Hunter's Moon (7 page)

“Do you by any chance have any shoes that could fit me?” Gabriel inquired from the bathroom.

Kieran jumped at the sound of the cowboy’s voice, as though he had done something to be ashamed of. His emotions and sensations may have shorted out at Gabriel’s mere touch, but given a concrete task, his professionalism switched on immediately. Scanning the hideout, he searched both what he saw and what he remembered of his reserves to find shoes that could fit the big man.

“Yeah, yeah, I might have something, some old boots.”

“That would be great. Thank you kindly.”

There went the cool voice again, dripping like honey down to Kieran’s bone marrow, so deep within him he didn’t know if he would ever be able to get every trace of Gabriel out of his system. Hot and hard in his pants again, Kieran fought for control, closing his eyes firmly and digging his fingernails into his palms.

“I am not gay, I am not gay, I am
not
gay….” Like a holy mantra, he kept repeating the words over and over, praying for them to be true—though they felt wrong. Kieran had never desired a man. He had never even thought of a man in that way. Well, there was that mutual jerk-off session back in college with his roommate, but that didn’t make him gay. At least, that was what he insisted on telling himself. It had just been, um, casual friends doing… friendly things….
God, that sounds so hollow
.

The sound of running water cut off, and Kieran snapped out of his feverish, conflicted thoughts to step closer to the door, which was slightly ajar, and reached inside with his offering. “Here’s a towel and clothes.” Gabriel took them with a quick “thank you.”

Putting his mind onto other things, Kieran searched the room for the old hunting boots he had. They were three sizes too big for him, but then again, he used them for just that reason. If he needed to pretend he was bigger and heavier than he actually was, he used those boots with lead weights hidden in their soles. He found them stashed under one of the cots. They were worn, dirty, and scuffed, but they would do in a pinch.

“Got the shoes,” he called out, still kneeling between the cots.

“That’s wonderful. Thanks.”

Gabriel stood astride at the center of the hideout, drying his wet, short dark-blond hair with the towel, the brown sweats tight on his long, sturdy legs and riding low on his hips. Since he didn’t have the red T-shirt on, Kieran could easily see the entirety of his broad, muscular chest with its light dusting of hair and the thicker trail descending from his navel down beneath the waistband. Tanned skin, stout muscles, tall athletic body…. Why had Kieran never noticed the aesthetics of the masculine figure?

The compulsion overcame Kieran before his brain shut down his mouth. “Can I check and wash your feet? After the rough ride they’ve had….”

Gabriel stopped working his hair in midmotion, and his brown eyes widened in surprise. “Uh, it’s not really necessary. I’m a werewolf, and—”

“Please.” The pleading in his voice told Kieran he was navigating uncharted waters, and yet he could not steer clear for refuge.

Blinking hesitantly a few times, Gabriel dipped his gaze to the floor in a bashful way, and his long black eyelashes came down upon his high, sun-kissed cheeks like half-moon-shaped veils. Kieran’s cock stood up to applaud. Gabriel sniffed the air and looked up, astonished, and his head tilted to the side as if he was perplexed. When the cowboy licked his thin lips amid dark-golden stubble, Kieran was certain he would pop in his pants any second now.

“If you want.” Jumping guiltily, Kieran thought for a second Gabriel had read all the salacious fantasies in his mind, but he quickly set aside the ridiculous notion. Although… he didn’t in actuality know much about mythical beings aside from their offensive and defensive capabilities, so for all he knew, lycans could be telepathic.

As Gabriel closed the distance between them to sit on one of the simple cots, Kieran got up and headed for the bathroom, where the faint scents of juniper and rum from the soap lingered, tickling his nose. Closing his eyes for mental reinforcement, Kieran took a rustic, old galvanized-metal wash bucket, filled it with water that he hoped was a little warmer now than the tepid temperature it had been before, and went back to his cowboy.

Kieran actually had to stop midstep as that image arose in his head.
My cowboy? Gabriel is not my cowboy. He is not my anything
. Shuddering, he walked over to Gabriel, who sat on the cot. The man had brought his pant legs up to his knees and was leaning back, braced on his strong arms, looking comfortable and at ease. Yet, like a predator waiting for his prey to come to him, he watched intently and unwaveringly as Kieran came closer, laid down the wash basin, and knelt in front of it.

“Ready?” Without waiting for an answer, Kieran grabbed Gabriel’s left ankle carefully and placed his foot in the tub. Gabriel himself put in the other. Kieran got up, went to the bathroom to get some eucalyptus-scented body oil, and returned to his former position, feeling a strange and bewildering fluttering of butterflies in his stomach when he saw Gabriel wiggling his toes in the water playfully, like a happy child. Why did everything the man do call out to him so?

Putting a towel across his knee, Kieran took Gabriel’s left foot out of the water, rested it on his leg, and inspected the foot for cuts and abrasions. There were none.

“Told you.” The scolding, yet teasing, tone of Gabriel’s voice made Kieran’s heart jump.

Licking the dryness off his lips, he started rubbing at the foot in his lap. The skin was warm, soft, and a little wrinkly, and the muscles and tendons within were pliable. He added the lotion, and the slickness made the motions smoother and easier. Kieran was so out of his element he was practically on another planet. He had never in his life given anyone a foot rub, not even a girlfriend. Yet he continued, his fingers molding and kneading the flexible, yielding flesh. Here he was, searching for those sensitive spots that had Gabriel sighing low with pleasure. It was all too funny, but this had to be the most sensual and erotic experience of his life, he thought, and briefly imagined this was what insanity felt like.

Time seemed to stand still while with his nimble, strong fingers he sought and found all those hard knots of tension and popped them open until the big man lay limp and languid on the cot, his back against the gray wall, his eyes closed and his slack lips parted.

With an odd, pleased smile emerging on his face, Kieran moved on to the other foot and repeated the slow, meticulous attention he was lavishing on the cowboy.

Whenever he was with Gabriel, though, the compulsion to speak, to explain, to defend, to rise to the occasion was there, pushing the words out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “You know, I wasn’t lying when I said I am not a Shadow Chaser. I’m not one of them. I’m not on their payroll.” The awkward silence lasted but a few seconds.

“Does it matter?” Gabriel wasn’t accusatory, just neutral in his tone, and Kieran was forced to look up at the man’s brown eyes, the depths of which he couldn’t fathom. “The distinction you claim to be there, I mean. As far as I can see, the only difference between you and them is that they do it for a twisted ideology—while you do it for money.”

Kieran’s face heated with a mix of anger, frustration, and shame, and his hands stilled on the cowboy werewolf’s foot. “If that’s what you think, why did you come with me?”

Blankly, Gabriel looked away and shrugged. “What else could I have done? Stay there? Not really a viable option, that.”

Even though his gut was burning with the bile of guilt and rage, Kieran stared down stubbornly and resumed the foot rub. “Of course we know of them, the Shadow Chasers. We know what they’re about and what they’re like. Yeah, we have things in common with them. We too have separate mercenary units, like they have loose, individual cells with the only common thread being their ideology. We too take up arms and go up against monsters on a weekly basis. But unlike them, like you said, we don’t do it because we think you’re all evil. You’re a paycheck, that’s all.” Kieran looked at Gabriel, whose face was still blank. “Does that, in your opinion, make me better or worse than them?”

“Honestly?” Gabriel’s sharp, questioning gaze pierced right through Kieran’s defenses into his heart and soul. “I don’t know.”

Kieran was up on his feet in less time than it took for his heart to beat—and break. “Is this how it’s going to be with us? You judging me? Me disappointing you with every breath I take? Me never being good enough for— Never quite measuring up?” His fingers dug deep into his palms and he bit his lips to keep from saying anything more; he knew there’d be blood in his mouth and on his hands. “You know what?” The angry, belligerent, cruel curse words knotted in his throat. He let out a quick breath, shook his head frantically, and waved a hand through the air. “I’m going to check the perimeter. You do whatever the hell you like—just stay down here.”

Barely keeping the panic out of his almost-running steps, Kieran headed for the stairs and for the quiet of the air outside, knowing it wouldn’t be enough to calm him down anymore.

Chapter Four

G
ABE
watched Kieran rush to the ladder-like metal stairs and climb out so fast his movements were almost a blur. Sighing, he lifted his feet onto the cot and dried off the excess lotion, the whiff of eucalyptus strong and unmistakable, and pondered his next move. He knew full well he had hurt Kieran’s feelings, but he had to be honest. Kieran’s motives were still too much in the dark, just like his personality, his past, his whole life.

Now that the hatch was open, warm, humid air breezed in, and Gabe realized then that the air underground had been dry and cool. He missed it now that it was gone. He missed mountain air, the scent of grass out on the range, the evenings that lasted long and always held a touch of cold everywhere.

After putting on the red T-shirt and worn boots Kieran had given him, Gabe made his way outside. The sun hung too low and the view was too blocked by the trees for him to see the horizon, but despite it being early evening, the air was still heated. Shadows grew and a sanguine full moon rose up leisurely in the sky. There was a mild puff of wind from the river, where dark blue waters ran lazily, like a piece of night on earth. Herons, egrets, and cicadas were noisy as the day ground to a close; a snake slithered away from him down the riverbank to the grass by the water; and a coyote slipped into the bushes on the other side of the river. Smells of nature filled Gabe’s senses, and he inhaled deeply while standing in place. It wasn’t home, but in a way, nature would always be his home.

Yes, Gabe did hear Kieran moving about, checking the perimeter. At times there was a small hum of an electrical device being turned on, so Gabe assumed the guy was putting up alarms, sensors, or cameras. The man was a professional; he had to give him that at least.

But could Gabe give Kieran anything more? That was the question of the hour.

The sun went down slowly but surely and darkness enveloped the land. The air cooled, and the sounds and scents came through louder and stronger now. Gabe leaned against the cypress between the riverbank and the hut, relaxing as night and nature nurtured his troubled mind. The bark was splintered and sharp even through the layer of fabric, but it reminded him that even roses had their thorns for a reason.

Unaware of the exact amount of time that had passed, Gabe started when he was brought out of his mindless reverie by a furious voice calling out to him. “I told you to stay down below. Did you not fucking hear me?” Kieran’s face was contorted with rage, his fists clenched and his posture rigid as he stood there staring him down.

Gabe breathed in and out, but he had never felt less calm—and less like himself. “I did hear you. But I heard no one else here, and I needed to take a breath, so I—”

“A breath? Are you fucking kidding?” Kieran stepped closer, and the fury within him was palpable, about to explode. “The whole world is out to get you, and you decide to take a little stroll in the fucking moonlight? Are you
fucking
insane?”

Cussing aside, Kieran’s passion for Gabe’s safety came through crystal clear, and he felt ashamed at not having thought it through—which he almost always did. Except now, as his very angry mate stood before him, riled and geared up for a fight, Gabe felt completely off-kilter. He was unbalanced and struck silent.

Before Gabe could say a word, Kieran was on a roll. “Those things you said to that Adler woman. How it feels. The mating stuff. Is that how you feel too? Or is it just me?”

Gabe swallowed and coughed to clear his throat and gain some voice. “No. I feel it too.”

Kieran’s eyes flashed and narrowed. “More or less than me?”

He hated admitting it, but…. “More.”

That surprised Kieran, if his widening eyes and parting lips were any indication. Then he frowned, working himself up to his anger again. “Do you have any idea how frustrating this is? Not just you taking these stupid chances with your life when I specifically told you to stay hidden. No, I mean this… this… this
feeling
inside of me.” Kieran gave a frustrated chuckle, his grin twisted, his expression contorted like he was talking about a disease. “My body wants things it has never wanted before. I have… cravings. I want to do things with you and to you, and have you do things to me. I want to fall on all fours in front of you. I want you to stuff me full with your dick. I want you to bite me till I bleed.” Truly, he seemed confused at saying the words. “But, in my head, with the scraps of intellect this fucking bonding shit has left me to cope with, I know how incredibly insane that is!” Kieran tapped his own temple furiously, like he was trying to knock some sense into himself, and then the gesture shifted to the “crazy” twirl. “My mind knows my body is wrong, and now they’re fighting, and I’m fighting. And I’m fighting
you
, and you just stand there like this fucking statue of serenity and shit!”

Focusing on breathing calmly, Gabe tried to rein in the man’s wayward wash of words by raising his hands in a surrendering gesture and speaking low and slow. “Kieran….”