Stalk the Moon

by Jessica Lynch

Apparently so.

  “Yes. I remember you—her telling me.”

  I let his slip-up pass. “And she left the guy like that?”

  “No. Acteon courted her wrath and Artemis...” Hunter lets out a low, mournful whistle. “She’s got quite the temper when riled up.”

  I try not to think about how much time I’ve spent fuming since I fell through the mirror. Instead, I ask, “Then what did she do?”

  He looks uneasy. Maybe I’m getting better at reading him—or maybe he’s stopped shutting down around me—but I can see the flicker in his expression. He’s wondering how much he should tell me. After the confrontation with Alex at the cabin, he’s got to be second-guessing himself. If he lies, he’s screwed. If he’s honest—

  “She turned his own hunting dogs loose on him. They tore the stag to shreds.”

  The image he puts into my head is violent, vicious, and vindictive. I flinch.

  Holy shit. Artemis is a fucking psycho.

  Hunter’s face closes off. I’m willing to bet a portal out of this place that he’s kicking himself.

  And then he admits, “I shouldn’t have told you that,” and I know I’m right.

  “No. I’m glad you did.” I mean it, too. “I think I understand this place a little better now.”

  Understand it, yeah, and am frantic to escape it. Maybe, if I find a portal and prove Alex wrong, I can leave Artemis behind. All of this is brand new to me. I’ve never glowed back home, or did magic. There’s no scorpions or goatmen or fake brothers who shoot people for shits and giggles.

  Tomorrow. As soon as the sun is up, I’m getting the hell out of here—with Hunter’s help or without it.

  I put Hunter behind me. I can’t stand to look at him. I focus on the rest of his camp, instead.

  The lean-to is smaller than the first one I stayed in. There’s no way the two of us could fit. Good thing I have no plans to let him near me anytime soon.

  I refuse to turn around. One look at his face and I might reconsider. “The tent is mine?”

  “All yours.”

  “Good night, Hunter.”

  “Noelle, please—”

  My fingers start to glow. It takes the last bit of energy I have to tamp it down.

  I glance over my shoulder at him. My cloak is open, my hands hanging free.

  Did he see that?

  There’s a tic in his jaw, his lips pressed into a thin line.

  Yup. He saw that.

  I pull the cloak closed and keep on walking. One foot in front of the other. I can do this.

  No choice, Noelle. I go down, the only way I’m getting up again is with Hunter’s help. Hell if I’ll give him the satisfaction. He already got me in his arms once today. I won’t give him another chance to get me to change my mind.

  The moment I duck into the small lean-to, I collapse on the ground. Crawling over to the mound of furs at the back, I climb into the musty, dusty pile and immediately pass out.

  22

  I don’t dream. Thank friggin’ God.

  Even better? When I drag myself out of the tent, Hunter is sizzling bacon in a pan over the campfire.

  I’m not an idiot. I know it’s a peace offering. He’s probably thinking that it worked yesterday morning. I don’t blame him for sticking with what works.

  My stomach grumbles. That settles that. Even if I was stubborn enough to refuse it, I won’t. I’m so hungry, I’m willing to accept the bacon for what it is.

  Flexing my fingers, rolling my head on my neck, I take stock of how I feel. My headache is gone. My appetite is back with a vengeance. As for that strange fatigue, I’ve got to admit, I’m doing okay. Hunter was right when he told me that I’d be all better today. Nothing hurts and my strength has returned, too.

  All in all, I’m in a far more forgiving mood as I approach Hunter at the fire. The scent of sizzling bacon in the air makes my mouth water. And that’s not at all.

  I try to tell myself it’s not the sight of Hunter crouched down by the fire, tending to the pan, turning the bacon with the flat of his knife. Colossal failure. Why does he have to be so damn sexy? It makes it so much harder to stay mad at him.

  My shadow falls in front of him. He lifts his head.

  His expression is guarded. “Mornin’.”

  “Bacon almost done?”

  “Uh, yeah. I can serve you some now.”

  “Sounds great.”

  Reaching for the two metal plates he has set aside, he motions for me to take a seat beside him. I think about it for a second. Bacon’s gone a long way in me being civil. Sitting down next to him, though? That’s pushing it.

  I wait until Hunter’s divvied up the cooked bacon—pretending not notice he gave me twice as much as his portion again—and then purposely move to the other side of the campfire. I decide to stay standing. I kind of like towering over Hunter.

  Hunter looks disappointed, but he doesn’t say a word.

  I watch him as I eat. He plays with his bacon, picking up a slice and putting it back down. He keeps his eyes on his plate, like he’s afraid to catch my gaze. I catch him peeking over at me a couple of times.

  It hits me after a while. The bacon, the gentlemanly attitude, the leery way he sneaks a look my way. That’s guilt all right. He’s practically swimming in it.

  Alex’s voice pops in my head, reminding me about using Hunter’s guilt to my advantage. I know from experience what a powerful motivator guilt can be. When I was a kid, I used it against my mom all the time.

  Question is: will it work on Hunter?

  Only one way to find out.

  “You know,” I begin, purposely adopting a conversational tone, “it’s kinda quiet. No one’s actively trying to kill you or me at the moment. Why don’t you tell me about this place?” I crunch one of my last pieces of bacon with more force than I need to. “Even after being here a couple of days, I don’t know anything about it at all. We proved that yesterday. If I’ve got some reason for being here, I should know more about the Other, right?”

  He’s quiet, and I’d bet the rest of my bacon that he’s trying hell to come up with a way to change the subject. I’m prepared for him to admit that that’s one more thing added to the ever-growing pile of “things Noelle doesn’t need to know”. His eyes look past me, his lips thin, and I hold my breath.

  And then he nods.

  “What do you want to know?”

  Holy shit. Alex was right.

  I try not to let my surprise show. “Anything you want to tell me.”

  He picks up a stick, twisting it between two fingers. He focuses on that instead of me as he speaks.

  “Well, this place… we call it the Other. You know that already. You’ll get some jokers who’ll tell you this is some sorta Wonderland—don’t know why, it’s something to do with mirrors, I’m told.” He shrugs and I tilt my head at him. Hunter… he doesn’t know what Wonderland is? “Some of the others like to think that the mountains we’re heading for could be the next Olympus. Not me. I spent months in my cave and it’s nothing like the Olympus I remember.”

  Whoa. Okay. There’s so much to unpack in what he said that I don’t even know where to start. Apart from the whole Wonderland thing, what does he mean by remembering Olympus?

  And, um… cave?

  I have to ask him about that.

  “You lived in a cave?”

  “‘Course I did. I told you my portal brought me to the mountains. It disappeared almost immediately and I had nowhere else to go. So I made my home in the cave, wishin’ and prayin’ that a way home would come back. I could’ve left if I found one. I never lied about that, Noelle.”

  Touchy subject, Hunter. And we were doing so well, too.

  “No, you let me believe that you were helping me out of the kindness of your heart. Gee, thanks.”

  He tosses the stick into the fire. Glancing up at me beneath the fringe of his long lashes, there’s an earnestness in his gaze as he meets mine. “I am. I have been. I’ve done all I could f
or you and, trust me, I’ll get you a portal if that’s what you want from me. I’ll do anything for you.”

  “That’s not what Alex told me,” I shoot back, blowing right past the last thing he said. If I let myself believe that Hunter means that, I’ll be twice as crushed if I find out he’s deceived me again. “Remember? Until the stupid story is done, I’m stuck here.”

  “Archer says a lot of things.”

  I huff. “He wanted to make sure I knew what I was doing here.”

  Left unsaid is a very clear: you didn’t.

  “Only because he lives to interfere, even when he shouldn’t,” Hunter retorts. “He’s been here long enough to know how it works, I’ll give him that. It ain’t his story, though, no matter how he tries to worm his way in. I swear, when I see Apollo again—”

  “Forget him.” I wish I could. Alex, Apollo, whoever he is, I don’t want to think about him. If I do, I might have to admit that he’s right and following Hunter to the mountain is a colossal waste of time. I shake my head. “You were telling me about the portal. I want to hear about that.”

  Hunter hesitates. It’s obvious that he doesn’t want to let the topic go yet. Since it’s equally obvious that I don’t want to hear another word about my supposed twin, I leave the choice up to Hunter.

  “I found one, ya know. A portal,” he says, and I let out a soft sigh of relief. “In the same cave, too, when I was gettin’ ready to leave the mountain for good. Plenty of us come in through there and I found one.”

  “Why didn’t you take it?” I ask. Hunter said something like this once before. It boggles my mind that he would choose to stay. If I believe him—and that’s a pretty big if—then he could’ve gone home and didn’t. I don’t get it.

  He finishes his breakfast, taking his time with the last two strips of bacon. I refuse to look away. This is one answer I have to get even if I have to use the magic of guilt to get it.

  After setting his plate behind him, he wipes his hands with the rag he has tucked into his lap. He holds it out to me but I shake my head. I already wiped my greasy hands on the outside of my cloak.

  Hunter fidgets, playing with the rag, twisting it between his long, slender fingers. He dares a glance up at me. I cross my arms over my chest.

  “I couldn’t leave,” he admits at last.

  “Why not?”

  “I got sucked into the story. I’m sorry, but it’s true. When I figured out who I was, when I accepted it, I decided to stay and let it play out all the way ‘til the end. That meant waitin’ for you. It’s always been you.”

  My bacon is sitting funny in my stomach. “You don’t mean me, Hunter. You were waiting for Artemis.”

  “No, darlin’. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Because this isn’t Hunter’s usual campsite, it doesn’t take long to pack it up. He leaves the furs in the tent, the lean-to standing, and only dumps fresh dirt on the fire pit to put out the flames. He wipes the frying pan down with his rag, then stows it into the large satchel he has strapped over his back. Once his cloak is on and I do up my own without his help, we’re ready to go.

  I guess we’re doing this together then, huh?

  It’s hard to avoid another person when the clearing we’re camped in is as big as my bedroom back home. I manage, though. First, by braiding and re-braiding my hair while Hunter started to clean up breakfast. Then, when he’s preparing to leave, I wander off and take a few practice shots with my bow and arrow.

  My aim is still perfect. Even with the distraction of Hunter’s gravelly voice running on repeat in my brain, I hit every target I shoot for.

  No, darlin’, I’ve been waiting for you.

  He doesn’t mean that. He can’t.

  Right?

  I don’t know.

  It was so much easier when I could brush off all the times he called me by the wrong name. He was confused, or he thought I was someone else. After the first night, he stuck to darling but, damn it, every time he calls me Noelle, I respond. To it, to him… how sad is that? I’m glad when he calls me by my own friggin’ name.

  Everything’s changed now. All because of Alex, who—for his own selfish reasons, I’m sure—decided not to keep me in the dark. He’s the one who had to break it down for me, who made sure that I couldn’t pretend that Hunter’s calling me the wrong name is a simple case of mistaken identity.

  They both think I’m this Artemis chick. I can’t explain it. Don’t really think I want to. One thing, though? I can’t deny it.

  And that makes me scrutinize every interaction I’ve had with Hunter. Has he been waiting for Artemis to pop her head up and say ‘hi’ all along? Biding his time until I lost my temper and the glow told him that she was in charge?

  I hate that the thing that bothers me the most is Hunter’s motives. He let me believe that he was helping me. That he was going to help me get home, that the sandals were a gift for me, the cloak was cut down to my size. Yeah, right. It was all for her.

  That’s why I’m so mad. It’s because, deep down, I’m heartbroken. I’ve been passed up, pushed aside, and dumped plenty of times to recognize the signs.

  I mean, what’s the matter with Noelle? I happen to think I’m pretty awesome. What’s so great about Artemis?

  So she can turn a man into a stag. Big deal. Even with two shots of Jack in me, I can do a double tuck and almost always stick the landing. I know because I won a bet doing that once and I’m still proud.

  I don’t give him another chance to explain himself. As far as I’m concerned, he’s a forest guide and I’m simply hitching a ride as he takes me to the mountain. I might have spent the last few days waiting until I’d known him long enough to jump his bones, but I put that thought out of my mind. I can never get involved with Hunter now. It would drive me absolutely batty wondering if he saw Noelle, or a handy replacement for the real chick he’s been waiting for.

  Why did this have to get so complicated?

  And why, right when I put my attraction to Hunter to the side, does he have to go and say something like that?

  No, darlin’, I’ve been waiting for you.

  If only, Hunter.

  It’s mid-morning by the time Hunter leads me away from the campsite and into a darker copse of trees. We’re heading west, and when I realize that the only reason I know that is because a little voice in the back of my head told me, I scowl. Noelle doesn’t know crap about directions. I guess the goddess of the hunt does.

  How nice.

  It’s quiet among the trees. No birdsong. No chittering squirrels. Hunter’s footfalls are light, cushioned by the dense foliage that covers the forest’s floor. Surprisingly, my steps are almost as soft as his are. I can make out the slight slap of my sandal as it hits the ground. That’s all. It’s kind of creepy.

  After about an hour of walking, the eerie silence in the forest is broken up by a muffled shout. It’s so unexpected that I stop, looking around for the source of the scream. There’s no one there. I hurry to catch up with Hunter, who never even broke his stride.

  Not much later, I swear I hear laughter.

  Somehow, that’s worse.

  It fades, only to be replaced by other voices. I can’t make out what’s being said, it’s far enough away and it’s more a hum than anything else. When they start to grow louder and more distinct, Hunter purposely steers our path away from them.

  I’m not mad. In the last day and a half, I’ve met satyrs, men who think they’re gods (and might not be wrong), a buck who gave me a ride, a man I turned into a stag and, to top it all off, a friggin’ mermaid. The woods are definitely not as empty as I would’ve thought. Some of the high-pitched voices sound like children. No thanks. I really don’t want to see what children in the Other are like. Maybe they’re regular kids. Maybe not. It’s not worth taking any chances.

  We trudge on.

  I have a lot of time to think. The cloaked figure stalking in front of me is the focus of all of my obsessive thoughts. He leads the way, with me ca
reful to follow close behind him. It’s a beautiful day. The wind’s a soft, mellow breeze. Every now and then, it picks up, whipping my cloak around my ankles and blowing Hunter’s scent right at me. I breathe it in.

  I should be focused on finding a way out of here. Instead, I can’t stop thinking about him.

  Hunter came after me. He didn’t have to. And then I remember that it might not be me he was chasing.

  Alex said this whole thing was about a story. I don’t know why, but I believe him. Hunter’s… story, whatever it is, is obviously tied up with Artemis. She has his loyalty. The way he begged me not to leave him again makes me suspect that she also has his heart.

  I have to remember that, too. Because no matter the evidence to the contrary, I’m still Noelle. I belong in New Jersey. Let this story thing play out. I don’t think it’s going to have a happy ending either way.

  Not when I clearly have feelings for a man who thinks I’m someone else.

  There. I admit it. It’s the elephant in the room that I’ve spent the whole morning trying to pretend isn’t there.

  I want Hunter. I’ve wanted him since the moment he threw a knife at the scorpion and saved my life. It’s just—why can’t he want me, too?

  I can’t deal with this. I push that thought so far to the side, it damn near falls off the table in my mind. See? This is why I live and die by my rule. It’s been barely three days already and I could almost convince myself that I’m in love with Ryan Hunter. Imagine if I gave in to my own lusts and tried to sleep with him that first night. I’d probably be picking out china patterns by now.

  “You doin’ all right, darlin’?”

  Hunter’s gravelly voice breaks into my thoughts. So lost in my own world, I never even noticed it when he paused, turning so that he was waiting for me to pass him by. I jump, partly because he startled me and mostly because I’m not prepared to be so close to him at this very moment.

  Leaning down and into me, he reaches out to grab my shoulder. It’s another excuse for him to touch me. He’s doing that more and more. I hardly notice the static shocks anymore.

  “What?” I can feel my cheeks heat up under his intense scrutiny. They’re on fire and I’m super glad that he can’t read my mind. “I’m fine.”