Accepting the Moon: Prequel (Moonrising Book 1) by K. S. Haigwood Page B

the pouring of the sweet, burning poison.
    He smelled the approaching human before he heard her voice, and his lips curved up at the corners as she took the seat beside him. It appeared she was going to make it easy for him.
    “I haven‘t seen you in here before. You from out of town?” the female voice shouted over the noise pollution.
    Not really, but he couldn‘t hunt in the same area too often or eyebrows would start to rise. He wasn‘t about to tell her any of that, though.
    “I‘m visiting a friend,” Jaxon shouted back as he turned his head, flashing his million dollar smile at the girl. She looked to be in her early twenties, pretty, bleached-blond hair, maybe a little too thin and a bit over the top in the make-up department, but she would do. He didn‘t want her body, after all.
    He offered her his hand to shake, but when she took it, he brought her knuckles up to his lips for a tender kiss, keeping eye contact with her the whole time.
    She swooned, and he grinned as he released her fingers.
    “Is your friend here at the club?” She glanced to his other side, obviously making sure there wasn‘t another woman sitting there that had already staked her claim on him. She smiled when she found the spot empty.
    To her obvious delight, Jaxon shook his head. “I‘m Brandon,” he lied. “And you are?”
    She sighed heavily as her eyelashes fluttered and her glossy eyes focused on his. “Yours for the night, if you‘ll get me away from all this noise and smoke. I wasn‘t quite expecting,” she winced and cupped her hands over her ears as she shouted, “this. My friends insisted we come see The Fighting Tarsier .”
    He grinned and ran his fingers lightly over her knee. She inched closer, encouraging the forward gesture. “Your place?” Jaxon said.
    She grimaced in what appeared to be actual pain. “I live with my parents.”
    Jaxon‘s lips flattened into a tight line as he wondered if she was really even old enough to be in a club. His head jerked once in the direction of the exit sign. “I‘ve got a room at a motel a few blocks from here. C‘mon.” He stood, grabbed his jacket from the back of the stool and led her through the crowd of jumping bodies. He was sure he had never seen dancing quite like that before, not in the last two centuries anyway, and never in the United States.
    She appeared to be delighted with the idea of leaving the club with a total stranger, but Jaxon honestly couldn‘t care less about where she placed her standards. He only needed one tiny, meaningless thing from her, and then he would send her on her merry little way.
    “Do we need a cab?” The blonde asked as they stepped out into the frigid January air.
    Jaxon shook his head. “If you don‘t mind the cold and a little bit of misty rain for a mile or two, we can take my bike. The motel is about ten or twelve blocks that way.” He nodded to the west, toward the bad side of town, and Blondie, all of a sudden, didn‘t look all that enthused about leaving with him anymore. She glanced longingly toward the street and a passing cab.
    He closed the distance between them and lifted her chin with one of his fingers, turning on his charm. “It‘s safe. I promise no harm will come to you. You can trust me.”
    She nodded once, then took his hand and let him lead her around the corner of the club to the alleyway.
    Jaxon could have taken what he needed from the girl then and there, but the risk of being seen was too high and, as second in command under Phoenix, he couldn‘t afford to screw things up… again.

    The slight drizzle had become a downpour by the time Jaxon parked his bike at the motel he used for special occasions, such as this one.
    It wasn‘t the Ritz-Carlton, or even a Motel 8, but there weren‘t any cracks under the door and the roaches were pretty small. He never stayed more than half an hour, so spending the thirty-eight dollars for four walls out of sight suited him just fine. He wasn‘t the only