Luna Proxy #5 (Werewolf / Shifter Romance)

by Flynn, Mac

  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Other Books

  Luna Proxy #5 (Werewolf / Shifter Romance)

  MAC FLYNN

  Text copyright 2016 by Mac Flynn

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission in writing from the author.

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  CHAPTER 1

  The dream again.

  I stood in the valley of death and saw that it was different. The mountains and endless nothingness were covered by a thick mist. I couldn't see my hand in front of me. The canyon was obscured. I didn't dare move for fear the dream would end with a sudden stop in the river of lava.

  "Hello?" I called.

  My voice echoed across the white expanse and answered me back with its mocking tone.

  "Hello!"

  "Fate marches on beyond our control."

  The voice came from close beside me. I gasped and jumped away. My hand flew to my gun, but holster and weapon were gone.

  A circle of fog parted and revealed Vincent. No, he wasn't the Vincent. He was something else, something darker. The Dark Vincent stood with his side towards me. His head was tilted back and his eyes looked up at the invisible sky. They were white eyes, and his hands were more like long claws.

  I frowned and moved closer to him. "What are you talking about?"

  "The fog grows thicker. He comes," the thing replied.

  I pursed my lips. This felt like a bad Shakespeare play. "Tell me who you are and what you're talking about."

  The Dark Vincent tilted his head towards me. A grin spread across his wide lips. "Are you prepared for the reflection?"

  "Stop spouting your nonsense and answer my damn questions!" I demanded.

  He chuckled. The fog floated between us and hid him from my sight.

  "Prepare yourself."

  A hard bump jolted me awake. I sat up in my car seat and looked around. There was the same bleak scenery outside the windows of Quill's car. Row after row of trees lined either side of the road and stretched up the sides of the cragged mountains that loomed over us in the distance.

  "Good morning," Quill greeted me.

  I glanced to my left at my driver. Quill sat at the wheel with a smile on his face. The clock on the dash read five in the morning.

  I collapsed against the back of my seat and ran a hand through my hair. "Damn dream. . ."

  "Now that you're awake, do you mind an interview?" he asked me. "You've been in my car for three hours now and I still haven't gotten much out of you."

  I leaned my head back and sighed. "Only if I get to interview you."

  He grinned. "That's fair. And to show you what a good guy I am, I'll let you go first."

  "How the hell did you find us?" I asked him.

  He chuckled. "That's an easy one. The paper got a call from some hiker who said he saw you guys earlier that day. He got your face from the papers and wanted a load of cash in exchange for an interview."

  I closed my eyes and a smile curled onto my lips. "Maybe I should ask for the same."

  "You're getting a free ride, and food, whenever we find somewhere to eat," he pointed out. His eyes flickered to me. "You have any more questions or is it my turn?"

  "You didn't finish your story," I told him.

  He shrugged. "I figured you guys would set out for this highway at some point, so I drove out here for a few hours. I was heading back home when I heard on the police scanner about a fire in that town-what was it's name?"

  I opened my eyes and pursed my lips. "Celatum."

  "Yeah, that place. Anyway, I thought maybe some people tried to get the reward the hard way. That's when I found you guys. Is that all you wanted to know?"

  "You said something about Fox coming after us. What was that about?" I questioned him.

  "You know that Fox owns the paper, right?" he asked me. I nodded. "He's suppressed a lot of stories in the paper that's included your 'werewolf.'"

  I raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound like a smart business move."

  "Exactly. I've been doing some digging and found out he's got some stock in Legenda Labs," he added.

  I raised an eyebrow. "What's your point? He probably has stock in every business in the city."

  "He's got a personal vendetta against your boyfriend there," he pointed out.

  I glared at him. "He's not my boyfriend, he's a lead."

  Quill grinned. "Sure he's not. Anyway, the paper trail connecting Fox to the Labs didn't tell me what they were studying. I tried to get one by Reggie that included the eyewitness accounts of a large animal escaping from the labs, but it was nixed. That makes me think Fox is hiding whatever the Labs were experimenting with."

  I glanced over my shoulder. Vincent and Bram sat in the back seat. Bram leaned against Vincent's side and both of them were fast asleep.

  "What were they doing there?" I whispered.

  "What was that?" Quill wondered.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. "It's nothing. Anyway, how far can this tin can go?"

  He glanced down at the fuel gauge. "That depends on if we find a gas station somewhere in this wilderness."

  "How far did you drive before you turned around?" I asked him.

  He shrugged and looked back at the road. "About twenty miles less than we've gone now." His eyes flickered over to me and he scrutinized my appearance. "So when was the last time you took a bath, anyway?"

  I couldn't help but smile. "Does hiking through rain count?"

  "Not if you smell like that."

  "Then some time last week."

  "If you're going to be in my car then that has to change, and soon," he insisted. "Anyway, I think it's my turn for some answers."

  I folded my arms across my chest. "That depends on the questions."

  "What do you know about those murders? The ones in the alley," he asked me.

  I glanced out the window. The trees swept by as shadowy ghosts. I'd forgotten about the first time I saw Vincent as he truly was.

  "I was there when they happened, and so was Vincent," I answered.

  "And?" Quill persisted.

  I looked away from the window and shrugged. "And Vincent turned into a werewolf and tore them to pieces."

  Quill raised an eyebrow. "Did you eat a lot of mushrooms in the woods?"

  I rolled my eyes. "I'm not high, and I'm not crazy. Vincent's a werewolf."

  Quill glanced in his rear view mirror and smirked. "No offense, but he doesn't look like he could whip an alley cat, much less the thugs that got torn apart," he commented.

  "If you don't believe me then just let us out here," I told him.

  He held up his hand and shook his head. "No, no, it's all good. So he turned into a werewolf and tore them to pieces? Why?"

  I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he was hungry."

  "Were those guys in the alley after him, or you?" Quill wondered.

  I frowned. "What's that got to do with anything?"

  He chuckled. "Nothing. So where'd you get the Pipsqueak with an attitude?"

  "Celatum. T
hings got a little hot for him so he left with us," I explained.

  "That didn't happen to be that fire, would it?" he asked me.

  I shook my head. "No, that was our brush with the authorities."

  "They were so fond of you they wanted you to stay?" he teased.

  "Something like that."

  "Anyway, where are you and the legend headed now?" he wondered.

  "Wherever his 'feeling' takes us," I replied.

  Quill raised an eyebrow. "'Feeling?' You guys have been following a 'feeling?'"

  "Tell me about it. . ." I muttered.

  "Actually, I'd like to hear about it," he requested.

  "That's all I know. He has this 'feeling' that's guiding us," I told him.

  Quill frowned. "Not much of a story."

  My eyes flickered to him. "You're obsessed with stories. You know coming with us is foolish, right? We're fugitives."

  "Yeah, but an exclusive will get me a better pension and you guys off the hook," he pointed out.

  "So you don't believe we broke the law?" I asked him.

  He snorted. "I think you probably jaywalked, but murder? Please. I've interviewed murderers. They might not kill their victims all the same way, but there's a look in their eyes that tells you something's not quite right. You and your boyfriend there don't have that look."

  "He's not my-"

  "All right, that guy back there," he corrected himself. "Anyway, I don't think you guys did anything bad enough to warrant a warrant, and that means there's a story behind this that I want to publish. That's why I'm playing chauffeur. At least until we're all out of this mess."

  "A big 'if'. . ." I murmured.

  CHAPTER 2

  We drove until sunrise. The day star was bright, but a chill clung to the mountain air and. I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered. The air felt damp, like in my dream.

  I heard a stirring in the backseat and glanced over my shoulder. Vincent straightened and stretched his arms above his head. His fists hit the roof of the car. He winced and pulled his arms down to rub his bruised knuckles.

  He noticed me staring at him and sheepishly grinned. "Good morning," he greeted me.

  "Not very. It's frigid," I commented.

  "Like a woman I know," Quill quipped.

  I glared at him. "Watch the road."

  He grinned and jerked his head in the direction in front of us. "No need."

  I followed his gaze and glimpsed a cleared area on the left side of the road. A gas station stood near the highway, and behind that stood a large square building built of logs. A wooden porch with a tall railing surrounded the entirety of the building. The sign post over the door revealed the structure to be a sports and grocery store.

  Quill pulled up beside one of the filling stations and shut off the car. He turned in his seat and grinned at us.

  "Now don't go wandering too far, children. I'll only be gone for a minute," he teased.

  I rolled my eyes as he stepped out of the car. "Idiot. . ."

  "Where are we?" Bram's sleepy voice spoke up.

  "Over a hundred miles from Celatum," I replied.

  He frowned. "Not far enough for me."

  "Maybe we should stretch our legs. It might do us some good," Vincent suggested.

  My eyes fell on the log building. "And get some supplies. I don't think Quill was ready for this many passengers."

  "Do you have much money left?" Vincent wondered.

  "That depends on how much the kid swiped since I left all my cash in the bag," I commented.

  He stuck his tongue out at me. "I didn't swipe nothing. It's all there."

  "And I bet you counted it, so you can tell us how much we have left," I returned.

  He shrugged. "Only three hundred."

  "That's enough to get us some food for a long time," I mused. I heard the door behind me open, and Vincent stepped out. He looked to the opposite side of the road where a sign advertised a hiking trail. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out of the car. "What's wrong?"

  He pursed his lips and nodded at the trail. "We need to go there."

  My face drooped. "Off road again?"

  He nodded. "Yeah. I. . .I know that trail."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Know it? You mean it's familiar?"

  "Somehow, yes," he confirmed.

  I crossed my arms and sighed. "Great. Another off-road trip."

  "You could've told me that before I filled it up," Quill spoke up as he hung up the gas line.

  I got out and turned to look at Quill over the top of the car. "You sure you want to come with us? This isn't exactly a nature hike, and the last place we visited burned to the ground."

  "And miss the scoop of a lifetime? Hell no," he refused.

  Bram stepped out of the car and rolled his eyes at the reporter. "You're in idiot."

  Quill jerked a thumb at the boy. "Isn't there something we can do about him? Maybe leave him on a doorstep or something?"

  Bram narrowed his eyes and rolled up his sleeves. "You wanna make something of it?"

  "No, but you're going to order a knuckle sandwich if you keep this up, Pipsqueak," Quill retorted.

  "We don't have time for this," I spoke up. I grabbed our money supply, and Vincent's arm, and dragged both towards the log store. "You two stay out here and watch for anything suspicious. We'll get the supplies."

  Vincent and I walked up the stairs onto the elevated deck and through the two doors with their glass windows. The inside was a cornucopia of hunting, fishing and hiking gear. Aisle after aisle held fly bait, hunting vests, guns, and dehydrated food.

  "Good morning," greeted the elderly gentleman behind the cash registered.

  "Good morning," Vincent replied.

  I released Vincent, grabbed a basket from beside the door and stalked towards the food.

  I snatched cans of beans, corn, and other non-perishables, and tossed them into the basket. "I swear they're both just children. . ." I muttered.

  Vincent came up beside me. "Did you need some help?"

  I jerked my head towards the next aisle. "You can help by getting the owner to tell you which backpacks are his best, and cheapest. I'm not going to face starvation again for your 'feeling.'"

  He winced. "Come on, Leila, don't be like that."

  I whipped my head to him and narrowed my eyes. "Like what?" I growled.

  He held up his palms in front of him and backed away. "L-like nothing. I'll go ask him."

  He hurried away, and I proceeded to abuse the canned food until my temper was under control. I paused and listened to Vincent's conversation with the proprietor.

  "Hi. My friends and I were looking to hike that trail on the opposite side of the trail," he informed the man.

  "This late in the season?" the man wondered.

  "Yeah, I know it's a little weird, but we'd like some backpacks. Your cheapest," Vincent told him.

  "All right, but if I were you I wouldn't be all in a hurry to go up there this time of year," the man commented. His feet shuffled across the floor and the men moved their conversation to the adjoining aisle.

  "Why not?" Vincent asked him.

  "Because strange things have been seen up there. Scary things," the man explained.

  I stifled a scoff. Vincent's tone was one of amusement. "Really?"

  "Don't laugh at me, young man," the man scolded him. "I've been on this mountain for fifty years, and I've seen some strange things myself. It's the fog up there, you see. Sometimes it plays tricks on the mind, and sometimes they ain't tricks."

  "What kind of 'tricks?'" Vincent wondered.

  "Spooks and the like. Folks can't remember when or how they got started, but I remember my granddad telling me about some trouble up there a long time ago. Damned if I can remember the story, though," he commented.

  "Well, we'd still like to go up the trail. Where does it lead?" Vincent inquired.

  "To Reflection Lake."

  I started. The Dark Vincent in my dream had spoken that word.
Could it have really meant something, or was it merely a coincidence?

  "That's a nice name," Vincent complimented.

  "Right pretty, and so is the lake. The trail leads to a campsite on one side of the sandy shore. Great fishing, especially since you'll be the only ones up there, but like I said before, there's the fog to worry about," he reminded Vincent.

  "Is it dangerous?" Vincent asked him.

  "For hiking, definitely. When the bad stuff comes in you can't see nothing in front of you. Around the lake there's the old dock to worry about. It's opposite the campgrounds. The boards are all rotten. If you happen to get be on there fishing when the fog comes in, and it comes in fast, and you drop into the water there's no telling if you'd find your way back," the man explained.

  "Why couldn't you just climb back onto the dock?" Vincent wondered.

  "Because the fog's so thick you might not find the dock, and that lake's long and deep. If'n yer not a good swimmer you're liable to drown," the old man warned him.

  "We'll make sure not to go swimming," Vincent joked.

  "It's no joking matter, young man," the proprietor snapped. "There's been people killed up there, murdered by that damn fog."

  "Ooph," Vincent choked out.

  I stepped around the end of my aisle and looked down theirs. Vincent clutched onto four backpacks that were rammed into his gut. The proprietor's kindly face was distorted by anger as he glared at Vincent.

  "You'd better watch yourselves, or else," the old man warned him.

  He stalked away. I walked up to Vincent. He looked in my direction and started.

  "Jumpy?" I commented.

  "Just a-" The backpacks slipped from his hands and clattered to the floor. "Just a little," he finished.

  We both stooped and I gathered up two of the straps. "I don't know why. It's not like anything can hurt you," I pointed out.

  He winced and looked away. "Maybe. . ."

  I paused and sighed. "Don't take what that old man said too seriously. It sounded like a bunch of rumors to me."

  Vincent pursed his lips and shook his head. "I don't know. He sounded serious, and I have that bad feeling again."