Sweet Moon Dreams

by Rose Marie Wolf

  “Fucker!” Rose growled and the heel of her foot crashed down on his face. Blood spurted as the toughened heel jammed the man’s nose into his face. It broke with an audible snap. He let out a cry of pain and clutched at the broken appendage. Blood poured from his face.

  It was at that exact moment gunshots sounded once more, coming from down the hall. Rose froze where she was, torn between running out the door and to freedom, and running to assist.

  She felt she would regret it in the end, but the safety of her friends and family were more important to her than getting away. And if Rose was right, they wouldn’t kill her anyway. Not just yet.

  Her blood splattered feet slid across the floor as she made her way to the room the sounds were coming from. A dead hunter lay on the floor near her, his body leaking blood all over the floor. Various footprints were smeared in it.

  Rose felt sick once again, but she reached for the knob and turned it.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The shift hit him in mid-lunge. He collided with the man, but this time, the hunter was expecting it. He blocked, but Jason hit him with enough force to cause him to step back.

  Jason doubled over in pain. His ribs began to crack as they took on a new form, and he let out a horrible cry of pain. He couldn’t let this happen now. He had to stall it.

  Ignoring the pain that had spread to his stomach, he stood to his full height, just one or two inches shorter than the man in front of him. His fingernails had already begun the necessary change and were now deadly razor sharp claws. He raised his hand and drew it across the hunter’s chest.

  It sliced through the dark fabric of his shirt and sank into the skin. Red lines swelled and the scent of fresh blood once more dominated the air. The man let out a hiss of pain.

  Jason threw all his weight into the man’s chest as he tried to get the upper hand, but the man was solid. He would hardly budge. Jason let out an angered growl.

  The back of the hunter’s hand swept across his jaw and he fell to the floor. More of his bones popped out of place. They began to conform to a new shape. Muscles grew taut and his clothes could barely contain the wolf. The seams of his jeans started to tear and ripped along the sides. Pain erupted throughout him. Jason let out a cry.

  The hunter stood and watched him. A slow smile moved over his face.

  “I knew you would try this,” he said. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper. Jason could barely hear him over the hurt. He held in his screams by clenching his teeth. White fur started sprouting along his skin, punctuated with the darkness of his human body hair. His pelt spread across him.

  “I knew you would.” The hunter laughed now.

  This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen, Jason thought frantically. I’m supposed to get the guy down, get him injured…then shift. Not now. Not like this. What’s happening?

  He was too vulnerable. Vainly, Jason tried to stop the shift, but his mental commands did not work.

  “No!” he said aloud, but it didn’t help either.

  His claws dug into the carpet, gripping to it tightly. His face elongated and soon, human words were lost. He uttered a growl, a snarl, and his hate-filled eyes locked on the hunter.

  The man moved through the room and never turned his head from the partially shifted werewolf. He lowered himself to a crouching position and reached for something. It was the gun Jason had dropped earlier. The hunter stared down at it and cocked it back.

  Jason’s muzzle tried to form the words, but it was useless. All that sounded from him was a low growl. He moved to spring. The gun erupted in a thunderous bang, and the bullet ripped through him. In an instant, all thought of shifting left him. This new pain drowned out everything else. The wolf returned to his hiding place within the human body and left Jason to whimper.

  Shifting back was just as painful, but it was quicker. Soon, he was once more in a familiar human body. Tears spilled from his eyes, and his human cries of pain were almost screams of agony. Blood spilled from the torso wound. He grabbed at it, helplessly, and fell onto his back. It hurt so much.

  “No…” he whispered.

  “It was no trouble at all,” the hunter said. “I thought I would have at least had a fight. This is pathetic.”

  He approached Jason and threw a kick. It hit Jason’s chest, where the fresh wound was opened and gaping. Jason wouldn’t scream. He couldn’t give him the satisfaction. He shut his mouth. His lips were tight over his teeth as he held it in.

  He can’t be doing this to me. He can’t… Jason couldn’t figure it out. The man’s foot moved down with another kick, and this time, he couldn’t hold in his cries. They erupted from him, and tears washed down his face.

  Simon laughed loudly as he stared down at the hapless werewolf before him. Blood spurted from the chest wound. It hadn’t been fatal enough, but he didn’t care. He was having fun torturing him. He smirked down at Jason and drew his foot back for another kick.

  The seemingly helpless werewolf sat up, grabbed his foot and pulled him. Simon lost his balance and hit the floor hard. His head cracked against the floor, the plush carpet doing little to cover the impact of the hardwood beneath it.

  Then, the werewolf was on him. His weight held him down as he threw punches at his face. Simon, enraged, was able to bend his knees and hoist Jason off of him. Jason fell back and hit the dresser square in the back.

  Simon tasted blood and when he wiped his bottom lip with the back of his hand, a red smear shone there. He glared at him.

  “So, you can fight,” he said, coldly.

  Jason didn’t banter back. Instead, he pounced, grabbing hold of Simon’s shoulders. They sunk in and the man let out a cry of pain. He gripped Jason’s powerful arms and lifted him up.

  “How in the fuck are you doing this?” Jason demanded, his words sounded garbled and wet from the blood in his mouth.

  “There are a lot of things you don’t know!” Simon shouted. His knee hit Jason’s gut and his grip was suddenly loosened on him. His eyes had gone wide, and he gasped for air that wouldn’t come.

  Simon was quickly growing tired of his game and released Jason. The werewolf fell to the floor and was met with another kick to the stomach. Then another and another.

  Jason lay on the floor, gasping for breath. He doubled over. Simon stepped back and smirked.

  “Goodbye, Jason.” Simon said coldly as he grabbed for the gun that had once again fallen. He pulled the trigger and the final shot echoed throughout the PRDI.

  * * *

  The gunshot exploded just as the door opened. Rose stood there as the light spilled into the room. A tall man turned to regard her. Blood covered his torn chest, and dribbled from a cut on his lip. His dark hair was messy.

  He held a gun in his hand, pointed downwards toward the floor. His eyes blazed golden as he stared into hers, and a slow smile spread across his face. Her breath caught in her throat, and she found herself frozen in the doorway.

  Golden eyes…

  The room was covered in blood. The bed was covered in it. It was on the floor. It surrounded the body of Gavin. Rose let out a cry. Her hand flew to her mouth. Gavin! Her mentor, her teacher, a man who had been like a father to her was lying dead against the bed.

  Her screams couldn’t exit her quickly enough. Her hands trembled. Tears stung her eyes. The were-scent was strong in this room, but the blood scent was even stronger. Rose felt a wave of nausea hit her, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything but shake and cry and scream.

  The man smirked more as he turned his gaze away from her. The toe of his boot kicked lightly at a body lying just at his feet, a body Rose had not noticed yet.

  She didn’t want to see it. She didn’t want to be anywhere near this room. She had taken a step back and no longer stood in the doorway. Her knees felt as if they would buckle under her weight.

  The man lay upon his side, naked back covered in blood. Dark hair spilled across his shoulder, onto the carpet, and Rose could see it was matted with da
rk blood. She shook her head. She didn’t want to see any more.

  The hunter pushed again with the toe of his boot and the body fell over, and Rose could see the familiar face. The lifeless cold eyes stared up at the ceiling. The blood still ran in trickles down his naked chest, from the two cavernous bullet wounds.

  A fresh scream erupted from her.

  “Jason!” Her knees gave out, and she hit the hard floor. Disbelief and grief washed over her and devoured her. She screamed. Tears fell down her face in a river of pain.

  She was aware that the man was walking out of the room, aware that someone from behind her hoisted her up, but she couldn’t fight. She had nothing left to fight for.

  Her gaze had become glued to Jason’s lifeless body. The door to the room closed, and yellow eyes regarded her.

  Yellow eyes…

  Anger surged in her suddenly. Anger, confusion, grief, and pain tore through Rose and she knew her own rage shift was not far off. This isn’t right! She kept screaming.

  The man holding her couldn’t silence her, and suddenly, Rose gave into a fit. She began kicking, clawing, fighting her way out of his arms, but she was held fast.

  “No!” she screamed, even as she was forced and held against the wall to keep her struggling under control. “No! Jason!”

  Then something sharp pierced her side. Something flooded her bloodstream, and blackness began to surround her. Her screams were silenced. Her arms suddenly felt heavy, and she couldn’t move. Rose could barely keep her tear rimmed eyes open.

  As they began to droop, she stared at him. The man with the gun stared at her from across the hall. He no longer grinned. And his eyes were no longer yellow, but had become a deep brown. She almost expected a triumphant look to move over his face, but there was nothing of the sort.

  He looked almost…sad.

  And then everything went dark.

  * * *

  Davis watched the shrieking woman from his place on the steps, and he was overcome with something. Compassion? He wasn’t sure what it was called, but he knew what it was. It was the feeling he had felt once before, when he looked into the eyes of the young boy whose mother he had just murdered.

  The woman screamed and cried. Her face was red and her eyes golden. Davis pressed his back against the wall.

  Eric did his best to hold her still as the syringe was injected. The tranquilizer soon took effect and she was out. She slumped against Eric and he easily hefted her over his shoulder.

  Simon stared at her and blinked a few times. He let out something like a long and tired sigh.

  “That’s it, men,” he said. “We got what we came for. Let’s head out.”

  “What do you want to do with him?” Sean asked. He held the useless lump of some kid they had stumbled across. Simon looked the boy over and shrugged.

  “If you think he might prove useful later, bring him along.”

  One by one, they began to leave the PRDI building. They all milled around the van, throwing the drugged bodies of Rose and the boy into the back. Davis occupied himself with trying to stand. The pain in his leg was unbearable.

  “Simon, I need a little help.” Davis hoisted himself to his feet, but could hardly move. He tried a few gingerly steps and held onto the banister with a death grip. Simon stood in the doorway and turned slowly to look at Davis.

  “Help? You want me, to help you?” Simon scoffed and looked the young man over as if he were nothing more than a cockroach needing to be squashed.

  “Yeah…” Davis answered. He had taken another step, but the pain was too much. He felt as if his leg would buckle at any second. Simon let out something like a laugh.

  “I don’t want to help you, Davis. You’ve been a constant disappointment to me. I recruited you, thinking you capable of what I wanted. Guess I was wrong.”

  Davis looked at Simon. A look of confusion and disbelief covered his face.

  “What are you talking about, Simon?”

  “I’m talking about this.”

  Simon lifted the gun, and the bullet pierced through the lower part of Davis' leg. It ripped through the flesh and out the back of his calf.

  Davis let out a scream and crumpled to the next step. He lost his balance and tumbled the next few steps down. He hit the floor, two gaping wounds now in the same leg. Fresh tears streamed down his face. He couldn’t even question why.

  “That was for fucking up all I had worked for, you twat. Have fun in prison.” Simon leered at him.

  And with that, he turned and stepped out the door, across the lawn and into the van.

  Davis clutched his wounds. His head fell back on the floor. He clenched his teeth tightly, his anger and hurt erupted from him and he out a frustrated cry, but it did nothing to change the situation.

  With his eyes tightly closed, he listened to the sound of the van starting up and then the squeal of tires as it pulled away from the curb. The engine’s rumbling soon fell silent as they left the neighborhood, and him behind.

  And a new sound filled the air, and Davis listened to it instead. The low rumble of thunder began in the distance, and scent of fresh rain was heavy in the air. There was a drop in temperature as the clouds moved over the early morning sky. Soon, the pitter-patter of rain drops became a torrential downpour.

  He closed his eyes once more.

  * * *

  Somewhere in the darkness, he stirred and lifted a bloody hand. Her voice was left ringing in her ears. She had been screaming. She was hurt. His hand closed into a fist. He clutched desperately at something that wasn’t there. And then it fell limply back to the wet carpet.

  He was aware of pain and aware of the darkness. Then he parted his lips and mouthed her name into the dark.

  “Rose…” His voice cracked. But she did not answer. He remembered the face of the man that had done this to him, that leering sadistic grin on his face and the mocking eyes. He knew that man was going to pay…

  And then Jason fell silent and slack, the pain finally too much for him to remain conscious any longer.

  About the Author

  From a very young age, Rose Marie Wolf was interested in things that weren't quite normal, so it was no surprise when she grabbed her crayon and started scribbling out short stories about vampires, werewolves, ghosts, fairies, elves and all manner of paranormal creatures.

  Her combined love of writing and the supernatural grew and, in 2002, she began writing on her first serious work, a short story about werewolves she called "Sweet Moon Dreams". A few years later, with the help of her fiancé, she developed the story into a novel-sized manuscript.

  Rose Marie lives in Indiana, with menagerie of pets, not including her fiancé and his mother. She is currently working on the final books in her werewolf series, The Moon Series, and she encourages readers and fans to join her discussion group on Yahoo! to chat about books, writing, publishing and her upcoming releases.

  Website: www.rosemariewolf.com

  Yahoo Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/rosemariewolf

  Look for these titles by Rose Marie Wolf

  Coming Soon:

  Blood Moon

  Hunter’s Moon

  Books burned, adulterers stoned, gays attacked, government leaders and institutions controlled by a religious hierarchy, visions of a worldwide holy war—is it happening in the Middle East…or in the United States?

  Acts of the Saints

  © 2006 K.A. Schuster

  Available in ebook and paperback from Samhain Publishing

  Paragenesis is a coalition formed by ultraconservative religious leaders and their devout followers. A man known only as the Summoner, never seen in public, is its leader. As this juggernaut gains momentum, cherished rights and freedoms are swept aside, and the United States becomes a theocracy as fierce and unforgiving as any within the Islamic world.

  Two ordinary citizens—Catherine, a divorced woman, and Theodore, her alcohol-dependent former parish priest—set out to find the coalition’s secret nerve-center, the
Citadel, gathering whatever information they can by traveling the “Devil’s Railroad” from one resistance group to another. In St. Louis they meet Martin Sovalle, a bisexual man of startling beauty with whom Catherine falls in love and who disappears following a vicious vigilante attack.

  Unbeknownst to Catherine and Theo, the Summoner has in fact been luring them to his headquarters for the purpose of playing out an End Time drama he believes God has relayed to him in a series of visions. And Martin Sovalle has become his bait.

  What happens once the lives of these four people collide at the Citadel is something none of them—except perhaps the unlikely mystic, Theo—could have foreseen…

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Acts of the Saints:

  The Chevy’s odometer rolled to 150,000. Catherine was too immersed in her thoughts to notice. She broke from them only occasionally—to check her speed, to wipe the sweat from beneath her eyes, to glance at Theo and his newspaper. Just to the east the Mississippi River lazed, a dun-green serpent spangled with sunlight.

  “Beginning January First of next year, brothers and sisters, you will notice a difference in the withholding categories on your payroll checks. The Social Security tax is being phased out and the FCEA or Federal Church Enhancement Act will be phased in. It will require a ten percent tithe of each employee, based on his monthly income. This anointed act will ensure the vitality of the Church of the Living God in these United States. And the Church, in turn, will oversee the care of our indigent, regardless of age. No more—”

  Theo turned down the volume, and the disruption made Catherine look at him. “You must try to stop thinking about Marty,” he said gently.

  “I can’t. I keep seeing…” Catherine drew her lips between her teeth. She couldn’t put words to the images.

  “Well,” Theo said, patting her knee, “we both have to refocus now, redirect our energy. Marty’s in good hands. The doctor attending him was a sympathizer.”