Hunt the Moon

by Kari Cole

  “What the hell?” Isabelle’s shout broke him out of his self-recriminations. A dark blue Ford Explorer and a white Toyota pickup were speeding down the road ahead of them. Far too fast for the winding, snow-spotted road.

  “That’s Freddie’s SUV,” Dev said.

  They gasped as the Toyota rammed into the back of Freddie’s Explorer, causing it to fishtail. The Toyota sped up and crashed into the back of Freddie’s truck again. There was a flash, and the Explorer’s rear window glass shattered.

  Isabelle swore violently and the helicopter dropped down fifty feet. “Buckle up,” she ordered.

  “What the hell was that?” Davy asked, his voice tight with fear.

  “Gunfire,” Isabelle said. “I’m going to get ahead of the vehicles. Dev and Luke, see who’s in them. I don’t want to hit the wrong target.”

  Hit? What the hell was she talking about?

  “Izzy, this isn’t a Black Hawk. We don’t have any weapons,” Dev said.

  “Don’t I know it,” she muttered. Loudly, she said, “Get in those seats and buckle up.”

  Luke and Davy looked at each other and dove for their seats, just as the Huey shot forward. Luke grabbed onto the safety harness to keep from being thrown to the floor, as the helicopter lurched to the side.

  They overtook the trucks in seconds, and Isabelle brought the helicopter down alongside them. Jesus, they were only about twenty feet in the air, squeezed between the speeding trucks and the trees lining the side of the road. He hoped no one came down the opposite lane.

  “Hang on!” Isabelle shouted.

  The chopper tipped to the right, and he flung out a hand to brace himself. The crazy angle gave him and Dev a better view, though, and they took advantage of his mate’s fancy flying.

  The Toyota had three people in it. The windows were all open. Three shocked faces looked at them, and the truck swerved, nearly running off the road.

  Luke didn’t recognize the guy in the back or the front passenger seat. But the driver...

  “That’s Joe Crawley behind the wheel,” Dev said.

  Davy moaned.

  “And?” Isabelle snapped.

  Luke tried not to growl at his mate. She wasn’t the traitor. “And he’s pack. One of Rick’s closest friends.”

  “I think Freddie and Rissa are in the Explorer,” Dev said.

  “They are,” Isabelle replied, her voice grim. “If you guys aren’t strapped in yet, you better. This is gonna get bumpy.”

  With that dire warning ringing in their ears, they did, and fast. The chopper lurched upward and swung to the right. They rose again and dropped in a move Luke could only describe as a hop. At the end, a bone-jarring shudder ran through the helicopter.

  “Holy shit,” Dev said.

  “What the hell?” Luke shouted. “Isabelle, are you hitting them?”

  “Damn straight.”

  A muffled pop sounded over the roar of the engines.

  “They’re shooting at us,” Dev said, his voice an octave higher than normal.

  Luke swore his mate snorted. “With a handgun,” she said, her voice utterly unconcerned.

  “We’re not armored like a military bird,” Dev reminded her.

  “Pfft.”

  “The bullets can penetrate our fuselage.”

  “Pfft,” she repeated. “You see them stick a .50 cal or RPG launcher out the window, you let me know.”

  Holy crap, his mate was nuts.

  Boom! They smacked the top of the truck with the chopper’s landing skids again. Several more muffled pops sounded, and a crack appeared in the glass of Luke’s door. Before he could shout a warning, they shot up dozens of feet, then just as suddenly dropped.

  “Hang on!” Isabelle called again.

  Joe’s truck filled Luke’s vision on the right, the rogue’s scared and angry face only a few feet away. Then they rose five or six feet, and bang! They hit the side of the truck with the skids.

  And again.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Davy screamed.

  They rose, slowing down.

  “Knocking the bastards off the road,” Isabelle said. “Look.”

  They did, as she hovered over the flipped Toyota. Rissa had stopped the Explorer several feet up the road, and was leaping for one of the rogues as he ran for the woods. She landed on the male’s back and slammed his head into the ground three times. Luke’s wolf howled with pride.

  “Let me out,” Davy said, his eyes gold. “Alpha? I’ll help here.”

  “Agreed.”

  Isabelle didn’t have to be told to take them down onto the thankfully empty road. Davy jumped out as soon as the landing gear touched down.

  Freddie got out of the truck, shouting and pointing down the road. His eyes were huge and scared. Luke read his lips. Go. Mom and Dad. Go.

  Isabelle pointed to the Toyota where the other rogue and Joe Crawley were crawling out of the ruined truck.

  Davy shifted on the run, shredding his clothes to ribbons. He went after the rogue, tackling him from the side. Blood flew into the air.

  On his crutches, Freddie hobbled toward Joe.

  “Fred, no,” Isabelle moaned, pulling off her safety harness.

  Luke jumped out the open door and was running for the truck when Joe stood, blood running down his snarling face. The traitor lunged for Freddie, and Luke’s heart stopped in his chest. Rissa shouted and Isabelle screamed. But like Babe Ruth winding up for a homer, Freddie cocked his crutch and swung it right into Joe’s face.

  The male went down like a ton of bricks.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  “Go!” Freddie shouted at Izzy again. But she remained frozen, half in, half out of the helicopter, the rotors slowly spinning above her head. She stared at him, stupefied. He’d just walked up to an enraged werewolf on the verge of a shift and clobbered him. With his freaking crutch.

  “You have a broken leg, you idiot!”

  He rolled his eyes at her. “Mom and Dad” was all he said, blasting her into motion.

  She buckled back into her seat and was about to spool up the engines when she realized that Dev was no longer in the pilot’s chair. “Wha—”

  Luke jumped into the seat instead. “Let’s go. They’ll be right behind us.”

  She took one more look at her brother. He had a shotgun resting against his shoulder. Despite the cast on his leg and a crutch under one arm, he looked strong and capable. Probably because he was.

  “All right. Strap in,” she told Luke.

  “Yes, ma’am.” She shot him a dirty look and he held up his hands. “Not joking. That was amazing, sugar. I wish I could’ve seen it from up here. If I hadn’t been so busy hanging on, I would have been humming Wagner’s ‘Ride of the Valkyries.’”

  Heat rose in her cheeks. Her body had a dumbass sense of timing. “Just doing what needed to be done.” She pulled up on the collective and swung them around. “Pack house?”

  “Yes,” Luke said. “We don’t know what we’re going to find. I’d prefer to not have you anywhere near this shit. Any chance you’d hunker down somewhere safe? I’ll beg.”

  She slid her eyes to him. That question didn’t even warrant a response.

  “Right. Didn’t think so.” He scrubbed his face. “What are you doing, Isabelle?”

  Duh. Hello. Flying. Trying to take care of the only family she knew.

  Obviously reading her expression, he said, “I mean, what are you doing to the mate bond? It’s like you threw up a wall or something.” He rubbed his fingers over his heart. “I can barely feel you.”

  Izzy touched her own chest. Now that she thought about it, her wolf had been pretty quiet. Was that why it hurt? When they’d found the bodies, she’d wanted to stamp out anything to do with lycanthropes. Everything bad in her life stemmed from being one,
from being around them.

  She didn’t know what to say. Hell, she didn’t even know what she wanted from him. She went with the simple truth. “It wasn’t intentional. But...”

  “But you’re not unhappy about the situation.” He sighed. “I love you. Don’t shut me out.”

  Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them away. Hank and Abby needed her. She couldn’t afford any distractions. No matter how much she ached to take the pain from his voice. “Luke, please. I can’t do this right now.”

  He was silent for several seconds, then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, leaving goose bumps in his wake. “All right, sugar. Later.”

  Looking at him would have been an enormous mistake, so she kept her eyes firmly on her flight path. The pack house was visible in the distance, and she descended to skim the top of the trees, increasing their speed. “Eyes sharp, coming in hot.”

  “Huh?”

  There was no time to answer as she buzzed over the top of the huge log-and-stone house. Luke swore as she banked sharply and brought the helicopter around to the front.

  In the wide, circular driveway, a sheriff’s department SUV that looked like a contestant in the demolition derby lay cockeyed on two flat tires. Beside it, Dean fought with a man swinging a crowbar, and a large gray wolf.

  Two more snarling wolves came out of the trees and stalked toward the fighters.

  “Are those—”

  “Get me down there,” Luke said. “Now!”

  Not pack. Got it. “Are you armed?”

  Furious gold eyes and lengthening fangs answered her.

  “Right,” she said, under her breath. Like he needed any more weapons.

  The dense tree line on one side of the yard and the house on the other made maneuvering tricky, but that’s what Uncle Sam had trained her for. Izzy came in fast, dropping down to hover right over the combatants. That caught their attention.

  The rotor wash wasn’t strong enough to topple a guy Dean’s size, but the wolves had a little more trouble keeping their feet. The downburst forced them to crouch and it rocked the crowbar wielder back on his heels. Dean took advantage and kicked the guy into his truck. Literally. He knocked the guy through the windshield, into the SUV. Hoo-ah!

  Luke whooped, then stroked his knuckles down her cheek. “Get your parents, sugar. Then get to safety.” He flung open the door, wind whipping his wavy hair everywhere. “I love you.”

  Then he leapt from the helicopter.

  * * *

  Luke landed in a crouch, claws and fangs at the ready. A brown-and-gray wolf he didn’t know immediately leapt for him. Luke spun and kicked the sonofabitch in the head, sending him sailing across the yard to slide into the underbrush at the edge of the forest.

  The racket and wind from the helicopter faded, and Luke turned to square off with the other unfamiliar wolf. Snarling and the sounds of fists hitting a solid body carried in the sudden quiet, but he didn’t take his eyes off the rogue. Dean could handle himself.

  The wolf stalked nearer. More cautious than his partner, he watched Luke’s every move. He was a big beast, tall and solid. Twice the size of any natural timber wolf. His brindled gray fur bristled, and he wrinkled his snout at Luke, baring sharp, yellow fangs.

  Luke’s wolf snarled in his head, wanting out to fight. Not yet, Luke told him. To the rogue, he said, “What? Never hear of a toothbrush?”

  The timber wolf darted left, feinting a swipe at his calf. As Luke pivoted to counter the attack, the rogue twisted and sprang at him.

  Luke’s head smacked the ground, but he rolled backward, using the rogue’s momentum to carry them over. Luke tossed the bastard off and popped to his feet, pouncing onto the wolf’s back before the beast had a chance to regain his footing. With a wrenching twist, Luke broke the male’s neck.

  Snow fountained up next to Luke’s knee, and he rolled to the side, even before he registered the sound of gunfire. A stranger, sporting a beard and camo pants, lunged out of the woods pointing a pistol at him. Luke was already diving for the cover of Dean’s demolished truck when he heard his mate.

  “No!” she screamed, drawing the guy’s attention and aim. And then, damn it to hell, she walked toward him, firing a gun as she went. Her hands were steady and her face grim as she put one bullet after another into the bastard’s torso. Two, three, four shots. The male fell and didn’t get up.

  Luke collapsed to his knees. The wall of ice she’d built around their bond throbbed in his heart. Goddess, she could have been killed without them ever having a real relationship. He wanted to shake her.

  “Luke! They’ve got Nate!” Dean shouted, his voice filled with agony. “They’ve got my boy!” Without waiting for a response, he jumped over the body of the wolf he’d been fighting and took off running toward the lake.

  Oh God. Luke choked back a roar of fear. He looked at his mate, who had horror written large on her face. Indecision turned his limbs to lead. He couldn’t leave her alone.

  “Go! Find him,” Isabelle told him, holding up her gun as if offering evidence of her ability to take care of herself. Then she proved it again, by spinning on her heel and taking aim at an approaching SUV.

  She dropped her stance just as quickly, and Luke realized the same thing she must have: Rissa was behind the wheel.

  Looking over her shoulder at him, she said, “Go. We’ve got the house.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Izzy ground her teeth against the urge to go to Luke and hug him or something equally sappy. The problem was the look on his face: the indecision, worry, fear, and love all rolled into one. She wanted to make him feel better, tell him it was all going to be fine.

  But they didn’t have time for that crap.

  And everything was definitely not fine.

  Finally, he raised his hand, as if it weighed a hundred pounds, and said, “Stay safe.” Then he ran after Dean.

  “Stay safe,” she muttered as she stomped across the yard. “In this fucking town?”

  Nearby, Rissa and Davy checked out the rogues’ bodies. One wasn’t quite dead, and it lunged at Davy, who was still in wolf form. Before Izzy could even raise her gun, Davy savaged the other wolf’s throat. Blood arced over the shrubs and snow.

  As if it had been lying in wait, the memory of the night her parents were murdered crashed into her. The pinch of the seat belt cutting off her breath. Bess’s screams ringing in her ears. Her mother’s blood, glistening like ink in the moonlight, and the copper scent of it filling her nose.

  Gagging, Izzy swayed and almost fell on top of the man she’d shot. He lay dead at her feet, blood soaking his plaid shirt and pooling in the trampled snow. The sight snapped her back to the present. Had this bastard been in the house with Hank and Abby?

  Izzy poked the rogue in the ribs with the toe of her boot. “Is that it? Did you hurt Hank and Abby?” She kicked him, rocking his body. “Did you? Is that why they aren’t answering their phones? You filthy.” Kick. “Fucking.” Another. Harder this time. Bone cracked. “Were!”

  “Izzy!”

  Teeth bared, the wolf buzzing in her head, she whirled around with a snarl...on Freddie.

  Horrified, she stumbled, her legs reduced to jelly. “Oh, oh...no.” She could have hurt him. Even now, her hands were clenched into fists and the wolf—

  Shut the hell up, she told the beast, slamming a steel door closed on it again. You don’t get to come out to play. She was not going to be like her sister.

  Finally, the only sound in her head was her pounding pulse.

  “Freddie, I’m so—”

  “Come on, Iz. We gotta find Mom and Dad. Plus...” He looked at the rogue. “I think you killed the bastard already.”

  She blinked at him. “What?”

  With a huff, he grabbed her by the arm and shoved her toward the house. “Mom and Dad,” he said, enunc
iating each word. “Move it.”

  Shame welled within her. For God’s sake, what was wrong with her? More to the point, what was wrong with him? Hadn’t he seen her going psycho? He jerked his head toward the pack house and hurried her along.

  Together, they made their way around Dean’s smashed-up SUV and onto the wraparound porch, where Rissa waited for them with Dev. Pale and sweaty, he looked like he might fall over any second.

  “It’s the silver,” he whispered as if he could hear Izzy’s thoughts. “Burns like a sonofabitch. I can handle it.”

  Whatever. What was she going to do? Demand he wait outside where anyone could come up on him?

  “Where’s Davy?” Freddie asked.

  Grim-faced and blood-streaked, Rissa said, “I sent him to help Luke.” She nodded at the sturdy front door. “Ready?”

  Body hidden behind the wall, Izzy peered through the windows to the left of the door. She saw nothing but furniture and a dark room.

  On the other side, Freddie did the same thing. “Nada.”

  He waggled the shotgun and glanced down at Izzy’s Berretta. “Trade me.”

  She did and he laid one of his crutches against the porch railing. Jesus, she wanted to whisk him away from here. Away from all the blood and violence that followed weres.

  Away from her.

  But they had no choice now.

  “Ready,” Freddie said to his mate.

  Rissa twisted the knob and threw it open. The heavy door banged against the inner wall.

  Several seconds passed.

  No one shot at them. Nothing jumped out or growled.

  Before Izzy could object, Rissa slipped inside. Stupid, stupid. Werewolf or not, Rissa wasn’t bulletproof and she wasn’t armed.

  Izzy followed her, then Dev. Freddie brought up the rear.

  They passed the small sitting room Izzy had looked into from the outside. Everything seemed fine. There was no broken glass or furniture. No muddy, or bloody, footprints mucking up the floor. All the pictures hung neat and square on the walls.

  Yet the hair on her neck was standing straight up.