Moonlight Hunters: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (The Witch and the Wolf Pack Book 2)

by K. R. Alexander

  I looked around at him, leaning back to the window so our faces had space. “Isaac told me about their father being killed by the pack because he drank and hurt humans. Is Jed a drinker?”

  “Not these days. He doesn’t need it.” Andrew’s smile was malicious. “He’s an arsehole all by himself. He was a mean pup, and he’s a mean wolf. I won’t go on and on about him. I’m not trying to poison you against anyone. But to answer why the reputation, that’s mostly from his fighting a wolf when he’s in fur and they’re in skin. It’s such a law among our kind, so back-handed, so evil, it’s hardly even mentioned in the rules. One of those things everyone knows.

  “But Jed’s done it, bitten wolves in skin and been in serious trouble over it. One time he went for Kage. This was a few years ago. Kage and Jed used to be close as bark on a tree, cousins and best friends growing up, but there’d been ten kinds of trouble between Jed and Kage and Jason for a long time. Jed finally decided to sort matters by taking Kage out when Kage was in skin and couldn’t defend himself. It took three wolves to pull Jed off. Kage couldn’t change for weeks, his wounds were so serious. And Jed went on lockdown for months—Zacharias had him in the cuff and everything. Lockdown means he’s not allowed to put on fur.”

  I longed to ask for the backstory with trouble between Jason and Kage with Jed, having already wondered about this, but I was careful of more questions. One topic.

  I only said, “Sounds like a long time ago. And there was already a rift. That doesn’t mean anyone involved is an inherently bad person.”

  Andrew made a face. “You don’t understand because you’re not in the culture. What Jed did… Think if you had bullies around you. Always fighting and always tossers around each other. And, one day, one of them pulled a gun and shot at the other’s head. To us, that’s what it’s like. Doesn’t matter what Kage did. Doesn’t matter if Kage stole his bike and wrecked his workshop and pissed on his door. You just don’t shoot someone in the face.”

  I nodded, thinking over the analogy.

  “Jed’s always on probation. He took after his sire all along. He looked up to his big brother when he was younger—one force that could get him to mind. Then young Gabriel left, no idea what happened to him, and Jed got more and more like his dad. While Gabriel Senior was still alive, Jed was pure bad news. In the years since he’s been dead, Jed’s been even more … gone. He cuts himself off, stays away from everyone. It’s unnatural. Wolves are socially dependent. An isolated wolf can go mad.

  “Maybe that’s why he took up with the Beech Pack. That lasted nearly a year—him being gone. We thought he’d converted: wouldn’t be back. Then he came home with his tail between his legs, hating all of them more than us, apparently. I’ve never heard him say a word about being there. He’ll start fights just for anyone bringing them up.

  “That night you thought you’d chat with him? I didn’t think he’d have a go at you, but it was worrying. Then Zar spotted him showing his teeth and…”

  “That’s why Zar was so upset?” I looked down at the dark purple bruise on my inner forearm, still painful to the touch. “He really had reason to think Jed would bite me?”

  “If you want Beech information, find someone else to ask. Talk to the elders about the Beeches. Diana’s had contact with them.”

  “Diana wouldn’t even tell me the Beeches were a suspect.”

  “She doesn’t want to believe it. None of us want to think it’s our own kind.”

  “Anyway, she doesn’t know. She hasn’t seen them recently. Not in years, right?”

  “A few messages passed.” Andrew shook his head. “That’s all I know of.”

  “Jed’s the only Sable who’s even seen them, much less lived with them, in what? Five years? Ten years?”

  “At least.”

  After a pause, I said, “It’s got to be him. And I’ve got to be the one to talk to him. He’s obviously no fan of yours—any of you.”

  “Ever cross your mind to think that a bloke can give a female flowers and still be a proper bastard anyway?”

  I sighed and looked to the window. “I don’t know what else to do. We’ve got one more sensible lead here and it’s this other pack. I’ve got to at least try.”

  “You don’t. Whatever you do for us, you’re only doing as a favor.”

  “No … I do. At this point, I do.”

  Andrew watched my eyes for a long time again.

  “Thank you,” I said at last. “I appreciate the information.”

  “I haven’t started yet. You know that. I saw you wanting to ask questions that you didn’t.”

  “I’m not paying you for them so I guess I’m limited.”

  “I offer discounts on trains."

  “Do you?" I asked. "What do you want for one more?”

  “Only a kiss.”

  “I’ll give you my hand. Briefly. Best offer.”

  “Deal.”

  “What’s the thing with Jason and Jed you just mentioned? Jason doesn’t seem the type to pick fights, then he pokes Jed like a kid poking a hornet’s nest.”

  Andrew’s lips curved up in that rather malicious smile again. “That goes back years also. The trouble with them was how Kage and Jed fell out of favor. Once they grew out of yearlings, Kage chose Jason over Jed. A wolf gets to a certain age and he’d rather buddy up with someone he wants to sleep with than just raise hell with. Nowadays, though, Jason starts fights with Jed, especially in fur, so Kage will come to his rescue. You can imagine what a thrill that is.”

  I frowned into the glass. “He only wants Kage to save him? To get attention from Kage and rub it in that Kage cares more about him and will fight Jed for him?”

  Andrew grinned. “And you thought Jason was the nice wolf, didn’t you?”

  Actually … I had. Him and Zar. I must never ask Andrew anything about Zar. Let Zar’s actions and words speak for themselves.

  “Kage must understand what’s going on,” I said.

  “Sure. They all know.” Andrew scoffed. “But what’s Jed going to do? Jed hates Jason like you wouldn’t believe. He won’t let it slide when Jason has a go at him. And Kage hates Jed these days. They’re eager for any excuse. After what Jed did to him…? It’s probably the worst rivalry in the pack. Diana aims to rehabilitate and offer disagreeable wolves chances for their own growth. That’s why she sent Jed on this trip. And no one knew Jason would be along. You just ended up in poor company, I’m afraid. At least Moon blessed you with a stowaway.”

  “Thank Goddess for stowaways,” I said dryly, offering my hand while still watching him in the glass.

  Andrew lifted my fingers to his lips, kissed, and drew my fingertips into his mouth.

  The way that made me feel, I wished I’d gone for the simple kiss instead. At this rate, I wasn’t going to get any more thinking done on the journey about how to approach either Melanie or Jed anyway, so why not?

  I added one more question as my breaths quickened and Andrew held two fingers in his mouth, biting and running his tongue around them.

  “What about you? Why do you tease Jed so much?”

  He took a moment to answer, changing to kisses on the insides of my fingers. “Equal opportunity, darling. I’ll tease anyone with ears. But … it does make it more fun to get a brisk reaction.”

  He slipped my fingers into his mouth and I sat there, watching the glass, eyes unfocused, while my heart and whole body reacted more “briskly” than I liked to his touch.

  Chapter 14

  I had no answers for Melanie by the time I reached her home with a view of Brighton’s red pebble beach. By night, this view was nothing but the black English Channel, only the sounds of waves making it seem real.

  A lack of answers was a mistake. I knew it before turning my key in the lock. I knew it much more when I was met by my petite, blonde sister waiting up for me in the kitchen with herbal tea and an order for me to sit down: no waiting until morning to talk, no BS.

  We sat at her antique wood table tha
t was so thick and sturdy it could have been used as a ramp for cart horses.

  I didn’t want peppermint tea. I wanted to be asleep. But I held it, looking into the mug to avoid looking at Melanie, while she told me how worried she’d been. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been in touch by text. It was just that I hadn’t really told her anything in those texts other than I’d nipped up to London and would be back soon.

  She never was a coffee drinker. Now she’d committed to tea—herbal or real—since marrying Henry and landing in this country.

  “If you had other plans for your time here, you could have told me, Cass.” She didn’t sound angry. She sounded hurt and scared, making me feel so much worse. “You know you can tell me anything. Now you’ve got me totally freaked out and this isn’t like you. You’re supposed to be the responsible one, right? I want this to be a vacation for you and fun for you. You put other people first too much and I’m glad you’re here doing your own thing. But you’ve got to tell me.”

  It was true. Melanie was older but we’d had a role reversal thing all our lives.

  I was the responsible one, the reader, making lists, checking that everyone was where they should be at the right time—all ducks in a row in my busy family. Melanie was the older: fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants, leave homework to the last minute, spend three hours on the phone with a boy, wander through a park and lose track of time watching the sunset, always late.

  After our mom died, when I was thirteen and Mel was fifteen, we’d grown closer, at least for a while. Then my grandmother had pulled me out of school, insisting I come and stay with her in New Mexico, 750 miles from Cattahoo, Missouri.

  Nana had homeschooled me for part of my high school years in order to continue my magical education that my mother had left incomplete. That was why, at fourteen, I’d gone from Tiny Town USA to high desert Land of roadrunners and rattlesnakes. And tarantulas. I’d had a spider issue long before then. Northern New Mexico made it a lot worse.

  Five years with Nana had inspired me to become a teacher myself, yet I’d lost her as well while in college in Portland. She never saw me graduate in the flesh. On the flip side, she never had to see my life choices that she would not have agreed with: like giving up magic. It was only with my mentor gone from this life, and myself a stranger in a big city, facing my own future, that I’d realized I didn’t have to be a witch at all. I could be a normal person, interested in Wiccan philosophy, perhaps. But no more peculiar than that.

  A conscious decision to stop lying. Mundane forever.

  It had also been in college that my relationship with my sister had again grown stronger, mostly by travel. We’d had several trips together, from the Oregon Coast to the English Cotswolds. Then Melanie had met Henry and the rest was her own little English fairy tail—and my joy to get to visit.

  Visit as a normal person. No secrets.

  And here I was, out of school, ready to start work, a trip to be with her and really celebrate these new choices and adult life and turning over from student to teacher.

  No witches allowed.

  Instead, from the moment I’d arrived in Brighton, I’d been involved in the magical world. I had, in fact, been far more involved in the magical world at large in the past week than I ever had before in my life. But Melanie only knew my two-week vacation had shrunk to one week remaining, that she’d hardly set eyes on me since I’d reached England, and that a good chunk of my time away had been unexplained—while what was explained relied on fuzzy logic.

  “Mel,” I said after some time of her talking and me giving one-word answers. “I’m sorry I scared you and I couldn’t give you information you deserved. The truth is … I don’t actually have any better news. I’ll have to leave again, I think. At least for a few days. I’ll make it up to you. I really, really wanted to spend this time with you. I’ll come back. Christmas break maybe? And stay as long as I can. I love being here with you both. Even if I haven’t been acting like it.”

  “You’re not hearing me, Cassia.” For the first time, she sounded angry. “I don’t want your apologies. I don’t want to ruin this trip for you. This is your vacation. Not mine. But you’re scaring me. All I want is to know what’s going on.”

  I just sat, looking into my mug at the brownish, greenish liquid and teabag still in there.

  Melanie waited.

  I heard a clock tick in the living room. Waves through open windows. A car going past on the street.

  My throat felt too tight to speak, my mouth too dry. I sat there a long time in silence until I could make the words.

  “I’m part of a society that you don’t know about,” I said at last.

  “You’d be surprised.”

  I finally looked up. “What do you mean?”

  “History conference? There was no history conference in Brighton last weekend. And I couldn’t find one in Cornwall either.”

  I swallowed very carefully, as if my throat could tear. “This group of people, this society, it’s not public knowledge—”

  “You’re in a cult, aren’t you? Is that really why Nana wanted you there? Did she get you into this?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not a cult. It’s just a society like a … historical reenactment society. We’re not hurting anyone or brainwashing anyone to follow a faith or ideals. But it’s a … private group.” I swallowed again. “There are some of these people here. I met with them last weekend. That was supposed to be it—a get together, some talks. I swear, that’s all I knew about in advance. I was never trying to pull anything over on you. But some of them approached me to help them and … I think I can help—”

  “This is dangerous, isn’t it? I knew it was or you’d just have told me what was happening in the first place. Have you gone to the police? What are you trying to do?”

  I squeezed the mug. “I can’t tell you anything about it, Mel.” I met her eyes. “But I’m perfectly safe with them. Because, yes, it may be dangerous, what we’re doing, and they’re concerned about keeping me safe. They invited me to stay with them tonight, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me being here. We haven’t had any hint that anyone’s wanting to hurt me. Just being careful. I have to go back again. But I’ll make sure to be with you for at least a couple days before I have to fly out.”

  “You should talk to the police. Even if you can’t tell me—”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered and stood up, taking my mug. “I’m really, really sorry this trip is not going as planned—for both of us. And I’m sorry I can’t tell you more. I’ll be here tomorrow. I want to spend time with you more than anything. That was the whole point of this—always the point. But I’ll visit again. This … it can’t wait. Sorry, Mel.”

  She watched me walk to the stairs with my head bowed over the mug, shoulders hunched, as if I were being pelted with stones.

  Somehow, I wished I were. Then at least I would have had a distraction from how I felt walking away from her, from my own lies, my own grief, and my own shame for what I was doing to the only close person I had left in my family.

  Chapter 15

  After the day with Melanie—I slept through some, then it was the two of us in the kitchen, her teaching me to make English scones and Henry’s favorite shepherd’s pie—I was supposed to return to the mobile home park. They would have debriefed the elders already. What I really wanted tonight was information on the Beech Pack.

  I scried on my own in my guest bedroom, turning up nothing more than woods and shadow figures of wolves running through moonlight. Not exactly eye-opening.

  Isaac was supposed to pick me up, probably after work in the city. I’d washed my hair with Melanie’s coconut lavender shampoo that morning, avoiding all citrus, and wished we’d made cookies instead of scones. Although none of this had anything to do with me calling him before dinner, again in my room, voice hushed.

  “Would there be any chance of Rebecca coming with the car instead?”

  “Of course, I’ll speak to her.”
r />   “Or I could get a cab—”

  “Don’t worry about it, Cassia. I’m sure Rebecca will be glad to give you a lift.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “It’s all right.” His voice was very calm: very normal. “Is Melanie upset?”

  I took a breath. “We’ve both been trying to enjoy the day but … yes: scared, worried. And I’m making it worse because I can’t tell her and have to go out again.”

  “Why don’t you stay there tonight? I’ll try talking to Jed. Everyone will be around this evening—”

  “It’s got to be me. And this is time-sensitive. I’ll be back to see Mel again. I didn’t mean to complain about it. It’s only … I love her and I’ve done nothing but lie or avoid her since I’ve been here.”

  “That’s not complaining. You’re in a difficult situation. If we can do anything to help, like send Rebecca, we’ll do that. And, if you want to talk, I’m always happy to listen. I’m still in town but I’ll be there later when you are.”

  “Thank you. I really… I’ve got to go. Thanks, Isaac.”

  After dinner with Melanie and Henry, I collected my backpack—reset with a clean change of clothes and overnight things, though I had no idea if I’d be staying over anywhere but here.

  Soon after, Rebecca knocked on the door.

  I introduced her to Melanie, resisting hugging Rebecca just for being there looking so normal with her long hair like silk, her very human summer dress and appearance, and her old sedan instead of a gleaming motorcycle.

  Melanie also seemed surprised by her. Naturally, she’d been expecting someone odd. Not the pretty girl next door with an open smile and eager handshake.