Captured Moonlight

by Erin Kelly

  His heart sank at the thought, until another voice inside him growled at him for entertaining such an idea. He wouldn’t force anyone to do anything they didn’t want to, not like Davey. Davey was using this ability, or power, or whatever it was to manipulate these three werewolves to do his dirty work. Korban wasn’t sure how he was doing it, but he would watch closely tomorrow when they trained. He would not be the same as this yellow-eyed demon. He would find out how he was controlling the others, and then he would figure out a way to stop him from doing it. Something deep inside told him that if he was the only one who could stand up to Davey, he was the only one who could stop him once and for all.

  ~*~

  Sophie didn’t sleep that night, too many thoughts raced in her head. Part of her was terrified of what fresh nightmare her imagination would summon the moment she drifted to sleep, so instead she sat out by the fire, Korban’s shirt still clutched in her hands. Valkyrie sat with her for a while once they returned to camp, comforted her as she broke down. But there were only so many tears she could cry before her heartache turned into a hollow emptiness. She greeted the numbness like an old friend. When the pain had slowly ebbed away, what remained was nothing. And she could think when there was nothing there to cause her pain.

  She knew in her heart that the pit she’d found tonight was the one that Korban had been trapped in the night of the full moon. He’d been so close, and yet so far. Someone had set up those traps, for what purpose she wasn’t sure of, but it couldn’t be good. If only she could get her hands on whoever it was who had set the wolf pits up to begin with, she could-

  That was it. She blinked, her own thoughts interrupted by a fresh idea. She could barely contain herself again and stood up, began to pace by the fire. Val gave her a questioning look and Sophie shared her idea. “Someone set up those wolf pits. If they captured Hati in one, and Korban in another, they may have more out there. Or there may be only a couple of traps. But regardless, they will have to return to set them up again, and they’ll have to do it soon, so their scent will fade before the trap is used again. We need to double our surveillance. Let them come to us. Then we can follow them, and see where they lead us.”

  Val nodded and brightened up at her words. “That’s my girl, Sophie. Okay, then this morning we’ll start watching both pits. We’ll be as hidden as possible and stick in pairs. We’ll let these bastards come to us. They better have not hurt either one of our missing men, or they’re gonna be sorry.”

  Over breakfast that morning Val revealed their plan with Sophie, and Odin and the others seemed to approve. They broke off into pairs after deciding a patrol schedule and soon went off to their posts for the day. The little bit of scrambled egg and strip of beef jerky she’d managed to get down in her stomach sat like rocks as Sophie crouched hidden in the brush near the trap she’d uncovered last night. Geri joined her today and she was thankful the quiet, older brother was partnered with her today. She needed to keep her mind clear, her senses on high alert. If they came to reset the trap as she predicted, she would be ready.

  She listened to the quiet song of the forest and waited.

  ~*~

  Korban tried to sleep despite his growling stomach. As tempted as he was to eat what remained of his dinner he left it untouched, not entirely convinced yet that Davey wasn’t drugging their food to control them. He had his theories, but until he confirmed the truth he would be extra cautious.

  To keep his mind off his hollow belly he focused instead on the sweet memories of his time with Sophie. How many days had passed since he woke in this cell? Time moved so differently when you were trapped in nearly constant darkness and he wasn’t sure, but it had been too long since he had held her in his arms. He never knew what it meant to long for someone until now. He missed the way her soft curves fit against him, the way her skin smelled faintly of mint, the sweet taste of her lips on his. He would give everything, anything, just to have more time with her, even cramped up in that old silver Streamline. Their temporary home felt like a palace compared to this place.

  Though his thoughts lingered as long as he would let them on his Mate, his mind always returned with a fresh set of worries. Was Sophie safe now out there, searching for him? Did she find help by now? Maybe the cavalry was on its way.

  But what if she was still alone, looking for him, and she fell victim to one of Davey’s traps?

  He had to figure out how to stop Davey. If by some chance Davey was to get his claws on her… the mere thought evoked a vicious growl from Korban. He would never, ever let that monster touch Sophie. Not as long as his heart was still beating.

  His busy mind finally drifted off to a fitful sleep when the familiar metallic click of the lock on the door cracked loudly in the dark echo chamber of their prison. Instead of immediately sitting up to face his enemy, Korban fought the urge to look as the lights clicked on and the steady hum of the fluorescent bulbs filled the air. He feigned sleep as Davey walked over to their cages; his eyes opened a slight crack, silent as he watched him carefully through his thick eyelashes. Earl and Jimmy followed him in but remained silent as they stood guard by the door. “Good morning, my wolves!” Davey greeted them cheerfully, and at the sound of his voice Korban could see Blaze and Spike sit up in attention. “I hope you slept well,” he paused and smirked over at Korban, “though it looks like maybe our new friend slept a little too well.”

  His gaze doesn’t linger long on him; instead it goes to Blaze as he approached the British werewolf’s enclosure. “Good morning, Blaze. Tell me, how’s my favorite fighter doing today?”

  Korban let his eyes open a little more to observe, and he watched through carefully lidded eyes as Blaze’s hands shook and his jaw squared, but he lifted his head to meet Davey’s gaze. “Fine,” Blaze growled the word, unable to remain silent but fighting back from giving Davey the luxury of a true response.

  Davey chuckled in amusement and then walked over to Spike’s cage. “Spikey, Spikey, Spike… how about you?”

  The rotund werewolf whimpered and without being further prompted, he blurted out, “I’m good, Davey, s-sir.”

  Davey stood there, still facing away from Korban so he couldn’t see his expression, but he can hear the amusement in his voice as he jingled the key in his pocket. Perhaps his set of keys weren’t silver coated after all. “I hope you’re ready for today, big fella.”

  Spike lowered his gaze down to the ground and his lower lip trembled. Whatever hold on him Davey had, it still sent fear through the large man. Korban felt a surge of protectiveness for the other wolf as he cowered, but bit his lip to keep from opening his mouth.

  Davey walked over to Hati’s cage, out of Korban’s view so he tried to casually stretch to keep his gaze on the other wolf. Once again Davey paused in front of the pen. He is quiet for a long moment, but then he chuckled softly. “Well, you aren’t really the new guy any more, but you certainly did impress me yesterday. I bet today you’ll continue to show me what you can do. Won’t you?” He turned then and his yellow eyes fixed on him at last. “Time to wake up my newest friend so we can get started.”

  There was no need to play pretend any more. Korban stretched again and blinked open his eyes. He was careful to avoid Davey’s gaze for a moment, letting his eyes focus instead on that confident smirk that spread across his face. “Now that you’re all awake, we can start the second day of our training,” Davey rubbed his hands together eagerly. “I want to see exactly how strong you really are Korban… so it’s going to be you and me in the ring. I think it’s time you show me what you got.”

  “You don’t have to do this, Davey,” Korban tried as the werewolf pulled out the key to his cage.

  “Such a pacifist,” Davey made a disgusted face, and as the lock clicked he pulled the door open. “There’s nothing to discuss. Come out and let’s get to it. I need to see how much training you’re going to need before fight night.”

  “I don’t want to fight you, Davey,” Korban stood and took a ste
p back, not that he could really go far to avoid him. His stomach twisted into a fresh knot of anxiety. He wasn’t much of a fighter, and preferred to avoid conflict when possible. Sure, he had thrown a few punches in defense of his friends, such as the one he’d landed on the jerk bodyguard Matt who had grabbed onto Sophie during their first encounter at Howl at the Moon. But that didn’t mean he was Rocky Balboa. “Davey, please. We can talk this out.”

  Davey’s amused light in his eyes flashed to one of anger. It was like hitting a light switch, and he moved faster than any normal man could- or should. If Korban wasn’t a werewolf he was certain the breeze he dodged- where Davey’s fist struck past him- would have knocked him hard across the floor. “I don’t have to do anything. I want to, Korban. I want to fight you. And you’ll fight me, or you’ll be beaten to a pulp.” Davey growled, then stepped back from the doorway and gestured with his hand. “Come out Korban. Neither one of us needs silver burns to add injury to insult.”

  Davey stepped back again, his yellow eyes narrowed and focused intently on Korban. He felt his skin begin to crawl under that gaze, and knew that Davey would fight him, regardless of whether he was in the silver-coated cage or not. Better to avoid the extra damage if he could, though he is cautious as he stepped out into the open space. He felt the eyes of the other werewolves from the cages that circled him. “Please Davey,” he held up his hands. “I’m not a fighter.”

  “All men are fighters, deep down,” Davey licked his lips, eagerness reflected over his anger. “It’s what we crave as human beings. Not the wolf, though the wolf side can be just as bloodthirsty at times. Just not as brutal as we are as men.”

  Davey suddenly stepped forward and swung his fist. Korban narrowly dodged the strike, but then Davey launched another violent punch, followed rapidly by another, and another. Korban quickly stepped backward, his hands raised up defensively to stop his blows, though he avoided them so far he knew his luck would run out. His heart and mind raced for a solution, but unfortunately Davey’s words were right. In the end, words wouldn’t reach this man. Not the way violence would. Still, he would try his best to show him another way.

  Davey’s fist soared towards his jaw in an uppercut, but Korban twisted out of the way, his eyes narrowed as he suddenly moved his hand and caught his fist with it. A surge of power coursed through his knuckles and up his arm, and as he gripped Davey’s curled hand his knuckles turned white. Davey moved fast, his free hand launched toward his stomach. Korban’s hand isn’t fast enough to block the blow, and his fist connected. The wind is knocked from him and Korban curled forward with a loud gasp. His head jerked upward as he gasped for air and his eyes locked with Davey’s, amusement and triumph reflected in those bright yellow orbs.

  This close his eyes were as vibrant as the sun, and once again his skin crawled, as if thousands of ants marched over his flesh. A dizzy sensation jolted through him, maybe from the lack of oxygen. He gasped like a fish on land. There was an odd feeling of weightlessness that only seemed to grow as he gripped Davey’s fists and their gaze remained locked. Davey’s eyes seemed to glow brighter, as a victorious laugh escaped him and filled the air, only it is cut short, a look of confusion that mirrored his own filling those wolf-like eyes.

  The strange sensation of detachment only intensified, and the next thing Korban knew he found himself floating, lost in a spiral of bright yellow light. He closed his eyes and embraced the darkness he knew would come.

  The strange out-of-body-like experience only seemed to continue even when a quiet darkness took hold. Was he dead? Had Davey killed him somehow? Korban felt disoriented, the darkness rippled around him like waves. His stomach hurt, but maybe it was still sore from being punched. The odd feeling of gravity leaving him didn’t help much with the nausea.

  Images began to flash before his eyes as he stood there, caught in a moment of time that seemed to span forever. It reminded him at first of the same way his wolf saw the full moon night. Only these images, first blurry and hazy like from an old movie projector, soon came into focus and played before him like a clip show, except he felt like a shadow on the wall, a silent witness to the scenes that played before him as each one grew into focus then beyond high definition.

  First came a faded moment that felt vintage as it came into focus on two lanky little boys he’d never seen before. There was something familiar about the mop of brown hair on the smaller boy, and the way he smiled as he stared down at a deer that was limping down at the bottom of a pit trap. “Stay back from there, you don’t wanna fall down into that,” the older boy cautioned as he walked over and slid the long rifle off his shoulder. “If you go breaking a leg I’ll get in trouble and I don’t want Dad mad at me again because of you.”

  “What is it?” The younger boy asked as he took a step back.

  The older boy rolled his eyes. “It’s a wolf pit.”

  “A wolf pit? But a deer is in it.”

  Exasperated, the older boy grunted as he loaded the gun. “Duh, it’s a deer. It’s just what it’s called. It’s used to help us hunt things.”

  The boy thought about that and tilted his head. “Has Dad ever caught a real wolf in it?”

  “There aren’t wolves around here. Not anymore.” The older boy aimed the rifle and shot the deer. “Come on; help me get it out of there so we can clean it.” The scene faded as the taller boy ushered him away from the pit and toward where they parked their ATVs.

  The darkness swallowed him again, and he floated through another scene. This time the pair of boys were older, taller and standing together silently, both wearing black as a coffin was lowered into the ground in front of them. They didn’t have suits but instead wore faded black jeans. The smaller boy wore a black t-shirt inside out, and stared blankly with almost a bored look as the coffin sank into the ground. The older boy beside him fought back tears and squeezed his hand. The image was still grainy, like this was from a while ago, but this time the images came with the faint smell of rain and freshly dug dirt.

  As the coffin is lowered, the image is split and he can smell cheap liquor and cigarette smoke in the air. While the funeral continued on in the one faded panel, a new scene came to light in the next. A thin woman with blue eyes and light brown hair that was prematurely greying sat on the edge of the younger boy’s bed with a book in her hands. She was reading a story to him and the pale, skinny boy was listening raptly. There was a smell beneath the alcohol and tobacco that Korban was familiar with and it turned his stomach. Sickness. The boy, or the woman, or both were extremely ill. “Some tribes believed that by consuming the flesh of their enemies, they would gain their strength,” she read to him as she puffed on a thin cigarette.

  She paused and took a long drag, and the boy asked softy, “Is that true, Mom?”

  “What?” she coughed and sputtered.

  “If you eat someone you beat in battle, do you get stronger?” The thin boy asked.

  “I dunno, Davey,” the woman shrugged as she managed to get her smoker’s cough under control. “I ain’t never ate any of my enemies so I wouldn’t know. But stranger things have happened I suppose. History is kinda weird like that.”

  The boy coughed and looked at the book. “Read it again?”

  I will never be weaker than my enemies. An intense look filled Davey’s blue eyes as he watched them bury his mother. I will never be weak again.

  The smells and light faded and he is lost to the shadows again. Years pass by in flickering moments, moving faster and faster. He is dizzy with all of the pictures that grow in intensity as they rushed past. Davey was growing up. The older boy, Earl, grew up too. He taught his brother to hunt and use the wolf pits to trap animals, and more importantly how to get the animals out. The images slowed down when one day Davey discovered not a deer or animal in one of his traps, but a hunter. The man was drunk and lost, and had broken his arm in the fall. He was in a foul mood and swore at Davey when he approached. “You sonuvabitch! Get me outta here!” The man slurred, and whe
n Davey got the rope and pulled him up the man punched him across the jaw.

  Davey stumbled, but regained his balance quickly and a slow smile spread across his face as he licked his own blood from the corner of his mouth. He lunged for the man and began to fight him. He put up an admirable struggle, but in the end the drunken hunter ended up swinging hard for Davey and lost his balance. He fell back down into the wolf pit with a sickening crunch.

  Davey tilted his head curiously, went over to the edge of the pit and looked down. The man laid dead, his head bent at a wrong angle. “I defeat my enemy… and devour the soul of a warrior,” he said very softly as his smile widened.

  The darkness twisted around him again, like thick plumes of smoke. More images flashed by, more unlucky souls who found themselves lost in the Adirondacks and into one of Davey’s wolf pits. He learned how to hide them better, and learned how to bring them back. Lost hikers and hunters who were unfortunate enough to fall into one of his pits ended up as pawns in his game.

  Whatever was happening now, it was happening faster. The images blurred again, and the darkness swallowed Korban.

  Just as suddenly Korban found himself no longer in darkness, but in the crisp, clean mountain air of the forest once more. The sky is clear and the sun streamed down around him. He felt the warmth of the rays of light as they poured down from the green canopy of leaves above him. He smelled the fragrant pine and leaves, the musk of the animals that scurried through the trees and brush. Yet when he held up his hand he could see the ground through his skin, muscle, and bone. That sinking feeling filled him again. Did Davey finish him off, and this was what it was like to die? It would explain the strange out of body experience he seemed to be having, and the bright light. But weren’t you supposed to see your own life flash before your eyes, not someone else’s? He couldn’t be dead! There was still so much he had to do in his life! He had to help the others escape Davey, and he had to see Sophie again!