Hunter's Moon (The Witch Who Sang with Wolves Book 1)

by Kat Bostick

  “No!” she said a little too insistently. “You must be Charlie.” She extended a hand when he marched down the stairs but retracted it soon after, unsure if that was customary for werewolves. Then she noticed how dirty and scabby her hands were and shoved them in her pockets.

  “And you must be the witch.”

  “Mari.” She nodded briskly, trying to match his level tone.

  “Mari?” Charlie asked flatly. “Mari who?”

  “Mariella Sowka.”

  Blue eyes drilled into her, irises so frosty that she shivered. Any uncertainty over his status as alpha was gone with that gouging look. An aura of wildness gathered in the air around him, making it pulse with intensity. With hands tucked behind his back, Charlie paced slowly around her and Jasper, a prowling wolf searching for the weakest point in his prey. Trepidation sent tremors through Mari’s legs and she had to lock her knees to keep them steady.

  There was precision in every step he took and calculation in his gaze. When he finally positioned himself in front of them and leveled his eyes on Mari, she was certain those penetrating ice crystals could see all the way to her soul.

  “What do you think, Cash? She certainly smells potent. Is she an immediate risk?” Cash bounded down the steps at the sound of his name, thankfully fully clothed now.

  “I smell potent?” Mari’s question went unanswered.

  “Nah, she didn’t try anything when Deak came up on her.” Cash shrugged. “I could probably snap her neck before she casts anyway.”

  Mari barely caught the muttered threat but Jasper heard it clearly and he was not happy about it. Red fur bristled along his spine in waves. He turned on Cash with a snarl so fierce that it raised her already pounding heart to a point she was sure would cause a heart attack.

  “What’s in the bag, Mari?” Charlie dismissed Jasper as if he were a twittering bird.

  “Just my most valued possessions.” Mari fidgeted with the pack. She hadn’t noticed Cash moving in until he tugged the strap from her arm and yanked it away. “Hey!”

  Cash ignored her protest and Jasper’s continued snarling. He unzipped every pocket, tipped the bag upside down, and shook aggressively. Mari’s wallet, research notebook, last clean pairs of underwear, and a collection of other personal items fell into the damp grass. The clunky family legacy came last, lodged at the very bottom of the pack and wrapped safely in a sweater. It came loose and landed face down. Mari flinched when the pages crinkled under the weight of the cover. She dove for the book but Cash was faster, snatching it up and easily holding it out of her reach.

  “What are you doing? You can’t just go through my things!” She dove for the book again but Jasper cut her off, corralling her back to where she stood previously. Charlie watched the struggle with a reticent expression. His indifference was infuriating. He had no right to let Cash search her bag but if he was going to, he could at least do her the courtesy of looking sorry. Or interested.

  “What is it?” Cash asked, thumbing carelessly through the pages.

  “Please, please, please be careful!” Mari begged.

  “I think it’s a spell book, boss.”

  “There are only a handful of spells. It’s mostly family history. You have no right to touch it!” All the fear that clung to Mari since she made it over the wall evaporated in the heat of her rage. She gave up so much to come here and this was how they treated her? How they treated the only material possession she had left that truly mattered?

  Cash huffed his disinterest and slammed the book shut, creasing more pages as he did. “Like I said, spell book.”

  “Give it back.” She annunciated each word through gritted teeth. A zing of magic rode her voice, bolting through the air like electricity. Mari had no idea she could use magic with simple words and not song. The wolves must have felt it too because all three looked at her in sudden alarm. Then a bright yellow dandelion burst from the earth between Cash’s feet.

  He howled with laughter. “Cool trick. Is this a spell book for the home gardener? Do you moonlight at Home Depot?”

  “That was just the warm up.” She barked. “Next time it’ll be a sapling. Bet you won’t be laughing when you have a tree growing two feet up your ass!”

  Scrupulous, Mari! What happened to scrupulous?

  Cash laughed louder. Jasper gave another shepherding shove but when he glanced her way there was something akin to pride on his features.

  Mari let Jasper move her but didn’t cease her seething remarks. “What is wrong with you people? What did you think you were going to find? A rifle loaded with silver bullets? I’m not after your lucky charms, assholes!” Now that she’d let the first breath of anger out, she couldn’t shut her dumb mouth.

  “Lucky charms?” Charlie’s face finally shifted to make him look like a real person. His bemusement felt patronizing, only making Mari angrier.

  “It’s a cereal, Pa. With a leprechaun on the box. I think she’s making fun of you.” Cash explained, annoying grin still pulling at his plump lips.

  “No, I’m not making fun of you because I don’t have any energy left for fun!” She threw her hands up. “This summer I have been fired, my house was burned down, and I’ve made enemies with a witch who has enough power to curse werewolves and enchant items. Oh and did I mention wizards from said witch’s coven kidnapped and imprisoned Jasper with the aforementioned enchanted items for Gods only know what purpose? I had to freakin’ shoot one of them, which was not something on my bucket list, by the way. On top of that, I spent the last two stupid weeks driving hundreds of stupid miles looking for your stupid hairy asses so someone could do something to help Jasper.

  “Maybe I was wrong to bring him here because you don’t seem all that helpful. Actually, you’re pretty damn rude! I get that your kind doesn’t like witches but up until about five minutes ago, the feeling wasn’t mutual.”

  Jasper thumped his head into her chest, desperate to quiet her. “Hey, I’m sorry for not being more pleasant but it’s not like they’re all that courteous.” Even as the gripe left her mouth, she felt guilty. This was his pack, the family he’d been searching for the entire year he was missing. There was no need to behave like querulous child when they were being reasonably cautious. And she was supposed to be exercising caution herself, not provoking the alpha.

  “Fine! I’m sorry.” She pushed Jasper’s snout away and met Charlie’s eyes. “I mean you no harm. And for the record, I probably couldn’t harm you anyway. Unless you’re allergic to dandelions.” Mari glowered at the offending flower. “I’m not here to cause trouble. I only want to help Jasper.”

  Charlie and Cash both watched her with unsettling concentration. Only after she finished her halfhearted apology did she notice both men were struggling to stifle even more laughter. Mari knew she wasn’t all that threatening to them in the first place but the amusement they were gaining from the situation made her feel like a fly buzzing about their heads.

  “That’s enough, Cash. I don’t think the book is going to make her any more powerful than she already is. Why don’t you clean up Mari’s belongings and meet us in the study?” Charlie gave Cash a brief nod.

  Cash handed the legacy over to Mari. She jerked it out of his hands and flipped through to flatten the crinkled pages. “It’s wet.”

  Charlie smiled generously and offered Mari his hand. That smile completely changed his face. He went from looking cold and withdrawn to exuberant and welcoming. Charlie wasn’t a handsome man but there was a quaint, fatherly charm to him. That didn’t stop her from eagerly shaking his hand with the intention of rubbing mud all over him but hey, she was feeling particularly petty this morning. They didn’t have to trust her but that didn’t mean they had to dump her stuff out like a TSA agent either.

  “It’s very interesting to meet you, Mariella Sowka. I’m Charlie Dunne, alpha of the Humble Springs pack.” He released her hand and fixed Jasper with the twin of Cash’s impish grin. “Come here you feral bastard.”

 
Charlie greeted Jasper as enthusiastically as the others. There was yipping and growling—some of it coming from Charlie, which was totally bizarre—and tumbling in the grass. Mari quickly realized that it hadn’t insulted the alpha to touch her muddy hands since the back of his blue shirt was now damp and stained.

  “Damn glad to see you, runaway. Join me in the study and we’ll get you some hot coffee.” With that he turned his back on them and trotted inside.

  Mari nervously followed Jasper through the front door. The house was even more magnificent on the inside. The foyer alone was the size of Mari’s living room and kitchen combined. Overhead, a sparkling chandelier hung from the high ceiling. Intricate carvings of flowers and vines snaked their way from the juncture where the chandelier hung to the wood pillars that framed the entryway. The wood floor was covered by a rich red and gold rug that continued up the wide staircase. There were doorways on either side of the stairwell and more beyond it.

  Yup, Mari stood by her assessment that this was castle.

  “You have a lovely home.” She said to Charlie, finally calling on her manners and deciding against further antagonism. It was probably more luck than anything that Cash or Deak hadn’t killed her on sight.

  “My son tells me Trevor can’t change. Is this true?” Charlie directed the question at Jasper but didn’t take his eyes off Mari, face firmly sealed in reticence once more.

  Jasper could only offer an awkward nod in answer.

  Charlie nodded back and waved them into the first doorway to the left. Inside was a room that perfectly embodied the place where Mari imagined Sherlock Holmes did his ruminating, only much bigger. One wall was covered in bookshelves with enough books to fill an entire library. The one across from it had a gorgeous fireplace with intricately carved wood, bordered by two life-sized paintings of wolves. Mari could almost hear the winter wind and see the snowflakes dancing around them. Their glittering blue eyes were like stars in the vast blackness of night.

  For more than a month Mari dreamed of wolfish faces, so it was easy to identify the pictured wolves as Charlie and Cash. That meant someone in the pack painted them. Werewolves that painted, huh?

  Charlie directed them to a gathering of leather sofas and chairs adjacent to the fireplace. He flashed a brief smile at Mari and took his seat in a brown leather chair, gesturing at a matching couch across from him. She carefully scooped her jaw up off the floor before inching to the couch. Even if she were dressed in the finest silk gown and not cutoffs and a grubby sweatshirt, Mari wouldn’t belong here. The house and all the treasures in it were too fine for her. She was afraid she would permanently soil anything she touched.

  Not wanting to ruin the furniture with her soggy clothes, she gingerly lowered herself onto the very edge of the cushion. Jasper leapt up beside her and stretched across her lap, obviously not sharing in her superficial concerns. He lowered his head in that deceptively relaxed manner, eyes lazily roaming the room until they landed on Charlie. Apparently the alpha knew this show well because he chuckled affectionately.

  A tall woman with ash brown hair sauntered through the door, each step punctuated with the click of kitten heels. She acknowledged Jasper with a polite nod as she lowered herself into the chair beside Charlie. She was definitely younger than Charlie but Mari couldn’t say exactly how old either of them was. Charlie was hard to pinpoint, the age in his face shifting with his expressions. At first glance she would have put him in his early fifties, yet when he smiled it was too boyish to be older than thirty five.

  Like the alpha, her serious countenance added years to her face. Mari found this woman—or she-wolf—as intimidating as Charlie, if not more so. Her posture was as sharp as her crease-less skirt and bright white blouse. Her eyes didn’t penetrate the skin the way the alpha’s did but the swirling dark blue was like ominous storm clouds.

  Cash came through a second door behind Mari, her backpack slung over one shoulder and a tray of steaming mugs in his hand. He rested the tray on the coffee table, dropped Mari’s bag by her feet, and took position behind Charlie’s chair like a trained guard. It would have been clear that Cash was his son even if Charlie hadn’t referred to him as such. Cash was a bigger, broader—even his nose was broader—version of his father.

  “How is it then, witch, that you know of our pack? How do you speak to Trevor if he cannot shift?” Charlie questioned, snagging a mug from the tray and cupping it in his palms. “Coffee?”

  “Father Above, yes. Thank you.” Mari eagerly accepted, realizing that it wasn’t a simple mug of black coffee. It was a cappuccino. If not for her lingering nerves, she would laugh at the enigmatic nature of werewolves. Jasper was a beast that ate house cats, yet he lived in an opulent gothic mansion with a pack that drank homemade cappuccinos.

  She shook her head and tried to answer Charlie’s questions. “I’m kind of psychic.” She’d never actually used the word to define her power before and it felt silly on her lips. “I mean, not kind of. I am. I have these magic dreams. I don’t really know how they work but ever since I met Jasper, they’ve all been about him. This might sound strange but I dream his memories. I feel what he feels. I remember what he remembers.”

  “Sibylline Dreamer.” The she-wolf said with interest. “How unexpected.”

  “What’s a Sibylline Dreamer?” Mari asked.

  It was Charlie who responded. “It’s a class of magic folk. Psychics, as you said. No one told you that’s what you are?”

  “My father prohibited practicing magic. He wouldn’t let my grandmother teach me.”

  “A shame. And dangerous.” The she-wolf piped up again.

  “I agree, Clem, but we can worry about that later. She seems fairly harmless.” Charlie patted her shoulder then turned his attention back to Mari. “So you found us with dream magic? That’s the only way you communicate?”

  She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Do werewolves have the power of telepathy?”

  “Telepathy?” The alpha frowned.

  “Like ESP, mind reading, that sort of thing.”

  The question clearly surprised him. “I…er, no.”

  “That’s not strictly true.” Clem, the she-wolf, interjected with a finger in the air. “There is anecdotal evidence of thought transference between mates.”

  There was that word again. “Anyway,” Mari disguised her slight cringe with a flourish of her hand, sloshing the coffee around in her mug. “Sometimes I hear Jasper’s voice in my head. Maybe I’m just crazy.”

  “You’re not crazy.” Gears whirred in Clem’s mind as she carefully dissected Mari with her eyes. “What I don’t understand is how that’s possible without,” she cleared her throat “consummation.”

  “Consummation?” Mari sounded the word out, her brain not quite grasping what that had to do with—“sweet hairy Jesus!” She shifted to the very end of the couch, trying to disentangle herself from Jasper without springing from her seat. “No, we’re not…that’s not…” her shuttered denials were clumsy and only made the awkward silence expand until the room was bursting with it.

  “Of course.” Charlie rescued her. “Clementine wasn’t implying that you’ve completed your mating, only that your situation is unique.”

  Mari sipped her coffee, lowered it from her lips, then sipped it again because she didn’t really know what to do with her mouth—or the rest of herself, for that matter. Jasper squirmed until he was upright, his claws puncturing the leather cushion. Once again the look he gave her was disgruntled and she couldn’t tell if all her jostling irritated him or he was peeved that she was denying that they were mates. Why would they be mates? When was that established?

  “You’ve been wearing the wolf for as long as you’ve been gone, Trev?” The alpha redirected the conversation.