Child of the Moon

Home > Paranormal > Child of the Moon > Page 12
Child of the Moon Page 12

by V. J. Chambers

So, she plastered a smile on her face. “Sullivan Foundation? That’s the people who deal with werewolves, right? Why would you want to talk to me?”

  “Are you Carrie Beckett?”

  “Yes.” She was still smiling.

  “Well, someone has reported suspicions that you’re a werewolf, and that you’ve passed on the lupine virus to Holden Rane, who happens to be missing right now. Do you know where Holden Rane is?”

  “Holden? No, I haven’t seen him since school,” said Carrie.

  “Could we come in, ma’am?”

  Again, she wanted to scream at them that they couldn’t, definitely not, but she knew she had to play it cooler than that. Odds were these people were just investigating. She knew that the SF sent trackers after wolves that killed people. When a wolf kill scene was found, then the SF would track the wolf and put a tranq dart in it, and forcibly take it away. But these people weren’t here to do that. They were here to ask questions.

  She opened the door wider. “Come on in.”

  The two SF workers trooped inside.

  “It’s a little late for visitors,” she said. “But how about we go to the den?” She didn’t want to go to the living room. What if they would somehow sense or smell or know that her parents had been killed there? No, the den was definitely better.

  They followed her to the den.

  She had them take seats, and she sat down opposite them. She was still smiling, and she worried that her smile looked fake. How did she usually smile? Was it like this? She wasn’t sure.

  She took a deep breath. When she did, she remembered her confidence—her fearlessness. She remembered that wolf had taught her how to be self-assured and comfortable. And with her next breath, she breathed out all her nerves and filled herself only with her wolf’s bravery.

  Now her smile came easily and naturally. “So, this is about Holden Rane, is it?”

  “That’s right, ma’am. He’s been behaving strangely. There’s concern he’s a werewolf.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t know about that.” She crossed her legs. “But I have to say I’m confused. Why would you think I had anything to do with that?”

  “Isn’t Holden Rane your boyfriend?”

  Carrie laughed. It bubbled out of her, free and easy. “Boyfriend? Oh, that’s a word you don’t say around Holden Rane. He can’t stand any thought of commitment. No, I’m not the girl who inspired Holden to settle down. I’m afraid it was just business as usual with me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, you know that kind of boy. He’s charming and sweet, but he’s only after one thing, and once he gets it, well, you might as well be invisible. He’s on to his next conquest. Holden and I did have… a connection. A brief connection. But he’s long moved on by now. Not the least bit interested in little old me.”

  “You seem pretty broken up about it,” noted the female SF worker wryly.

  Carrie shrugged. “I knew what kind of boy he was when I got involved.” She leaned forward. “Honestly, don’t you think it’s sexist that everyone assumes all women fall madly in love with every man they have the slightest physical interaction with?”

  The female SF worker arched an eyebrow.

  Carrie lowered her voice conspiratorially. “When I say brief, I mean it literally, if you know what I mean?”

  The male SF worker snickered.

  The female glared at him.

  Carrie pretended to be embarrassed. “I’m sure he’s a very nice boy, but I just wasn’t, well, interested in anything else.”

  The male SF worker nodded. “We understand, ma’am. So, you haven’t seen him?”

  “Oh, no, not in quite a while.”

  “And you have no idea where he could be?”

  “No.” She shook her head.

  “Well, all right, then.” The male SF worker started to stand up.

  Carrie’s heart leapt. They were going to leave? Great.

  But then the female cleared her throat.

  “What?” said the male.

  “There’s the business about her parents,” said the female.

  Jesus, they knew about that too? Carrie smiled again. “I’m afraid my parents are out of town. They’re working on the estate of a late relative. She unfortunately lived in a very remote area, and it’s difficult to get in touch with them.”

  “Oh, is it?” The female looked suspicious now.

  Damn it.

  “Is it true,” said the female, “that no one has been in contact with your parents since the last full moon?”

  “Of course not,” Carrie said. “I’ve spoken to them quite a few times. But I have to wait until they call me. They have to drive nearly half an hour to get a cell phone signal.”

  “Anyone besides you.”

  “I have.”

  All three of them turned to see that Mick was standing in the doorway to the den. He smiled at the SF agents.

  “Hi there,” said Mick. “I’m Carrie’s uncle. I’ve been looking after her while her parents are gone.”

  The workers looked surprised. They apparently hadn’t expected to see Mick here.

  “Well, hello there,” said the male SF worker.

  “What’s this about her parents?” Mick asked.

  “We’re just verifying that they’re not…”

  “Not what?” said Mick.

  “Well, uh…” The female worker seemed flustered. “Dead, I suppose. There was some speculation that—”

  “They’re not dead.” Mick laughed a big, booming laugh. “No. Great-Aunt Agatha is dead, but Christopher and Jennifer are just fine. Why would you be concerned about that?”

  The two workers exchanged a glance.

  “You have to understand,” said the male, “that we have to investigate every single tip that we receive. Werewolves are serious business. They kill people.”

  “Werewolves?” said Mick.

  “That’s right, Uncle Mick,” said Carrie, smiling at him. “These folks are from the SF.”

  The male worker held up his hands. “We’re just doing our job, that’s all.”

  “But,” said the female, “this seems like it might be a case of overactive imagination on the part of the sister. We’ll get out of your hair.”

  Carrie and Mick both smiled.

  The workers got up.

  Carrie escorted them out of the den and began to take them back to the door.

  But the male worker suddenly stopped. He turned his head, sniffing down the hallway.

  Carrie shot Mick an alarmed look.

  “Can I… help you?” said Mick.

  “I smell him,” said the male worker.

  “We track,” said the female, by way of explanation, “and when someone’s missing, we’ll often get their scent, which we did.”

  “Well, you would smell him,” said Carrie. “He’s been here before. Like I said, we had a connection.”

  But the male worker was going down the hallway.

  Carrie and Mick darted after him.

  He stopped in the kitchen, surveying the broken glass and the strips of clothing lying all over the floor. “What happened here?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Mick massaged the bridge of his nose, flustered. “Well, you see…”

  “We’re working on a craft,” said Carrie.

  The female officer raised her eyebrows. “A craft?”

  Mick pulled his shirt over his head. “Oh, fuck it.” And then he shifted, the wolf flowing over his body with ease, like a rippling wave.

  The SF agents were stunned. The male agent’s mouth was wide open, his jaw seemingly unhinged.

  The female shook her head. “But… how did you…?”

  “No one can shift on demand like that,” sputtered the male.

  “Obviously, he can,” said the female.

  Mick-the-wolf growled at two of them, baring his teeth.

  “This is bullshit,” said the man. “They send us out here against wolves that can shift at will and they expect
us to do something about it? We don’t get paid—”

  Mick leapt onto the man, sunk teeth into his throat.

  Blood sprayed over the kitchen.

  The female agent let out a mewling noise. She staggered backwards, fumbling for her gun.

  Carrie moved without thinking. She tackled the woman.

  The gun went flying out of her hands.

  The woman elbowed Carrie in the teeth.

  Carrie let go of her with a cry of surprise and pain.

  Mick looked up from the body of the male agent, his muzzle stained red. His wolf eyes locked with Carrie’s.

  And she felt the change coming over her, the wolf forcing its way out of her body. She struggled to pull her clothes off in time as it rushed to the surface, fur and teeth and claws and—

  She howled.

  The female agent swore, reaching for her gun.

  Carrie jumped, sailing into the air. She could smell the agent’s fear, and it excited her. It spoke to the predator within her, made her salivate.

  She landed on top of the female agent. They collided with the cabinets under the sink.

  The woman’s eyes were wide and frightened.

  Carrie sniffed her. The scent was delicious. She howled again, caught up in the ecstasy of feeding.

  And then her teeth were in the flesh of the female.

  And then…

  Everything was fractured—moments of pure bliss. The taste of meat, the juices dripping, the blood on her tongue, her teeth tearing, the female screaming (and then going silent), then swallowing, lapping, chewing…

  She was lost in it, drowning in the red joy of it, the crimson satisfaction.

  And then, suddenly, she was shifting back.

  She came to herself on the linoleum. She was covered in blood. She could still taste it. The body of the female agent was splayed in front of her. Her stomach had been ripped open, and her organs were spilling out over the floor. Some of them were half-eaten.

  Carrie turned her head to one side and tried to vomit.

  She heaved and heaved.

  Nothing came out.

  Behind her, Mick snorted.

  She turned to look at him.

  He was wiping the blood off his face and chest with a towel. He tossed it to her. “No more arguments. We’re leaving.”

  * * *

  Holden heard screams and growls coming from downstairs. Even though Carrie had told him to stay in her room, he eased his way out into the hallway.

  The sounds got louder. What was going on down there?

  He started down the stairs, one at a time, slowly stepping down, his back against the wall.

  But then Carrie darted out of the kitchen and ran for the steps. She bounded up them, pushing him up after her. “We’re leaving,” she said.

  Holden flailed, trying to keep his balance as he scrambled up the stairs backwards. “Leaving? What are you talking about?”

  “Your stupid sister called the SF,” said Carrie, pushing past him and into her room.

  He followed her. “Well, the SF is a good thing, right?”

  “No,” she said. “They’re not.”

  “Why not?”

  “They want to train our wolfness right out of us. They want to hurt us.”

  Holden was confused.

  Carrie slammed an open bag on the bed and began shoving clothes into it. “We have to go now. We have to be far away from here before the SF finds out what we did to the people they sent here.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that. “What did you do?”

  She didn’t answer.

  He stepped closer, touching her face. “Is that blood?”

  She looked up. “We were protecting you.”

  He swallowed.

  “Anyway,” she said, “I’m sorry you can’t pack your things, but we don’t have time. We need to go now.” She zipped up her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

  “Me?” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “What do you mean? Of course you are. You can’t stay here.”

  “Why can’t I?”

  “Because you’re a werewolf, that’s why. Don’t be an idiot. If you don’t have Mick around, you’ll shift and kill people tomorrow.” She pulled open her door and went out into the hallway.

  Holden went after her. “What’s Mick got to do with anything?”

  She was going down the steps. “He’s your alpha. He’s my alpha too. He can control our shifts. If you’re away from him, then you won’t be able to stop yourself. So, you have to come along.”

  Mick appeared at the bottom of the steps. “Actually, I can keep him from shifting from a distance.” He eyed Holden with distaste. “The boy doesn’t need to come along.”

  Holden was standing at the top of the stairs. He looked down at the both of them. He was so confused at this moment, and he had no idea what was going on.

  “You can stay here,” said Mick. “I’ll keep you from shifting. Don’t worry.”

  Holden began to slowly descend the steps. “Oh. Well, then, good. So, I can go home now?”

  “Yes,” said Mick, smiling. “Do that. Go home.”

  Carrie shook her head. “No, because the SF is going to come back, and they’re going to find out that their people are dead, and they’re going to blame Holden. They’ll take him away.”

  Mick shrugged. “They’ll think he had no control of himself. They won’t think he did it of his own free will.”

  “But you said that the SF was a bad thing,” said Carrie.

  “For us, yes,” said Mick. “For Holden…” He shrugged again.

  “Wait,” said Holden. “Why is there a difference?” He knew that Mick wasn’t too fond of him, and so he wasn’t sure that he trusted what Mick said.

  “There isn’t a difference,” said Carrie. She glared at Mick. “You’re only saying that because you don’t like him.”

  Mick didn’t deny it. He smirked at Holden.

  “He’s coming,” said Carrie. “If he doesn’t, he’ll be in danger.”

  Holden looked from one of them to the other. He wasn’t sure if it was true that he was in danger, but he trusted Carrie more than he trusted Holden.

  “I’m leaving, Holden,” said Carrie. “Don’t you want to be with me?”

  He looked into her eyes, and he remembered what it was like to kiss her, to feel her body wrapped around him. He swallowed. “I do want that.”

  Mick grimaced.

  “He’s coming with us,” said Carrie.

  Mick started to speak.

  “No,” Carrie interrupted him. “Holden is coming along.”

  * * *

  “Where are you?” said the voice of Mick’s Aunt Calla on the phone. “I’ve been waiting for you to get in touch for weeks.”

  “Sorry,” Mick said, clutching his phone and pacing. “It’s not important. The important thing is that I’m coming home.” He had learned a long time ago that when it came to his Aunt Calla, it was better to do what she said.

  Calla was married to Ryder, who was Mick’s father’s brother. Though she wasn’t blood related to Mick, she had been a mother to him in his adolescence. Mick’s real mother had never quite seemed to care about him as much as she cared about herself. At least that was the way Mick felt. Calla, on the other hand, was sweetness personified. However, that didn’t mean that she wasn’t stern. She and her husband Ryder were the default heads of the carnival, even though Ryder and all four of his brothers had equal share ownership of it.

  Calla knew what she wanted, and she wasn’t shy about making sure that she got it. She hadn’t been happy when Mick had decided to become an alpha to Carrie in the first place. Mick wasn’t sure that she would be pleased about this turn of events.

  “Oh, you are? Well, that’s good. We’ve been having to get other people to do your job.”

  “I really am sorry.”

  “You stayed with the girl, didn’t you?”

  “She’s my pack, Calla,” he said.


  “Mick, that’s ridiculous. You don’t have a mate. You’re not an alpha. You can’t have a pack. Whatever you have now, it’s unnatural.”

  He sighed. He should have expected this. The wolves at the carnival didn’t take kindly to anything happening differently than the way it would in a traditional pack. He and Carrie weren’t blood, so traditionally they wouldn’t have been joined. “Listen, you know what I had to do for this girl. She didn’t have anyone besides me. Without an alpha, she would’ve been lost.”

  “You and I both know that you are not a suitable alpha for that girl.” Calla’s voice was disapproving.

  “Well, whatever the case, she’s mine,” he said. “And that’s not all. There’s a boy.”

  “A boy?”

  “He accidentally got turned. If I hadn’t become his alpha, he would’ve run wild and hurt people.”

  “So, you’re saying you now have two unnatural betas? Mick, this is a disaster.”

  “I know.” He hung his head, even though she couldn’t see him. He wasn’t quite sure how everything had gotten so off kilter. He had to admit that he wasn’t at all pleased with the addition of Holden to the pack. He felt the alpha bonds to the boy, but they were essentially drowned out by his… his hatred of Holden. Sometimes he felt a little out of—but no. He was fine. Everything was fine.

  “What do you mean, anyway, he accidentally got turned?”

  Mick sunk his top teeth into his bottom lip. “Well, he caught it from the girl.”

  “Did the girl bite him?”

  Mick didn’t answer. He tried to figure out how to formulate an explanation.

  “Is there something between the girl and the boy? Are they involved?”

  Mick supposed that they were. But he didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t like the idea of it. It wasn’t what he wanted for Carrie.

  “Well, she’s nearly grown, isn’t she?” Calla’s voice was soft. The two of them are a bit young to mate, but it would be more natural for them to do so than for you to keep both of them in a pack together. Members shouldn’t be fooling around with each other. They should be brothers and sisters.”

  She was right. That was the way things would be if a pack happened naturally.

  “It’s not right,” Calla said. “You shouldn’t put two pack members together if they have romantic feelings.”

  He pressed his lips together. “You’re not seriously suggesting that I have them mate with each other, are you? They’re barely eighteen years old. If they mated, they’d become alphas, and they aren’t ready for that.”

 

‹ Prev