Blood Moon

by Rose Marie Wolf

  The young man had quit his tears, though they still appeared fresh on his face. His nose, cheeks and chin were red and his nose dribbled clear mucus. In Davis' eyes, Glen spotted the feral yellow hue common among werewolves. Glen furrowed his eyebrows once more.

  His stare was blank, but Davis spoke clearly. “There’s always the blood. It’s always been there. I see the blood as if it’s still on my hands. I feel it. I…smell it.”

  “What are you talking about? Did you kill her? Did you kill this woman?”

  “Not her. No.”

  There was silence as Davis’ eyes became unglazed and he stared at Glen. He looked at him with such a shock that it appeared he was just seeing him for the first time.

  “But you did kill someone?” Glen asked. His hand still held his gun. His fingers itched around the grip.

  “Tonight? No. I just…found her like this. I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill anyone tonight.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Who was she?” Davis turned back to Mary. He shuddered and closed his eyes.

  Glen paused a moment and blinked a few times before responding. “Her name was Mary Robbins. She was a researcher here.” He turned back to her as well. “We worked together sometimes.”

  “Was she a werewolf?” Davis still had his eyes closed.

  “No.”

  There was silence again and Davis wiped his eyes and nose with the sleeve of his jacket. He opened his eyes, being careful not to look at the bloody mess of Mary, and forced himself to stand. Glen watched him closely.

  “I killed a woman once, about a year ago. She was a werewolf.”

  “What? Who?” Glen demanded. He continued to watch him, his eyes narrowed.

  Davis was quick to answer. “I didn’t want to do it, but he made me. It was all Simon’s idea. I shot her when he shoved me forward. Her kid walked in, saw it all.” He paused, not wanting to relive the painful memories. “Believe me, I am not a killer. I never wanted to do it.

  “When I saw her…” he gestured toward Mary without looking at her, “…I saw that woman in my mind. I saw the blood. I saw her dying. I saw what I had done.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Glen spat at him. “Why do I need to know your past?”

  “I don’t fucking know.” Davis’ voice went high. “Maybe to give you some idea about me.”

  “I know nothing about you except you are some sort of werekin, a hunter and a jackass. What else do I need to know?”

  “I’m not a killer,” Davis repeated, more adamantly. “It was not my fault.”

  Glen wasn’t listening anymore. He put his gun back in his waistband and moved toward Mary. More papers lay beneath her, thoroughly saturated with blood. Gingerly, he pulled the bloody pages from under her and tried to read them. They were a blurry mess.

  He turned to Davis.

  “I want answers. I want to know more about this Simon guy. He’s not entirely human.”

  “I still don’t know what you mean by that.”

  “Of course you don’t. You don’t know a lot of things. I guess I’m going to have to teach you.” Glen dropped the bloody papers and sighed. “I’ll have to find out what she found on my own.”

  “What do you mean?” Davis asked. He kept his distance from Glen and his hands at his sides.

  “I mean, she was trying to find out just who you were and why you were targeting Jason and Rose.”

  Davis shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “I figured that,” Glen snapped. “I have to find out everything myself now.”

  Davis looked at the bloody mess but quickly turned away. Glen watched him. There was a pain in Davis’ eyes momentarily as they flickered toward Glen's face.

  Glen heaved a sigh. “You really are bothered by this, aren’t you? You were a hunter, dealing with this stuff for a living, and you’re bothered by it. Are you sure you didn’t know her?”

  Davis gave a slight shake of his head. “I told you before. I never knew her. It’s just…she reminded me of that.”

  “I never saw anyone act like this over the death of someone they don’t know.” Glen turned. “By all rights, I should be the one mourning.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop apologizing. It annoys me.” Glen shot him a hard stare. “There’s nothing we can do here.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “You mean, what are we going to do.” Glen grinned.

  “We?” Davis sounded confused.

  “Yes, we.”

  “No way, man.” Davis backed out of the room, holding both his hands up in surrender. “I don’t want anything more to do with this. I’ve had enough.”

  Glen laughed. “Not yet you haven’t.”

  “I told you,” Davis continued. “I know nothing about all this. I don’t know why Simon wanted her.”

  Glen lifted a hand to silence him. “He came here just for Rose, then?”

  “As far as I know, yeah. They took a boy as well.”

  Davis stood out in the hall, watching Glen carefully. He looked as if he wanted to run. He took a step back, but Glen began speaking again.

  “Listen to me, Davis. I know you don’t want to be a part of this, but you don’t have much of a choice. You can work with me, and help me figure this out and find this Simon or…” He paused to look him right in the eye. “You can join the rest of your hunter buddies.”

  Davis stared at him for a long moment, unable to speak. His pale lips moved wordlessly. He licked them once.

  “You can’t intimidate me…”

  Glen lifted an eyebrow. “I think I already have.”

  “Don’t think you can—”

  “Stop stammering, Davis. Will you help or not?” His hand moved to rest on the grip of the gun. Davis’ stare followed his movements. “Remember, I’m faster and stronger than you are, even if you are a werewolf. You’re only half at the most, and I’m full-blooded. I trust we can work together with no ugly complications? What’s it going to be?”

  Davis sighed, defeated, and narrowed his eyes. “You know something? I really don’t like you.”

  Glen grinned and moved his hand away from the gun. “Are you going to help?”

  “Doesn’t look like I have much of a choice. I guess so.”

  “Good.” Glen nodded his approval. “Now, let’s get back downstairs. We’ve got a lot to do.”

  Chapter Six

  The van lurched forward as it slowed outside the warehouse. Claire held onto her seat with both hands to keep steady. Gravel crunched under the tires, and the brakes squealed shrilly as the van came to a stop.

  “Finally,” Simon breathed. He lifted himself from his seat, back hunched under the low ceiling. The door slid open. He stepped out and stood to his full height. He lifted his cigarette and took a draw from it.

  “Let’s not waste anytime,” he said as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. He gestured toward the equipment in the van. “Claire, bring all this in. Don’t take forever. We’ve got shit to do.”

  The front door of the warehouse was open and blocked by the slender form of Alana. She had her arms crossed and her green eyes watched as Eric and Sean piled out of the front. Claire narrowed her eyes to slits as she stared at Alana. Simon moved away from the van and toward her. He shouted his instructions at Eric and Sean.

  As he came near, Alana stepped aside to allow him to pass. Her gaze continued to follow him until he moved by, then shifted to Claire. She lifted one thin eyebrow and smirked cockily before tossing her head back. Her short-clipped auburn hair bobbed as she followed him inside.

  Claire gave a shake of her head and rolled her eyes. She turned her attention to the equipment around her and gathered a few small things close to her. Eric said something to Sean, but it was muffled and she couldn’t hear it. Soon, the dark-skinned man was at the side door. He hefted the unconscious female werewolf from her seat.

  Claire paused and watched as the woman’s head lolled forward and her hair fell agains
t Eric’s broad back. Her arms swung limply at his side as he carried her away from the van and toward the warehouse. Claire sucked in a tense breath.

  Sean appeared next at the van’s door and removed the boy from his seat. A soft groan sounded from the boy and Claire saw his eyes flicker open very briefly. His glazed stare focused right on Claire and a chill went through her.

  Unceremoniously, he was hoisted over Sean’s shoulder. His head swung to and fro. She once more felt a wave of anger move through her, but there was nothing she could do. She turned her eyes elsewhere and tried not to think on it.

  Slowly, she gathered a few of the cases. She opened them and replaced items taken from them. She put her laptop away and zipped the case. Her gaze followed Sean as he disappeared inside the warehouse.

  I cannot let Simon continue this. It’s not right. I can’t sit around and allow this to happen. She reached forward and grabbed the case holding Simon’s laptop and pulled it toward her. Apparently, it had become unzipped, and papers and folders spilled out of its compartments. They went askew all over the van’s floorboards.

  “Shit!” She crouched to the floor to retrieve them. She gathered the papers into one pile and stared down at the top sheet. She brought her eyebrows together as she picked it up and squinted in the darkness. The print was small and she could hardly make it out.

  But she had an idea what it was about.

  Quickly, she stuffed the papers back into the empty folder and unzipped her own laptop case. She slid the folder inside. It snugly fit inside a hidden compartment. With a little luck, Simon wouldn’t notice them missing for a while. He seemed too preoccupied to bother with his files any longer.

  She closed both cases and brought them out of the van with her. The front door to the warehouse had been left open for her. The lights inside the place were rather dim. She found herself squinting to look two feet in front of her. Claire wished someone had upped the wattage of the bulbs here, but it would have to work for now. Her eyes worked to adjust.

  The warehouse had been a storage and shipping facility for auto parts a long time ago. Now, it was out of business. It had long since been closed and only a few remnants of furniture and parts remained. It was the perfect place for an undercover job. For something this deadly.

  The room Claire stood in was huge. A large catwalk lined three of the four walls. There were heavy double doors directly to her left. They lead into a docking area just outside. In front of her were several other doors all of which led to many different rooms. There was even a vending area which had become a makeshift kitchen. A few spare storage rooms now served as sleeping quarters.

  Up the stairs and along the catwalk was the old manager’s office, which was a room with just a simple desk and a few empty filing cabinets. There was a bathroom as well on the second floor, and more rooms they used for extra sleeping places. She watched Eric walk into one of the rooms with the girl. That had to be the holding “cell”.

  Crates of unshipped auto parts cluttered the main room, but even with the clutter, echoes were still easily made. Claire made it a point to keep as silent as possible. She left to get more of the equipment.

  As she returned inside with the heavy box, she wasn’t exactly surprised to see Simon inspecting the equipment she had just brought in. For a brief moment, she thought he had discovered his missing files, and her heart beat wildly. Her fear was misplaced. He hadn’t even opened the cases.

  Cigarette smoke curled from his nostrils, the cigarette itself dangled dangerously on his lower lip. He didn’t bother to look at her as she set the box on the floor beside him. He opened the box and started to unpack the guns and ammo. Claire left to retrieve the final load. She slid the door of the van shut and carried the final crate into the room. She set it on the table.

  “That’s all of it,” she said quietly. If Simon had heard her, he pretended not to notice. She moved quickly. She unzipped her laptop case and removed the computer. She allowed it to load up.

  “We lost a lot of men tonight.” He spoke in a low voice, calm yet commanding. He didn’t have to speak loudly at all because everyone in the room stopped to listen. There was a scuffle. The boy had awoken and struggled in his captor’s arms.

  “We lost a lot of men,” he repeated. He ignored the boy for now. “And a lot of ammo, but it was not all in vain.” His dark eyes moved from face to face of those closest to him. They rested a long moment on the struggling boy in Eric’s grip. They rested a moment longer than necessary on Claire. He continued, “We succeeded in destroying them, and we brought back the girl, and this boy.”

  The boy, who continued to struggle, had a hand clapped over his mouth. His screams were muffled. Simon continued to pay no attention. He loaded a fresh clip into his gun.

  “We’ll rest here for a couple of days.” he said. He turned and started up the steps toward the holding room. “But it will be wise to move on soon. We never know if we may be tracked.”

  “Sounds great to me,” Alana said. She tossed her auburn hair. She gave Claire another unsavory look. “I hate this damn place.”

  “The feeling is mutual,” Claire muttered. She had just started downloading the files from her computer’s hard drive to the backup disks. She was about to say something more when an anguished cry erupted from behind her.

  “Let me go!” Blood dribbled down the boy’s chin and from a gash in Eric’s thumb. He had renewed his grip on the boy’s upper body, but another bite to the hand had prevented him from silencing him any longer. His strength lifted the boy several inches from the floor. The boy’s legs swung back and forth. He tried to kick at Sean.

  Simon stood at the top of the stairs. His cigarette dangled from the smirk on his lips. He started down them, an amused expression on his face. Claire feared what was going on in his head.

  Alana moved away from Claire and toward the commotion. She too looked amused. Claire didn’t like where this was going and took a step back.

  “Grab him!” Eric commanded. Sean got close enough to receive a stern kick to the chest. He doubled over and charged toward the struggling youth. He held both arms secure around his legs.

  “You fuckers!” Though the boy still tried to thrash, his struggles were in vain. He was tightly held now. Simon laughed.

  “That’s it. Keep him still.” Simon’s boots echoed as he walked down the metal steps and finally reached the concrete floor once again. There was a last heavy ring as he took the last step down. He barely glanced at Alana or Claire as he passed them, but their gaze followed him.

  “What are you going to do?” Alana asked. One hand rested on the grip of her USP, and a grin played on her red lips.

  “Get some info.” He was interrupted by another scream from the boy.

  “I won’t tell you a goddamn thing.”

  Alana laughed and Simon grinned. The others would’ve chuckled had their situation not called for their full attention. Claire swallowed hard. There was nothing she could do. She backed against the table and watched, unable to look away.

  “I figured you’d say that.” Simon jeered. He moved slowly toward the boy. Eric held his upper body firmly while Sean continued to keep a tight grip on the legs. His struggles were well under control. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  Simon took a deep, long draw from his cigarette and blew the smoke into the boy’s face. He leered at him with a disgusting smirk. The boy’s eyes were wide with fear. He visibly shook and his lips formed soundless words.

  “Let me go,” he finally got out. This brought more laughter from Simon. He flicked his cigarette ash to the floor and took the last two steps to stand in front of the boy. He lowered his face to his.

  “No,” he answered.

  “Fuck you.”

  The boy spat. White flecks of spittle hit Simon’s face, but his smirk did not go away. Claire could not look away and her eyes burned from staring.

  “That wasn’t a very smart thing to do.” Simon wiped the saliva from his face. His voice was angry. “I ne
ed some answers.”

  The kid renewed his struggles. One leg somehow got free from Sean’s grip. Again, he landed a kick to Sean’s chest.

  Sean let out a groan and lost his grip just enough for more kicks to hit him. The boy let out a yell and tried to pull away. Eric still held him tight. Simon moved fast and his fist connected with the side of his face. Blood spurted from the boy’s mouth, and his struggles ceased.

  “Listen here, you little twat.” Simon glared at him. Sean quickly regained his hold on the boy’s legs. “I only wanted some answers. I don’t like you, and I know the feeling is mutual, so let’s get right to the point. A little cooperation goes a long way. I want to know where the others are and I want you to tell me now.”

  The kid didn’t respond. Blood dripped down his chin. He glared back at Simon. Alana shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a hand still rested on one of her guns. Judging from the pleased look on her face, Claire was sure Alana enjoyed this.

  Simon lifted his cigarette again and took a puff from it. He paused and looked down at the cigarette a moment. Once again he moved too fast. He pressed the glowing red tip to the boy’s cheek. The scent of burnt flesh wafted into the air.

  Claire gasped, but the sound was drowned out by the boy’s scream of pain. His breath came out in harsh gasps. Simon pressed harder and he cried out louder.

  When finally he removed the now extinguished cigarette, there was a burned and bleeding wound on the boy’s face. Claire saw the tears brim in his eyes and her hand went to her mouth to cover her next gasp.

  The boy tried to hold in his cries. His lips went white under the brightness of the blood around his mouth. Tears fell down his cheek and strands of his dirty blond hair fell into his face. Simon chuckled.

  “I guess you don’t know anything about them, huh? You probably wish you did, so we’d go easy on you, right?”

  “Don’t…” the boy tried to say.

  A moment later, Eric brought the grip of his pistol down across the back of the boy’s head. He was out. His head drooped forward, hair hiding his face. Blood stained his T-shirt. Eric easily pulled him up and over his shoulder. He began the trek up the stairs as the boy dangled over his back.