Hunt the Moon

by Kari Cole

  It was so strange being around weres like this, letting them take you places, maybe even watch your back. Not that she was leaving all their protection to a werewolf. Before they left the house, she’d made sure she and Freddie were both armed—with silver ammo this time.

  An electric shiver raced over Izzy’s body, leaving goose bumps. She turned to see Luke’s truck pull into the lot.

  Freddie glowered at him when Luke joined them. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Luke ignored him and took her hand. “All right, sugar? You smell like grief.”

  Damned bloodhound. “Yeah? What’s that smell like?” she asked. “A funeral parlor? Half-dead flowers and mothballs? Teen Spirit?”

  Luke’s mouth twitched. “Grumpy, too, huh? Sounds like you need to relax. Let’s go home.”

  Super. She loved the Dodds, but how many more lies would she have to tell today?

  As if guessing her thoughts, Luke said, “Not to Rissa and Freddie’s. My home.”

  Oh, hell no. Not a good idea. She already was far too aware of this werewolf. She needed distance, not—

  Planting a crutch dangerously near Luke’s foot, Freddie said, “Remember what we talked about.”

  The scowl on Luke’s face could curdle milk, but he gave her brother a stiff nod.

  “What?” she asked.

  Neither man answered, since they were too busy trying to outdo one another in a death stare contest.

  Lena rolled her eyes. “Don’t bother, sweetie. There’s no cure for testosterone poisoning.” She flicked her son’s arm. “How’d it go at the morgue?”

  Izzy tugged her hand from his grasp. Luke sighed. “Someone took the cougar’s body and left a gallon jug of citronella oil as a souvenir.”

  Freddie swore.

  “Pretty much,” Luke said. “Also, the missing mechanic from the Spokane airport was found murdered last night. And before he and his car were dumped in a lake, someone doused the inside with citronella.”

  More swearing from Freddie.

  Izzy had barely spoken to the mechanic, but that didn’t stop the wave of anger rising in her. “Someone’s playing with you guys.”

  “I’m damn tired of the game.” After Luke scrubbed a hand through his messy hair, he asked, “Where are your parents?”

  “Are they in danger?” Izzy asked, heart in her throat and the beast inside buzzing.

  “No. I’m just being cautious.”

  “They’re fine, Iz,” Freddie said. “Mom’s with Rissa, Marianne, and Daphne. And a few of the guys are taking Dad around to see some of the sights. They’re supposed to bring him to meet me at the airfield for a tour in”—he checked his watch—“about half an hour.”

  “Okay, good,” Luke said. A maroon truck and sheriff’s department SUV pulled into the lot. He waved to the new arrivals, beckoning them over. “Mom, can you take Freddie? I—”

  Luke’s gaze shot over her shoulder, to the station door, and he stiffened. The Native American sheriff, Vaughn Ellis, stood framed in the door talking to someone in the station that Izzy couldn’t see.

  Dean, Rick, and another were walked up to their suddenly tense quartet. She wanted to get the hell out of there. Despite the winter chill, sweat dripped down her back. Her skin tightened and tingled like she’d gotten too close to a campfire. She needed to move.

  “Isabelle.” Luke’s firm tone snapped her head up. Gold pulsed around his pupils and the itchy feeling under her skin subsided. “One more minute,” he murmured to her.

  In a normal voice, he said, “Isabelle, this is Dev Crandall. He’s a helicopter pilot, too. He was the one who flew Freddie and Jenny Erlington out.” The male nodded but didn’t try to shake her hand.

  “Thank you,” she said. “The conditions were terrible.”

  Dev smiled and his graying goatee glinted in the sun. “Nah, I had the easy job. My mate, Liz, and all the on-the-ground searchers had the real work of it.”

  “You’ve already met Rick,” Luke said in a flat voice. “One of our trackers.”

  “Daphne’s mate, right?” she said, hoping he wouldn’t try to shake hands either. Her joints hurt.

  “Right,” Rick said, thankfully keeping his hands to himself. “Hope you’re feeling better. I helped search for you guys.”

  “I am. Thanks for the assist.”

  Luke’s jaw bunched as Sheriff Ellis joined them. With a quick, subtle step, Luke maneuvered Izzy between himself and Lena. Unease bubbled in her stomach and the wolf buzzed in her head.

  Lip curled like the wolf he was, Luke wrapped his arm around her side. The gesture screamed possession, like he might throw her over his shoulder, caveman-style, at any moment.

  Yeah, that wouldn’t be weird or anything. Pretty much par for the creeptastic course she couldn’t seem to get off.

  She poked Luke in the side and tried to act more confident than she was. Fake it ’til you make it seemed like a good motto right now. “Okay, buddy. Time to go.” She left the before the chest-thumping starts unsaid. They could argue about their destination in the truck.

  The sheriff’s gaze swung to her, and damn it, there went her feigned nonchalance. A cold sweat broke out over her skin every time a were paid any attention to her. It was a weakness she couldn’t allow. And one the sheriff noticed. His smoke-gray eyes made her feel like a bug under a microscope.

  “Shit,” Dean muttered, and presto, Luke was standing firmly between her and Ellis. She hadn’t even seen him move.

  Freddie touched her back, light as a feather. “Easy,” he whispered.

  There were faces in the station windows and doorway now. Like the werewolves in the parking lot, they were all frozen, their attention rapt. The air seemed to vibrate with aggression.

  “You frightened her,” Luke said, glaring at Ellis. His words were quiet, and filled with censure. But even under the weight of the Alpha’s disapproval, the sheriff didn’t look away.

  A subvocal growl from Luke scratched along her nerves, and Ellis took a slow step back. Though he gave ground, the move didn’t convey an ounce of submission. In fact, Izzy thought he was just looking for more room to maneuver.

  “That wasn’t my intent,” Ellis said. His voice sounded rougher. Were his eyes starting to glow? Her brain offered up several scenes from her nightmarish memories of glowing gold eyes and she shivered.

  “Luke,” she said, trying to speak past the lump of terror growing in her throat. “He didn’t do anything. My fault. Conditioned reaction. My fault.”

  Ellis looked at her again, his nostrils flared.

  Luke growled.

  Sometime during the confrontation, Dean had slid to a position at Luke’s left flank. A move she recognized would allow him to protect his Alpha’s weak side. She gave him an imploring look, because so far he’d seemed like a reasonable man. She remembered him trying to defuse the tension when they’d met at the airfield, too.

  His green eyes, very much like Luke’s, met her gaze. Dean shook his head once.

  “Why are you afraid?” Ellis asked again, leaning to the side to see her around the shield of Luke’s body.

  Luke obviously didn’t like that. His hands fisted and a wave of power flowed from him, sparking over her skin like static shocks. He moved to block her from Ellis’s view again. “She is not your concern.”

  Ellis shook his head. “I have three dead humans, and suits crawling all over the place. If she—”

  “Not. Your. Concern.” More menacing than a roar, Luke’s soft, quiet voice raised all the hair on Izzy’s body.

  All eyes were on them, waiting. For what, she wasn’t sure. Some sort of violence certainly. Except for Freddie, everyone was a were, and their eyes gleamed with the power of their beasts.

  Was this a dominance thing? Was Ellis challenging Luke for position?

  A chill settled o
ver her that had nothing to do with her own fear.

  Her grandmother had told her weres did this all the time and the fights were usually to the death. “Bloodthirsty animals. Every disagreement ends with claws and gore.”

  Not today. And not because she was acting like a useless coward. Izzy wasn’t some shrinking violet to cower behind the big, strong man. It was past time she started acting like it.

  She pushed against Luke’s back. “Enough,” she said.

  Luke didn’t budge.

  “Enough,” she repeated.

  Another low growl vibrated through Luke’s chest. Izzy felt it under her hand.

  “Do you really want to do this, Vaughn?” he asked. Despite the coiled promise of bloodshed in his body, his words sounded bored. Condescending, even.

  Anger flashed across the sheriff’s face. “I’m doing my job, Luke. People are dead. If she knows anything about it, I have to pursue that. The timing of Ms. Meyers’s arrival and recent events seem more than coincidental.”

  “Screw you, Vaughn,” Freddie snarled.

  “Are you implying I sabotaged my brother’s helicopter?” Izzy asked, incredulous. “The same one I was flying in?”

  Luke didn’t give Ellis a chance to answer. “If we’re discussing telling coincidences, I think your return a year and a half ago might be the more pressing one.”

  Ellis jerked like he’d been slapped. “My uncle died, too.”

  “Yeah, he did,” Luke said silkily. “And you stepped right into his job.”

  “If you really believed that, you’d never have let me stay, let alone become sheriff.”

  “Maybe I haven’t decided yet.”

  Izzy had no idea what they were talking about, but it had gone on long enough. She pinched Luke’s side and spun out from behind his back. “Luke. Stop it. I don’t know what the history is with you guys, and honestly, I don’t give a shit right now. There are three federal investigators inside that building. I really don’t want to explain whatever the hell this is to them. I think you boys need to go to your separate corners for a while.”

  Finally, Dean stepped closer to the two bristling males. “Izzy’s right. We’re letting our frayed emotions get in the way of our reason. Let’s all just—”

  “Shut up, Simmons,” Ellis said, setting off a wave of gasps.

  Dean’s green eyes sparked with gold.

  “Okay!” Izzy grabbed Luke’s arm. “That’s enough pissing on a tree for today. Let’s go. Freddie?”

  Lena and Freddie headed for her SUV. Luke snorted. To Ellis he said, “This discussion is not over.”

  “That’s the first thing you’ve said that I agree with.”

  Shaking her head, Izzy hauled Luke away from the weres. Most seemed stunned, but a few looked positively thrilled with the show.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Damn Vaughn. Hands clenched on the steering wheel, Luke took a deep breath, willing his grumbling wolf to settle down, because his agitation was only adding to Isabelle’s. Her pulse hammered against the column of her throat and the scent of her wolf filled the truck’s cab. If she shifted now without consciously initiating the change, there’d never be any trust between her and the wolf.

  Without signaling, he pulled the truck off the road.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “We need a breath of fresh air.”

  They weren’t far from his cabin or the pack house. If they walked through the dense copse of trees, they’d be able to enjoy the cold breeze rippling over the lake, carrying the scent of cedar and pine, and of snow-covered earth.

  Opening his door, he chanced a glance at Isabelle. The glare she sent his way made his wolf hunker down and cover his snout with a paw. The beast’s raised brow said, You’re on your own.

  Coward, Luke told him, earning a huff of indignation.

  He walked around the front of the truck to Isabelle’s door. She flung it open, almost catching him in the stomach, and slid out. Anger rode her sharp cheekbones in a red flush. Like her wolf had last night, she paced in a tight arc, her boots grinding against the dirt and gravel on the side of the road.

  Seconds ticked by as she prowled, her scent colored with temper and fear. Then, as if she’d closed a door on her panic—and her wolf—Isabelle straightened, in control once more. Speaking quietly, as if to herself, she said, “I have no idea how to handle you.”

  That made two of them.

  A shining black Ford Expedition hummed down the road and slowed as it neared their truck. Luke waved at Stefan and gestured for the older wolf to continue on. Stefan shrugged, then tossed off a salute.

  “This road leads to the pack house. There’s always a stream of people coming and going,” Luke said. He took her hand and pulled her toward the trees. “Come on. There’s a better place through here where we can talk without an audience.”

  Isabelle sighed. “Fine.”

  Evergreen boughs brushed their heads as he tugged her along the snow-and-pine-needle-covered path. Luke had to duck to avoid the jutting limbs of Douglas fir and western hemlock, but their dense coverage meant the snow was little more than a dusting along the trail.

  While they walked, he was as attuned to Isabelle as his own body. Every single hitch in her breath, each footfall resonated within him like the echo of his own heartbeat.

  And she was afraid.

  About thirty feet in, the thick copse gave way to a stand of spindly lodgepole pines and the meandering shore of Black Robe Lake. The overcast sky lay like a cozy gray blanket above them, turning the clear water slate-green.

  Isabelle pulled her hand from his, her eyes darting to a group of crows swooping in and out of the trees on the opposite shore. She scanned the scene Luke found so peaceful with an intensity and vigilance that raised the hair on his neck.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, sniffing for danger. His wolf’s ears pricked, listening.

  “Luke, I don’t know what the hell is going on.” She scrutinized him. “I think you’re probably a good guy.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  She ignored his comment. “So, I’m trying to use my head and not act out of fear and bigotry. I get that my upbringing was totally messed up and I have a skewed perspective on things. But every bit of logic in me says I should grab my family and run.”

  Run? The hell she would. His beast growled in agreement.

  “No one would have hurt you, Isabelle. I wouldn’t have allowed it.”

  “Right. Since I arrived, Freddie’s helicopter has been sabotaged, and at least three people have been murdered. You told me there’re others missing. You keep stepping between me and your pack and acting like I’m in danger. I’m not supposed to find that threatening? What about Hank and Abby?”

  Shit, she was right. With his own actions and reactions, he’d added to her trauma.

  She stopped in front of him, her boots nearly touching his. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know.” Admitting that cut as deep as claws. But she misunderstood.

  “Come on. You’re going to have to cut me some slack and ignore it when I get freaked. I can’t help my physiological responses. But just because I’m afraid doesn’t mean I’m some useless coward.”

  Of all the things he’d expected her to say, that wasn’t one of them. “Isabelle, it’s my job to protect you.”

  “Why? Because you’re the Alpha?”

  Because you’re mine, he almost blurted. “It’s not that simple.”

  “Well, simplify it for me. Is it because I’m a woman?”

  A bark of laughter escaped him. “Have you met Rissa? Or her mother? Or my mother, for that matter? Any one of them, and a dozen more females in the pack, would rip my balls off and serve them up as Rocky Mountain oysters if I ever suggested they needed special protection because of their gender. Sugar, I may
be dumb, but even I am not that brand of stupid.”

  “Oysters? What—ew. Is that really a thing? No. No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.” A shudder sent her ponytail bouncing. “All right. Then what’s with the caveman act?”

  He scrubbed a hand over his aching head. Isabelle wasn’t ready to hear about being his mate yet, but she still deserved the truth. At least as much as he could give her. “I’m a dominant lycanthrope. Part of it is it’s simply my nature to be protective. You must understand that. You’re the same way. From the moment you got here, you’ve been guarding someone: Freddie, your passengers, Rissa. Some people—human or shifter—just need to take care of others. Like Abby and Hank.”

  Her eyes went wide again at that, and an almost-smile brightened her face.

  “I’m afraid you bring out the Cro-Magnon in me, sugar. It’s not because I think you’re weak. Hell, you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. But, well...you just inspire the instinct. Can’t it be as simple as that? I want to take care of you.”

  “I don’t really let people do that.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  She gave him a dry look. “What’s your problem with the sheriff?” she asked, throwing another curveball at him.

  Luke sighed. “Vaughn is...” Different. Secretive. Maybe a bad guy. “Complicated,” he said, finally. “His mother is an eagle shifter.”

  “Huh? I thought he was a werewolf.”

  “He is,” he said. “It’s not uncommon for lycanthropes to have human mates. But it’s rare for shifters from different animal breeds to get together.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “A lot of people believe the child of two different shifters will turn out...wrong. Evil, maybe. It’s superstitious bullshit, but it leaves a mark, you know? Vaughn’s always been a bit of an outsider because of it.”

  “Sounds like I’m not the only bigot around here.”

  Luke winced. “It doesn’t help that Vaughn hasn’t always lived here with the pack. When his dad died, his mother, Rose, took him back to her own people in Arizona. He spent his summers here, but he didn’t make a lot of friends. Honestly...he just rubs my fur the wrong way.”