Wicked Moon (The Reluctant Werewolf Chronicles Book 2)

by Tori Centanni

  “Your assistance in this matter is appreciated,” Sasha said, though her eyes said something else. They smoldered with fury.

  “My pack has more resources to spare,” Levi said, breaking his gaze from Sasha and turning toward us.

  His eyes met mine. They were a deep, golden brown, and I felt my heart leap into my throat.

  “You, you’re the one who figured out this dastardly plot.”

  I blinked. ‘Dastardly plot?’ Who talked like that outside of old-timey movies?

  “I—” I started, flustered and tripping over any other words that tried to get out of my mouth.

  “We did some legwork, that’s all,” Raff said, his shoulders squared and chin up as he faced the Alpha.

  Levi smiled. Like Raff, he had a handsome smile, cocky and sure.

  “I see.”

  He glanced at his pack mates, who lingered behind him, ready to jump to his defense should he need it. Not that Levi didn’t look perfectly capable of defending himself.

  “Admittedly, your pack has some unusual methods, but, in this case, you’ve done well.”

  I frowned. That was one heck of a backhanded compliment. Raff’s fists clenched at his sides.

  Sasha cleared her throat.

  “Will you and your pack mates require accommodations?” she asked cheerfully, though her eyes still gleamed with murder.

  Levi signaled one of his pack mates, a woman with blonde hair, who stepped forward and said, “We are formally requesting your hospitality.”

  She gave a slight bow and the others in the Portland Pack did the same. Except for Levi. He didn’t bow or even lower his head. I got why he didn’t bow, sort of, but I didn’t get why he couldn’t ask for hospitality himself.

  “We, of course, would be honored to offer you and your pack mates hospitality until this issue is resolved,” Sasha said stiffly.

  She didn’t bow, either, but Jean inclined her head behind her, and the warriors gave a slight dip of their posture.

  “I’ll show you inside the house,” Jean offered, and the Portland Pack filed out of the barn behind her, Levi included.

  I resisted the urge to stare at his butt, though I did steal a glance only to look up and see Raff watching me with his face tight.

  The moment they were gone, the tension left the room.

  “That was awkward,” I said.

  “It’s pack politics,” Sasha said with a sigh. “I refuse to let them dominate this investigation.”

  “They won’t,” Raff reassured her.

  Sasha’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Charlie, you’ve done a fantastic job. You should consider joining the warriors.”

  I blinked, stunned. Me? A warrior? Nothing about me said warrior in any sense. I was horribly out of shape—though I was slowly improving in that area, with Raff’s insistence on building strength—and I was always more of a scholar than a fighter. My skills were research and reading, not feats of physical prowess.

  “I can see you’re skeptical, but trust me. You have what it takes,” Sasha said, winking at me. “In the meantime, if you’d continue to help Nathaniel in his efforts to track these bastards down, I’d appreciate it.”

  I nodded, still too stunned to speak. Sasha nodded back.

  “Keep me updated,” she said and then turned to exit the barn.

  The warriors, except for Raff, followed her. Once we were alone, Raff turned to me, a warmth in his expression.

  “She’s right, you know. You’re more of a badass than you give yourself credit for.”

  Heat rose in my middle and my heart beat quickened. I’d never thought of myself as a badass, but hearing Raff say it, I could almost believe it.

  Chapter 10

  The next morning, I went to work at the yogurt shop. Business was stupidly slow. With the freezing weather and the threat of snow—something Seattle so rarely had to contend with that even a forecasted inch sent people running to the store for emergency supplies—no one was in the mood for frozen yogurt.

  My shift felt like it lasted for days, and by the time I was zipping up my coat to leave, I couldn’t wait to get out the door. Dark had fallen, and while it wasn’t snowing—yet—bitter cold slapped my bare cheeks and hands. I pulled my fingers up into my coat sleeves and made my way to bus stop. As soon as flakes started falling, the buses would suspend service in most areas, especially at the top of Queen Anne Hill where I stood. It was a ridiculously steep hill that the city refused to run buses up and down with snow and ice on the roads.

  As I walked, I heard footsteps behind me. Way behind me on the sidewalk was a couple heading the same direction, and across the street was a woman walking her dog. The footsteps had sounded closer, but I shrugged it off. I made it to the stop before the scent hit me: citrus and old wood. I’d been smelling that scent for days. I froze, listening. There was something—or someone—behind me in the brush. I grabbed my cheap Taser from my pocket and whirled as Owen stepped out from the trees.

  “Cold night,” he said casually, as if he hadn’t just been stalking me.

  I stared. Owen hadn’t frightened me at all when he’d been paired with Rayna and I’d been with Raff. Alone on the street, though, I noticed just how big Owen was, tall with wide, square shoulders. His leather coat only added to his bulk. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

  “Keeping an eye on you,” he said.

  His expression remained hard, and I got the impression he wasn’t doing it for my sake.

  “Why?” I asked, still trying to sound casual, even as I took a surreptitious step back.

  I didn’t like being followed around by a werewolf I barely knew. I’d been through that enough with Raff, but at least Raff never freaked me out by sneaking up on me at night.

  “It’s my duty.”

  “I don’t need protection,” I said stiffly.

  Especially not protection that freaked me out.

  Owen smiled faintly. “I’m not doing it to protect you. I’m just trailing you today. Alpha’s orders.”

  I shivered, and not just from the cold. “Why would your Alpha order that?”

  Owen shrugged. “From what we can tell, the Northern Washington Pack’s troubles didn’t start until you showed up. Now you’ve been targeted by hunters and a guy hawking poison. Seems like a big coincidence. He wanted to see what you got up to.”

  Bile rose in my throat. I guessed that explained the long, curious look Levi gave me back at the orchard. Of course the hot, sexy alpha wolf didn’t find me attractive. He thought I might be trouble.

  True, the monster hunters who’d come after us had found me through Michael and Damien, and I’d inadvertently led them to the pack, but Raff assured me that they would have found the pack one way or another. They had wanted a werewolf to experiment on in hopes of finding a cure for Marianne, the ringleader’s werewolf sister. The timing was crappy, but it hadn’t been my fault, not really, and whoever was out there selling poison wasn’t my fault, either. Hadn’t Avery said the seller had been doing it since last month?

  Ice ran down my spine. That was, of course, around the same time the hunters came after us, and the same time I’d joined the pack.

  “It’s just bad timing,” I said, my stomach roiling.

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Owen folded his arms over his massive chest. “All the same, it’s my job to track you today and report back to my Alpha.”

  Great, just what I needed. A new werewolf shadow, and one I didn’t particularly trust. Raff wasn’t going to like this any more than I did.

  My bus pulled up to the curb.

  “Good luck with that,” I said, turning on my heel as the bus doors opened with a mechanical whine.

  I boarded quickly, catching Owen by surprise. He made a noise and bounded forward, rushing onto the bus behind me. I tapped my Orca card against the card reader and moved deeper into the bus.

  “Cash or Orca card, sir,” the bus driver
demanded.

  “I don’t have—” Owen protested, searching his pockets as if to demonstrate his lack of funds.

  “Then get off my bus.”

  The bus driver was an older woman with graying hair and a lethal stare. Owen could take her, but not without causing a scene.

  Owen looked at me as I took my seat, pretending I didn’t know him. He finally turned and got off the bus. I smirked as it pulled away. It was a small, silly victory, since he knew where I lived. No doubt he’d be camped outside within the hour.

  But it felt like a small win, and I was going to take it.

  Raff growled and peered out the blinds, looking for signs of Owen.

  “He’s out there,” he reported a moment later.

  I stepped up beside Raff and stood on my tip toes to look through the slat in the blinds Raff was holding open. At first, I didn’t see Owen, but then he must have moved slightly, because the streetlight glinted against his jacket’s zipper. He was leaning against a tree that stood between houses, slightly in front of their porches. From that angle, the residents in either house probably couldn’t see him.

  I sighed and sat back down on the sofa. Raff let the blinds snap shut. I was annoyed at Owen, but more for scaring the crap out of me earlier than following me on orders from Alpha. Not that I loved being stalked by another pack’s warrior, but at least he was technically on our side.

  I hoped.

  “I’m calling Sasha,” he said.

  “No,” I said quickly. I didn’t want to cause more trouble for the pack. “I think it’s a temporary thing anyhow, sort of to see what I do in a day or something.”

  Or so I’d hoped. For all I knew, I’d have a different Portland warrior escort each day until this matter was resolved.

  Raff blinked at me. “This is unacceptable, Charlie. Sending a warrior to spy on another violates the trust between both packs.”

  I shrugged. “He’s not spying on you, he’s spying on me. And he’s not wrong. A lot of our pack’s trouble did start when I finally joined in and went to meetings.”

  Raff’s expression softened. He dropped his arms, his shoulders relaxing.

  “None of this is your fault. You know that, right?”

  “Yeah, of course,” I said, though on some level it felt like it was.

  “It’s not. Whoever is selling this poison under the guise of trying to help werewolves is evil, but it’s not a new evil. Other supernaturals have hated humans who gain magic of any sort for millennia.”

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  That much seemed to be true. Vampires were given a pass, mostly because they no longer counted as a human, though even they were often seen as lesser by the fae, shifters, and witches—those who were born with their power and didn’t have to nearly die to get it.

  But werewolves were still mostly human. We kept our human form ninety-seven percent of the time and were unable to control our shifts, so therefore we were looked down upon in the supernatural world. Never mind that, as I was learning, we had enhanced senses all the time, ran hot, and lived twice as long as humans. That didn’t make us very special to the immortal fae or very powerful to witches who could cast spells.

  “But I bet the pack sure wishes I’d kept my distance,” I grumbled.

  “They don’t,” Raff said without any hesitation. Pretty bold for a guy who was unhappily assigned to protect me last month. “I definitely don’t.”

  Warmth spread through my middle. It gave me a little thrill to hear it. I wanted Raff to like me. And I definitely didn’t want him to see me as a burden or a problem.

  “Even though living with me means a rival pack member is currently staking out your house?” I asked.

  Raff grinned. “What’s he going to see? Lights going on and off? I’m real scared.”

  I smiled. To me, it was super creepy to have a guy standing out in the dark watching the house in order to make sure I didn’t do something their pack might see as suspect, or worse, commit some kind of werewolf treason. It made me feel itchy and uncomfortable that I was seen as a liability or whatever. But Raff’s brushing it off made me feel better about it.

  “What if he decides to do more than just watch?” I asked.

  I didn’t know what was considered an infraction of werewolf law in their pack. It was possible I might inadvertently break some rule I didn’t know about.

  “He’s from a traditional pack, where intimidation on the order of the Alpha is enough to get people to fall in line.”

  Raff crossed the room and lifted the remote, turning on the television. A show where a woman traveled around eating fried food at various diners came on the screen.

  “Owen let you know you were being watched. The fact that he wants you to know suggests he thinks it’ll make his job easier, and that you’ll do your best to prove you’re not causing trouble by staying within his sights.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “That doesn’t sound like me.”

  Raff barked out a laugh. “No. It really doesn’t.”

  He smirked down at me. I was still wearing my work uniform, with its light tan pants and pink shirt, an outfit that usually didn’t make me feel pretty in any way. But the way Raff looked me, I suddenly felt attractive despite the frumpy clothes.

  “So what’s the plan?” I asked.

  Raff stretched his arms over his head, pulling up his plain black t-shirt to expose his bare midriff. I did my best to keep my eyes trained on his face.

  “Ask around, see if anyone else heard about this potion or knows the seller. I’m going to go online and see what I can find tonight. Maybe tomorrow we can pound the pavement.”

  I nodded. That was a good plan. Someone knew who that guy was.

  “Then I’m going to put on pajamas.”

  I stood and found myself face to face with Raff. He was inches away, and I could feel his body heat radiating off him. My heart fluttered. I tried to hold it still, but it beat against my ribs as butterflies exploded in my middle. Raff wasn’t my type. He was a werewolf and kind of a nerd. And yet…

  I met his eyes. He was smiling. At me. The tension in his shoulders had melted, and even though I was dressed like a member of a candy cult in a boxy polo and unflattering tan pants, he looked at me like he didn’t want to look at anything else.

  And then, my phone rang.

  Stupid phone.

  Raff stiffened only slightly as I slipped past him and pulled it out of my purse, which I’d tossed on a narrow entryway table.

  It was a coworker from Yogurt Time asking me if I’d come in early tomorrow to cover her opening shift because she was sick. She sounded pretty bad, and I didn’t have an excuse not to, werewolf stalker or no, so I agreed.

  By the time I hung up, the moment had passed. That was probably for the best, because I was not trying to get romantically involved with another werewolf, especially not my roommate.

  Even if he was pretty hot.

  I squashed that thought and peered out through my blinds to see if Owen was still keeping watch. He was. I tried not to let it bother me as I crawled into bed and attempted to sleep.

  Chapter 11

  I woke up with a powerful determination to do something, so I brought a change of clothes to work and decided to spend my shift at the yogurt shop formulating a plan.

  Maybe Owen following me—and pretty much blaming me for the entire thing—had flipped a switch or whatever. I didn’t know how, but I was going to solve this problem of the fake potions. And the only way I knew how to do that was by doing what I’d always done in times of crisis: read books and ask questions.

  One question I couldn’t get out of my head was why someone would disguise their death poison in such a devious, evil way.

  It should go without saying that I’d looked into werewolf cures before. Pretty much from the moment I was bitten, I was at the faerie Ellianne’s library, searching for possible solutions to my new problem. Trouble was, cures for things like lycanthropy didn’t seem to exist. And most people who cla
imed to have them were only trying to get something from desperate people. Usually money. Sometimes blood.

  That was the most devious part of this jerk’s “anti-shift” potion. It didn’t promise the moon—or, in this case, lack of a moon. There was no claim that it would turn a werewolf human and leech the werewolfism from one’s veins. Instead, it just promised to prevent the shift. One month free of the painful transformation. One month where the full moon wouldn’t wreak havoc on your system. Where you could go to work, or on a date, or to a party without turning into a beast that would ruin everything.

  Almost no werewolf, no matter how desperate (and I’m speaking from experience here), would really believe they could take a shot of green liquid and be normal again forever. It was just too good to be true.

  But an anti-shifting potion that lasted one night felt all too possible. It was such a small thing. Surely, magic could manage that. So it was no wonder that people like Rob, Tracy, and Linda had believed the potion would work. If I’d come across it, I would have happily tried it myself, and I’d be dead.

  At that thought, bile clawed at my throat.

  Because I’d gone into work early, I also got to leave early, and clocked out at four pm. I changed into my street clothes, leaving my dirty uniform in my locker. I’d bring it home after my next shift to wash. I threw on a coat of eyeliner and some mascara. I crept to the front and, ducking behind the counter, tried to see out the window for signs of Rayna. I’d spotted her earlier that morning watching the shop from across the street. If she was still out there, I couldn’t see her.

  Carrie, my coworker, gave me a funny look.

  “Looking for a chapstick I dropped,” I told her. “It’s not here.”

  I crept to the back of the shop, slipped out the rear door, and walked a few blocks in the wrong direction to use an earlier bus stop. Hopefully that would shake Rayna if she was still following me.

  At the bus stop, I considered my options of where to go. In the late afternoon, almost no one would be at Bats, the vampire nightclub where I’d hung out as a teenager. Back then, I’d tried to extract as much information about vampires as I possibly could from the bartenders and other mortals in attendance. It had worked well enough to lead me to the doorstep of a vampire, but then I’d been bitten by said vampire’s werewolf roommate, and the rest was history.