"What do you mean?"

"That’s the second moon in one month. In the old days, it was a powerful omen."

Samantha chuckled. "You’re so full of it, sis. What do you know about omens?"

"I told you, Sam, I’m really into this Wicca stuff. We know these things. And if you’d just loosen up a bit, you’d be into it, too." Jane grinned at her.

They reached Jane’s car and she leaned over and gave Sam a kiss on the cheek.

"Same time, next month?" Sam asked.

"Same bat time, same bat channel." Jane laughed and got into her car.

Sam waved goodbye to her baby sister. The car’s headlights came on and the engine came to life, Jane gave her a last wave and pulled away. Sam walked to her car in the deserted lot, hit her remote, and slid inside. This was their half-way place, located between their homes, splitting the distance between two states. They’d stayed very late this time, catching up on their lives, and both had a long drive ahead of them.

As her lights came on, Sam looked out through the windshield and saw the man. She had no idea where he’d come from, but he stood there now, illuminated by the headlights of the car. She hit the door locks and fumbled to insert the key.

He grinned at her. In one long, heart-stopping glance, she took in his long, scraggly hair, old t-shirt, blue jeans and a tattoo on his bare arm. All he was missing was the chain saw. Her car started and relief flooded her.

He raised his hand as if to salute her.

Sam threw the car in reverse and backed away, slinging gravel. The man strolled over to a motorcycle, swung one leg over, sat, and then kicked it on. She could hear the revving of his engine as he gunned it. She pulled onto the highway and headed back towards her motel on the outskirts of the small town twenty miles away.

Looking behind her, darkness filled the rear window. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she shook out the tension in her shoulders and slipped a cd into the player. Soft music filled the cabin of the car, and Sam sat back in the seat.

You’re way too jumpy, she told herself. Lately, instead of being the calm, confidant woman she’d been, she’d been feeling vulnerable, unsure and on edge. Her husband Robert had finally admitted the truth, that he never wanted to have children, and they’d divorced, leaving her life in ruins.

They’d discussed kids while dating, and he knew when he married her that they were in her plans. Now, after four years of avoiding the subject and evading her questions, he’d come clean. If she wanted him, it’d be without children. She’d had to chose.

She’d stood by what she knew she’d wanted from life and look where it had gotten her. She’d lost the man she loved and whom she thought had loved her. Now, to her, their marriage had been a sham, based on half-truths and assumptions, leaving her wondering if she could trust herself or anyone else again.

As the car drove down the darkened highway, she glanced behind her and the blood in her veins went cold.

A single headlight followed her.

                             ***

Duke sat on the barstool at the end of the bar and nursed his scotch. He’d come to the bar to get a break from his house and the aching loneliness it held. Unable to stand the memories anymore, he’d put the house on the market.

Grace had been the most beautiful woman he’d ever known, so young and full of life. They’d only had two short years together before she’d been diagnosed with cancer. Then, she was gone, just like that, leaving him with a hole in his heart that felt as if it would never heal. His reason for living was gone, and not even his job as a cop could fill the void.

I’ll do it tonight, he promised himself. Drive down to the lake where they used to go in the summer. Grace would spread a blanket and they’d make love under the stars. Christ, he missed her, the way she felt in his arms, the touch of her hands, her scent.

The first year after Grace died, he’d struggled through his daily life, thinking it would get better, that the hurt would go away. But, he knew the truth. A wolf mates for life and when his mate dies, if he doesn’t find another soon, he dies too.

He wasn’t afraid to die, but this slow, inch-by-inch death was unbearable. This last year, the times he’d driven down to the lake in his truck and sat holding his Sig in his lap, a bullet in the chamber, were too numerous to count. For some reason, cowardice, hope, or fear, he’d never pulled the trigger. Just when he’d work up the nerve, hold the gun to his head, he’d hear Grace’s voice telling him to wait. Give it time.

Waiting sucked. Time wasn’t Duke’s friend, that’s for damn sure. It pulled at him, making him crazy, reckless at work, and when the moon was full, like tonight, he was downright explosive.

It was the driving need to mate. Once he’d met Grace that was it; his hound dog days were over. She was the only woman he’d wanted. Now, two years after her death, she was still the only woman he wanted. No one moved him. He was beginning to think he was dead below the waist. He was already sure his heart was dead.

Tonight, he would finish this drink, get in his truck, and go down to the lake.

It was time to stop waiting.

                             ***

Sam’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. He was still there, a single light in the distance. Calm down, she told herself. Think. You can do this.

With her cell phone sitting back in her motel room, she was isolated, on a dark country road, with a crazed biker following her. Oh, yeah, there was a full moon. A nervous giggle escaped her lips, and she bit back the next one.

"All I need is for it to rain." She scanned the night, but the sky was clear, stars were shining and the moon seemed to be following her.

The last place she should go was to her motel. It was the kind where you parked outside your room. He’d find her car and then…. And the lobby would be empty, it closed at ten p.m. and it was quarter to eleven.

Go to a well lit place, she told herself, a place with plenty of people and get help. Great, she thought, like she’d find a place on this god-forsaken backwoods road. The only lights she’d seen were the ones from the occasional on-coming car and the one that haunted her in the rearview mirror.

She kept going, and the road took a long curve. She almost wept with relief when she spotted the sign for the bar up ahead, "The County Line." She sped up, pulled into the parking area, sending gravel flying once again, and nosed the car into a spot just outside the door. Grabbing her purse, she got out of the car, locked it, and made a dash for it.

Stumbling, she tried to push the door open, but it wouldn’t budge. No, no, no, it can’t be closed. She looked up at the flashing neon sign. It was supposed to be open, so what the hell was wrong with the door?

As she leaned against it, the door opened out, knocking her to the side as a man exited. She stumbled, recovered, and dove for the opening before it closed. From the corner of her eye, way down the road she saw a single headlight round the curve.

Sam pulled the door shut, let her eyes adjust to the dark, and then headed to the bar. She leaned on it as the bartender approached.

"Do you have a pay phone?" She tried to control the tremor in her voice.

"Yeah, ‘round back. But it’s busted." The bartender shrugged. He looked at her and put down the towel he was using to wipe the counter. "You got car trouble?"

"No, I need the police."

He nodded. "You’re in luck. Got one of the county’s finest sitting right over there." He pointed to a man at the end of the bar.

Sam looked down the bar to the man. He was hidden in the shadows, but what she could see gave her the impression of a large, caged animal, pacing, power and strength building inside him, ready to erupt. This was a dangerous man.

Swallowing down her fear, she moved towards him. She needed a cop, and he was a cop, so he’d have to do. He leaned forward, one arm rested on the bar, his other hand held the empty glass. Just as she neared him, he put down the glass, and stood, as if to leave. He had to be six four if he was an inch and every bit of it was delicious, mouth-watering muscle clad in jeans and a black t-shirt.

"Excuse me. The bartender said you’re a cop." Sam bit her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. She’d held up until now and she did not intend to become a hysterical female at this point.

"I’m a cop." He had full, sensuous lips and a voice like deep, still water that surrounded her, encasing her in its timbre. He turned to her and froze.

A tremor of fear ran down Sam’s spine. Their eyes met as he looked down at her. Met and locked. She was held captive in his gaze, unable to move or speak, barely able to breath. She felt the heat rise on her cheeks and spread to the roots of her hair.

Steel grey eyes, under black eyebrows and matching black hair gone too long without a cut framed his face stared at her. Rugged didn’t describe it, chiseled wasn’t right either. The two melded into the sexiest man she’d ever seen in her life. At that moment, she couldn’t have strung a sentence together if her life depended on it, and it did. Boy, was she in trouble.

Another ripple of desire shot through her.

Duke looked at the woman next to him, tall, but not too thin, curved in all the right places a woman should be curves, and supported by long legs. Her voice had stopped him on a dime. Rich, alto, yet he could hear the barest tremble.

He inhaled. He could smell the fear on her, coconut shampoo, and her body had a scent that drove him wild.

A low growl escaped his tight throat and he fought for control. He wanted to nip her as he chased her through the woods. The hairs on the back of his neck and his arm rose.

Sam took a step back and he caught her wrist. "Are you in trouble?" Nothing brought out his wolf like his mate in danger. There was no creature on earth more protective or more dangerous. No one messes with the mate of a werewolf.

Sam didn’t even try to break his grip, it was like a steel band around her wrist, yet the way his fingers touched her was surprisingly intimate. "There is a man following me. On a motorcycle. I didn’t want to go back to my motel." She wanted to fling herself into his arms, bury her head against his chest, but she held herself back. Dear God, she thought, why am I thinking like this? What’s wrong with me?

"That was smart, but this wasn’t the best place to stop. You almost missed me." His eyes grew tender and he smiled. It was lop-sided, boyish, and one side of his tanned face rose to crinkle the skin at the corner of his eye. It dropped ten years off him and she adjusted his age from mid-forties down to thirty-five or six, about the same age as her.

"But, I didn’t. You were here." She wanted to rub her body all over his like a cat rubs up against your leg, purring low.

"I was waiting for you."

Somehow, Sam believed him. He had been sitting on this barstool, waiting for her to walk in that door. Fate, destiny, kismet, the hand of God, even the damned moon, she didn’t care which it was, but she knew everything that had happened tonight had brought her here to him.

The door to the bar opened and the man stepped in and waited in the entrance for his eyes to adjust.

"That’s him." Sam’s eyes locked on the man.

A low, rumbling growl came from Duke as pulled her behind him, putting himself between her and danger.

The man began to walk over and then sat at the bar, halfway down from them. He turned to her and gave her that same cocky salute.

"Sit down. I’ll handle this." Duke never looked at her, just kept his eyes on the biker.

Sam climbed up onto the stool and put her purse on the counter.

Duke strode up to the guy, stopped, and leaned close enough to bite the guy’s ear off. He dropped his hand onto the man’s shoulder. "Listen to me. You picked the wrong woman to frighten." His hand tightened. "She belongs to me and I’m a deputy sheriff. That means anything that happens to you from this point on is an accident. And I’ll be filling out the report. So, I suggest you get out of here, don’t look back and never come near her again." As he spoke, his hand squeezed harder and the man groaned. Duke could feel bones and muscles grinding together under his hand.

No one messed with a werewolf’s mate.

Sam couldn’t hear a word the cop said, but she knew it had to be something scary, because it was as if a stopper had been pulled in this dude’s feet and the color drained out of him, along with all the attitude and bravado he’d been sending her way. He slid off the chair and staggered out the bar. The bartender merely raised an eyebrow and then went back to wiping down glasses.

The cop returned to her side and ordered her a scotch.

"Drink this," he said.

Sam picked up the glass and her hand trembled. She took a quick swallow and felt the warm, amber liquid burn its way down her throat.

"I don’t think I have to worry about him, do I?" She looked up at him. He stood next to her in a protective stance, between her and the all the bad things in the world.

"No." Duke wanted to pull her to his body, but he held back. "Can I make sure you get to your motel safely?"

"That would be very nice. By the way, my name is Samantha Waters." She held out her hand.

He took her small hand in his large paw and enclosed it. "Duke Stevens." He didn’t let go and she didn’t try to take it from him. It just felt too damn good.

"Are you really a cop?"

"Yeah. A detective with the county sheriff’s office."

"Will you get in trouble for what you just did?"

"What did I just do?" He gave her a lop-sided dead sexy grin.

"I’m not sure, but it scared the bee-Jesus out of that guy."

"Oh, that." He shrugged. "Just let him know he was picking on the wrong woman." He gave a small depreciative laugh, and Sam’s heart caught. He looked so charming when he did that.

"Oh, that?" Her eyes took him in, memorized him, and her heart took him in and locked him inside. Sam closed her eyes, counted to ten, and opened them. He was still there and even that short moment he was gone from her sight was too long.

Good God, what is going on, she thought. It’s as if I’m bewitched, or something. And it hit her. This is what they mean when they talk about love at first sight.

Duke moved away, allowing her to slide off the stool. He laced her fingers in his and led the way to the door. Opening it, he checked the parking lot, and up and down the road, before he let her come out.

"My car is right here." She walked over to it.

"Get in and I’ll follow you."

She unlocked it and slid in. He waited by her car until she’d started it and was ready to go, then he trotted over to his F250, hit the remote and jumped inside. Firing it up, he drove up behind her as she pulled onto the road.

Duke leaned forward and pulled his Sig from the back holster he was wearing under his jacket and laid it on the passenger seat.

He had a reason to live, and she was driving the car ahead of his.