Moon Crossed (Werewolf Hunter Series): Season 1 (Episodes 1-6) (Crescent Hunter) (9 page)

“Difference is,
I'll never shift.” Our eyes lock for a moment pensively. It
goes through my mind that we are the same, but oh so different.
Somewhere deep in my soul, in his, I know we are having the same
thought. I can't help but say the words, “Because I'm a
hunter.”

“And I'm a wolf.”
He breaks his gaze from mine, turning his attention to the fireflies
in the yard. I get up and go to the edge of the porch, sit in the
chair facing outward, and rest my hands and head on the railing.

He's as captivated by
the glimmer as am I. The way they call out with their light to find
the perfect mate. The poetry in this nature is something I envy; for
them, it's simple. Find the unequaled light that speaks to your soul,
go to it, love it, be one with the light creating a beautiful
blinding spark of life together. Simple.

Cole leans forward on
the railing, resting his chin on his arms and still looking out. “It
is
that simple, you know.”

“For them.”
The sadness in my tone seems to dim the fireflies' light.

“For everyone.”
He turns his head toward me. “For us.”

Our eyes lock again,
our elbows are nearly touching, and the intensity of it sets
something on fire in me that I didn't know was there. I have to put
some distance between us by going to the stairs and sitting on the
bottom step.

He follows me, but sits
on the top step, maintaining a safe distance. I look over my shoulder
to watch him. Something sparks a memory I can't quite recall. It
makes me feel uneasy, so I shake it off and go back to watching the
light show.

“Wanna go for a
run?” he asks with a devil's edge in his voice.

“I do.”
Excitement broils me from the inside. I hear the sound of him sliding
his cowboy boots off and unbuckling his belt. I'm careful not to turn
around.

“Hey, can you
carry my jeans? I don't want to offend your sensibilities if I get
the urge to shift back while we're out there.”

“Do I have to
carry your boots?” I'm reticent to be too weighted down. He
brings out the competitor in me.

“Nah, just my
pants.” He throws them and they land on the step next to me. I
grab my backpack off the porch and stuff them in. I tighten the laces
on my boots and get ready to fly.

A low, playful growl
emits from behind me. I turn and I'm face to face with Cole in wolf
form. I do this to all the boys and I can't resist doing it now. I
take his face in my hands and scratch under his chin and work my way
around to behind his ears. His eyes are reduced to slits from
pleasure and he starts patting his hind leg on the porch. I look at
him with a big, silly grin on my face. I love spending time with the
wolves. It makes me feel happy, alive.

Cole lurches forward
and licks from my chin to my forehead. There's wolf slobber all over
my face. “Oh, that's so gross and totally unacceptable.”

He tilts his head to
the side and I swear I can hear his voice say, “Oh well,
darlin.'”

I take two steps
backward, swinging the backpack over my shoulder. “You're it!”
I take off running and look back to see him cock his head to the side
before he leaps off the porch.

Feeling his power
surging through me as we run effortlessly through the moonlight is an
adrenaline rush like no other. This feeling is better than any drug,
drink, or any other high. Not music, light, dark, nothing can
describe this, nothing can capture this feeling, only doing it.

We dart and run
sometimes side by side, other times I take to the trees where he
can't reach me.

After hours of running
and playing my legs start to tire. I bring my full run down to a jog,
then stop. He's nowhere in sight, but I can feel him very nearby. I
look around, trying to see through the dark forest. My eyesight is
keen, but I can't see in this much darkness.

Focusing on the sound
of him stalking closer, I purposely turn away to give him the idea
I'm unaware. He stills and I'm sure he's preparing to pounce on me. I
remain statue-still and a sly smile bleeds across my features. His
steps change from four-legged to two and I feel him directly behind
me. Barely brushing my shoulder, he slides one of the straps of the
backpack off. “My pants.” His tone is deflated and
unreadable. I'm not sure what just happened to kill the fun we were
having.

When I hear the zipper
of his pants go up I turn around but remain silent, just looking at
him through the darkness.

“Watch the
sunrise with me?” he asks wistfully, turning in the direction
of the clearing.

Looking to the east, I
can see the horizon beginning to lighten. Wanting desperately to see
his eyes light again, I smile playfully, poking him in the stomach.
“I would love to.”

He looks down at where
I poked as though he expected to see blood gushing from his guts. He
looks back up at me then continues walking. “Don't do that.”

“Do what?”
I'm confused.

“Poke me.”
His words are barely there, but I feel the seriousness in them.

“Sorry.” My
cheeks redden, but I'm not really quite sure why.

When we reach the
clearing, we sit in the spot we did yesterday, but he's sitting
further from me than before. I don't get it, but it's okay. I'm going
to just enjoy watching the sunrise in his company.

We remain silent for
the entire show. He fidgets with the cuff of his jeans a couple of
times and breaks strands of pine straw into dust.

Just as the sky is
changing to a more blue hue from the brilliant reds, Cole's phone
chirps. He startles and reaches into his pocket. “Shit.”

It dawns on me. “Oh
no, curfew.”

“Yeah.” He
looks over at me, pressing his lips into a tight line, “I think
I screwed up.”

“I'm so sorry.”
I have no idea what he's facing having missed curfew. I honestly
don't understand it. “How old are you anyway?” I know how
old Trevor, Locke, and the boys are. They range between twenty-five
and thirty-two, but in wolf-borne years that's more like nineteen to
twenty-one. So yeah, technically speaking I'm older, but only in
maturity.

He stands up, texting
something on his phone, “Not old enough to not have a curfew.”

Standing with him, I
brush the dirt off my bottom. “Sorry.” I feel really bad
and responsible; I should have remembered he had to go.

“It's my fault, I
just lost track of time. But I've gotta go.” He looks down at
the ground then back up to me. “See you later?”

“Yup.” I
nod, sucking my bottom lip in. We shuffle in place for a minute. Both
of us want to offer the other a hug, but neither of us will make the
first move.

“I'm going to
shift and run back to my truck. Will you keep my pants for me?”
He leans down to be at my eye level.

“Of course.”
A smile blooms on my lips. “I'm apparently starting a
collection.”

He huffs a laugh.
“Don't get too attached; I only have three pairs of jeans that
are wearable in social situations and I worked very hard getting
those knee-holes just right.”

“Good to see you
smile.” Crap, I said that out loud.

He quirks his brow in
triumph. “You too.” He puts his hands on his button and
gives me a look that says I'd better turn around if I don't want to
see him au natural.

“Oh, sorry.”
This startles me and I spin around immediately.

“I'll see you
tomorrow.” His pants make a thud when they hit the ground
beside me. I hear him shift and run off.

Cole
has come to see me nearly every night; it's been so nice having him
around. Our friendship has grown into something really beautiful.
There is something that fascinates us both about each other. Of
course, it's just a friendship. It can never be anything more. First
and foremost because of what we are.

When we are together,
we do our best to avoid the topic of our nature. I don't discuss
hunter business and he doesn't discuss wolf business. We stick to
things like the meaning of life, literature, and just about
everything not related to our nature. It's nice.

My research is falling
behind a bit, but I'll catch up. Although, I got a nasty text from
Aunt Rain yesterday that if I miss my patrol tonight I'm dead meat.
I've only missed three patrols and I had them all covered by other
hunters. I don't see what the big deal is.

Cole is right when he
says I'm too serious and need to learn to relax. It's been nice not
working myself to death and I'm taking advantage of my last summer as
a student. I'm not sure if I'm going to go for my masters; we'll see.
Right now, the only thing I'm looking forward to is enjoying my
summer.

Coming back from the
clearing, I make a detour into the family graveyard and put the wild
flowers Cole picked for me on my parents’ graves. It's been a
ritual of mine for years now to kneel down and ask if they still love
and accept me even though I know neither of them can possibly approve
of my choice to live with wolves.

It feels less like a
guilt trip now, and honestly with how Cole makes me feel so light and
happy it takes a lot to bring my mood down. The sound of Cole's loud
as hell truck starting does make my heart fall a little as I hear the
truck make its way down the dirt drive, away from me. I mean he has
to go home sometime, right?

When I get back to the
house, there's no one home. Strange for this time of day since they
weren't on a run. Silence has never suited me and I definitely don't
like not feeling any of the boys here. There's an emptiness that
grows inside me when they are gone for too long. Aunt Rain says it's
because I can't feel my magic. The strange thing is that I always
have some magic, whether they are around or not. It's just stronger
when they're near.

I grab a banana and eat
it on the way up the stairs to shower and lay down before getting
back to work.

I wake up around one
p.m.; I can feel Locke coming home. Curiosity gets the better of me,
so I run downstairs to catch him before he gets to his room.

I meet him on the lower
flight of stairs and I'm knocked in the face with the smell of a
woman. “Whoa.” I look at him with mischief in my eyes.

“What?” He
eyes me curiously.

“Hungry?” I
ask him, dragging him by the shirt to the kitchen.

“Not really. I am
tired, though, and would love to go die in my bed.” He groans.

“You should eat
first.” My tone is calculating; I don't bother trying to hide
the fact that I want to know where he was and what he was doing.

“Claire, I really
am tired.”

“Humor me. Five
minutes, I'll cook something for you.” We reach the kitchen; I
sit him at the table and go the fridge.

“Good God, no.
I'll tell you anything, just please don't cook,” he pleads.

I sit in my chair,
resting my elbows on the table and my head on my hands. “What's
her name?”

“What do you
mean?” He has the gall to look me straight in the eye with
defiance.

Pulling my lips to the
side, I arch my brow. It's the face I make to back the boys into the
corner when they are keeping something from me.

He looks up in
frustration. “We were just hanging out.”

“Yeah, with
someone that wears way too much perfume and likely had you high on
her pheromones.” My knowing smile is grating on his tired
nerves.

“I'm not sure
what you're talking about.” He gets up from the table to get a
drink from the fridge.

“I'm talking
about you messing with a human girl.” I lend a judgmental look.

“So what if I
was.” He comes back and sits at the table.

“You know you
shouldn't be messing with a human, it's just wrong.” I lean
back in the chair, folding my arms across my chest.

He looks at me,
astounded, then puts his hand to his ear as though he were answering
a phone. “Oh yeah, she's here.” He hands me the
nonexistent phone. “It's for you. It's the kettle.”

“Ha ha.”
Crap, I've been busted.

“I can smell him
all over you.” His tone doesn't match his expression. He's
clearly not pleased with me.

“What are you
talking about?” Surely he can't have a problem with Cole and me
being friends.

“Please, Claire,
don't insult my intelligence or my sense of smell.” He leans
toward me. “You shouldn't be messing with Cole.”

“You're making
assumptions. Cole and I are just friends.” It really is all it
is.

“Yeah, okay.”
He purses his lips. “He's dangerous and you shouldn't be
spending this much time with him. His scent is all over you. A dead
giveaway that you're messing around.”

“We aren't
messing around. As a matter of fact, we haven't even so much as
touched.” My tone is overly defensive, but it's true.

“Really?”
He tilts his head, arching his eyebrows. “Come on, Claire.”