Moon Crossed (Werewolf Hunter Series): Season 1 (Episodes 1-6) (Crescent Hunter) (14 page)

Even
after Kyle's talk, I still can't bring myself to believe that Cole
feels that way about me. He can't; there's no way. This is some
wolf/hunter magic thing that none of us really understand. Sometimes,
it seems like he hates what I am. The girls he finds attractive look
nothing like me, and I'm not wolf-borne; he strikes me as a purist,
unless it's just sex.

Sex.

Something that
absolutely terrifies me. It changes everything, allows someone close
enough to
touch
your soul in the most profound way possible.
You shouldn't let just anyone touch your soul. That's a level
of comfort that I don't know I'll ever have with anyone. Letting
someone see you so much more naked than standing there with your
clothes off. Or maybe I'm just thinking of it wrong, but I've always
considered sex to be something incredibly sacred. Not just born of
lust and instinct, but of care and the need to feel closer than
proximity can ever provide. My thoughts ramble on as I walk through
the woods, heading for the clearing.

I'm hours early to get
some quiet time after raising the protections. I can meditate without
worrying about anyone or anything sneaking up on me.

Shortly after starting
my deep breathing, an incredible sense of rage overwhelms me. The
intensity of it moves my feet, ready for an attack. Peering through
the trees, I look for someone, anyone, who could be ready to pounce.
I see nothing. I don't feel the presence of a wolf-borne, or anything
for that matter. It's as though all of the animals in the woods have
been silenced, and the forest needs to exhale. Inexplicable fear runs
through me, and I wonder if I'm going a little insane.

I blow out urgent
breaths to purge this feeling, but it's not working. The rage is
making me want to break everything near me, and my fists are balled
up at my sides, fingernails digging into my palms.

A satisfied calm takes
over, but there's still a heavy sense of foreboding.

The feeling has
completely subsided, but has left me exhausted. I take my dagger out
of the backpack and lay my head on the pack to take a quick nap.

This is a dream. I'm
running through the trees at breakneck speeds at Cole's side and we
are both in wolf form, basking in the freedom and wild abandon. I nip
at Cole's neck playfully and we slow down, then stop. We remain in
wolf form, playing, nuzzling, and wrestling one another. It's a nice
dream, peaceful.

Right.

The presence of a
wolf-borne startles me awake. Scanning the tree line, Cole comes into
view. A smile lights up my face. His
features soften and he breathes out relief.

“What's up?”
I ask, crinkling my brow, because there's something off about him.

“Nothing, I'm
just tired.” He folds himself down beside me.

“Working late?”

“Yeah.” He
looks straight ahead when he says it.

“I didn't realize
that working at the lumber yard had all night duties.” I want
to nudge him with my elbow, but don't.

“We had to finish
the build for Summer Fest.” He continues looking straight
ahead. “Apparently, the sound of hammers and saws offends the
sensibilities of the Magnolia Heights upper echelon shoppers in
downtown.”

A giggle bubbles up at
his distaste for the residents. “Don't you live in one of the
nicer neighborhoods in Magnolia Heights?”

“Yes, but that's
all Colleen.” The contempt swells in his voice.

“Who's that?”

“The mother
unit.” He pulls his lips to the side. “Well, the
stepmother unit.”

“Oh.” Wow.
I know nothing of his family, and it strikes me as odd. He never
talks about them, except in frustration.

“Yeah, it is what
it is.” He lights a cigarette.

“What else did
you get up to today?” This is feeling strained. There's
something bothering him.

“Not much. I got
some sleep, then went to work. Typical day,” he answers.

“Hmm. Sounds
good,” I say, feeling very uncomfortable with the silence.
That's usually his thing. He doesn't like silence.

We sit in our usual
spot, listening to the sounds of the forest,
maintaining our typical physical distance. Hearing him
breathing comforts me and the awkwardness melts away.

Inhaling a deep breath
to prepare myself, I ask the question, “So, have you decided
what you're doing for the full moon?”

“I'll probably do
what I always do.” He looks forward with an indulgent smile.
“Run.”

“Ah.” I
close my eyes with a grimace.

“Disappointed?”
He pins me with his eyes, which are shining with a hopeful gleam.

I shrug to mask my
worry, even though I want to beg him to come to the house so that I
know he's safe.

“What would you
have me do?” he asks, watching every detail of my expression.

“You should come
and hang with us.” I curse myself for letting my eyes close
when I say it.

“I'll think about
it.” He looks forward again.

“Cool.”
Yeah, real cool, Claire.

“Looks like
you're feeling better.” He steels a glance in my direction.

“Much better. I'm
still a little sore. But I'll be fine.”

“You know I would
never let anyone hurt you.” He won't make eye contact with me.

“This is a
dangerous life we have; it's bound to happen.” A ghost of a
smile plays on my lips.

He turns and looks me
in the eyes. “I'm telling you, I can't stand the thought of
someone hurting you.”

“I know. I don't
want anyone to hurt you either.” I'm trying not to feel
defensive, but I can't help it.

“I just want to
be sure that you know that I care about you.” He pulls his
knees up and rests his elbows on them, playing with a plucked piece
of grass.

“I know you do. I
care about you, too.” I look at the ground.

“I mean, I just
want to be sure that you know I'd do anything for you. If you ever
need anything I'm here for you.” He's stuttering. “You
just have to call and I'll be here for you.”

“I know.” I
say, slightly amused that he's having trouble with his words.

“Just as long as
you know.” He pinches his eyes shut.

“I do.” I
suck in my bottom lip; I know what's coming next.

“But all that
having been said...” He trails off.

“I know.” I
have to stop him or my heart may stop beating at hearing the words.

“Because of what
you are.” He says it stiffly.

“And what you
are.” My voice is wan.

“It doesn't mean
that I don't feel...” His voice is strained; he's having
trouble breathing. “I'm just trying to tell you that.”

“I love you too,
Cole.” How did I get those words past the tightness in my
throat?

He turns, branding me
with a mixture of pain and joy in his stormy eyes. “You do?”

My blush deepens. “Of
course I do.” There's a voice screaming in my head to fix what
I've just done. It's wrong; I have to fix it. I put my hand on his
shoulder. “I love all my boys.”

His shoulders relax,
but the relief doesn't reach his eyes. “Yeah, of course.”
He continues to stare at me, searching for something.

A goofy smile spreads
across my lips to break the tension. My hand is still on his
shoulder; I pull back like he's a hot a burner, because he just plain
is. I was enjoying that contact just a little too much.

His eyes are still
burning through me. I turn to look at him. “What?”

“Fate is cruel.”
He sighs in frustration.

“It is.”
The corners of my mouth struggle not to turn
downward. They lose the battle.

“Because I
feel...” He's searching for the right words, and I remain
silent to let him. “I feel like we are perfect together...”
He looks away from me. “If things were different.”

“But they
aren't.” I widen my eyes as I say it. Like it's no big deal,
but it is.

“This seems easy
for you.” He sighs in frustration.

“No, Cole, this
isn't easy for me. I am acutely aware of every part of this that's
wrong. But I don't care. I need you in my life, however I can have
you.” My eyes soften and I move myself in front of him. “I
have never felt this kind of draw to anyone in my life ever before.”
I can't believe I'm saying this; please, someone stop me. “When
you're near me, the elation and happiness I feel can only be
described as the most beautiful parts of euphoria. And all of that
outweighs the fear that we're going to accidentally touch. That I
won't recover from feeling the absence of it. The intensity of what
we feel, this draw, it feels lethal.”

He looks deeply into my
eyes, and I can feel his spirit inside me. “I know not all that
may be coming, but be it what it will, I'll go to it laughing.”
There are so many ways I could take that quote from
Moby
Dick
, but I choose to focus on the laughing part. I suck my
bottom lip in to keep from talking; if I say anything at this moment
I know it will be the wrong thing.

Air filters out of his
lungs. “Knowing you feel the same way isn't helping.”

“Sorry, but I
would never lie to you.” I swallow the grief in it. I have to
concentrate on breathing, when I want nothing more than to lean
forward and feel his full lips on mine.

“I would never
lie to you either.” The truth in his tone fills me with sorrow
and happiness.

Silence befalls the
clearing, both of us bathing in the passion we can feel without
touching. There is a deeper level of contact with him; it's worth the
pain.

After a long stretch of
silence, he starts to get restless. A lascivious smile bleeds across
his lips. “We're going to have to do something to cut this
sexual tension.”

I pick up my dagger,
arching my brow. “I have a knife.”

My name comes out on a
frustrated whisper and before he can reach out to me, I move. We sit
in silence as the sun lights the horizon.

Tomorrow
is the full moon, which means that tonight
is a porch night. The boys and I get together, hang out, have some
low key fun, and go on a run. Every full moon could be one of our
last. The ritual started because I spend a lot of time out here in
deep contemplation. It's serene and has been dubbed “The Magic
Porch.” Great things happen out here, deep conversations about
the meaning of life, lots of jokes, and the boys cut up. It's the
kind of joy I wish I could bottle. It wouldn't be for sale just
keeping it around for when I need a boost of good feels. A giggle
rumbles from my belly thinking about Aunt Meemaw and Nanner skits
that the boys do.

“What's so
funny?” Locke brings me out of my thought.

“Meemaw and
Nanner.” I smile up at him as he takes a seat.

“Oh Jesus, not
that. Do you think they'll make an appearance?” He shakes his
head, laughing.

“I'm never sure
whether I want them to or not.” I raise one eyebrow. “You
know, nearly pissing myself laughing and not being able to breathe.”

“True.” He
sits back and I can tell that he has something on his mind.

“What's rattling
around in that brain of yours?” I look past him so he doesn't
feel pinned down.

“What do you
mean?”

I tilt my head and cut
a half smile into my cheek. “You've got that look. You know,
the look that says 'I have something to say, but I'm not sure how to
say it' look.”

A knowing smile lights
his eyes. “You know me so well.”

“I do.”

“Tomorrow,”
he says quietly.

“Not buying it.”
My brow arches.

“That's pretty
much it,” he insists.

“Liar.”

He sits in silence for
a moment, continuing to wrestle with his thoughts. He inhales a deep
breath to speak, and Rabbit comes out with a sandwich. From the look
on Locke's face, he's not going to talk about whatever it was with
Rabbit here.

“Hey, Rabbit.”
Locke twerks his eyebrows and offers me a gloating glance.