Christmas Moon

by Sadie Hart

***

  He smelled the rogue just as he left the forest and loped up toward the pack house. Then he smelled the blood. Shit. He glanced at the drive. A black STE vehicle was parked in front of the house. Shifting, he tucked the wolf back inside, and strode toward the backyard and the sound of voices. The frigid December wind left him once again thankful that the magic that allowed him to shift from man to wolf, also let him keep his clothes.

  He stuffed his hands in his jean pockets to keep his fingers from freezing. Blood smeared the snow, from his blow-up Frosty the Snowman to the eight light-up reindeer, it covered his side yard. His stomach twisted just as Trent Monroe, his pack second, turned and saw him. “Deer,” he called out, before the raw rage twisting in Hunter’s gut could continue to grow.

  “A dead deer isn’t cause for Hounds.” His gaze cut to the tall woman standing in the snow beside Trent. Her long silvery blond hair was wrapped in a bun behind her head. Her eyes were a piercing green and they struck out at him, hard and assessing.

  “No. But a missing woman is.”

  Hunter glanced at Trent. “Rylie,” his second said, voice soft.

  Rylie Kelsen. She’d been supposed to show up for dinner last night but hadn’t. Not completely abnormal for the pack. Dinners at his house weren’t mandatory.

  “Lucy went by her house last night. She said Ry had a bad break-up and she just wanted to go check on her. She wasn’t there.”

  “And you didn’t call me?”

  His second gave him a hard look, no doubt scenting Bree on his skin. “Lucy figured she’d just gone out. She called this morning, still no answer, went by her place again and smelled a wolf she didn’t recognize.”

  A growl snaked out of him. “Rogue.”

  “Would be my guess, considering we had one leave us that nice gift,” he gestured toward the bloody field and the lifeless body Hunter could now make out as a deer.

  “Most likely the same one harassing Bree.” And if the wolf was making this many rounds, it wasn’t too far of a stretch to believe he’d gone after Rylie as well.

  The Hound folded her arms across her chest, drawing their attention. “Breanne Torres?”

  Hunter nodded. “Yes. She owns the house next door. Caught a wolf’s scent when I went out for a run yesterday, tracked it back to her place.”

  The woman’s lips pursed but she only nodded. “I’ll need you to see if you recognize the wolf’s scent. Then I’m going to check out Ms. Kelsen’s apartment.”

  Oh, he’d be going with her, but he was saving that argument until the time came. Hunter jerked his head in a nod and strode across the yard. Blood splattered the snow, but worse than that, the poor animal was strung across the yard. The doe had been torn apart. Mauled. “No one heard a thing?”

  “Happened after everyone left. I was the last out and I didn’t get back ‘til this morning.” Hunter nodded. He’d left Trent in charge when he’d gone on his hunt last night. “First thing I smelled when I got here. Then Lucy called.”

  “It’s fine,” Hunter said and turned his attention to the bloody massacre in front of him. He crouched, leaning forward to get a good whiff as the wind tossed back and forth in the cool morning. The tangy scent of blood, the musk of deer, the people around him—those were the scents that struck him first, but under it all Hunter could trace the scent of wolf. Male.

  The same bastard he’d run across last night haunting around Bree’s place.

  “Same one.”

  “Good to know. I’ve already cataloged the scent. I’ll head over to—”

  “And I’ll be coming along.” The tone he used dared her to argue.

  One look at him and she nodded. “Very well.”

  With a wave of her hand, she led Hunter toward her car.

  Chapter Six

  Bree flipped through the channels mindlessly. The damn phone hadn’t rung all morning and the silence was beginning to get to her. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the couch, trying to force herself to relax. The restless itch building inside her only intensified with the quiet.

  Hunter Reed had been in her life for one day and already she resented the solitude. Weird, how comfortable he made her feel, how at home he made the place feel. Crazy too, because this was her house but she hadn’t realized until he’d walked out that door this morning that it had never become a home.

  No. If she were honest with herself, her home had died with Arianna. Died with the distance their daughter’s death had driven between her and Caesar. She opened her eyes and looked around the room. It was beautifully furnished, but empty.

  She hadn’t let a single bit of life enter this place.

  No pictures, no heirlooms, nothing really personal. The walls were bare and the colors and furniture were all neutrally chosen. Nothing here really said Bree. She flicked off the television and shoved off from the couch. This had to change. When a perfect stranger could walk into her life and make her see just how badly she was missing out on life, on everything, something had to change.

  Nerves twisted her stomach, but she refused to back down as she headed for her bedroom closet and the collection of boxes stashed at the back of it. Hidden behind clothes and shoes were the memories she’d locked away. Sinking to the plush carpet, Bree ran her fingers over the first tub. She remembered the day she’d packed it all away, tears streaming down her face.

  She’d needed time then. To grieve, to heal, to just get space.

  Now, however, it was time to start putting back together the pieces of her life. Time to start moving forward.

  She dragged the large plastic container towards her and popped off the lid. Right on top sat a framed 8 x 10 of Ari, grinning up at the camera, sunlight streaming through her red hair. Bree felt her heart catch and she reached for the wooden frame. Her hand shook.

  God, how she’d missed seeing her little girl’s face.

  Hearing her laugh.

  Holding her.

  She picked up the picture and looked into those almond brown eyes. They’d always been so warm with happiness. Arianna had been a being of joy. She ran her fingers over the image and wished like hell she could touch her daughter just one more time.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she whispered to the photo. Part of her was still sorry she hadn’t been able to save her daughter, and that same part of her always would be.

  But right now, the larger part of her regretted keeping the memories of Arianna locked away in a box. Caesar—for all the horrible things that he had done—at least he hadn’t tried to push the memory of their daughter away. At least he hadn’t folded her up into a plastic box and shoved her at the back of a closet.

  He’d sought to avenge her death in his own twisted way.

  Staring at the portrait now, Bree knew there was no way she was shoving this all back into her closet. It was time to move forward and it was also time to bring the memory of her daughter fully into this house. It was time to make this place a home.

  She set the picture up next to her and continued through the box. She found her old Shifter Town Enforcement award for ten years served on duty. Arianna’s favorite doll, a stuffed lion with a frizzy mane. Her heart clenched but she kept digging.

  There were so many pictures.

  Ones of the three of them—Caesar, Ari, and her—all grinning up at the camera. Bree remembered that day. It had been a cool, crisp autumn day and they’d taken one of Caesar’s old college buddies to the park to get some family pictures. The one with Ari rolling around in a pile of leaves she pulled out and set aside, along with one of the three of them, wrapped in each other’s arms.

  There were pictures of the Enforcement pack she and Caesar had led. She recognized so many faces, faces that had tried to back her after Caesar’s death. But just like her they hadn’t understood the shift in their alpha, didn’t understand how they hadn’t seen it coming. She swallowed. Then they’d pulled away. Or had it been her first? God, she didn’t even know anymore.

  It had been a time o
f so much pain, all she’d wanted to do was leave. Run. As far away as she possibly could.

  She pulled out another box of pictures and kept going. There were so many memories. She hadn’t forgotten them, but at the same time, she hadn’t let herself remember them either. Picture after picture went by.

  But it was the Christmas ones that brought the tears pouring out.

  Arianna in her pajamas surrounded by wrapping paper hugging a large stuffed white unicorn. Arianna grinning in front of the Christmas tree, her little fuzzy lion in one hand. Caesar and her decorating the tree.

  Bree let the pictures fall to the ground and buried her face in her hand and cried. Christmas had always been their favorite time of year. From making snow angels in the sand to picking out and decorating a Christmas tree. Lighting up the house with decorations and laughter. Baking cookies for Santa.

  “Oh Ari.” She touched a picture of her daughter sprawled out in the snow, her pink snow suit on. “I miss you, sweetie.”

  She lost track of how long she sat there, but the light faded leaving the room dark as the sun set outside. Bree didn’t get up to turn on the light. She sat there in the quiet, wrapped in the darkness, and let the memories sift through her. With every smile, every laugh in her head, the memories finally started to heal the wounds ripped open by Arianna’s passing.

  When it finally became too dark to see, Bree grabbed the picture frame and dragged herself to bed, the image of her daughter wrapped in her arms.

  ***

  Hunter paced the small quarters of the Enforcement office. Tension knotted his shoulders and his head ached from the constant grind of his teeth. Rylie’s place had been empty, her phone was off so no one could trace it, and her whole damn place had stunk of the rogue. And now, Hunter was at the local Shifter Town Enforcement headquarters and told to wait.

  Wait his ass.

  He’d been up the entire night calling her phone, her friends, the pack. Anyone and everyone he could think of. Nothing.

  Exhaustion tugged at him, an ever persistent weigh that settled along his shoulders and threatened to break him, but Hunter refused to sit down. The moment his butt hit that chair he knew he’d be out.

  The Hound poked her head out of her office and waved for him. Thank God. He couldn’t wait much longer. They needed to do something and standing around here wasn’t it.

  “I’ve contacted her family, no one’s heard from her.”

  “I know. I called them last night.” The growl edged in his words reminded her that he’d told her, she just hadn’t believed him. Typical Hound. The thought crossed his mind before he even realized it, the prejudice automatic.

  It was so rare to find a Hound actually on the side of the shifters they were supposed to protect. The dog-shifters were more inclined to protect their own and the average human than they were shifters.

  And yet, something about Breanne Torres drew him to her.

  This one made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He didn’t trust her. Didn’t think she really gave a damn about a missing wolf. She rattled on about what Shifter Town Enforcement was doing to find his wolf, but it all seemed to involve her sitting behind a computer screen. No one was actually out there looking.

  Hunter’s jaw tightened.

  “What we need from you, Mr. Reed is to go home. Wait by the phone. See if you get a call.”

  Bullshit. But he jerked his head in a sharp nod. Oh, he’d go home all right. He’d get the pack together and they’d start looking for their wolf.

  “We’ll keep you updated if we have any leads.”

  He doubted they would. Hunter turned and strode for the door, his whole body shaking. Exhaustion and anger warred inside him as he dragged himself into his truck. Unless the rogue became a problem for the average human, he doubted STE would really bother to get their hands dirty.

  And yet, as his truck barreled up the road toward his house, he found his foot on the break as he neared Bree’s. It was barely eight in the morning but the lights in her house were on... He thought of the woman who hadn’t called STE despite the vandalism and calls simply because she hadn’t wanted to get a kid in trouble.

  Maybe she’d be willing to help.

  He angled the truck up the drive. It had to be worth a shot. And the woman he remembered from yesterday and the night before, the one who’d stood outside with a gun in hand was still a Hound. But unlike the ones back at the local STE, he didn’t see Bree curling her lip at the idea of finding a missing wolf.

  Hell. He hoped not at least.

  Because he wanted more of her. More time, more kisses, everything.

  Hunter left the car running as he strode up the drive. His fist fell heavy on the door as he knocked. Nothing. He pressed the doorbell and heard it chime inside. Still quiet. His stomach twisted. He pressed the bell again and finally he heard someone moving in the background.

  “Just a second,” Bree called out.

  He could hear her pad across the house. The locks flipped and then she jerked open the door. Her ruby-spun hair was still ruffled from sleep, her eyes looked puffy and tired, and if he didn’t know any better they looked like she’d been crying.

  “Hunter?”

  “You okay?”

  She scrubbed a hand over her face. “Yeah. Unpacking.” He wasn’t quite sure what that meant but she shook her head, obviously brushing it aside. Her eyes narrowed. “You look like hell.”

  A laugh startled out of him. He felt like hell. “One of my pack is missing. The rogue, his scent was all over her place. All around my house.”

  She glanced at the still running truck in her drive way, then back to him. “The phone call yesterday morning, I heard something about Hounds...?”

  “The local STE is involved but frankly, I don’t think they give a shit. I was hoping—” The words died in his throat as he looked at her. She barely knew him, and he knew why she’d left being a Hound. Knew what her husband had done and no doubt it had reflected badly on her.

  And here he was standing on her door about to ask her for help. Was that even fair?

  “Give me a second to get dressed.” Hunter stared at her, but she was already walking away from the door, leaving it open for him to follow. “Help yourself to the coffee maker. It’ll only take me a minute. How long she’s been missing?”

  “Bree, you don’t have to help.” He followed her to the bedroom. She neatly stepped around a large tote and started flipping through the clothes on the rack. Hunter glanced down and saw a picture of her and a man with a little girl swinging from their arms as they walked. Autumn leaves littered the ground around them. They looked happy.

  “Yeah I do.” She turned back to face him.

  He opened his mouth to say something, but damn. This was why he’d come. He wanted her help. Hell, he probably needed it.

  “Okay,” he whispered and turned away, leaving her to change in private.

  She met him in the living room a moment later. Fresh jeans and a dark blue long-sleeved shirt. She’d brushed her hair back behind her head, but it was the look in her eye that stopped him. Fiery and intense. Something burned in her gaze. Anticipation, maybe?

  “Let’s go. And you can fill me on the way to her place. I want to know everything you’ve already done.”

  “Actually,” he said and met her gaze, relief wrapping itself around him. “Let’s start at my place. He visited there too. Maybe, I don’t know, you can find something we missed.”

  She jerked her head in a nod. “You never know.”

  And with Bree at his back, they headed out the door and for the first time since he’d heard Rylie had gone missing, Hunter felt hopeful.

  He’d get his wolf back.

  Together they’d make sure of it.

  Chapter Seven

  Bree paused at the edge of Hunter’s yard, taking in the scene before her. The blood from yesterday had left the snow tinted pink, and she could smell the musk of deer on the wind, but the body was gone. Standing there however, i
t wasn’t the gruesome trail of blood that caught her attention. Maybe she’d just spent too long as a Hound before she left to let stuff like that get to her.

  No, it was the pack’s yard.

  Christmas lights hung from the house, the pine trees, and the fence line. Blow up characters from various Christmas movies were scattered across the yard, along with an assortment of lighted reindeer, and huge red sled. The kind she could have seen being dragged behind a pair of white horses in a white wonderland. Her breath caught as she stared at the sled, remembering her last Christmas with Arianna.

  They’d taken a sleigh ride through the park, just the two of them.

  Ari would have loved this yard.

  She glanced at the man beside her. Did he do it for the pack, or did he do because he loved the season as much as she had once?

  Hunter turned, “You getting something?”

  The case. Bree gave a small wince. “You’ll have to decorate my house when we’re done,” she said softly, teasing, but she turned her attention back to the yard and this time she focused.

  Bree strode forward across the snow and roused her inner-Ridgeback until the dog was just under her skin, waiting to be let loose. She could feel the animal quivering inside her, desperate for that chance at freedom once more. Bree tilted her face into the wind and breathed in the scents swirling on the crisp breeze.

  Wolf, forest, old blood, it all filtered past her nose. But the wind would only tell her what was recent, what it touched as it passed. Scent traveled in odd ways and sometimes the best way to track an older trail was to simple put her nose to the ground. Looking over her shoulder, she caught Hunter’s eye. “I’ll need your help on this. I don’t know Ms. Kelsen’s scent.”

  “Rylie,” he said.

  “Rylie’s scent, then. You’ll need to shift too.” Then she turned away and let the dog pour out of her. In B-rated movies and horror books the shift from man to beast hurt, it broke bones and was a curse. In reality, it was simple magick. The kind buried inside her veins, a part of every fiber of her being, and it wrapped around her and she simply wasn’t a woman anymore, but a large rust-red dog standing in the snow.