Hunter's Moon

by Rose Marie Wolf

  “Yes,” she answered with a sigh. “And I’ve tried her cell. No answer.”

  “She may not be in a mood to talk.”

  “Yeah, seems to be a lot of that going around.”

  Davis knew the hurt tone in her voice. “’Rora, don’t take it to heart. It’s nothing personal.”

  “I know.” She sighed once more. Davis could hear voices in the background, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Aurora answered the voices absently. “Yeah, I’ll be right there. Listen, Davis. I have to go. Sorry I woke you.”

  “Hey, no problem. Try Rose at home. She should be getting there pretty soon. If she doesn’t answer, give it some time.”

  “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Davis.” The call ended abruptly and the dial tone soon came on. Davis replaced the receiver and rubbed his eyes. There was no way he could get back to sleep. He stood and grabbed his jeans from the floor. The denim felt cold against his skin as he dressed quickly and walked down the hall in his bare feet.

  The PRDI was often busy during the week. Classes and meetings were held daily and new people arrived constantly. There was never a dull moment. When Davis saw the halls crowded with PRDI members and students, he was thankful Glen had allowed him the day off.

  He walked through the hallway, headed toward the kitchen. He hoped there would be some food in the fridge. The last time he had anything to eat was at Claire’s and that seemed so long ago.

  He thought of her as he pushed open the door and entered the kitchen. They hadn’t seemed like the perfect couple. They were from completely different worlds. She was well-off, educated, refined. He was a poor foster kid and a former junkie. It was funny how a bad situation could change bring people together. He hated to admit it, but if it hadn’t been for Simon screwing up their lives, they might have never gotten together.

  Claire didn’t seem ready to commit and he had to admit he was half afraid of it too. They had broken off several times, only to have their physical desires get the better of them. Was it love? Was it lust? Davis couldn’t be sure, but he knew he was tired of the on-again-off-again dance they kept playing.

  Davis looked up and all thoughts of Claire disappeared. Aaron Slater stared at him from across the room. Tension immediately filled the distance between the two brothers.

  Davis had forgotten that Slater was supposed to come by. He recovered quickly and wiped away the sweat that beaded on his brow.

  Slater’s eyes were dark brown, almost black. He had strong features and Davis noticed that they did look somewhat alike. They had the same narrow nose and square jaw. Slater’s forehead was higher though, his eyes slightly wider. There was no doubt they shared a parent.

  But Slater’s dark eyes penetrated Davis with hate and anger. It made him feel cold, uneasy. At least Slater wasn’t trying to fight him.

  “Hey,” Davis said, hating that his voice trembled. His mouth felt dry.

  Slater narrowed his eyes slightly, surveying him coldly. “Hey yourself.”

  Slater moved aside, giving Davis room to pass. Davis walked by him but kept his distance. He tried to appear nonchalant.

  Davis always felt nervous around him. It had been three years since they first realized they were brothers, since they both discovered that horrible secret. Slater would never trust Davis, not after knowing he had held the weapon that killed their mother. It had been established as a sick joke by Simon, but there was still tension between the two. It made gatherings awkward.

  Davis hated feeling inferior to the young man. He turned away so he wouldn’t have to face Slater, but he could feel the burning just the same. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?” Slater’s voice held the usual amount of scorn.

  Davis ignored it. “You know what I mean.”

  Slater gave a scoffing laugh.

  Davis turned slightly toward him, caught the glint in his eye.

  “I didn’t come here to start a fight,” Slater said.

  “I’m surprised,” Davis said. “Why are you here?” He opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. He wasn’t thirsty, but it gave him something to do. He didn’t look Slater directly in the eye. He stared toward his ear, where an earring caught the light and shone brightly.

  “Glen is giving a lecture this evening, starting at seven. He wanted me there.”

  Davis broke his reserve and stared at him. He lifted an eyebrow. “That’s a first. Why does he want you?”

  “The lecture’s on were-creatures and the dangers of encountering rogues. Since I’ve had some experience, he thought I could give some first-hand advice.”

  “You’ve encountered other were-creatures?” Davis was skeptical.

  Slater sighed then spoke. He sounded annoyed. “Yeah, something like that. Just because you’ve been in a cave most of your life and you haven’t seen the real world, doesn’t mean we all have.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that—”

  “Then what did you mean?” Slater’s eyes flashed. He was getting angry.

  Davis licked his lips and thought carefully before he opened his mouth. “It’s been three years,” he began. “I’ve learned a lot in that time, but I am still new to this whole were thing. There’s a lot I still don’t know, but I'm trying.”

  Slater shook his head a moment as if clearing his thoughts. It seemed to Davis that he wanted to push the topic, but he let it go instead. “All right,” he said.

  “Are things okay with us?”

  “Not really, no,” Slater answered. “But for now, we’re cool. We have to be.”

  Davis offered a small smile, but Slater didn’t return it. Davis felt foolish and glanced at the clock. It was six-thirty. “You better get ready for the lecture.”

  “I would, but I need to see Glen first. He’s in a meeting.”

  Davis nodded and strolled a few steps away from his brother. The tension was still thick. It was overwhelming, like a suffocating blanket on a too warm night. He stood next to the sink and took a long look around to avoid Slater’s stare.

  Something was different about the room, but Davis couldn’t place just what. After staring and searching for a moment, he was able to figure out. Several of the chairs that sat at the table were gone. Scuff marks were all over the floor. There had been a struggle.

  “What happened here?”

  Slater shrugged a bit. “Jason, I think. I heard Pierce talking about it. He snapped, starting tearing the place apart before he stormed out.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “This morning, shortly after you guys got back.”

  “Damn.” Davis rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t hear anything. I knew Rose was here and they argued, but I didn’t know it was that bad. I must’ve been out of it.”

  “Must’ve.” Slater looked at him. “Well, as much fun as it is standing here, chatting with you, I have things to do. I think I’ll see if Glen is out of his meeting.”

  “Yeah, you do that,” Davis said absently. His mind had wandered once again. He thought about Jason and Rose. She had seemed nervous, withdrawn and her strong heat-scent was mingled with fear and sweat. And she was beginning to look like the walking dead and it definitely didn’t suit her.

  He let the thought drift away. Jason and Rose’s problems were their own. He wouldn’t get involved unless he had to. He would need to remind himself later to ask Glen what really went on. He didn’t trust second-hand information.

  Slater left the room a moment later, leaving Davis alone. His solitude didn’t last long. Pierce entered a minute later. His face appeared flushed and sweat dotted his brow and neck. The armpits of his dressy white shirt were damp with perspiration.

  “Davis, there’s a call for you.”

  “Oh, shit.” He had almost forgotten Claire’s promise to call. “I’ll take it in the bedroom.” He moved quickly past Pierce in the doorway and hurried to his room. The red light on the phone next to his bed blinked with the waiting call. He picked it up, pressed the butt
on and found his throat locked up. He couldn’t talk. He cleared his throat and spoke, “Hello?”

  “Hi.” Claire’s voice was soft. He felt his heart pound from the sound of it.

  “Hi,” he answered back. He felt like a teenager again, all hormones and awkwardness.

  “How was the drive back?”

  “Long, boring, you know.”

  “Yeah.” She paused. “Davis, about last night—”

  “You don’t need to apologize,” he said, “I understand.”

  “Do you?” She sighed into the phone.

  Davis wished he could be there with her now, to hold her.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I don’t really think you do.”

  “Then tell me, so I do understand.” There was silence from the other end.

  “I can’t explain it,” she said softly, “I’m afraid. Our lives aren’t normal. We can’t have a normal relationship. And I’m scared of that.”

  “We’ve gone over this before, Claire. I understand that.”

  “No, Davis, you don’t. You don’t really understand.”

  He let out a breath. The conversation was turning toward dangerous waters and he didn’t want to go there. He thought before speaking. “Let’s not argue about it, Claire. The weekend was great. I had fun.”

  “I did, too.” She seemed hesitant in her response, but Davis didn't push it.

  “When can we get together again?”

  “I don’t know if we should.”

  He closed his eyes, thankful that he was taking this call in the darkness of his room. He couldn’t stomach the humiliation. “Why not?” His voice didn’t want to work. Even though they had broken up about half a dozen times, it became more and more severe. Every time felt like it could be the last.

  “I don’t know. I just can’t. Not right now.”

  Davis breathed in deeply. “All right, I understand.”

  “I’m sorry, Davis. I really am.” Her voice was quiet. “Bye.”

  Davis had to find his voice once again. When he was finally able to do so, he could only mutter a soft goodbye. The phone in his hand went dead. She had hung up.

  For a long moment, he just sat there, curling his fingers around the phone. He felt numb. It had happened again.

  When he found the ability to move, he placed the phone back on its receiver. At least he knew her answer. It was no.

  Always no.

  The digital clock beside his bed flipped over to six-fifty. The lecture was starting soon. He had to get there. He needed something to get his mind off Claire.

  He went to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He ran a comb through his hair. His reflection in the mirror looked like him, but was paler, worried. He hoped the others wouldn’t see through it.

  The disappointment was enough humiliation for now. He smiled bleakly, but hated the effect. He couldn’t pull it off.

  Damn her, he thought. Damn her for twisting my emotions around. Maybe I do have strong feelings for her. Maybe I do love her.

  On second thought, he couldn’t face the others. He went back to his bedroom, undressed and climbed into the comfort of the sheets. Maybe sleeping on it would help.

  Maybe not.

  Not if he dreamed of Claire.

  * * *

  “Cheyenne, pick up the goddamn phone,” Rose growled into her cell. It rang three times, then four. The voicemail picked up. She waited for the beep then spoke.

  “Cheyenne, it’s Rose. I need a place to crash for a couple of days. Call me back on my cell as soon as you get this. It’s very important.” She even put an edge in her voice to make it sound more convincing. Not that she needed it.

  She sighed in exasperation as she hit the end call button on her silver phone and tossed it into the passenger’s seat beside her. Glen’s van was a hulking piece of machinery and hard to handle. She’d do better to steer with both hands if she wanted to make it home in one piece.

  Home. It wasn’t really that any more. It was more like a residence, a place where she slept and ate, but didn’t really live. It hadn’t been a home since they had gotten married.

  No, don’t think of him, she told herself. He’s not worth it.

  But she couldn’t stop her mind from drifting back to Jason. Her eyes welled with tears, but she angrily forced them to stop. She wasn’t going to cry, no matter how hurt she was. She had cried enough this weekend.

  Rose kept her eyes firmly fixed on the road. It was growing dark, but she was nearly

  home. Once there, she could pack her things and find a place to stay. Jason would find her, eventually, but until then, she could regroup her thoughts and try to come up with some plan of action. She felt she had no other option.

  She would stay with Cheyenne, if she could get in touch with her. If not, she would have to think of another alternative. Rose blinked a few times. She knew this road. Just a few more miles.

  A memory flashed in her mind, powerful enough to almost cause her to hit the brakes. This was the road she had traveled so many years ago in desperation. She had been bleeding then, a silver bullet stuck in the muscle of her shoulder. She remembered the little prayers she uttered to keep herself alive, aware enough to make it home. Now, she was praying for something else.

  She glanced over at her phone, shaking the unwanted memory from her head. Cheyenne hadn’t called yet.

  Damn it, where am I going to go?

  A thought occurred to her suddenly and she grabbed the phone without hesitation. She looked down at the bright blue screen and punched in a single digit. The number for the PRDI safe house began to dial and she held the phone to her ear.

  It rang several times before Claire picked up.

  “Hello,” she answered. Her voice sounded strained. She sniffed, as if she had been crying.

  “It’s Rose. Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. What’s up?”

  “Did you and Davis have another argument?” Rose asked. She balanced the phone between her ear and shoulder.

  “Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Listen, Jason and I are…having some troubles. Can I crash at the safe house for a few days?”

  “If you want,” Claire said. “What’s going on?”

  “The usual. Relationships are a bitch.”

  “I hear that.” There was a short pause. “If you feel you need to, then stop by. I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

  “Thanks, Claire. You’re a sweetheart.”

  “So I’ve been told.” She laughed, but it sounded forced. Rose didn't think on it much. Her driveway was up ahead.

  “I’ll see you later.” She hung up the phone and tossed it aside. That settled, she prepared herself for what she had to do.

  The long gravel driveway seemed so long and forlorn. The cabin could be seen from the road, a dark speck on the horizon. Jason wasn’t there, but then again, she hadn’t really expected him to be.

  She pulled the van around in the driveway, parking close to the front porch. The brakes squealed loudly and she winced as she put it in park. Thank God she wasn’t trying to be stealthy.

  She climbed down from the van and up the front steps. She fumbled for the keys and found them. She pushed open the door and yellow light spilled into the living room as she flipped on the light.

  The house seemed so empty, lonely and silent. She didn’t like it, but there was nothing she could do about it. She wouldn’t be long.

  Rose walked down the hall and into the bedroom. The bed was unmade, just how she left it, but she didn’t care. She grabbed her luggage from the closet and opened it. She scoured the closet, laying clothes onto the suitcase as she searched for things to pack. She had just stepped into the bathroom to grab some toiletries when she heard the roaring of a car engine.

  “No.” She stared at her reflection briefly in the mirror. Her face went pale. A second later, the engine cut off and a door slammed. Footsteps sounded loud on the porch. She heard the door crash as it was
thrown open. It slammed into the wall, jarring photos and knickknacks so that they clattered to the floor.

  “Rose!” Jason’s powerful bellow tore through the house. She froze in the bathroom doorway. He was in front of her before she had a chance to breathe.

  “You are not leaving me.” His hands gripped her shoulders tightly, painfully. His eyes were wild, golden. He pulled her close to him.

  “Jason, let—”

  “I won’t let you go, Rose. I can’t.”

  “You’re hurting me!”

  He wouldn’t let go. His fingernails bit into her flesh, drawing blood. “Rose, you can’t do this to me. I won’t let you.”

  “Let go of me,” she cried and finally broke free. She pulled away from him, his nails digging into her skin. The wounds burned. Jason staggered back, colliding with the wall behind him. “You cannot push me around, Jason. I’ve made up my mind.”

  Jason snarled as he stepped forward. He reached out to grab her, but she moved fast and ducked under his arm. She was in the living room before he could react.

  “I’m going, Jason. I can’t take this anymore.” She stared at him, vision blurred with tears. “This is it. I have had it.”

  Jason hurried forward, his face a mask of fury. “Don’t you dare,” he warned through clenched teeth.

  “Or you’ll do what, Jason? Hit me?”

  Jason took one more step forward, as if he considered doing it. She was frightened suddenly and took a step back. Just how unstable had her husband become?

  Before she could think on it anymore and before Jason reached her, the patio doors shattered, glass spilling onto the floor as they were thrown open. The force nearly knocked the doors from their hinges.

  Simon stood between the doors, large hands clenched into hard fists. Golden eyes blazed with anger, with triumph. His were-scent was strong. Water dripped from drenched clothes, wetting the floor around him.

  Rose screamed as Simon charged forward, muscles bulging beneath his clothes as they began to rip and tear to accommodate his new body.

  And Jason met him just as claws and teeth were bared.