another cookie.”
“You got it, bruv. Tea? Coffee?”
“Guess it has to be the toffee one.”
“Good choice, G.”
He sighed. “Seriously. There could be retribution. Violet Cross is running things in the slums now.”
Violet. The brand-new queen of the gangs since her dad, Jimbo, had been taken out by his rival in north London. She now had control of central and west, while Billy Knuckles ran the east and south slums. Pieces of shit, the pair of them, though I’d never met Violet. They generally stuck to their posh houses in the slums, but occasionally came out to play in other areas.
“She needs to keep a leash on her crew, then,” I responded.
“Be careful. What if I’m not around?”
“You don’t need to be.”
“I do.”
“Oh, yeah, ‘cos daddy says.”
“I care about your safety.”
I turned to face him, leaning against the counter as the kettle boiled. “Seriously? Might make your life easier if I wasn’t—”
“Don’t say stuff like that.”
“Why not? True, init?”
He shuffled in his seat. “No. Why would it be? We’re—”
“Don’t even say friends, G.” Here I went with the prickly. What the hell was my problem?
“But we are, Aki. I’m sitting in your flat eating some cookies and waiting for some toffee coffee. If that doesn’t make us friends, then I don’t know what else does.”
The water boiled. “And what if my dad suddenly takes you off the job?”
“Friends still visit friends.”
“Yeah, right.”
He shook his head. “Okay. Whatever.” G pushed his chair out. “I think I should leave.”
“Why? Thought you wanted a coffee.”
“Jesus. I don’t know why I bother.”
“Because you’re paid to.”
That got him frowning. “It’s going to be one of those moments?”
“Saves on the coffee beans.” Wow. What a bitchy motherfucker I was.
“Thanks for the cookie, Aki.”
“No worries,” I replied coolly.
“See you later.”
I nodded and looked away, listening to him head downstairs.
Yeah, weird relationship.
Sure, G was fuckable, but I wouldn’t sleep with him. Never. For starters, my dad would flip his lid. Secondly, he was just G—here to trail me over the city for my dad’s own reassurance. Not like I picked up the phone to speak to the fucking king of everything. Maybe now and then.
I wanted G to find himself a nice guy. He deserved it. He was the sort of bloke I could see with the family and the white picket fence shit. I wasn’t the type of guy to settle down with a man. Not in my line of work, and I just don’t think I was built that way anyway. Sharing my flat? Nope. Sharing my kitchen? Hell would have to have its own Ice Age before that happened.
Man, I was a wanker. I actually liked having him around. He always enjoyed my baking, and he was good to hang out with when I was in the proper mood to function on a sociable level. Was I just messing him around, though? Should I just tell him to watch me all he wants, do his job, and stay away from me? Had this being friends thing muddied the water too much?
At the same time, I couldn’t handle losing him, and that made me a fuckhead for my behavior sometimes.
I went to my kitchen window, which overlooked the street, watching Gabriel get back in his car. He paused, looked up, then got into his vehicle, slowly pulling away.
G wouldn’t go home until mega-late. He’d carry on watching for a while, even though I wouldn’t be able to see his car or him. Even when I sent out my babies to check, they came back cold most of the time. He wasn’t in his beta position for being anything less than hardcore. I mean, a beta had to protect the alpha, to be the number two, to kick arse better than anyone else.
It would proper piss me off if I had to follow the wayward son around instead of the big man. I wondered sometimes if G resented my existence a little bit. No one came for me ‘cos I was under the radar.
Nah, G didn’t get resentful. Anyone else would have, though.
My phone rang. “Want that coffee after all?” I spoke into it.
“I meant what I said, Aki,” G responded, “stay away from that area for now.”
“Don’t worry about me, bruv. I’m not stupid.”
In that moment, I wanted him to drive back and come sit with me. Just ‘cos.
“I know you’re not. Promise me you’ll stay in tonight.”
“I promise. You can go home.”
He sighed down the line. “I wish.”
“Seriously, G. I’m not messing. I’m having a cuppa, then hitting the sheets. Not leaving the flat tonight. I’ll clean my blades tomorrow.”
That was kind of the truth.
“Don’t worry about me,” he replied, “just make sure you keep your promise.”
“If I get killed, it wouldn’t be your fault.” The words just fell out.
He took a moment to answer. “Goodnight, Aki. Save me some of those cookies.”
“Got the cravings?”
“You know it.”
“You’re only round the corner, come back and get some.”
“No. Maybe tomorrow. What’re your plans?”
“I’ll surprise you.”
He groaned. “I’m sure you will.”
“All this phone chat, and you could’ve stayed for a coffee.”
“You’re too much tonight. I can’t be bothered.”
“Rude!”
He chuckled. “Sleep well, Aki.”
G hung up.
Ah, man. At least the air was clear again. Sort of.
****
So, I’d been kind-of telling the truth to my shadow/wannabe bodyguard/mind-fuck friend. I did have a cuppa, the toffee coffee really hitting the spot, and I was planning on hitting the sheets.
Someone buzzed my front door.
I lifted the receiver. “Come up. Door’s open.”
Ten seconds later, a tall human guy was in my flat.
His name was Harry. Messy black hair, olive skin, amazing blue eyes, and he was taking off his coat to reveal a slender body encased in a navy polo shirt.
I couldn’t wait to take it off.
My dick needed some action. Sex was an awesome release, especially with a stranger. Candy Boys was my hook-up app of choice every time I needed to scratch my itch.
“Alright?” Harry, the stranger, asked me in a strong London accent.
I took off my T-shirt, letting him get a look at some skin. “Not bad. Yourself?”
He pulled off his top to reveal smooth skin and two nipple piercings. “Yeah. Good.” He went for his belt. “Wanna fuck here or on something softer?”
“This way.” I gestured toward my bedroom.
****
It was three in the morning when Harry, the stranger, left me lying naked on my bed, watching the moonlight ripple on my ceiling.
He’d been a great fuck, a man of few words, riding my cock like he was at a derby.
I did
love a hungry bottom.
The horny itch had been scratched, but I was miles from crashing.
I took a shower, washing away the last remnants of my one-night stand, hoping the hot water would relax me, but not holding my breath.
Being right sucks, so I slipped on some shorts and a vest, and made my way to the kitchen.
Time for a bake. When things were shit, or I needed an escape, I turned to baking. Even a good shag couldn’t quite bring me joy like whipping up a batch of whatever could.
My latest invention I was still working on perfecting was my chocolate and raspberry brownies. I was almost there with the flavors, but I wasn’t a hundred percent happy with the results yet. It was the raspberry jam crystals running through the middle that were giving me some grief.
No worries, though. Baking was my thing. Hunting was my job, making yummy goodies was my passion, my reason for being put on this Earth. We all have a thing. Shame I couldn’t put job and thing together to form a big whole.
Before I got down to it, though, I pulled out a gold candle from my drawer and my copy of the holy text (天使の書), bound in white leather. The tenshi candles were gold, and all had the same mark carved into the wax in white, the holy book embossed with the same symbol in gold.
祈り
Prayer. That’s all that needed to be on there.
I lit the wick and said my words in Japanese, thanking the tenshi for another day. Didn’t matter how crap a day it was. I always had to send my thankful prayers to our makers with one hand placed on the book, my focus on the candle’s flame.
Finished, I blew out the candle and put away the book, getting down to business.
It didn’t take long before the mixture was ready and placed in the oven. I licked the spoon as brownies baked, looking out of my kitchen window and obviously seeing no sign of G.
The rain was really starting to come down now.
Sleep was still a shit-load of miles away.
Chapter Four
The sun was out, streaming through my bedroom window.
Ah, fuck. I’d forgotten to pull my blackout curtains.
I covered my eyes with my arm, waiting for a bit until my legs swung over the side of the bed. No point in closing the curtains to then not fall back to sleep. Once I was up, I was up.
What I wouldn’t give for a good eight-hour kip just once in my life.