Bad Moon Rising

Abby

I was on tiptoe against the metal racks, the blunt edge of the shelf in front of me biting uncomfortably into my chest. Just as my fingertips brushed the cardboard box, the dingy lightbulb dangling from the ceiling above me went out with a pop.

"Goddammit," I muttered.

I brushed an errant curl back behind my ear, carefully making my way back down the ladder. The decorations would just have to wait - no way was I going to try and pull that stuff down in the dark.

"Mac!" I called.

Climbing up the cellar stairs, I pushed open the door and stepped over the threshold into the hall.

"Bulb's out again."

Mac grunted. I walked down the short hallway and back into the main barroom. The bar was a long rectangle, with a L-shaped bar against one wall, lined with leather-topped stools.

My uncle was currently sitting on one, smoking a cigarette as he went over invoices. I slid onto a stool next to him and playfully nudged his arm. I was no stick - had too much in the boobs and butt for that - but next to Mac's solid bulk, I was tiny.

"Thought you were trying to quit."

"What, paying bills?" He took another drag. "Be nice if I could."

"Smoking, smartass."

"Yeah, I'm working on it. Thought you were supposed to be getting your Halloween s**t out."

"Can't. Light bulb's out. Can't see s**t, and it's not like I've got your height. I can't just pull it down."

This was true. At five-seven, I was relatively tall, but Mac was six-four in his bare feet. Taller when he wore his steel-toed leather boots, as he was now. He looked like a biker, or maybe a truck driver, and he'd been both in the past. He had shoulder-length gray hair, a thick beard, and a big, powerful build. He looked mean as hell, and he certainly could be, but with me, he was more like a grumbly teddy bear.

He was my uncle and had had custody of me since I was barely a year old. Nearly twenty years later, we were still the only family each other had or wanted. I'd been helping Mac around the bar since I was ten. The locals knew our situation, so no one ever made a fuss over it, not even the cops. They all knew that I had no one else to look after me, and nowhere else to go.

Business had been slow tonight, so Mac had already sent Shelly and Jackson - our two part-time employees - home early.

Bored, I walked over to one of our two pool tables to see if anything needed put away. I was leaned forward, adjusting the racked balls in the middle, when I heard the bells above the door chime.

"Be with ya in a minute!" I called. "Have a seat wherever you like."

"Aye, take your time, lass," a deep voice replied, sounding amused.

Irish? Or Scottish - hard to tell.

He sounded sexy, though. I straightened, wiping my hands off on my back jean pockets. I turned around with a ready smile.

I was mildly surprised to see not one, but four men gazing at me from one of the four-tops.

No way were these guys from around here. Ours was a little burg, a good half-hour away from the nearest city, and I was positive I'd have noticed men like these.

They were tall, that was obvious, and very muscled in their arms and chests. Early to mid- thirties, was my best guess on age. All four were dressed in T-shirts and jeans, with elaborate tattoos going up their arms. I couldn't tell the designs, but one of them had the edges of another tattoo partially hidden on the left side of his neck.

There were two blond guys - one with short hair and light stubble, the other with long hair pulled back into a ponytail. There was a redhead with a neatly trimmed goatee, his green eyes never leaving my face.

The fourth man was in charge, and the one who had spoken to me. How I knew either of these things, I had no idea, but I knew it all the same.

He had black hair pulled back in a leather thong at the base of his neck, a light stubble covering his jaw, and the most gorgeous blue eyes I'd ever seen - so light and bright that they reminded me of that actress from They Live and Leviathan. They were nearly silver, they were so light. His eyes never left mine as his smile widened slightly.

I realized I was practically gawking at them, and flushed a little. Smoothing down the sides of my tank top, I fixed what I hoped was a professional smile on my face and walked over to them.

"Evening, gentlemen. What can I get you?" I asked brightly as I stopped in front of them.

Blue Eyes smiled. But as gorgeous as he was, my heart had started pounding, and not from embarrassment. I felt my palms start to sweat, and I wiped them down my back pockets again.

Something's off here.

I couldn't say why, or how, but it was. The hairs on the back of my neck raised, and I suppressed an urge to shiver.

"What's your name?" he asked, ignoring my question.

"Uh, Abby. What's yours?" I returned, trying to make it sound playful.

Get ahold of yourself, girl.

"Declan," he said. "And this is Torin...Rowan..and Liam."

Liam was Long Blonde. Rowan was the redhead, and Torin the short-haired blonde.

It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance,cailin," Liam said softly, in the same accent as Declan's.

" S- uh, same here. What can I get you?" I tried again, feeling sweat run down my back. "Kitchen's closed, but I can get you anything else -"

"Anything?" Torin interjected.

A slight grin, as he made no effort to hide that he was checking out my body. I took a slight step back without even thinking about it.

"You sure 'bout that?"

"Enough."

I jumped, a sharp gasp escaping. I looked over my shoulder to see Mac striding out of the hallway and across the barroom floor. He must've been in the back when Declan and company came in.

One look at my uncle's face told me two things in an instant - he was pissed, and he was scared. The latter unnerved me even more than these men did.

I was yanked backwards so hard, I nearly lost my balance. Mac was in front of me in an instant, forming a protective human wall between the strangers and me.

I couldn't see much around him, but there was no misreading the tension in my uncle's back and shoulders. He took a step backwards, forcing me to do the same.

"Abby, you need to leave," Mac said calmly. "Go on, babe. Out the back."

"Now why would she go and do something like that?" Rowan asked with mocked surprise.

All four of them were now up and out of their seats. I got enough of a peek around Mac to see that they were all, indeed, tall as Mac or even taller.

"She's going to leave," Mac said, taking us another step backwards. "Right now."

He slipped something out of his back pocket, pressing it into my right hand. My fingers closed around cool metal.

I didn't look down, not wanting to draw suspicion, but I knew without looking what it was. Mac's silver butterfly knife.

I had one of my own - a gift from Mac on my last birthday - but mine was upstairs. Still, I knew that Mac knew I was able to use it. My pulse quickened even more.

"Careful, now, fealltóir," Rowan said softly. "You interfered once. Would've thought you'd lost enough to know better than to stand in our way again. Or were the loss of your own not enough?"

"Mac, what's he talking about - " I started.

"Abby, GO!" Mac roared.

He shoved me once, hard, backwards, nearly knocking me on my ass. Almost in the same instant, he lunged towards the four strangers with all his might.

That's when all hell broke loose.