Hunter's Moon (The Witch Who Sang with Wolves Book 1)

by Kat Bostick

  Mari answered for him. “Yes, most likely. He had no way of measuring time and a lot of events are scrambled in his head. Wolf brain, y’know?”

  “And where do you fit into this, Mariella Sowka?”

  She wanted to respond by explaining that she was just helping Jasper because they were friends but that felt defensive and the reality was far more complicated. Mari had no intention of giving Charlie every detail, not while her safety was so uncertain, but she had to be forthcoming enough that he trusted her. “Well, it started when Jasper—sorry, Trevor—saved me from a bad date.”

  “A bad date?” Charlie echoed.

  “Yeah, like record breaking bad.” She did her best to sound laid-back, as if recalling Jacob bothered her as much as a mosquito. Her tone behaved but her hands didn’t. Coffee splashed over the rim of her mug and onto Jasper’s head, which was once again in her lap. Ignoring the hot liquid, he twisted to give her a comforting nuzzle. “Shit, I’m sorry, Jas.” Mari hastily set the mug back on the tray and dabbed the coffee with her sleeve.

  He pushed her arm aside, training fierce eyes on her. “Dead.” The word resounded in her head as if he said it aloud.

  “You’re right.” She whispered, rubbing gentle fingers over Jasper’s ears and clutching the fur on the side of his face. “He’s dead, isn’t he? No use getting upset over a dead guy.”

  All three pack members watched the interaction with extreme curiosity.

  “You’re the girl from Klein.” A new voice commented from the doorway. Leaning against the wall was a sinewy man with Chestnut brown hair, the same shade as the wolf from the forest. A fine sheen of sweat polished his light olive skin. Mari assumed this was Deak.

  If Cash looked the way Mari imagined a werewolf, Deak was what Hollywood dreamed up. Tousled hair curled around the base of his skull, slicked back where he ran agitated fingers through it. His chin was clean shaven but his sideburns, which were darker than the hair on his head, were only an inch or two away from qualifying as mutton chops. If not for his designer jeans and baby blue V-neck, Mari could have mistaken him for a wolfman from an eighties movie.

  “How do you know that?” Her breath caught.

  “Saw the story online. Not every day that a dog fitting the description of a wolf attacks two people in a city park miles from where wolves roam. Kills stank of werewolf.” Deak shrugged. Great, they knew what happened to her. At least that saved her from having to tell them the rest of the story. “Had no idea you were a witch, though.” His mouth twisted in disgust.

  “You knew where he was?” Mari turned to Charlie, her tone more aggressive than she intended. “Why didn’t you come for him? He needed your help.”

  Charlie’s lips drooped. “We didn’t know it was Trevor. We only knew it was likely a werewolf. It wasn’t in our territory and we couldn’t afford to investigate every potential werewolf incident in the states.”

  “Damn Nikolai, doesn’t even care enough to manage wolf activity in his own territory.” Deak cursed, but not as quietly as he seemed to think.

  “And for that we are grateful. He might have taken Trevor’s presence as a move by us to seize territory.” Charlie replied. “Or worse.”

  Mari couldn’t resist asking “just how many werewolf incidents are there?”

  “Why don’t you let me ask the questions? There will be plenty of time to answer yours.” Charlie quieted her with his soothing lilt. “Trevor killed your date? And the other boy?”

  “Talk about romance.” Cash snorted. “I’d have bragged much louder about ripping throats out if I knew potential mates would line up at the gate.” Clem smacked Cash on the arm for that comment.

  “Yes he killed them, but you have to understand, he did it to protect me. He wouldn’t indiscriminately kill people. He’s never done it before or since. He didn’t mean to break any rules. What happened was my fault, really. Blame me, not him.” Mari hadn’t planned to make a martyr of herself but the defense tumbled out of her mouth with earnest.

  “I can’t agree with you about whether or not he’s killed others until I hear from him. It’s noble of you but you cannot accept the responsibility for his actions. That is not our way.” Charlie said grimly.

  “He’s been a wolf for up to a year or longer. Jasper barely remembered who and what he was when we met. He acted on instinct. That is your way, the wolf’s way.”

  Charlie regarded her coolly. Actually, his face was neutral but his eyes were such a cold shade of blue that they could give a person goosebumps. “Let’s hear the rest before we pass any judgement.”

  Mari spent the next hour telling Charlie everything that happened over the past two months. Well, almost everything. She left out the part about her rites and her enlightening meeting with Gran. In fact, she did her best to avoid any mention of her grandmother. It was too raw. Each time Gran’s name slipped off her tongue it felt like pressing fingers into a fresh wound before it had the chance to scab over.

  Maybe it would heal better if she stopped shoving her grief back into the tidy boxes in her head rather than facing it.

  “I’m very troubled by this witch business.” Charlie didn’t seem nearly troubled enough in Mari’s opinion. “I do appreciate the information you’ve given us but it would be beneficial if we could speak to Trevor. I’ve never heard of a curse that can prevent a change. Clementine?”

  “We’ve all heard the horror stories of wolves stuck between changes. Nothing that I can recall pertains to witches.” Clem looked up like she was visually searching her brain for more. “There is one type of magic that might be able to fuel such a curse.” She gave Charlie a meaningful look. Something was exchanged between them in that one glance but Mari couldn’t tell what.

  The unspoken message made her stomach jump. Could they know about her magic? Mari wasn’t entirely convinced of it herself. Much of the information Gran gave her was remembered from stories told when she was only a child. All that Mari really had to prove Gran’s words was a family legacy that she couldn’t read and a moon drunk memory of Jasper changed.

  “I think you can break it, Charlie.” Mari suggested hopefully.

  I think I might be able to break it too but I’m worried you’ll kill me if I admit it. Unless Jasper changed back into a man on every full moon and simply didn’t remember it before the last time. Or that was wishful thinking because she was afraid Charlie would find her out at any moment.

  “Why?”

  Mari unzipped her backpack and dug through her now disorganized belongings for her research notebook. She thumbed through pages until she found the one detailing dreams featuring the witch, including the one she’d blindly scribbled down in the car last night. The ink was smudged where her hand had been wet but it was mostly legible.

  “The witch tested his obedience by ordering him to kill a man. Even though his brain was all zonked out from magic, Jasper remembered your command. You said ‘we do not kill man.’ Those words gave him the strength to resist.” Mari licked her pointer finger and turned the page, skimming for the next note. “Your voice was always one of his clearest memories.”

  He scratched his chin. “Some say there is magic in the word of an alpha.”

  “And, speaking of alpha magic,” Mari licked her finger again. “You can call on his change, can’t you? You’ve done it before.”

  “How would you know that?” Charlie asked.

  She cocked one sardonic brow. “Am I wrong?”

  “I’ve called the man from the wolf before but the circumstances were different.” Charlie noticed Mari open her mouth for another question and said “A story for another time.”

  “You’ve kept notes?” Clem perked up. “Did you record all of your dreams? Do you mind if I take a look?”

  “I wrote down everything I could.” She leaned around Jasper to hand Clem the notebook.

  Clem silently studied the pages before snorting in amusement, totally shattering the image of the poised professional as she failed to suppress her snic
kering. Once she finally got a handle on herself she looked up at Mari with eyebrows raised high. “Do I want to know why you wrote down some of these questions?”

  Mari’s cheeks flushed. She’d forgotten that all of her research was in that notebook, even the embarrassing questions that she made Jasper answer after discovering the werewolf romance genre. “I didn’t know anything about werewolves and he couldn’t exactly explain. Most of what I had to go on was from books and movies. You wouldn’t believe what happens in some of those books…” The heat wave on her face worsened.

  Cash dashed around the chair and snatched the notebook up. “What the hell is a mating mark? And a destined mate? Oh-ho-ho, look at that. ‘Are werewolves sex obsessed?’ Christ, I hope you weren’t asking that from first-hand experience.”

  “Don’t be a perv!” Mari knew she sounded too irate but she was absolutely mortified. “I was only asking questions based on the stories I could find. Apparently some people have bizarre ideas—er, fantasies—about shapeshifters.”

  “Uh-huh.” Cash started carelessly flicking pages.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re nosy?” She squirmed in her seat, intending to get up and snatch the book back. Jasper twisted off the couch and planted paws on her thighs, anchoring her in place. “He’s going through my stuff. Again.” Mari complained.

  “Cash Ronan Dunne! Give me the book and for once in your life behave yourself without levity.” Clem did the perfect impression of a scolding mother. Could she be Cash’s mother? They looked about the same age but according to Jasper, werewolf aging was tricky.

  “Oh, I take sex very seriously. I am obsessed, after all.” The big man dangled the book over Clem’s head.

  Mari rolled her eyes. “You must be the exception then because you’ll notice the answer I got was ‘no.’”

  “You only asked one wolf. That’s no way to get accurate information. You’ll have to do a survey. I’ll volunteer myself as your first interviewee. Ask away, pumpkin. I’ll even give you a demonstration if it will help with your little science project.” Cash waggled his eyebrows. Clearly unhappy with the flirtation, Jasper growled so menacingly that it made Mari flinch. Cash handed the notebook to Clem and put up both palms to placate the angry wolf. “I’m only teasin’.”

  “You know what else those books got wrong about werewolves?” Mari covered her mouth to hide a bored yawn. “They always describe male wolves as gorgeous Greek gods.” She let her eyes trail up Cash’s upper body until they met his. “Huh, how disappointing.”

  Cash forgot about Jasper’s warning and rebounded with “You must not have gotten a good enough look this morning. Maybe you need a private show.”

  Jasper lunged between the two arm chairs and snapped his teeth. His jaws missed Cash’s arm by a hair and only because Charlie gripped his scruff with surprising force. That elicited another rumbling growl, this time directed at the alpha.

  “That’s quite enough from all of you.” Charlie gave Jasper a swift shove. The wolf glowered at Cash and planted himself in front of Mari with disapproving grunt. “Trevor’s little witch has walked through fire to bring him back to us. Show some respect.” Charlie’s tone was admonishing but there was a glitter of mischief in his eyes. “But I would love to look at your research notes. Out of scientific curiosity, of course. "

  Clem narrowed her eyes at something on the page then cocked her head in a curious animal’s gesture. “What kind of witch are you? Are you strictly a psychic?”

  “My maternal bloodline practices earth magic and…” Mari hesitated, chewing the nail on her thumb. She recalled her grandmother’s words. “Find the pack. Tell them what you are.” This was the moment to do that if she was going to. A satisfying excuse for her secrecy formed in her head all on it’s own. There was nothing to tell them because Mari didn’t have a word for what she was. A green witch. A garden witch. Technically, that was all she knew of herself for certain.

  There was one hang up; Jasper had the truth. If things went well, he could be talking sooner rather than later. Would he tattle on her? Of course. He had to be loyal to pack first. This omission would only buy her time to make a new plan. Not that she’d succeeded in making a good one thus far.

  “…there should be more answers in here,” Mari held up the family legacy “but not very much of it is in English. I haven’t been able to decipher it.”

  “You know too little of your heritage.” Clem chided.

  Mari clenched her jaw. “Yup, I’m aware of that.”

  “Well isn’t this an exciting turn of events!” Charlie clapped his hands together with a boyish grin. “It’s been too long since we’ve had a houseguest.”

  “You can’t be serious, Charlie!” Deak whipped his head in Mari’s direction. “You brought Trevor home. Wonderful, thanks for proving that your kind is capable of more than behaving like vengeful harpies. Now kindly leave our territory and don’t come back.”

  Clem’s brows pinched together. “You’re being discourteous, Deak.”

  “I won’t stay under the same roof as a witch!”

  Charlie ignored Deak’s outburst and instead called “Cora? Come down here please.” Two seconds later a short blonde with big doe eyes popped around the corner. “Trevor is home and he’s brought a guest.”

  Cora squeezed Deak’s side in a hug, which he returned halfheartedly, hateful gaze still trained on Mari. “I told you he would come back! Hey sugar, welcome home.” The she-wolf said in a honeyed southern drawl. A coquettish smile pulled at her lips but it quickly drooped into a distrustful moue when she spotted Mari. “What’s all the yellin’ about, Dee?

  “Cora, this is Mari. She’s responsible for Trevor’s homecoming—”

  “She’s a witch, Coralee. Trevor brought a witch here.” Deak interrupted.

  Cora’s face whitened and her eyes rounded. “W-why? You let her in, Charlie?”

  Charlie’s face was stone but his tone was cheerful as ever. “Trevor brought home a mate and I have welcomed her. Don’t let old fears rule your life, Coralee.”

  “Mate?” Cora swallowed.

  “Some fears have origins. They don’t rule us, they keep us safe.” Deak snarled. “Don’t you think it’s more than a little suspicious that he shows up with a curse and a witch? One isn’t possible without the other.”

  Mari stood, not willing to quietly accept such virulence. “What exactly is in this for me? Do you think I want to be in the far-flung corners of Minnesota with nothing of my own, surrounded by strangers?” She planted her fists on her hips. “My grandmother spat the same words when she met Jasper. Doesn’t it bother you to know you behave like a prejudiced old witch?”

  “It’s because of hateful old witches that I know not to trust your kind.” Deak whirled toward the front door, calling “I’m not coming back until she’s gone!” over his shoulder.

  “It’s going to be a long summer for you then.” Charlie sighed as if he was handling a two year old’s irrational temper tantrum.

  Cora stood uncomfortably in the doorway, her mouth opening and closing. Finally she looked at Jasper, her watery brown eyes almost pleading. “How could you do this? We spent months cryin’ over you and this is how you repay our grief?”

  “Coralee,” Cash said her name so tenderly that it was almost a tangible caress between them, but she shrugged it off and followed Deak out the front door.

  “That went better than expected.” The grin returned to Charlie’s face and he rose. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to leave hosting up to you, Clementine. Probably for the better. Coralee isn’t fond of newcomers.”

  “Is he actually going to leave?” Mari was beginning to feel uncomfortable about this. She anticipated hostility from the pack but from all of them, not a select few. Sewing resentment between the alpha and his wolves wasn’t going to make her more welcome here.