Hunter's Moon

by Rose Marie Wolf

  But her fear of their uncertain future grew stronger. As much fun as it had been with Davis, she still wasn’t ready to make it a permanent thing. She forced the thoughts of him out of her head and switched off the bedside light. She thought of Rose for a moment. If she did happen to come by, the door buzzer would alert her. It took a while before Claire felt sleepy again, but once she did, it was a matter of seconds before she was out.

  She hadn’t even realized she had fallen asleep until she was jarred awake rudely by the ringing of her cell phone. Still attached to its power cord, it danced and vibrated across the night stand. Half asleep and annoyed because of it, Claire grabbed the phone and yanked the cord from the wall.

  “Hello?” She expected Rose’s voice to answer.

  “Claire.” It was Davis. He sounded worried, anxious. She sat up in the bed, propping herself on her elbow. “Something’s happened.”

  She felt cold all over suddenly. “What?”

  “It’s Simon.”

  Sweat began to trickle down her back and bead on her forehead. It was strange how a name could bring back such horrors. She was wide awake now. She was afraid to ask. “What about him?”

  “He’s back. Jason was right. He’s alive.” Davis’s voice trembled slightly.

  “No, that’s—it’s impossible.” She didn’t want to believe it. “He’s dead. They saw his body—”

  Davis sighed. “He attacked Jason and Rose. He took her.”

  Claire fell silent. She couldn’t argue with him anymore. She felt sick to her stomach and wanted to throw up. She let out a shaky breath. “Oh, God.”

  Davis was silent for a long time and it soon became uncomfortable. Claire closed her eyes, trying to think of something to say. “How’s Jason?” It sounded stupid but once she said it, she couldn’t take it back. She heard Davis smacking his lips. It took a while before he spoke.

  “He’s pissed.” He paused. “I’ve seen him pissed before, Claire, but never like this. It’s like a part of him is gone, taken away from him.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “I know,” Davis continued. “Rebel and Aurora were there and they saw Simon take Rose and run. There is no doubt it’s him—”

  “But how? How can it be?”

  “I don’t know, I really don’t. Rebel called Glen. Jason talked with him, and for once, he’s actually asking for help.”

  “How are Rebel and Aurora?”

  “They’re a bit shocked. Hell, all of us are. Aurora broke down, cried for a bit, Rebel said, but she’s fine now.”

  “Where are they?” Claire flipped the bedside light on and swung her legs around.

  “They are still at the cabin. Jason wants us there. He’s ready to wage war, literally.”

  Claire let out a breath. “God.” It was all she could say.

  “God has nothing to do with it,” Davis said offhandedly. “Listen, Claire, Glen wants you to meet us there. We might need your help in tracking Simon down.”

  “Davis, you know I’ve tried.”

  “You didn’t try, Claire,” he chided. “None of us believed him, so we didn’t listen. We didn’t try. But this time, we have to. We have no choice. Jason won’t stop. You know it; I know it.”

  “Davis—”

  “Claire, you have to try. Can you meet us at the cabin?”

  “Davis, I don’t know.”

  “Glen would like it.”

  “You would like it…”

  Her words must’ve stung because Davis took in a deep breath and exhaled in a hiss. “Why do you have to be that way, Claire?” He asked softly. “I’m not asking this for myself, as much as I would like to see you again. I’m asking because you might be the only one who can help us find him. You have access to the all those files, those codes. There must be something in them that’ll point toward Simon.”

  Claire felt suddenly ashamed. She was being antagonistic toward Davis when really, she was angry with herself for their futile attempts at a relationship. She wanted to apologize, but refrained. He was right. She took a long breath.

  “You don’t have to do it for me,” Davis said, slowly. “Do it for Jason. Do it for Rose.”

  Claire didn’t consider it for very long. She knew when she was backed between a rock and a hard place. She had little choice. She had to help.

  “All right, I’ll be there.” She sighed.

  “Thank you, Claire. We’ll wait for you.” Davis lingered on the line, waiting for her to say something else. When she didn’t, he broke the silence with a tentative goodbye.

  “Goodbye, Davis.” She hit the end call button and stared down at the phone until the number vanished. She put it back on the nightstand, plugging it back into its power cord. Everything else now took a place on the back burner as she tried to sort out her own muddled thoughts on the current situation. There were more important things going on than her screwed up relationship with Davis.

  Never had she imagined Simon returning, nor did she think they would ever need her to find him. But here it was. Simon Conner was alive and it renewed every horrible memory she had experienced since first meeting him. Three years worth of nightmares rose to the surface. She shivered. Jason had been right all along.

  For a long moment she couldn’t move from where she sat on the edge of the bed. She couldn’t do it, she was sure. She couldn’t face Simon after all these years.

  But there was no assurance she would meet him again, just uncertainty and horror. The coward in her wanted to drop out of the whole mess and hide in her room until it was over. But Claire was a good person and she wanted to help. If Simon did have Rose, then it was only a matter of time before he finally consummated his ultimate goal. Horrified at the thought of her friend and alpha female in that uncouth predicament, she awoke from her lethargy and began to get dressed. Her fears were finally overcome, if only temporarily.

  If Claire hurried, she could get there by midday. There still might be time to find Simon and stop him before it was too late for Rose and Jason.

  * * *

  She reached Jason and Rose’s cabin home around two in the afternoon. It was hot for an autumn day, and she drove with the air conditioning on. The chill worked effectively enough to keep her awake during the long drive.

  The driveway was crowded with an assortment of vehicles: Glen’s van, Jason’s Camaro, Rebel’s bike and a car she recognized as one used by the PRDI. Claire pulled her car in between the Dodge Ram Cheyenne drove and Slater’s truck and cut the engine. Davis was waiting for her on the front porch.

  He looked weary in the warm sunlight. His skin had a yellow, sickly cast to it. Even his dark hair seemed dull and lifeless in the light.

  “Hi Claire,” he said once she climbed the steps and reached him. Under other circumstances, they may have hugged, but their previous arguments created a heavy tension between them. Davis shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other and turned to stare across the open fields, toward the road. Claire noticed his eyes were lusterless like his hair. She didn’t return the greeting.

  “Where is everyone?”

  Davis didn’t answer right away. He hesitated, a hand fluttering briefly on the railing. She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if he had fallen back into his old ways of clouding his troubles with drugs.

  “They’re in the living room,” he said in a voice that sounded thick.

  Claire hesitated, not sure what to say now. If Davis would allow it, maybe they could talk later, after this mess was over with. Maybe. For now, there was nothing either of them wanted to say to the other. Claire sighed softly. She left him alone, before the silence grew too disheartening. She opened the screen door and entered the house.

  Aurora was seated on the couch in conversation with Slater, who stood beside her. Claire could hear Glen and Rebel’s voices drifting from the kitchen. Jason was nowhere to be found. Neither was Cheyenne.

  “Claire.” Aurora rose and crossed the floor to greet her. She embraced her tightly. “I’m glad
you’re here,” she said. Claire was shocked by how wan Aurora looked, as if she had grown very old in a short time. It was hard to believe that just a few days ago, they had all been here at the gathering, happy and carefree.

  Well, almost all of them.

  She released Aurora’s embrace and looked around. Jason wasn’t anywhere around and she wondered if he had skipped out already. But his car was still in the drive, so she knew he hadn’t left. Claire furrowed her brows together.

  “Where’s Jason?”

  “In his room.” Slater approached them. “He won’t come out.”

  “Cheyenne’s in there with him. She thought maybe she could talk some sense into him,” Aurora said.

  “Any luck?”

  “No.” The girl shook her head. Some strands of her dark hair clung to her forehead. She swept them aside. “Not yet.”

  Slater shifted his weight beside Claire and put his hands in his pockets. The room fell silent. Glen came forward from the kitchen island and stood in the kitchen doorway. Rebel stood behind him, peering over his shoulder to watch the rest of them. They all looked tired, worried. She really dreaded asking the question she knew she had to.

  “What happened?”

  “From what Jason has told us—and from Aurora and Rebel’s accounts—Simon burst in through the patio doors and attacked,” Glen began. “He shifted to his wolf form and was about to go in for the kill when Aurora and Rebel walked in. Simon must’ve been startled because he moved away from Jason, grabbed Rose and fled.”

  Claire quickly surveyed the room, surprised she hadn’t noticed the distress first thing. Part of the wall was smashed in, red-brown with dried blood. Broken pieces of wood were pushed against the wall, brushed out of the way with a hurried cleaning. It looked like a tornado had whipped through.

  A tornado named Simon.

  “God.” Claire could hardly fathom it. “How could he have survived? He fell out a window. I don’t know anyone that could survive something like that.”

  “Simon is a werewolf. He’s stronger and faster than a human. He can heal fast. We just didn’t take it into full consideration.” Glen stepped forward. He looked tall, intimidating in all black. His hair was tied back, his dark eyes bright, calculating. “That was our mistake.”

  “But if a werewolf sustains heavy injuries—” Claire started. Glen interrupted her.

  “He can still survive. Take Jason for example. Simon pumped him full of bullets but he still lived.”

  “Jason’s only a half-blood,” Slater said. His thick eyebrows were drawn together as he thought heavily on something. “He’s nowhere near as strong as a full-blood, as Simon.”

  Glen sighed and a troubled look came over his face. Claire found it odd and she exchanged confused glances with Aurora. The girl looked worried. Her eyes were wide.

  “What is it?” she asked him. Glen shook his head dismissively.

  “Jason’s not just a half-blood.”

  “What do you mean?” Slater asked. He didn’t look worried, just curious. Claire felt a knot begin in her stomach. Whatever Glen was about to say was going to create quite an impact. Rebel moved away from the doorway and leaned against the wall, behind Glen. They waited.

  Glen was cornered. He lowered his eyes a moment and closed them as he took a deep breath. “Jason kept it secret from nearly everyone. Rose knew and she told me. Jason’s not just a half-blood werewolf. He’s also partly psychic.”

  “What?” Davis opened the screen door to the cabin and stood at the threshold. “What do you mean?”

  “His mother…She’s psychic.”

  Claire felt cold again. They all looked to Glen, waiting for him to finish. He didn’t get the chance.

  “She was psychic,” a voice said from down the hall. Everyone turned to see Jason standing in the darkness. Claire gasped. It was Jason, but it didn’t look like him. His skin was pale and his blue eyes dark. A shadow of a beard covered his chin and upper lip. His clothing was wrinkled, dirty.

  Cheyenne stepped out from behind him. Apparently, her talk had urged him to come out of his room. She put a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged her away. His eyes were affixed on Glen and Claire knew that look. He was angry.

  “My mother, last time I checked, is dead. Yes, she was psychic, and yes, that’s where I get these premonitions, dreams and ‘feelings’ from. Thanks for telling everyone, Glen.” He finished in a heavily bitter voice.

  Claire looked toward Glen. The older man didn’t look worried or frightened. He looked sad.

  “I’m sorry, Jason. I had to tell them.”

  “You didn’t have to tell them shit.” Jason moved down the hall, toward them. Cheyenne followed, but then broke away from him. She was silent as she sat down in a chair against the wall. She watched them with her hazel eyes, waiting for someone to make a move.

  “Yes, I did Jason.”

  Jason crossed the floor, pushing past Aurora as he did so. Glen blocked his path into the kitchen. He didn’t move aside.

  “Why don’t you finish telling them, Jason? I think they deserve an explanation,” Glen said in a low voice. Claire had never heard him speak like that. It was unnerving.

  Jason didn’t break his eyes from Glen’s face. Claire knew him well enough to know he hated asking for help. Having all of them here, backing him up was both a blessing and an annoyance. She wasn’t very good with psychology, but she knew Jason must be torn between accepting the help and pushing them away. He seemed to be leaning more toward his old habits. He sneered at Glen.

  “No, they don’t need to know about me, about my family. None of that is important.”

  “It may be,” Glen said. “Tell them.”

  “Fuck you.” He turned to face the rest of them. “Fuck all of you!” His lips had gone white. His bloodshot eyes seemed to flicker with bits of gold. Claire trembled, took a step back. Aurora did the same, hugging herself for comfort. “I don’t need your help.”

  “Are you forgetting you’re the one who called us here?” Cheyenne finally spoke up from her chair. Her voice drawled, slow and lazy, but with clear meaning. “We talked about this, Jason. Accept our help. We can get Rose back. We can stop Simon. It’s not too late.”

  Now it was Jason who was backed into a corner.

  “Stop pushing us away,” Glen continued. Jason turned back to face him. His voice was softer, more understanding. “Tell them. They need to know.”

  Jason stared at him for a long moment more and turned to them. “All right,” he said, begrudgingly. “My mother was a psychic, but she was insane. She was in a mental hospital. I never met her.” It wasn’t a very good explanation, but it was all he offered.

  “How did that help you survive?” Claire asked. “How does being part psychic save you?” She had always wondered about it, but having limited knowledge of the supernatural left her stumped, clueless.

  “I don’t know,” Jason said, “but it did. It’s the only explanation I have.”

  No one said anything else. The screen door squeaked on its hinges and slammed as Davis stepped in and shut it behind him.

  “In any case,” Glen began, “Simon survived. Jason was right in saying he was alive.” He looked down at him. “We are sorry we didn’t believe you.”

  If Jason was pleased by this admission, Claire didn't see it. Jason only nodded.

  “We need a plan.” Slater moved to Aurora and put an arm around her shoulder.

  “Yes, we do.” Glen said. He looked to Claire. “I might have one but it will involve some long hours in front of a computer screen. Are you up for it, Claire?”

  Claire sucked in a breath, feeling put on the spot when everyone turned to look at her. “I’m not sure what I can do, Glen, but I’m here. I could try,” she said, trying not to sound as nervous as she felt.

  “Good. I think we might have a chance to find Simon now that we know he’s alive. There might be other resources open to us.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Claire said, “b
ut, yeah, I’m up for it.”

  “Me too,” Cheyenne said, “I’m not too great with technology, but I’ll do anything you need me to.”

  Glen nodded. He glanced at Jason. “We’ll get her back, Jason. Just give us some time.”

  “We might not have any time left,” he answered in a cold voice. Claire rubbed her arms up and down to calm the goose pimples that sprouted there.

  “You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you, Jason?” Glen’s voice held a warning tone. When Claire looked at his face she had to admit she was scared by how severe he looked. “You’re not going to jump up and leave, run out on us?”

  Jason stared hard at him for a very long time. When he answered, he sounded defeated. Claire knew it must pain him to admit it. He was strong willed, but a part of him had been destroyed by Simon’s return. She wondered if he would ever be the same again.

  “No, Glen. I’m staying. I’m getting Rose back, and I am killing that son of a bitch once and for all.”

  “Amen to that,” Slater answered. Everyone else nodded and murmured an agreement. It was set. They would begin their search for Simon as soon as possible. He deserved to pay for what he had done.

  Claire wasn’t very surprised to find she was looking forward to it.

  Chapter Ten

  She dreamt of shifting. In her dreams, she was wolf and she ran with the wind in her fur. She was free again. It was what she lived for.

  The moon was overhead, bright in the clear sky. There were no clouds to be seen, just the blanket of black and the pinprick points of light that were the stars and sky. The scents of the night were alive. She smelled earth and water; blood, fur and fear from the creatures dwelling near her running path were strong. She took pleasure in it. This place was hers.

  This was a dream, however. It wasn’t real and she knew it. Trying to keep her dismay to a minimum, she decided to enjoy the extra elation for as long as she could. She ran, paws thudding softly on the grass and earth, kicking up clouds of dust that faded into the air. A new scent drifted toward her.