Wicked Moon (The Reluctant Werewolf Chronicles Book 2)

by Tori Centanni

  “What are you doing here, Doug? Have a death wish?” I asked.

  Doug glanced from Raff, who stood to my left and made no motion to attack, and then back to me. Raff folded his arms over his chest and stared at Doug like he was a stain on his shoe. Doug’s hand shook slightly.

  “You killed my friends!” he shouted.

  “Your friends killed our pack mates,” Raff said through gritted teeth. “If we’re going to play who started it, I’m pretty sure you lose.”

  “Doug?” The voice came from around the side of the house.

  Doug smiled. He’d been a scared little doofus last time we’d met, but now he had a sinister, imposing quality to him and his smile was full of hatred.

  His friend’s footsteps sounded on the ground as he rounded the side of the house. He’d be here any second, then it would be two against two, and they were probably both armed.

  Heart pounding, I did what I do best: something stupid.

  “Hey, Doug, maybe I should have shot you in the groin last time.”

  I lowered the point of my gun until it was aimed at his sensitive parts and took two steps closer. That was enough to make him pull his gun from Raff and aim it right at me. Which was exactly what I wanted.

  With the gun no longer aimed in his direction, Raff bolted to the side of the house at preternatural werewolf speed. When Doug’s friend rounded the corner a second later, Raff tackled him to the ground. The man let out a squawk of surprise as he slammed into the dirt with a thud. Raff growled and they writhed around, fighting for the gun.

  “Shoot him!” Doug’s friend yelled.

  It was a stupid request. He and Raff were a blur of motion, and there was no way Doug could have gotten a clean shot. Doug, for his part, did not lower his gun from my head.

  Raff finally wrestled the man’s gun away from him and got to his feet, the weapon aimed at the man, who raised his hands over his head even as he lay in the dirt. Raff’s breathing was heavy, but he held the gun steady.

  “How many more of you are there?”

  The man said nothing.

  “Doug?”

  Doug glared at me. He wasn’t as wimpy and cowardly as he’d been last month. I guess the experience had hardened him.

  “How many?” Raff shouted, jabbing the gun in the man’s face.

  “Two! Alan and Coby. They drive the van.”

  “Good,” Raff said. “Now get to your feet.”

  “Don’t tell us what to do,” Doug said, his glare never leaving my face.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “You’re outgunned, idiot,” I said. “Drop your weapon.”

  Doug licked his lips, sweat beading on his upper lip. He dared a glance over his shoulder, in the direction of his friend. The other man had slowly risen to his feet. He looked a lot like Doug, pale-skinned and greasy-haired, covered in camouflage, including a bulky cargo vest.

  Tires screeched somewhere in front of the house. Doug’s smile widened and his friend cackled. Actually cackled, like a freaking witch from a bad movie.

  “Who’s that?” I asked.

  “Don’t know,” Raff said.

  “It’s backup, kids,” Doug’s pal said, practically spitting the words. “Your death squad.”

  Boots stomped through the dirt and two men rounded the house, guns drawn. They also wore camouflage hats and jackets, and one of them wore night-vision goggles. It was like they ordered supplies from Cliche Werewolf Hunter Weekly.

  My sense of humor faded as a bigger, scarier looking gun was aimed in my direction, with another aimed quickly at Raff.

  “You were saying, about being out gunned?” Doug asked. “Now you drop your weapons.”

  I clutched the rifle like my life depended on it, unwilling to let it go. These men were going to kill us given half the chance, so playing by their rules wasn’t going to save me.

  “Drop it!” the man in goggles shouted.

  Whether he was talking to Raff or me or both of us was unclear.

  “You shoot me, I’m going to shoot him,” Raff said angrily, jabbing the gun at his target and standing his ground.

  Pride welled up inside me, but it was no match for my fear. The only thing keeping me from dropping my gun was sheer terror at what would happen if I did. The other hunter moved quickly behind Raff and shoved the tip of his gun into Raff’s shoulder blade.

  “He said, drop it. Now!”

  Raff had no choice. His gun clunked the ground. The man he’d been aiming at rushed forward and grabbed it. Then all of the guns turned on me, except the one at Raff’s back. When he tried to turn around, the man pressed the gun harder against him and told him not to move.

  “Okay, girlie, drop it,” Doug said. “I promise I’ll only shoot you in the leg.”

  “Well, to start with,” one of the guys said with a laugh.

  Jerks.

  I didn’t move. My knuckles were white as I held the gun too tightly. I was stuck. I couldn’t drop it or they’d shoot me. But if I didn’t drop it, they’d shoot me. There was no way out.

  Panic swelled and then ebbed, fading into a strange calm.

  I could see Doug’s pulse beating in his neck. If I could transform into a wolf, I could tear his throat out with my teeth. I could almost taste his hot, coppery blood.

  Wait, where had that thought come from? I didn’t want any part of Doug in my mouth. And yet the thought of ripping him to shreds was appealing. If only I could transform at will. If only being a werewolf weren’t so incredibly freaking useless.

  Tears pricked at my eyes. I could feel the gentle tug of the moon overhead, though it wasn’t full and it was hidden by clouds. In that moment, I felt so connected to my wolf and the magic, and yet I didn’t have access to it. I couldn’t will myself to shift.

  But….

  The thought was sheer madness, and yet I looked into the eyes of the hunters who were pointing their weapons at me. They were filled with hatred and something else: fear. They were terrified. Even now, as three of them held guns on a young woman who had only learned how to shoot a rifle that morning, they looked scared out of their minds. Even though they had zero reason to think of me as a real threat in this situation.

  They were afraid.

  And I was going to use it against them.

  I steeled myself and then threw the rifle aside, into the grass. I smiled at them as wickedly as I could. And then I looked up at the sky and howled.

  “Stop that!” Doug cried.

  The men exchanged looks, confused and uncertain.

  “What’s she doing?” one of them whispered.

  No one answered him. At any moment, they could end this charade by pumping me full of silver. I had to act fast. I howled louder and began to vibrate, doing my best to simulate the shaky motions of transformation, all while howling up at the moon.

  Raff got the message and started howling too.

  “Stop! Stop now!” Doug yelled.

  We both howled like wolves, and I continued to do my best impression of someone transforming. The hunters stood stock still, too frightened to move, and I hoped they’d flee. If not, this wasn’t going to work. I could only pretend to transform for so long before the lack of fur and fangs became apparent.

  “They can’t shift without the full moon, can they?” Doug asked his friends.

  None of them seemed to know for sure.

  Raff’s howls and mine filled the air. I prayed that a neighbor would come see what was going on or call the cops. Anything. I almost didn’t hear the car pull up out front. I kept up my act and hoped it wasn’t more hunter reinforcements.

  More boots came racing around the house, and I finally stopped my faux-transformation in time to see several black leather clad folks come running around the side of the house.

  It took me a full second to realize who they were: the Portland warriors Levi had called for backup.

  Chaos ensued. The warriors jumped the men with the guns. One of them, a woman with brown hair, pulled out a machet
e and nearly chopped off Doug’s arm to get his gun. He knelt on the ground, whimpering, as she dangled his gun over his head. Raff joined the fight, grabbing my rifle and using it to smack one of the hunters in the temple.

  I stood where I was, not daring to move, barely daring to breathe.

  Once all four hunters were dead or subdued, I felt my knees give out. Raff appeared, catching me mid-collapse.

  “It’s okay, Charlie,” he said, his words hot and breathy against my cheek. “It’s over. Really over.”

  Chapter 24

  The next day, the pack convened at the orchard in the barn-like meeting room where I’d first attended a pack meeting what felt like eons ago, though it had been less than six weeks.

  I wore leggings, a lacy black shirt, and a black chunky sweater. I’d put on my makeup, although I tried to go light on the eyeliner. At least tonight, with the funereal feeling of the meeting, my all-black attire was completely appropriate.

  Raff wore a plain black t-shirt beneath a black collared shirt and dark denim jeans. The greenish-blue streaks in his hair had faded so much it looked like he’d just spent a few hours in a pool, but the look suited him. He kept close to me, never touching but never more than a few inches away. His closeness was a comfort, especially when we walked in to the meeting room and both Sasha and Zara quickly found things to do so they wouldn’t have to talk to me.

  Last night, after the Portland warriors had packed up the hunters—two alive but restrained, two dead—into their oversized SUV, Raff and I had examined the extent of the fire damage, determined the house was not about to collapse, and promptly collapsed ourselves. Apparently, Levi had asked his warriors to stop by Raff’s on their way up to the orchard to check on us, and they’d arrived at just the right time.

  Lucky us.

  Where the hunters were now, I didn’t know and didn’t ask. I knew the living ones would be punished for their crimes, and I knew with so many deaths on their heads, the punishment would probably be their own lives in return. I was just relieved that they wouldn’t be able to terrorize us anymore.

  The entire Northern Washington Pack—what was left of us, anyhow, after so many deaths—filled most of the space. There were fewer than thirty of us now. The Portland warriors stood at the side of the room, backs against the wall. The three who saved us were named Kate (she had the machete), Jesse, and Lei. I’d learned their names last night, but other than a quick explanation of who they were and why they’d come, we hadn’t had time to chat. Not that any of them seemed to be the chatting type.

  As Sasha climbed to the podium, everyone took a seat, including the warriors, who filled in the front section on the left side of the room. Levi stood near the podium on the same side, and Miles stood a little way behind Sasha, keeping watch over the room like a bodyguard.

  “Good afternoon,” Sasha said.

  She sounded cheery and smiled, but it didn’t reach her brown eyes. She wore a stylish black dress and knee-high black boots, as put together as always.

  It was strange not to see Jean hovering behind her or sitting in the front row. A lump formed in my throat at the thought of her loss, and I swallowed it back. Raff stared straight ahead, as if trying not to look at the spaces she would have occupied.

  “As you know, last night, with the help of the Portland Pack’s excellent warriors and our own warrior Nathaniel Rafften, we caught the rest of the werewolf hunters who have been terrorizing and killing members of our pack since last month.” The crowd burst into cheers and applause. Sasha smiled brightly and waited for the noise to die down before continuing. “Unfortunately, before we managed to capture all of them, they killed—directly and indirectly—four of our own this month and at least four last month that we know of, along with two members of the Portland Pack. They have done irrevocable damage to our pack as a whole, and this happened under my leadership. I must apologize to you, for I have failed to keep you safe and protect you.”

  “We love you, Sasha!” a woman yelled, and several people echoed the sentiment.

  Sasha smiled sadly. “I am here before you tonight because you elected me to be your leader. And if you choose now to revoke that power in light of recent events, then I will humbly accept your decision.”

  Murmurs traveled through the crowd. From what I could tell, most people were stunned. Raff’s jaw dropped a centimeter, and he looked to me like I might have the answers.

  “I guess she feels responsible,” I offered weakly.

  “Nothing needs to be decided now,” Sasha said after a moment. “Just something to consider. And now, Levi, the Alpha of the Portland Pack, would like to speak.”

  Sasha gestured to Levi and then clapped, starting a very stilted and uncertain round of applause in the crowd. The Portland Pack members stood and then bowed before returning to the their seats. Levi smiled his devilish smile. He wore leather pants and a long-sleeved gray shirt. He was clean shaven, his dark hair and eyebrows making a stark contrast to the rest of his face.

  “My pack would like to graciously thank Sasha and all of you for the hospitality you’ve shown us this past week. Normally, this is where I would say we owe you a debt of thanks.”

  A tension rippled through the crowd. I couldn’t explain why. It was like everyone suddenly sat on the edge of their seat.

  “But of course, as you know, my warriors were the heroes last night, saving two of yours from annihilation by malicious, ruthless hunters who’ve been attacking your pack for over a month straight.”

  Someone sucked in a breath. Someone behind me hissed quietly.

  “I, myself, saw their ruthlessness and viciousness first hand, when they shot me with silver.” He smiled winningly, a politician selling his bid to the crowd. The crowd, for the most part, seemed confused. “I survived—barely—but one of my best warriors did not.” Levi looked to where Rayna sat, as if Owen were still sitting beside her. “And another of my charges, a young wolfling, fell victim to the hunters’ tricks. And yet within a week, my pack has rounded up all of the hunters and solved the problem, while it is my understanding that after you got a few of them, you simply stopped pursuing them.”

  I blinked. He wasn’t serious. Beside me, Raff balled his fists and looked exactly two seconds away from charging the podium. I reached over and set my hand on his thigh. The moment I realized what I’d done, my cheeks burned. I started to pull away, but then his hand came down on top of mine and squeezed gently, so I left it there. Heat radiated up my arm, but I had to focus on Levi. He told me he wouldn’t do anything until he was healed, but it was clear he was sewing discord already.

  Sasha started to protest, but Levi held up a hand. “I have the floor. And in my pack, we do not interrupt the Alpha.”

  He glared at her. She closed her mouth.

  I shivered, cold moving over me. That single act of dominance had set something in motion, and from the way the crowd shifted uneasily, I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt it.

  “Your pack has failed to contain the problem, and as a result, too many werewolves are dead, yours and mine. What kind of Alpha would I be if I stood by and allowed such flawed leadership to continue?”

  Sasha did protest then, and Miles stepped forward as if he were going to physically remove Levi from the podium. Both men were powerfully built, and if Miles tried, things might get ugly.

  Levi held up a hand. “What I’m saying is that, though I’m weakened by silver and still recovering, I now challenge Sasha for position of Alpha.”

  The room exploded. People jumped from their seats, yelling and shouting. The Portland Pack members stood quietly, arms folded, watching, like an organized military. The sick feeling that finally faded last night slammed into me at full force. I’d known this was coming, but I hadn’t expected it to happen now.

  Sasha pushed Levi away from the podium, and this time, he left quietly. She gestured for us to sit with her palms flat, making a get down motion with both hands.

  When the room quieted and most of our pa
ck was seated (Portland’s Pack had not moved and still stood ominously), she said, “Levi is wrong that we’re weak and didn’t act. We did not have an any reason to suspect the hunters were still at large. The deaths that followed these past few days have stunned and shocked us all.” She swallowed, doing her best to make eye contact with folks in the crowd. “But I respect Levi. And I accept his challenge for Alpha.”

  “What?” I hissed under my breath.

  “She doesn’t have a choice,” Raff said bitterly.

  “Of course she does! He’s not our pack leader,” I argued.

  Raff just looked at me sadly, like he was too tired to explain.

  “Since I am the one challenged, I propose the challenge take place on a night before the full moon next month. Perhaps that Saturday. This will allow Levi time to heal.”

  Once again, the crowd exploded. Many people shouted that letting Levi heal more was not a super great idea, and I agreed. Sasha did the two handed quiet down gesture again.

  “In that time, our own pack will work out what we must.”

  “It’s unusual to postpone such a thing unless you wish to fight as werewolves,” Levi said, scratching his chin. “But I accept.”

  “Good,” Sasha said. “But I must warn you, by then my own pack may have removed me from leadership, and this fight would be unnecessary.”

  I suddenly understood her plan. She wanted to install someone else as our Alpha in the next weeks, making his challenge moot. Given that she’d practically resigned ten minutes ago, it was a brilliant plan. I brightened. Raff relaxed and leaned back against his chair.

  Levi smiled indulgently, and my stomach dropped like a rock. “Then I look forward to challenging your successor.”

  The room went deadly silently. I’d never understood the whole pin drop expression until that moment.

  “That… will not be necessary,” Sasha said, but she seemed to have lost of her proverbial footing. She couldn’t stop him from challenging the next Alpha. “I’m sure our pack will appoint someone worthy.”