Hunter's Moon

Home > Other > Hunter's Moon > Page 7
Hunter's Moon Page 7

by Loribelle Hunt


  “He’s right. This is my choice.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Declan slip in. Great. She could deal with both uncles at once.

  “Why didn’t you kill him last night?” he demanded of Anthony.

  “There were unanswered questions.”

  “Dad claims he didn’t kill Mom.” She realized with the slip of the honorific she’d decided she did believe him. Julian looked stunned. Whether at the revelation or her belief in his innocence she couldn’t say.

  “That’s crazy. He’s just trying to save his own skin.”

  “And you’re just trying to avenge your sister’s death,” Declan said quietly.

  Julian spun around to confront him. “You, of course, bought every word of it, didn’t you?”

  The werewolf shrugged. “I never believed he did it. You know that.”

  “Then why did he escape? Tonight and sixteen years ago. He abandoned his daughter. His brother. His pack.”

  Every were in the room was uncomfortable with the question. The tension level shot through the room.

  Carlos was the one who answered, and she wondered at the pain she heard in his voice. “It’s a kind of madness to lose your mate. Your mind is never right again. Most weres, no matter their species, don’t survive it.”

  “Another bond can be created,” Sunny offered. “We know of cases where that’s happened.” She was referring to a couple in the Appalachian pack. The woman had been mated to someone else. When he died, another wolf claimed her.

  “That was not a true mating,” Carlos said. “To lose a true mate is the closest you can get to death yet still live.”

  Julian considered that. “Maybe. But that doesn’t excuse his running. Leaving his child.”

  She wished he’d quit harping on that. Yeah, it’d been painful. A pain she’d forced herself to live with for years. But she’d been sixteen, old enough to fend for herself with an uncle who loved her to help.

  “No, it doesn’t excuse anything. But it’s in the past, and we can’t change it.” She held up her hand to forestall the next complaint. “And no, it doesn’t prove his innocence. Maybe we can satisfy your questions to that when we catch up with him.”

  “He’s slick,” he said bitterly. “You think I didn’t try to track him?”

  “We’ll find him, Julian. We’ll find your answers,” Anthony said.

  Chapter Eight

  They tracked him for a week before deciding to regroup. Gia stared at the large map pinned to the wall, the thumbtacks stuck in it. They marked every reported sighting of Arthur, but by the time they got a hunter into position, he’d be long gone.

  Ellen rushed into the room, face flushed, almost shoving Gia out of her way. She had a roll of twine in her hand. “Got an idea,” she said in response to Gia’s startled look.

  Anthony was still lounging in his chair behind his desk, and the other weres had followed Ellen in. Clint caught her gaze and shrugged. He didn’t know what Ellen was thinking either.

  “It looks random, right?” Ellen asked while unraveling the twine. She wrapped it under the base of the first tack, representing where they stood now. But instead of going to each tack in order, she stretched it out in an almost straight line. She stood back and grinned. “He’s trying to make it look like he’s moving randomly, but he has a purpose.”

  Gia frowned at the map. It did look like that, but why all the subterfuge? Unless he knew someone else was following him. “Where’s he going?”

  Anthony had come from his desk to stand before her. Declan, Asa, and Clint all edged forward to get a better look. “Shit,” Declan muttered.

  “Yeah,” Clint agreed.

  “What?”

  Ellen took pity on her. “If he sticks to this pattern, he’ll end up in Miami. We’re pretty sure that’s where the Society is headquartered.” The Society was made up of rogue wolves, those who’d turned their backs on the rules all weres followed and who looked at humans as prey.

  “He won’t get in there alone,” Clint said, and she remembered a rumor she’d heard long ago, that he had once infiltrated the Society.

  “We have to go after him. We can’t let him walk into that alone.” Fear was a foul taste in her mouth. She’d just found her dad. She didn’t want to lose him again so quickly.

  “No,” Declan and Asa said together.

  She turned to protest, and Anthony pressed against her back, wrapping one strong arm across the front of her shoulders. She leaned into the embrace, into his heat and strength.

  Declan smiled at her. “Don’t worry, Gia. He won’t be left to fend for himself. But we aren’t letting any mated wolf go on this mission. It’s too dangerous.”

  She knew there was no way in hell she would win this argument, but she was contrary by nature enough to try. Declan shook his head at her, his smile rueful now. “Don’t even try it. Asa and I will go. We know a couple others that might want to tag along.”

  “Hey, don’t I get a say in this?” Asa mock complained.

  “Nope. I’m bigger and meaner, and I say you’re going,” Declan jabbed back. She’d become so used to their bantering insults she laughed reflexively.

  “Okay. Okay. I get that I’m overruled. Just…keep me posted.”

  “I will.” He indicated Anthony with a jerk of his chin. “Keep an eye on him. He’s trouble.”

  Anthony growled. A week ago she might have started, but she knew him well enough now to know there was no menace in the growl. Declan and Asa hurried from the room to prepare for their trip. They were leaving as soon as they packed.

  Hours later she lay in the dark next to Anthony unable to sleep. There was a very good chance her father wouldn’t survive his hunt and that Asa and Declan wouldn’t survive their rescue mission. She felt bad for putting them in danger, even knowing it was their job, but she was happy she didn’t have to risk Anthony. He’d become too important to lose over the past few days. No, scratch that. Over the past few months.

  “You’re thinking too much.” He’d been asleep, and his voice was that sexy drowsiness that made her crazy with want. “I can feel your worry.”

  The strength of the bond had scared her at first. It didn’t leave her much privacy. He always knew if she was sad or happy, content or angry. Horny. He rolled over on top of her, his thick cock sliding into her. He thrust slowly, shallowly. Took his time. Comforting more than anything else at first.

  “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “We live in a screwed up world.”

  “We do,” he said and waited for her to go on.

  “I hate sending friends into danger.”

  “Sometimes it’s unavoidable.”

  She met his gaze, and her heart rate accelerated. So much love in those icy blue eyes. She didn’t want that look to ever fade. And she knew that she wasn’t being fair. He told her he loved her all the time, but she’d withheld the words. Denied him the knowledge. Just say it, Gia. It’ll be easier next time.

  He watched her expectantly.

  “I love you,” she blurted out.

  He looked surprised for a moment, but then he smiled and leaned down to kiss her. It was a long, slow, soul-consuming kiss. His cock thrust deeper, adding speed to his rhythm. Slowly increasing her pleasure, cautiously pushing her towards orgasm.

  He tore his mouth from hers, kissing a trail across her face, down to her neck.

  “I know, baby,” he whispered in her ear. “I feel it every time you look at me. Every time you touch me. Every time you come for me.”

  He hit the perfect sweet spot on her neck, kissing his mark, lightly biting it. “I love you too,” he went on in a whisper. Then continued to show her the ways.

  Author Bio

  Loribelle is like the South she calls home. Hot and sultry. Languid and sexy. Magnolias and gardenias scent her silk-lined boudoir, and men and children alike bow to her magnificence…

  Okay, maybe it isn’t quite that glamorous. She does have two smart and lovely daughters who give her a run for her
money and a son that will one day be someone’s model of a romance hero. (She promises.) Her husband is a real-life hero, and Loribelle just tries to keep up with the demands of military life. In between, she writes a book or two.

  She’s had every job under the sun, but haven’t most writers? That Army military police, bookstore manager, waitress, wedding photographer, website designer experience has to come in useful sometimes. As they say in the South, it all washes out in the end.

  She loves hearing from her readers and can be found at http://www.loribellehunt.com.

 

 

 


‹ Prev