Beneath a Blood Moon Read Online Free PDF Page A

convulsing muscles, unable to open my eyes, and unable to do anything other than wait. I tried to count the seconds, but I hurt too much to concentrate for long. When I finally won some control over my body, all I could do was lie still and fight to catch my breath.
    I opened my eyes to darkness, which frightened a gasp out of me. I blinked, and when my eyelashes caught on material, I realized I was blindfolded. The fabric was so soft and plush on my skin I didn’t notice it until I tried to move my head and the cloth shifted. A glimmer of light peeked through a gap in the blindfold. The ringing in my ears drowned out all other sound, if there was any.
    I wiggled my fingers, and relieved I could move, I shifted my weight. My wrists were bound together in front of me, and the bristles of cheap hemp rope dug into my skin.
    My fear rose. I had been right to be afraid. I had been right to want to avoid my home.
    Because of my inability to stand up to Isabella, because of my foolish trust she knew best, I had doomed us both. Was my friend already dead because of me?
    All of the things I should have done rattled around in my head until I was smothered by the weight of my guilt and despair. Why hadn’t I protested more?
    I could have replaced my notes and my books. The costs of their replacements would have left me pinching pennies, but it was a price I could pay; I couldn’t afford losing Isabella.
    She was the only real friend I had, no matter how we had met—or that her friendship had been bought.
    Whoever had kidnapped me wasn’t very smart or was confident I wouldn’t escape. While my hands were bound, there was nothing preventing me from pulling off my blindfold, which I did. The bright light hurt my eyes, and squinting, I took in my surroundings.
    I was sprawled on a hardwood floor in a small room straight out of a Wild West cabin. A couch with gaudy floral print took up most of the space, accompanied by a saddle hung over a wooden rack and a bearskin rug. Isabella was bound next to me, and she was also blindfolded with her hands tied in front of her.
    Our kidnapper hadn’t bothered to bind our feet. I rolled onto my back, searching for any signs of anyone else in the room with us.
    All was quiet.
    Relieved, I examined the ropes binding my hands together. The knot was placed on the far side of my wrists, which would have made it difficult to reach with my teeth if I weren’t so flexible. Twisting my arms until they creaked in their sockets, I positioned the knot where I could get a good look at it and went to work.
    The hemp’s bristles made the process painful, and by the time I loosened the first loop, my lips were bleeding. I’d be picking hemp out for weeks, but if I could escape my ties, I might live long enough to worry about my mouth. After the first part of the knot came undone, the rest unraveled, allowing me to yank my hands free. I grabbed hold of Isabella’s wrists, attacking the knotted rope with my nails. It didn’t take long to release her. I saved the blindfold for last, and when I pulled it from her face, she stared at me with a dull, dazed expression.
    “Shh,” I hissed.
    Her eyes widened, and after a moment, she nodded. With her confusion written plainly on her face, she rubbed her wrists, staring around the room. “What happened?” she whispered.
    “I don’t know.” I sat up, grimacing at the throb in my side. I lifted my tank-top, staring at the pair of puncture marks and bruising marking my ribs.
    Isabella sucked in a breath, touching my side. “Taser.”
    “You too?”
    Grimacing, my friend reached up and touched the back of her head. “Someone hit me. I heard the crack and the thump of you falling. I tried to run, but it was too late.”
    Some people would have been offended by being abandoned, but I appreciated Isabella’s blunt honesty. I didn’t expect her to endanger herself, although her efforts hadn’t saved her.
    We were friends, but there were limits. Money couldn’t