The Devil's Moon (The Road Devils Motorcycle Club 6)

Prologue Limon Correctional FacilityLimon, Colorado Eleven years agoNala Porter fumbled with her purse, trying to find her wallet so she could have her ID to hand. It never ceased to amaze her how she could put something right at the top of the damn bag, just right there, and how the object promptly disappeared into it, like it had just gracefully dived into an ocean’s murky depths.She wasn’t really paying attention to her surroundings, since she was focused on sifting through the junk that seemed to just appear without any effort on her part, and anyway, she was seriously distracted by the news that had been confirmed just that morning. She was happy about it – thrilled, actually – and she hoped that her husband would be, too, despite the present circumstances, which were, admittedly, less than ideal.The autumn colors on her journey down from Denver had been spectacular, all gold and orange and red, and had just amped her mood up ever higher. It was an easy ninety minute drive

Prologue continuedRight away, she knew that was exactly the wrong thing to say. Wheels lunged at her again, and he made impact so hard that the back of Nala’s skull slammed into the brick wall behind her, pain bursting hot and white across her vision as the world tilted sickeningly sideways for a moment. For several disorienting seconds, all she could hear was the high metallic ringing in her ears and the ragged sound of her own breathing.When her vision cleared again, his face was inches from hers. Not shocked, not confused.Enraged.“You fucking what?” he hissed.The words came out low and lethal, the kind of tone that made instinct kick in before logic ever could, and Nala felt terror move through her bloodstream so fast it almost made her nauseous. Every survival instinct she possessed screamed at her to take it back immediately, to laugh nervously and tell him she’d made a mistake, that she wasn’t pregnant at all, that she didn’t know why she’d said it…But it was already too l

Prologue continuedNala's hands shook so violently she could barely hold the pen he shoved at her. Tears blurred the words across the pages until the legal jargon became meaningless black smears against white paper, but none of it really mattered anyway. This wasn’t law, this wasn’t procedure. This was coercion dressed up in paperwork. This was survival.Nala stared blindly at the signature line while grief rose inside her so fast it became almost impossible to breathe around. She didn’t want this. God, she didn’t want this. She loved Cole with a depth that still startled her sometimes, loved him despite the club and the violence and the danger and all the things she had spent years trying not to look at too closely. She loved the rough scrape of his voice first thing in the morning, and the absentminded way he kissed her forehead while passing through the kitchen, and the softness he only ever showed when nobody else was looking.She loved him enough that this felt like dying.And m

Then something inside of her went very still. Not calm, something older than calm. Something merciless.The Greeks had called them the Furies: female creatures born from blood and vengeance, monstrous women who hunted the wicked without rest or mercy. Nala remembered learning about them in college once and thinking the mythology seemed absurdly dramatic. Now she understood, though, because motherhood had made her ancient too. Protective in ways that no longer felt entirely human.Nala slid silently from the dumbwaiter and reached for the heavy marble rolling pin sitting in the crock beside the stove. Her fingers wrapped around the smooth cold weight of it, grounding her instantly in the simplest possible truth.Weapon. Tool. Survival.For eleven years, she had built a life around the idea that if danger ever came for Luna, Nala would be ready, but she knew she would not be fearless. Fear was alive inside her right now, huge and clawing and vicious, but fear had never made her weak. F

At about one o’clock in the morning, Cole stood outside Satan’s Bar with a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers, staring up at the cold Colorado sky. The engagement party for Ice and Vixen was carrying on, and shook the building behind him hard enough that he could feel the bass through the brick wall against his back.All this engagement stuff had him thinking about his wedding to Nala.Not that there had been much of a wedding, honestly, not in the way people meant the word. No church, no flowers, no hundred guests eating dry chicken and making speeches nobody asked for, no women in matching dresses or stupid centerpieces or any of the expensive nonsense Nala had dismissed as “financially irresponsible performance art”.They had gotten married at the courthouse on a Tuesday afternoon. Simple. Private.Perfect.Nala had worn a cream-colored dress that hit just above her knees, her curls loose around her shoulders, her eyes bright in a way that made Cole’s chest feel too full