Bloodstone by Nancy Holzner

exactly what I’d done, then gave up. “Um, how?”
    “Ever since her engagement, Kiana has been a total bridezilla. Her mother stopped speaking to her weeks ago. She reduced her dressmaker to tears. She actually bit the caterer—the poor guy needed stitches.” She shook her head. “The trouble is, she’s not really all that dominant. Not by nature. It was stressing her out to be such a bitch.”
    Ah. The picture was becoming clearer.
    “Somebody needed to challenge her. But you just don’t do that to a mating female. She’s like . . . like a temporary queen. Everyone defers to her. But everyone also saves up their grudges and takes them out on the bride’s hide as soon as the honeymoon’s over. Kiana knew how much trouble she was headed for, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.”
    “So a challenge from me released the tension.”
    “Exactly.” She grinned, showing white, even teeth. “And you did it without spilling a drop of blood. Brilliant.”
    “Yeah, it always kinda sucks when a bachelorette party turns into a bloodbath.”
    The werewolf grinned again. “Now Kiana can relax and be herself. She’ll still have some fights to face a couple of full moons down the road, but a lot of us will let our grudges slide. We’ve got our friend back.” She got up and danced her way into the middle of the room.
     
     
    TEN MINUTES LATER, AXEL RETURNED. HE STOPPED AND stared at me, sitting at the bride’s table, wearing her tiara, and holding a bottle of my favorite lite beer, paid for by the bride. He turned to the bar, where Kiana was mixing a cocktail for one of her friends. “The champagne I paid for ran out, so it’s a cash bar now,” she called.
    Axel turned back to me and raised a shaggy eyebrow.
    “She said she was a bartender in college. I’ve been watching. She’s charging for the drinks.”
    He sat down across from me. His eyebrow seemed to have found a permanent home halfway up his forehead.
    “I, um, beat her in a challenge. Accidentally, kind of. There was no fighting involved,” I added quickly. “Just champagne.”
    Axel surveyed the room. The place stank of spilled champagne, but there was no broken furniture or bleeding patrons. Better than a typical night.
    “How’s Juliet?” I asked.
    “Safe.” He placed the silver shackle and chain on the table. A nearby werewolf glanced at it, shuddered, and moved away. “She said you’d need this.”
    “Can I see her?”
    He shook his head. “She’s resting.”
    Shit. Axel wasn’t going to let me into his apartment. As Juliet had said earlier, he never let anyone in. He was bending his usual rule to protect her, but his hospitality wouldn’t extend to me. I’d just locked Juliet away even farther out of reach than she’d been with the Goon Squad.
    And I still didn’t have any answers.
    “Axel—”
    He shook his head, and I knew there was no use arguing.
    “Okay, then tell her to call me as soon as she’s feeling better, okay? Tomorrow, no later. I really need to talk to her. Can you do that?”
    This time I got a nod.
    I removed the bride’s tiara and set it on the table, then stood. “Keep me posted about how she’s doing, will you? I’m worried about her leg. And thanks. I know you . . . um, value your privacy. I’ll try to move her to somewhere else that’s safe as soon as I can.”
    I wrapped the chain around my waist, picked up my purse, and moved toward the door.
    Axel’s big paw shot out and grabbed my arm. “Come back after sunrise.”
    I nodded. I didn’t know whether he’d let me see Juliet or whether he merely expected me to help clean up after these rowdy werewolves. Either way, I’d be here. Axel was good people—whatever species he was.

7
    WHEN I OPENED THE DOOR TO HIS APARTMENT, KANE looked up from his laptop screen. He sat on the sofa, feet on the coffee table, papers spread all around him. He’d rolled up his sleeves, removed his tie, and even undone the top buttons of his shirt. Mmm . Sexy