Hunter's Moon

by Rose Marie Wolf

  “You don’t have to be angry, Jason, not at us.”

  “I’m not angry with you. I’m angry at him.”

  “I know.”

  Jason let out a breath.

  Glen watched his shoulders slump as he exhaled. This had taken more from Jason than he realized. He remembered quite well what had happened to him when Simon had taken Rose before. He had gone on a rampage of revenge. Fueled blindly by his anger, he did anything he could to find him and get her back.

  This time, Jason’s anger and revenge seemed used up. It was as if he were nothing but an empty shell of who he once was. He didn’t even have the strength to go after him.

  Glen waited a few moments before he retraced his way back on topic. “How would they have found out about your mother?”

  “It’s getting stronger.”

  “Your psychic abilities?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “How do you think I mean, Glen? They are getting stronger. I can’t control them. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing any more.”

  “Tell me. If anyone can help, it’s me.” And that was true. He was the head of the PRDI, after all, and had been submersed in the supernatural from birth. He knew he couldn’t force anything out of Jason. It was completely up to him to bridge that gap.

  Jason finally turned halfway to look at him from the corner of his eye. “The dreams, Glen. I dreamt about Simon nearly every night. I knew, somehow, that he was alive. My dreams told me that, and they were right.”

  “Everyone is prone to having precognitive dreams,” Glen explained. “Even those not psychically gifted. Rose’s mother had them from time to time, and so has Rose. It’s not that uncommon.”

  The explanation didn’t seem to help. Perhaps it was the mention of Rose that turned him stoic once again. Whatever it was, Jason turned his back to Glen and faced the open fields and the trees far into the distance.

  “What else is there?” Glen waited a few moments before asking. Jason didn’t seem too eager to talk, but Glen was curious.

  “Feelings,” he answered in a thick voice. He cleared his throat. “Feelings I can’t explain. Like knowing, for instance, where someone or something is, that something is going to happen. It happens more often now and the feelings are much stronger.”

  Glen nodded his head, though Jason did not see him. “Go on.”

  “There’s not much else. Just feelings. I wish I knew how to control it, to hone it into an actual skill I can use.”

  “But you can use it, and you have.”

  “Yeah, once maybe.”

  “Yes, but you have the potential to use it more, for better purposes.”

  At his last words, Jason turned fully to stare Glen. His eyes were brilliant and bright. “How can I do that, Glen? Wouldn’t I have to join the PRDI and become one of the guinea pigs?” There was sarcasm evident in his voice. He still had not forgiven the Institute for their past misgivings. It wasn’t Glen’s fault; that had happened under old management, but being in charge now made him feel obligated to accept the blame.

  He sighed. “You know that’s not true, Jason, not anymore. I’m not asking you to join the PRDI. I’m just asking that you accept my help in teaching you to control these abilities. I know others who have experienced similar abilities to your own. I have helped them. I can help you.”

  Jason’s eyebrows drew together as he considered it. “I’ll have to think about it.”

  “There’s nothing to think about, Jason. It’s something you have to do. You know better than I do you can’t wait this out.”

  Glen knew Jason realized he was right. He recognized defeat by bowing his head slightly and closing his eyes for a moment. He took a deep breath, exhaled then nodded.

  “All right, Glen. What do I need to do?”

  A grin spread over Glen’s face. Jason, stubborn as he was, could eventually be reasoned with. One just needed to use the right words to steer him in the right direction. “It’s not going to be easy. You’ll have to do a lot of mental training.”

  “My brain already hurts.”

  Glen couldn’t help it and chuckled.

  Jason looked at him, half smiling. “When do I get started?”

  “Today?”

  “Today is as good as any.” Jason looked out toward the road. “Do you think she’ll be able to find him? I couldn’t find jack shit.”

  “She can try. That’s all I can guarantee.”

  Jason nodded his head. The half-smile had long faded and his face was grim once more.

  “I only wish it could be more,” Glen finished.

  The door opened behind them and they turned. Aurora and Slater stepped out. She looked tired, extremely weary.

  “I’m going to have to go.” She hugged Glen. “I have class in the morning and I need some sleep.”

  “I understand.”

  She turned to hug Jason, but hesitated. She seemed afraid and uncertain. She gave in, however, and wrapped her arms around Jason for a brief moment. Glen was the only one who caught the saddened look on his face when they parted.

  “Slater’s going to give me a ride,” she said, brushing hair from her face. “I’m sorry I can’t stay.”

  “There’s nothing you can do anyway, kid,” Jason said softly. “Just take it easy.”

  Aurora gave a small smile. “Call me if anything comes up.”

  “We will,” Glen answered.

  “See you guys.” Slater gave a slight wave as they turned to leave. A few minutes later and they were in his truck. The engine came to life and gravel crunched as he backed up and started out the driveway.

  Glen and Jason watched until the truck was gone from the driveway, disappearing down the road in the distance.

  “They’re good kids,” Glen said after a while. “I just wish things could be different for them.”

  Jason agreed with a soft grunt. “We’ve all had to grow up much too soon.”

  Glen nodded. “Sad thing is it didn’t have to be that way. The world is a cruel place, especially for people like us.”

  “It won’t get any better,” Jason said, in a soft, introspective voice. “It’s great what you do for people, Glen. I never liked the PRDI, you know that better than anyone, but I have to admit that the Institute has helped a lot. But it’s not enough.”

  “I know.” Glen sighed. “It’ll never be enough.”

  “At least we agree on one thing.”

  The men fell silent, staring out toward the road. So much had happened to them and there was no certainty of the future. Glen somehow knew that there was much more in store for them, and not all of it would be good. He kept this to himself. There was no need for him to tell Jason. He might’ve already picked up on it.

  Jason stirred beside him and cleared his throat. “So when do we get started?”

  * * *

  Claire heard the starting of the truck’s engine when Slater and Aurora left, but she paid no notice of anything until the engine of the Camaro roared loudly and startled her. She stopped, hand hovering in mid-stroke over the keyboard. Jason was leaving again. She figured he would. She sighed as she looked out the window of Rose’s study.

  It had a beautiful view of the west. Claire could see the sun just beginning to sink into the horizon. The tops of the forest trees swayed in the faint breeze. They had turned a beautiful golden and red, autumn colors. Claire blinked a few times. Her eyes hurt. She rubbed them. She had a task to do, but she could use a short break.

  She swiveled her chair and jumped. She gasped before she could stop herself.

  Davis sat in the darkness of the study, near the door. She had never heard him enter. She put a hand over her chest and felt her racing heart.

  “I was wondering when you would notice I was here,” he said softly. He didn’t seem amused at having scared her. Claire suddenly felt furious, not only at him but at herself.

  “What the hell are you doing, sneaking up on me like that?” Her heart began to c
alm to a normal pace. She watched him.

  “You should be more aware of things like that,” he continued, as if he hadn’t heard her question. He stood and walked to her.

  “Well, some of us don’t have the extra advantage of super sensitive hearing or smell.”

  “I’m sorry I frightened you,” he said in the same soft voice. His bright eyes searched her face. Claire forced herself not to look into them.

  “What do you want?” she asked, turning back to the computer. Rose’s computer was elaborate and state of the art. Claire had helped her set up the network so she was very familiar with it. It still seemed foreign, though, sitting here in Rose’s private study. Everywhere there were little knickknacks and photos, giving it just a little touch of her personality.

  Claire felt like an intruder. She focused on the wedding photo next to the computer monitor. Rose seemed happy, dressed in a simple white gown, her arm linked with Jason’s as she leaned in for a kiss. Jason, tall and somewhat intimidating in his black dress outfit, looked stern. Even on his wedding day he looked fierce. She stared away from the photo quickly, not wanting to look at it any more.

  “I just came to check on you,” Davis answered.

  “Well, knock next time,” she said, irritably. “Where did Jason go?”

  “I think he went to the PRDI, with Glen. I overheard them talking to Cheyenne and Rebel about it just a few minutes ago.”

  Claire nodded, still feeling angry at him. For some reason, she held onto her anger instead of just letting go. She turned her back to him and stared at the computer screen. She heard him step closer to her. The wooden floor board creaked under his weight. She could feel his eyes on her and for some reason it made her nervous. She lowered her head.

  “You don’t need to check up on me,” she said. “I’m a big girl.”

  “I know, Claire, but I worry.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  There was an uncomfortable silence. She could almost feel his eyes burning against her skin. She wanted him to just leave her alone. She started to tell him as much, but when she turned, Davis was already at the door, one hand on the doorknob.

  “I’m sorry things can’t work out between us,” he said in a saddened voice. He stared down at his hand, flexing his fingers around the doorknob. When he finally looked up at her, his eyes seemed distant, sad. Had he been crying?

  The angry feelings Claire felt suddenly disappeared. She wanted to go to him and wrap her arms around him, but instead she wrapped them around herself.

  “Davis—” she began, but he cut her off.

  “Claire, I wasn’t lying when I said I understood. I do. But there is something I don’t understand.” He paused, and looked away, as if it hurt him to speak the words.

  “When are we going to stop this dance? When are we finally going to admit how we feel about each other?” He was suddenly adamant. He released his hold on the door and took two steps toward her. His hand trembled as he lifted it in a gesture toward her. “You keep making your excuses, I keep making excuses, but we both know the truth—”

  “Don’t.” She didn’t want to hear what he was going to say.

  “—We love each other,” he finished.

  Just hearing it said aloud hurt. Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. She didn’t want him to see so she lowered her head and turned away from him.

  Behind her, Davis sighed. He said nothing else. There was no need to.

  Furiously, Claire began to wipe away the hot tears. Why did he have to do this to her? She had told him she wasn’t ready for a relationship. Why did he have to insist upon it?

  She wasn’t aware he moved toward her until she felt the heat of his body behind her. His hand touched her shoulder, heavy and warm. It was comforting and that upset her even more. She turned and pressed herself against his body. His arms enfolded her, crushing her to him.

  “I’m sorry.” She sobbed into the softness of his shirt. She could smell his soft cologne, his deodorant. He rubbed her back with one hand, the back of her head and her hair with the other.

  “For what?” he whispered against the top of her head.

  “For anything, for everything.” She sniffed. He held her like that for a long time. His hands stopped roaming, one resting on her lower back, and the other on her neck. She could feel the strong beat of his heart against her chest. She closed her eyes, slowed her breathing. She wanted to enjoy this moment, but she couldn’t, not for long anyway.

  He was right. She did love him and he loved her. She should’ve felt at peace then, knowing that, but she wasn’t. Their future was still uncertain. How long would they last this time?

  She pulled away from Davis and wiped her eyes. He watched her carefully, hand supporting her arm.

  “Are you going to be okay?” he asked in a gentle voice.

  Claire nodded, though she felt she wouldn’t be. Davis blinked a few times and nodded. His expression was incredulous. He didn’t believe her, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want to argue anymore, not tonight.

  “I have a lot of work to do,” she said. If the sudden change in her attitude disturbed him, he didn’t give notice.

  He nodded that he understood. “Need any help?”

  The air in the room seemed lighter, their demeanors less severe. Claire found that she liked it. She even smiled.

  “I need all the help I can get. Are you qualified?”

  Davis couldn’t help it and he chuckled. He gave a slight shake of his head. His eyes gleamed happily for once.

  “Possibly.”

  Claire laughed softly. “Seriously though, I could use a bit of help.”

  “What do you need? Besides more time?”

  “I need more information about Simon.”

  Davis looked at her, confused. “Why do you need my help?"

  “In order to find Simon, I need to know more about him.” She paused, remembering the detailed journal she had kept when she had worked with him. She hadn’t wanted to open it and reread the horrors in there. She had a bad feeling she was going to have to. “Maybe there’s something we’ve been overlooking, a small detail of some kind that might open the doors, so to speak. Maybe something you might know, but have forgotten to tell us.”

  Davis considered. A line formed between his brows. “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. If I knew, I wouldn't be asking.” She sighed. “Maybe there was a conversation you had with him and maybe something was mentioned: a name, a location, anything that’ll point us in some direction.”

  “I can’t remember, Claire.”

  “Please try.”

  Davis sighed. “All right. I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

  “Thanks.” Again, she smiled, but this time it felt wrong, forced.

  Everything was suddenly awkward again. Davis shuffled his feet back and forth on the floor. Claire’s smile faded as she looked away, cleared her throat. They had gone from an emotional embrace to teenage shyness once again. It was getting old.

  “I need to get back to work,” she said finally, after what seemed like forever. Davis nodded. He stepped forward and embraced her again, but he felt tense this time. She wanted to ask him if something was wrong, but thought better of it. The mention of Simon usually did that to him. She was sorry she brought it up.

  “I’ll be out in the living room,” he said. “If I remember anything, I’ll let you know.”

  “Okay.”

  She watched him leave the room. Once he had left the room and shut the door behind him, she sat back down and tried to concentrate on her work. She found, with very little surprise, that she couldn’t keep her focus. She couldn’t afford to be distracted. She forced the thoughts of Davis out of her head and renewed her search.

  Time was running out.

  Chapter Twelve

  She woke up hot. Her skin was dewy with sweat and she felt sticky all over. She wanted a cold shower before she even fully opened her eye
s. She rolled over in the bed and hit something solid, warm.

  Surprised, she opened her eyes and stared at the white flesh of a naked back. A series of bright, red lines—scratches—ran down both of the broad shoulders. When she touched it, the skin was hot.

  Her breath came out in quick little gasps as her fingertips grazed the pliable skin, feeling the bump of the scratches. This was not Jason’s back. She knew that now. The scent confirmed it.

  His scent was everywhere, all around her and she realized with a growing horror that it was Simon who lay beside her. She withdrew her hand, as if his flesh burned her. She shook horribly.

  Oh God, what have I done?

  The memory of what happened came back to her in fleeting images. She remembered her unmistakable lust, the wolf overcoming her senses. She remembered Simon’s lips, forceful against her own, his hands tearing at her clothes. She remembered her nails digging into his skin, pressing close to him, giving in to the passion.

  “No,” she whispered aloud. Quickly, she clamped a hand over her mouth. But Simon didn’t stir. He was asleep. Her breath was hot against her palm and tears burned her eyes.

  Oh, what have you done? she asked the wolf within. But the wolf was no longer there. She had retired into the back of Rose’s consciousness, satisfied with her romp.

  She felt a wet, stickiness between her thighs. She closed her eyes tightly, squeezing out a few of the tears. They ran hot down her cheeks.

  She had mated with Simon. She had given in. He had won.

  She sat up in the bed. Simon stirred just a bit, and grunted in his sleep. The dirty bed sheet slipped further down his naked body, revealing the thick patch of hair that trailed along his abdomen. She looked away quickly. She wasn’t going to lead the wolf into temptation ever again.

  Rose was naked in the dampness of the basement room, but she kicked the sheet away from her. She didn’t want to touch it. She didn’t want to touch him. Unfortunately, she was caught against the wall and her only way out of the bed was to climb over him.

  She wiped the tears away with the palm of her hand and sniffed once. She sat up a little more and peered over the sleeping mass of Simon. Clothes were strewn about the dirty floor. She spotted her jeans and her shirt, discarded carelessly among Simon’s clothes. The thought of their garments touching was almost as sickening as their bodies coming together.