Moon Crossed (Werewolf Hunter Series): Season 1 (Episodes 1-6) (Crescent Hunter) (7 page)

“Cole Jackson,
that's who.” She shrugs. “Just be careful, babe. That's a
wild one who can't be tamed.”

Interesting choice of
words. “I'm not looking to tame anyone.” I shoo her from
the bathroom. “But I am about to tame the stink in my armpits!”

“K lady. I'm
gonna run downstairs, get some coffee, and head home.” I hear
the outer door click.

Oh shit. I try to
connect with Locke.
Hey, I told Lili that we tricked Cole with the
ol' skinny dipping steal your clothes gag to explain why I had his
jeans.

Got it,
Locke
answers. It's curt, but that's okay. I'm still a little pissed
myself. Who the hell do they think they are, telling me what to do?

In the shower I let the
good feelings seep back in. Then, as always, I think about the next
full moon. They are always a tough time for us. The boys have to be
locked in the basement with the protections up around the rest of the
house so they can't get out.

It's by far my worst
nightmare for one of them to get out and become moon-touched. Once
that happens, there's only the final solution. Death.

I shake the thought out
of my head and become even more driven to work on my potions. If I
can just keep them from shifting on the full moon then they won't
kill a human. If I could come up with a cure for a wolf that has
become moon-touched that would be the holy grail for our people.

We don't want to be at
war. It never started that way. Aunt Rain explained the lore to me.
That hunters were created by the wolves to regulate and not let them
run rampant murdering. The biggest problem is that once a wolf is
moon-touched, they can't shift back to human form because their
humanity is gone, and they become a rabid animal. Wreaking havoc on
the population. It's in everyone's best interest if werewolves
continue to be folklore to the masses.

I get out of the shower
and pull on a pair of jeans and a tank top. I throw my hair in a
ponytail and head down to the kitchen.

I'm relieved to find no
one's there. I get a cup of coffee and grab a yogurt from the fridge.
Looking around at the epic mess from the party, I wrestle with my
desire to clean it and my drive to work on the potion.

The cure wins.

Walking through the
parlor to the basement door, I notice Brogan stirring on the couch.
The room is very bright from the sun. I kneel down in front of him
and gently rattle his shoulder. “Hey sweetie, why don't you go
up to one of the bedrooms? It'll be more comfortable and dark.”

He opens his eyes
sleepily. “I wanted to talk to you before you locked yourself
in the lab.”

“What's up?”
I sit on the coffee table and put my cup down.

“I want to be the
guinea pig. I don't want Trevor to do it.” He sits up, pushing
his palms into his eyes.

“Why not?”

“Because he's not
been himself lately.” He looks at me with concern.

“He's just a
little wound up. He'll be fine.” I try to put him at ease.

“No, I think
there's something more to it.” He gives me a look of warning.
“You know we're all getting to the age...”

“I know, we're
coming into some pretty dangerous times. But in all reality, I don't
think we need an alpha.” I shake my head, hoping that we can
avoid it.

“How do you mean?
We have to have an alpha,” he argues.

“No we don't,”
I explain. “Look, there is always a natural leader in any
group. We have that, we don't need to give anyone the title. You are
all going to eventually find girlfriends.” I huff a laugh.
“Even Trevor.”

Brogan laughs. “That's
a lot of hope you're holding out there.”

“That's the
thing. No one is vying for a mate; no one is trying to take my
territory. It's my land; I have the deed and no one wolf-borne or
otherwise is going to take it away from me.” I stop and think
for a moment. “So I guess, basically, I'm the alpha. See, that
settles it.”

“I'm still
worried.” He presses his lips into a thin line. “Can we
have a pack meeting?”

“You betchya. Why
don't we do it next moon?” A huge grin blooms.

“Deal.” He
ruffles his hair, causing dust and some dried grass to fall out.

“Now get off my
couch, head upstairs, and get some rest.” I stand up to leave.

“Claire?”

“Yeah?” I
turn around.

“I love you, and
I really appreciate what you're trying to do for us.” The
sincerity in his tone touches me.

“Thanks, Brogan.
I love you all so much.” The pressure of finding the cure
pushes on my heart. I feel the need to lighten things up. “I
wouldn't want to have to kill you.” Fail.

“Claire.”
He stands to meet me. “If I become moon-touched, I want you to
kill me if you can't cure me. Don't let me go feral, don't let me be
evil.” He's pleading with tears threatening at the corners of
his eyes.

“I'm going to do
everything I can to keep everyone safe. I don't want to have to kill
you, but if I have to, I will.” Those words feel so heavy on my
tongue.

“And I don't want
you to feel bad; it's the right thing.” He pulls his lips in.
“Don't be sad.”

“Brogan, you
aren't going to become moon-touched. We're going to do it. I'm going
to find a cure,” I reassure him, even though I'm not so sure
myself.

He throws his arms
around me. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”
I break away from him and head down to the lab.

At first I was relieved
that it wasn't going to be a stay-away-from-Cole talk. But after what
we just talked about, I would have welcomed that from Brogan.

Sometimes life is hard
to focus on, when all I want to do is find a cure. I check on my
beakers, seeing that the consistency is coming along nicely and will
be ready by the full moon. I may let Brogan take the potion. It might
make him feel like he's doing something, really contributing.

My computer powers up
and I sit down, reading some of my findings from the previous month.
See if there's anything I can anticipate. The words on the screen
start to get fuzzy. I've been looking at this for way too long; my
head is heavy so I lay it down on my desk for a quick catnap.

The moon is a stunning,
shimmering silver orb dancing in the blue of the sky, the witch's
ring around it enraptured. I take slow, deliberate steps toward the
clearing where I like to watch the skies.

Calm fills me, even
though I can sense, hear, and smell wolves all around me, and I feel
no fear. They are running and frolicking, having fun. I'm sitting,
watching, waiting.

A peculiar feeling runs
through my veins; it's strong and undeniable. The burning is
unbearable and I writhe on the ground in pain, unable to control any
of my motions. My body contorts and bends in ways it wasn't meant to.
My eyes pinch shut to staunch the pain, but it doesn't work. Screams
choke into my mouth, turning into guttural growl.

When the aching
subsides I open my eyes, trying to sit up, but I can't. Not like I
usually do. I look at my hands; they aren't hands, they're paws. I
sit back on my haunches and try to look at myself.

I'm a wolf.

I've shifted.

The sound of the boys
running through the woods calls to me and I can't wait to catch up.
Stretching my wolf legs for the first time takes a moment. But in no
time at all I'm whipping through the forest with great speed, leaping
and bounding about everywhere. I feel happy and free.

A rabbit catches my
eye. I need it, I have to get it. I give chase and hunt it, catching
it right before it goes into its hole. I rip and tear at it, eating
the whole thing and crunching on bones and not caring about the fur
getting caught in my teeth.

When I'm done I lay in
the clearing soft with pine straw, cleaning myself and feeling the
need for a nap, even though I can still hear the boys. I lay my head
down for a moment until I smell it, an intoxicating scent. Without
realizing it I'm on my feet moving toward it; something primal sets
off an urgency to be closer to it. My pace turns from a walk to a
trot to a gallop. I have to be near it. I need to feel it, touch it.

“Hey, Claire?”
His deep timbre floods my senses, but I still follow the scent.
Finding it is all I can conceive of.

“Claire?” A
touch on my shoulder startles me awake.

Sitting up fast, I have
bits of my curly hair in my mouth and stuck to my face where I was
drooling. I know I have the imprint of a book on my cheek; I'm sure
I'm a real vision. Regaining my bearings, I focus my eyes on him.
“Cole?”

“Hey there. Kyle
told me you were down here.” He looks around. “I hope you
don't mind.”

Through a yawn I nod.
“No, not at all.” I wipe the rest of the spittle from my
chin. Yeah, nice. “What's up?”

“I was in the
area and wanted to stop by.” He doesn't make eye contact; he
does that a lot.

We live in the middle
of nowhere. Weird. “Oh, okay, well cool. Good to see you.”

If I wasn't half
asleep, I would be more mortified about my appearance. There will be
a session of self-deprecation later. “Let's head upstairs.”

“Sure, I brought
some drinks in case you wanted to hang out.” He holds up a bag.

“I'm not really a
drinker, but we can hang out for a bit.” He follows me up the
stairs. “Watch out,” I call out behind me as he
approaches the broken stair.

He falters on the loose
wood. “Whoa.”

“Sorry, broken
step.” I stop and turn around with an apologetic smile.

“I can fix that.”
The corners of his mouth turn up slightly when he says it.

“That'd be
awesome. I've been asking Locke to do it forever.” I continue
up the stairs and into the main house and I want to die of
embarrassment. The boys have done nothing at all to clean up from the
party. “Holy crap!”

“What's wrong?”
Cole looks around.

“This place is
still a disaster.” I inhale a breath to start yelling for them
to get their asses down here since they promised to clean up.

“Hold on.”
Cole puts his hand up. “I'll help get it all cleaned up. It
won't take us long. Let them get some sleep.”

“It's six p.m.;
they can get up.” I might be feeling a little punitive.

“I've got this.
We can get the big stuff taken care of.” He walks into the
kitchen. “Where do you keep the trash bags?”

“Under the sink.”
I follow him in and look around. “Okay, it really won't take
long.”

We get busy cleaning
and just like he said, it isn't taking long at all. I get all the
dishes loaded and I hear him running the vacuum in the parlor. I'm
astounded that someone of the male persuasion other than Locke is
capable of actually cleaning. I watch as he wraps the cord up on the
vacuum.

He puts it in the
closet and comes into the kitchen. “See, just about done. Now
you go outside and get all comfy and I'll bring you a drink.”

“But I don't–”
He cuts me off.

“Shhh, you're
going to relax tonight.” He pushes me out the back door onto
the porch.

“Okay, but just
one.” Did I just succumb to peer pressure?

I sit on the porch and
look out over the backyard; the fireflies are doing their mating
dance. He comes out the door carrying two drinks. He hands one to me.
“Okay, let me know if you like it.”

I take a sip and it's
the same as what he made last night. “Not bad, a little sweeter
than the one last night.” I put it down and lean back in the
chair.

He lights a cigarette
and inhales a big puff. I have to struggle not to study him. “You
know smoking isn't good for you.”

“No.” He
tilts his head, dragging it out. “Bitching about my smoking
isn't good for
you
.”

“Um, I wasn't
bitching. But I'm not wrong.” My brow arches; I'm not really
appreciating his tone.

“Yeah, unless
they start putting silver in cigarettes I'll be fine. One of the
perks of immortality.” He kicks back and puts his boots up on
the table between us.

“I guess, but
still...” I shrug, really with nothing to add. “Sometimes
I forget.”

“I can see that,”
he answers. He doesn't let one beat of silence go by. “So how
is it that you and Trevor are brother and sister?”

“That's an odd
story,” I say flatly.

“I imagine since
he's a wolf-borne and you're a hunter.” He takes a long drag
off his cigarette.

“The story as
I've heard it goes like this. My father and Aunt Rain were called by
a group of hunters up north. An entire pack had become moon-touched.
So of course, they had to...” It's always hard talking about
what we're built to do when with a wolf-borne. “You know.”

He releases a sad sigh.
“Yeah, I do.”

“Apparently,
because Trevor was too young, he had not become moon-touched. So
after the rest of the pack had been...” God this is hard.

“Yeah.” He
lets me off the hook.