A stab of guilt struck him as he drove up the long driveway. He shouldn’t think things like that. It wasn’t her fault. But he couldn’t deny that it was true. She did get in the way. If it hadn’t been for her…
If it hadn’t been for her, we never would’ve been hunted. She is the real reason Simon came after us. He was searching for a full-blood mate, someone to breed with and begin a race spawned from his blood only. It was a sick thought and angered Jason to think on it.
Now was not the time to be thinking on it. He pulled the car out of the drive and onto the highway. The lights of town seemed far away.
He couldn’t talk to Rose any more. She only would make him feel guilty and horrible if he did. He knew what he was doing. He was protecting them by stopping the threat before it reached them. If it wasn’t for what he was doing, the hunters would’ve probably already picked them off.
And if he found Simon while doing it, he wouldn’t complain.
It isn’t just about Simon, he thought heatedly. It’s about preservation, keeping our kind alive.
“Oh, who am I kidding?” He answered aloud. It was about Simon and it always had been. It angered him to know Rose had been right when she said that. Well, she didn’t have to know how he felt.
It was Simon that drove him to do this. It was Simon he hoped to find. It was only a matter of time until a hunter slipped up and said his name, or Jason stumbled upon him. Then he would make him pay for all the pain he had brought on everyone, not just for himself.
He would tear out his throat for harming his mate and again for leaving him for dead. Though he cared only a little about Davis, he would injure Simon for him too, for all the sick games he played. And he would rip out his guts for Aurora and Rebel, two werewolves who lost their parents too soon because of Simon’s obsessions.
And Jason knew he would enjoy each and every injury he gave him. There would be nothing left of Simon once he was through. The very thought of his revenge made his mouth water. The wolf within him could already taste the salty blood. It would be sweet, justified. He would very much enjoy it.
Jason shook the wolf away and focused on the road again. His destination was the PRDI’s main safe house, Glen’s haven and his research headquarters. It was where he went when he needed to think things out or find something elusive.
It was a long drive, several hours. He remembered the night he and Rose fled in fear, shortly after the hunters began their quest. The road had seemed longer then, never-ending. If he continued at his breakneck speed, however, he would get there as soon as the sun rose over the hills.
Rose would be fine on her own. She could take care of herself. She had proved that on more than one occasion. She would know where to reach him if anything came up. Glen kept her number on speed dial, but Jason knew he wouldn’t call her. He didn’t need the distraction.
He drove on for a while longer, immersed in his thoughts and the silence of the dark morning. When that became unbearable, he cranked the stereo and listened to screaming rock music that penetrated him from all sides.
He would get there soon enough. Just a few more hours, a few more miles, and he would be able to talk with Glen. For the first time in a long while, a grin spread over his face. He was very much looking forward to that.
* * *
Five in the morning is much too soon to start the day, Glen Cole thought to himself as he stared out the window of the kitchen. He was the only one awake, but in a few hours the Institute would be crawling with people. Five a.m. was the perfect time for him to concentrate on his thoughts, get things in order, but not the perfect time for someone who was awake half the night.
He yawned as he poured his first cup of coffee. Today was going to be a long one. Rose wanted him to come to their cabin, a trip that would take up most of the day and he hadn’t set aside assignments for who would take over in his brief absence. He scowled slightly. Being head of the PRDI was tougher than he had anticipated, but now the Institute was in the right hands. He could make it a better place.
His mind had not fully awakened yet and he sat at the table with his coffee until he felt the grogginess of sleep begin to lift. The birds had already begun their chirping. He listened to their morning songs while he sipped the hot, strong coffee. The smell of it woke him and he inhaled the scent, sighing deeply.
“It does smell good.” A voice from behind startled him. Davis stood in the doorway, clad still in his pajamas. He yawned and scratched his bare shoulder.
“Have a cup, if you want.” Glen gestured toward the coffee maker. He sipped his own. “I thought I warned you not to sneak up on me.”
“I wasn’t sneaking.” Davis crossed the floor and took a mug from the overhead cupboard. He poured coffee, sloshing some onto his hand. He winced slightly and wiped it on his sleeveless shirt and turned. “I thought you could hear me, or smell me.”
Glen shook his head absently. “No, I guess I’m not too perceptive this early in the morning.” He chuckled a bit.
“Guess not.” Davis took a seat across from him. “Are we still on for the gathering tonight?”
“Yeah, as far as I know. Rose hasn’t called it off yet.” He paused. “I almost thought she would.”
Davis nodded slowly. His gaze rested on the steaming mug in front of him. Glen spoke again.
“It’s tough on them, I know. But there’s nothing we can do. I’ve tried.”
“It’s their business what goes on between them, but it affects us all.” Davis lifted his gaze to Glen. “I don’t think I could handle the tension tonight.”
“We don’t have much of a choice. We have to.” Glen drank more of the coffee and set it down with a loud thunk. He glanced out the window. The sun was just rising. He quickly changed the topic. “How’s Slater?”
He saw Davis stiffen. His fingers tensed around the mug’s handle. “I wouldn’t know,” he said stiffly.
Glen nodded in understanding. He knew the relationship between the half-brothers was strained.
“It was Simon’s fault. If it hadn’t been for him—” Davis began, darkly.
“We don’t need to tread old ground,” Glen interrupted. “I’m sorry I brought it up.” He took a deep breath. “You know Slater will be there tonight.”
“I know.”
“And I was just wondering how the two of you stood. I don’t want to have to break up another fight between you guys.”
“I’ll behave if he does,” Davis answered. For a moment, Glen detected a hint of sadness in his eyes. It was gone a moment later. Davis lifted his cup shakily to his lips and drank.
“Good.” Glen nodded. “We are a pack after all. We are supposed to stick together, not quarrel senselessly.”
“Yes, wise one,” Davis mocked, but the jest was lighthearted and Glen smiled.
“Just remember that.” He returned to being serious. “I might have to deal with Jason tonight. That’ll be tough enough without having to babysit the two of you.”
Davis shot him an annoyed glance as he drained his mug and stood up. “I don’t need you to tell me how to deal with Slater. It’s just going to take some time, that's all.”
“Yeah.” Glen stared into his mug, remembering back to the day when the brothers had first discovered they shared a mother. It had been a horrible day. Simon had kidnapped Rose and everything was thrust into terrible turmoil. Davis had been with him, an unwilling participant in Simon’s game. During a search to discover the truth behind Davis's lineage and the origin of his were-gene, he had uncovered the terrible truth. Both young men were shocked, disbelieving it, but it was undeniable. They were brothers and they were divided by anger and mistrust. Glen came back to himself and shook his head. “Slater’s had three years. How much longer will it take?”
“Forever, probably.” Davis crossed the floor and dumped the mug in the sink. “I held the gun that killed our mother. He saw that. Simon may have made me do it, yeah, but to Slater, it was all my fault. I can’t explain it to him otherwise.”
“He’ll come around.” Glen finished his coffee. “Just no fighting tonight. No more extra tension, you got that?”
“Yeah, I got it.” He glanced toward the window. The sun was up and the light streamed into the windows, bright and yellow. “I better get dressed and around before everyone is up. I still have to finish those reports you wanted before we head out tonight.”
“Likewise. I have to call Pierce. I’m leaving him in charge for the next two days.”
“Pierce.” Davis blinked. “He's a pompous ass.”
“I know, but he is the vice president of the PRDI. It would only be right to leave him in charge, even if he can be a jerk.”
“Guess that’s why they overlooked him in favor of you, huh?”
“Perhaps.” A grin stretched Glen’s face. “I like to think it’s because I’ve been here my whole life and know the place inside and out.”
Davis laughed softly. “Yeah, that makes more sense.”
“I better get on that.” Glen furrowed his brows together. “After we finish here, we can go pick Claire up at the safe house and head out that way.”
At the mention of Claire’s name, Davis became edgy. He looked down at the floor. Glen smirked slightly, knowing the two of them had been trying to date on and off again for the past few months. He said nothing about it. It was Davis who spoke up.
“I worry about her sometimes, staying there all alone. I mean, it’s the place where it all happened. How does that not bother her?”
Glen tried not to shudder. The raid three years ago had nearly destroyed the small safe house, but with some of Claire’s money and a large construction team, the place had been redone. Even though it looked new, there was still an air of doom hanging over the house. So many people had died there.
“I don’t understand it either, but it’s the least we could do. We have new security, encrypted codes on all files. No one will be getting in now. Maybe she feels safe there, knowing nothing can get in or out with all the new technology. It’s probably best not to think of it like that. It’s better to look ahead, not toward the past like so many other people.” For a second, he thought of Jason, angry at Simon and hell-bent on finding him. He shook it away.
“Yeah, when you say it like that, it doesn’t seem so bad. Just as long as she is safe and happy there, then no worries.”
“No worries.”
Glen fell silent. It was still unsettling. The silence became uncomfortable around them. Glen stood and turned his back to Davis as he poured his second cup. Today was going to be horrible, he could already tell.
Davis was moody. “I’ll talk to you later. I better get started. There’s a lot I need to do.”
Glen listened as the footsteps fell away and he was alone once more. Davis was right. There was a lot he needed to do as well. He lifted the cup to his lips and began to take a big drink from it when a crashing sound startled him. He dropped the mug and it shattered on the floor. Coffee spilled all over the legs of his jeans and he cursed loudly.
No one had broken into the PRDI since the night of the raid, but Glen was quick to jump into action. It only took him three steps to cross the kitchen floor. It took him less than three seconds to sprint down the hallway and make it to the front door. The hall rug slid from beneath his feet. He grabbed the banister of the staircase just in time to keep from falling.
The front door stood wide open, thrown back with what appeared to be great force. A table once holding a vase of flowers lay toppled on its side, the glass broken and water spilled. Photo frames were askew on the wall behind the door. Glen stared in disbelief.
Jason stood in the open doorway, sunlight streaming in from behind him. Glen opened his mouth to say something, but immediately shut it. The look on Jason’s face was anything but pleasant. Glen could see the way his temples throbbed and knew he was clenching his teeth.
“Dear God,” Glen finally breathed. Realization dawned on him. He could only think of one logical explanation as to why Jason was here, why he had ripped open the door in such a ferocious manner. “What’s happened? Where’s Rose? Is she all right?”
“Nothing’s happened,” Jason said immediately. The tone in his voice sounded annoyed, tired. Glen was skeptical. He blinked several times.
“What do you mean? Are you sure?” He walked toward him slowly. “Is something wrong?”
“No, Glen,” Jason said, with more annoyance than before. “Everything’s fine. Rose is fine. I just couldn’t sleep.” Without giving more of an explanation, Jason stormed past him. Glen caught a strong whiff of the half-blood scent, but nothing else. At least he hadn’t been drinking again.
“So you drove all night just to come here?” Glen closed the door and bent to retrieve the fallen table and broken glass. He paused and glanced up. Jason stood at the head of the stairs and looked down at him.
“I need to look up something,” he replied, as if that were answer enough. “I need to use the database on your computer. I was hoping you could help.”
It was about Simon again. Glen could see it in his eyes. It was the only reason Jason came to the PRDI, to make use of its systems for his research.
“Well, you know where to find it.” Glen paused. “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”
“Positive.” Jason answered without skipping a beat. He turned and disappeared down the hall before Glen had a chance to say anything more.
There would be no reasoning with him, Glen knew. Jason was hard-headed and obsessed. His fascination with Simon would drive them all into something terrible. Glen let out a deep breath.
He thought of Rose and wondered what his cousin was doing now. Was she awake, wondering where Jason ran off to? Or was she crying like she often did when she telephoned him at night? It really pissed him off to think of her mistreated. She was like a little sister to him, after all. Jason was driving a stake into the heart of their relationship with his relentless pursuit of Simon.
The scent of fresh blood awakened his senses and brought him back to reality. He glanced down at his hands. The glass had cut into his palm and the blood began to drip onto the hardwood flooring beneath his feet. He let the pieces fall.
“What the hell was that all about?” Davis’s voice was loud. He stood in the doorway to his downstairs bedroom. He was only half-dressed in blue jeans. His bare feet made little noise on the floor. He held his sneakers in one hand, watching Glen with a confused stare.
Glen wiped his bloody hands on his jeans. He would have to change them anyway. “It’s Jason and he’s pissed.”
“What’s new?” Davis answered. He began to cross the floor to Glen, but stopped when he saw the broken glass everywhere. He hesitated, flexing his bare feet on the floor. “What’s he doing here?”
“The same thing he always does when he’s here.” Glen stood up and glanced toward the stairs. “Looking for Simon.”
Davis’s reaction was expected. He clenched his teeth together and closed his fist around his shoelaces. “Again?” he asked in a strained voice. “Why? Why does he keep doing this?”
“I don’t know, Davis, I wish I did.”
“It’s not enough that we are all suffering because of what Simon did, but we have to relive it every fucking time he comes here.”
“Davis,” Glen warned.
Davis took a deep breath and closed his eyes. After a moment, he exhaled and looked at him once more. “Someone has to stop him," he said, his voice dark.
Glen mildly shook his head. “It’s an obsession. There is no stopping him.” He paused to think. “Not until he finds out the truth. Simon is dead. He’s not coming back and he’ll have to come to that on his own.”
Davis fell silent but Glen knew he wasn’t finished. He would drop it for now, and then bring it up once more, sometime later. Glen did not want to deal with it today or any other day.
“Don’t,” he said when Davis opened his mouth to speak. “Don’t start it. If Jason needs to blow off steam, let him. Just as long as he’s no
t out there hurting someone, I don't care.”
Except Rose. He’s hurting Rose, Glen thought with a pang of anger.
“He’s crazy. Doesn’t he realize what he’s doing?” Davis asked. He gestured toward the steps wildly with one arm. “He’s putting us all in danger again.”
Glen stared at the man before him. His gray eyes gleamed with anger. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. It occurred to him suddenly how much Davis reminded him of Jason a few years ago.
“I don’t think he does realize and that’s the problem.” Glen stepped over the broken glass. It crunched loudly under his feet. He stood in front of him. “Listen, Jason is unstable. I can’t stop him.”
Davis nodded slightly. “I know.”
Glen glanced back at the staircase. “And I am just as worried as you are—”
“I don’t want to talk about it any more,” Davis interrupted. “I just want to get this day over and done with.” He paused and blinked a few times. His gaze followed Glen’s. “Do you think he’ll be all right?”
“Eventually, maybe.” Glen wasn’t sure. “I’ll check on him, try to talk with him maybe. I don’t know.”
Davis said nothing else. He slipped back into his room and shut the door behind him, leaving Glen alone in the hall. He stood there a moment longer, gathering the courage to climb up the steps and speak to Jason.
Glen knew it would be in vain. Jason would never listen to him. He would continue on his path to destruction, hurting all those around him, especially himself.
He would have to try anyway.
* * *
Jason heard everything from the second floor landing. He hadn’t disappeared into the room as Glen assumed. He pressed his back against the wall and clenched his fists to his sides.
So, I’ve become a liability, huh? he thought angrily to himself. Well, they won’t think that when I find the truth. Simon is alive.
He pushed away from the wall and stomped his way through the upstairs hall. For someone who hated the PRDI with a passion, Jason knew his way around it pretty well. He had walked these halls too many times to count over the past few years, always following the same path.
Hunter's Moon Page 2