Moon Crossed (Werewolf Hunter Series): Season 1 (Episodes 1-6) (Crescent Hunter) (60 page)

“What the...”
Zane trails off.

Cole's scent is strong
in the air. I look on in awe at the grace and intricacy, and get lost
in the magic of the shimmering wings beating at varied rhythms
“Cole.” It rides out on a longing whisper. It doesn't
matter how much he's hurt me; I can't break the connection. My arm
aches where he bit me as a child, prompting me to run my fingers
along its length.

“Cole did this?”
Zane asks.

I nod, trying to let
the anger flow. I don't want to get caught up in Cole's cheap tricks.
He's been watching us, and he knows that I take this trail every
morning to the training grounds. “Come on, let's keep moving.”

I run through them,
breaking the spell, and they disperse in my wake. My mind wanders to
many different places. I keep replaying the words in my head, “I
miss you.” What does he miss, using me?

Cole's scent invades my
senses as we round a hairpin turn on the trail. Another swarm of
butterflies stops me in my tracks. They form the words, “I'm
sorry.”

Zane and I exchange a
brief look, my expression unyielding. I run through them and they
scatter. We finally reach the training grounds. This will be the
first time we're able to use it since Zane, Ben, and I repaired and
rebuilt everything. It's not quite as rudimentary as it once was, but
still fairly simple. In some ways, Trevor did me a favor when he
trashed it.

Trevor.

It doesn't matter that
we were raised together; it still feels odd knowing that he's my
brother by blood. Even worse,
I may never see him again or have another
civil conversation.

I try to let the burn
of the oxygen in my lungs push out the pain of it. All my boys are
gone, my best friends, my brother. I glance at Zane, who smiles
sweetly, as though he knows what I'm thinking.

“I'm here for
you.” He knits his brows together. “You really aren't
alone.”

“Thank you, and I
know that.” We drop our backpacks on the wooden bench and both
check our gear.

“Ladies first.”
Zane cocks his head to the left, holding out his hand.

I oblige and start by
traversing the obstacles, jumping, scaling, and shimmying. Zane
follows close behind. This feels good to let myself go; it reminds me
of my Da, and how he used to push me to be better. He would tell me
that it was life or death.

Zane is a worthy
hunter; he's quick and lanky, which can be a real challenge for a
wolf. He scuttles up the tall wall with ease, not using any of the
hanging ropes. I try his technique, but my attempt isn't quite as
graceful as his.

The hours pass by and
the sun goes down over the horizon, leaving the optimal time to
train. Most of our fighting is done at night, so honing our skill in
the dark is important. My throat burns from the rigorous workout, so
I go for my water. Sitting hard on the bench, my limbs feel like
jelly and just hang down.

“This is good. I
haven't done any training in a while, just real world stuff.”
Zane takes a long drink from his water bottle.

“Definitely good
for refocusing,” I agree.

We're silent for a beat
before I lean back on the tree behind the bench. “This is some
life we have, huh?”

“Yeah, it is,”
he says in a contemplative tone, “I often wonder if this is
something we choose before we're born, or if it chooses us.”

“I've never
thought of it that way. I'm not sure I would choose this life. The
pain, the solitude, the killing.” An ironic huff follows my
statement.

“But could you
imagine any other life?” He smiles knowingly.

“Yes.” I
look him square in the eye and continue. “Can you imagine just
having a normal life? Not having PTSD from an early age. Not
wondering what kind of violent death you'll suffer, not feeling a
draw to the one thing in this life that brings us the greatest pain.
Not being alone. Yeah, I can imagine another life.”

“I've never
looked at it that way.” He searches the trees for something
more to say.

“I've met your
dad, but is your mom still alive?” We've spent a lot of time
talking, but have mostly avoided deep topics relating to what we are
and the life we live.

He pulls his lips to
the side. “No.”

“Sorry.” I
flash him a sympathetic look. “Have you ever been in love?”

His chest heaves with a
burdened laugh. “Yes.”

I raise my eyebrows.
“Ever been in love with a human or hunter?”

A sly smile lights his
face. “No.”

“Yeah.” I
let it out slow.

“You're right,
this is some life we have.” He shakes his head.

“How did it end?”
I ask.

“It hasn't yet.”
He turns to me, puzzled.

“Not your life.
Your love.” I roll my eyes at the misunderstanding.

“Oh.” He
hangs his head, and I regret having asked.

“Sorry, you don't
have to talk about it.” My hand rests on his shoulder. “If
you ever want to talk, I'm here for you, too.”

“I know. Spending
all of this time with you hasn't just been for you. I've really
enjoyed having a friend.” A tight smile darkens his features,
and we're silent, listening to the sounds of the night forest. He
inhales a long breath, and I expect that he's going to say it's time
to get back to work, but he surprises me. “She became
moon-touched.” I barely hear the words over his shame. His tone
is telling. He had to put her down.

“I'm sorry,”
is all that I have.

“Have you ever
been in love?” he asks.

“No,” I
answer quickly.

“What about
Cole?” He probes deeper, and I wish he would stop.

I shake my head. “You
asked me if I'd ever been in love. It takes two, and Cole never loved
me.”

“You believe
that?” He studies my reaction.

“Yes, I believe
that. Cole only ever viewed me as a game. He used the hunter/wolf
draw to manipulate me to his advantage.” I press my lips in a
straight line. “Someone like him isn't capable of love.”

“You know, I
can't help but wonder if the way we feel about them is a form of
punishment from the elder shamans.” He shakes his head.

“Even after all
I've been through, I can't help but think that in a lot of ways the
elder shamans had it right. Doing what we do with compassion. It's
hard to hate the wolf-borne. I just wish they left room for us to be
together.” Cole is prominent in my thoughts.

“Truth.”
His eyes widen with agreement. “I wish I could feel the kind of
love I had with Jessica for someone like you.” He pulls his
lips to the side.

“That was her
name?”

“Yes.” He
stands, starting to pace with agitation. “Honestly, if I could
feel that kind of passion for a hunter, someone who understands...”

“Someone you
wouldn't have to kill.” I finish his statement.

“Yeah.” He
puts his hands on his hips, looking at me as though he's trying to
find an attraction to me. It isn't there.

Talking about all of
this really feels like it's lightening my heart; we don't often talk
about it, and even though it's a heavy topic, sometimes it's nice to
know you aren't alone. “How old were you when you made your
first kill?”

“Thirteen,”
he answers, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You?”

“Fifteen.”
I smile. “I'm a late bloomer.”

“Or Rain really
sheltered you.” He cocks his head.

“Yeah, she tried
to keep me off the battlefield. I figured it was because of Trevor,”
I recall.

“You want to get
back to it?” We can use a break in the heavy conversation.

I speak a resounding
“Yes,” throw my towel down on the bench, and head for the
tall wall.

We complete another run
through the course, then gulp down half of our water bottles. I'm
ready to move on to something else. “Let's work on some spider
guard moves.”

“That'd be great.
I really need to work on my grappling.” He tries to be discrete
in sniffing his pits, but fails. “Sorry, I'm a little sweaty.”
He offers an apologetic smile.

“No worries, I'm
not exactly a bed of roses myself.” I sniff my own pits.
“Besides, I've been living with wolves; how bad can it be?”

“Truth.” He
tilts his head down in understanding.

“Okay, so do you
want to start with sweeps, submissions, or escapes?” I wipe my
forehead with my towel and throw it back onto the bench.

“Submissions.”
He nods, assuming his stance

“Excellent.”
A melancholy befalls my mood. “My da used to tell me that
grappling was an important part of what we do. Sometimes we won't
always have a weapon, so subduing wolves in hand to hand was key in
survival.”

“And victory,”
Zane adds quickly, as he tries to apply an ankle lock. But I counter
by rotating my leg before he can complete the lock.

We continue grappling
for nearly forty-five minutes before my cell phone dings with a
message. Zane has me in an overhook, with his left arm wrapped around
my right. I'm unable to straighten my posture to use any leverage. I
twist around and use a hidden wrist lock to get out of it. With a
satisfied smile, I jump up and check my messages.

Where are you? ~
Rain

Zane and I are
training ~C

Get your ass home,
Hayden and Ki are here. ~Rain

KK ~C

“I guess we lost
track of time.” My posture sinks, and I feel admonished.

“What time is
it?” he asks, coming to see the time on my phone.

“Nine thirty.”
The corners of my mouth turn down. “We should get back, like
now.”

Zane nods, picking up
his scabbard and sword.
He looks at me, waiting for me to go, and
a wry smile rises to his lips. “First one home gets all the hot
water.” I take off down the trail at full speed.

“Oh shit.”
I hear his words, but can't see him, since I'm already around the
corner.

He tries to catch up,
but there's no way. It feels so freeing to run this fast, and I don't
even care that my ponytail gets caught on branches. I usually have to
deforest myself before I get back into the house.

The flood lights in the
backyard come into view through the trees that have now lost their
leaves. Cole's presence nearly knocks the wind out of me. I come to a
stop to try to find him. “Cole?” I call out quietly.

Remembering that we've
been able to communicate telepathically, I reach out to him silently.
Cole?

Still no answer until I
hear yelling in the distance. I run at full speed back down the trail
toward Zane. Cole is still in human form, but he's so much larger
than Zane. Panic rakes through my stomach, tugging at my lunch, as I
see them squared off.

“Cole!” My
voice is demanding.

Disgust drips from his
expression as he turns to me. “This is who you've been spending
your time with these days? Him? Really?”

“It's none of
your business who I spend my time with.” I throw my shoulders
back in a show of strength.

“But him? You
sought out the one person I hate the most in this world?” Hurt
ekes into his tone.

As I inhale to speak,
the sensation of more wolves approaching courses through me, giving
me strength. But I'm not going to lie; I'm afraid for us right now.

Locke, you need to
stop this.

This can't be
stopped,
he answers.

“Cole, you left.
You cut off all contact. You never cared, so why would you care now
who I spend my time with?” I don't give him time to answer.
“He's my friend,
my only friend.” I look toward
where I think Locke and the boys are in the trees.

“Do you know what
he did?” Cole asks, never taking his eyes off of Zane.

Zane shakes his head in
disapproval, but remains silent.

“What about you?
What you did?” I close the distance between us, standing close
enough to feel the hum that makes me want to touch him.

“I did what I was
told.” The intensity in his hatred toward Zane grows; he
doesn't turn to look at me.

“My mother wasn't
even on a hunt. She died tending the garden in our backyard,”
Zane challenges.

“Wait, what?”
Confusion takes me off guard.

“It was my first
kill. I had to,” Cole argues.

“He killed my
mother,” Zane answers.

“He didn't tell
you?” Cole shakes his head and looks at me. “I figured
that's what he told you to get you in bed.”

“No, Cole, you're
the only one who manipulated me into bed,” I answer, feeling
the shame of falling for his deception.

He flashes me a hurt
look. “It wasn't like that.”

My head is swimming
with all of the emotions. Here we are; I'm surrounded by all the
wolves I love. And as it stands right now, it's just me and the only
person who hasn't left me, hoping to get through this stand-off
alive. More to the point, can we get through this without having to
kill any of them, and is Zane up for that?