Blood Moon

by Rose Marie Wolf

  “Be careful. It hurts.”

  Rose peered closely at the burn wound. She winced.

  “How bad is it?” he asked.

  “Pretty bad. There’s ash in the wound. It’s going to have to be cleaned. It’s blistering.” She touched the swollen skin around it and Aidan twitched.

  “Ow!”

  “Sorry. Do you have any more?”

  “Just a bump on the back of my head, but nothing serious.”

  She nodded and moved away from him and curled her legs beneath her on the cold floor. He did the same. He shivered.

  “There’s no way out of here, is there?” she asked. She turned her head and searched the place, just as he had.

  “No. Nothing but that door.”

  “Great,” Rose scoffed. “That’s perfect.”

  She moved so her legs were no longer beneath her and brought her knees to her chest. She rested her head on them, with her hands on either side of her head. Aidan blinked a few times.

  “It’s fucking perfect,” she said, louder this time. She let out an exasperated breath. He looked away from her and toward the light under the door.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Rose said. She stood and began to pace. She was restless and could not sit still. Her bare feet carried her from one end of the room to the other. She appeared not to notice the cold of the floor against them.

  “They fucked up everything. They come after me with a false murder accusation, they cause me to kill one of their own, and then they track us down with stolen PRDI files, and kill everyone in the building. God, it doesn’t make sense.” She went silent. Her pacing grew faster.

  “I knew you didn’t kill my mother.”

  At that, Rose stopped pacing. She turned to face him. “What did you say?”

  “I said, I knew it wasn’t you that killed my mom. You don’t seem like the type.”

  There was silence again and Rose stood there and looked at him. She didn’t answer and he continued.

  “The guys at the PRDI said it was probably a rogue werewolf, someone who couldn’t control it, someone they don’t have listed. They were behind you one hundred percent. They knew it wasn’t you,” Aidan said nervously.

  “That’s…kind of you to say, Aidan.” Rose spoke softly and slowly. “But there’s something you don’t understand…”

  “You sleepwalk, don’t you?”

  Rose was caught off guard by his intuition. “Why do you ask that? How do you know?”

  “The PRDI,” Aidan said. “They started a new study on sleepwalking. I was part of the seminar. They mentioned you.” He paused. “You know, I don’t think it was you, even if you were sleepwalking. I don’t think you would’ve killed my mom, or her boyfriend.”

  “Why do you say that?” Her voice was hardly a whisper. She watched him.

  “You don’t seem the type. Glen talks about you a lot. You’re not a killer, at least…not mindless. Like he said, you don’t kill for any other reason other than survival. That’s how it should be.”

  There was silence once more. She gave a shake of her head and positioned herself so her cold feet were no longer on the floor. Aidan watched her.

  “Who do you think did it then?” she finally asked.

  Aidan shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  She sighed and looked around the room again. “We have to get out of here, and find out. We have to get to the bottom of this. Jason was killed, Gavin, Mary, Anna, Glen…” She sucked in a breath. Her voice shook now. “I would like to find out why we were spared, and I would also like to find out more about him.”

  “The leader?” Aidan asked.

  “Yes.” Her voice had an edge, a renewed confidence. “He’s not entirely human. I smelled the were-scent on him.”

  Aidan's eyes widened. “Hold on, he’s one of you?”

  “I think so. I’m pretty sure.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “Fuck. I don’t know. We have to get out of here and find out.” Rose turned her head toward the cot. She blinked a few times, considering something.

  "What?" Aidan asked. She turned to look at him. His eyebrows were furrowed together in concern. A small smile pulled at Rose's lips.

  “I think I’ve got an idea.”

  Chapter Ten

  “What’s the plan?”

  Jason stood with his back against the cold stone wall of the basement. It smelled of earth and dampness. He sniffed a few times. There was mold somewhere here. Davis cast him a glance, but then turned his attention back to Glen.

  Glen did not answer right away. He searched deep inside a gun locker for something. The sound of metal on metal clunked loudly. Jason winced slightly at the sound. When Glen didn’t answer, he continued.

  “So we grab a few guns and some ammo. That’s wonderful. But where do we go from here? We don’t even know which way they went, because dumbass over there isn’t very observant.”

  Davis ignored the insult. He took the boxes of ammo Glen held out to him. The two men exchanged glances before Glen’s head disappeared once more into the locker.

  “We’re wasting time here,” Jason said. He didn’t have to raise his voice much. It echoed off the basement walls. “We need to get going.”

  “You said it yourself, Jason. Where do we go from here? Where will you go?” Glen finally spoke. His voice was even. Jason was silent for a moment while he considered Glen’s words. He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I’ll find them. I’m not worried about that.”

  “You sound like it.”

  Again, Jason was put in his place. He gave a shake of his head and tried to clear his thoughts. This was insane. He was acting irrational. Whatever made perfect sense in his mind, was shit when he said it aloud.

  “I’ll find them, Glen.”

  “And what if it’s too late when you do?” Glen slammed the locker shut, his voice drowned out by the bang. “What happens when you get there, and Rose is hurt or dead? What will you do then? I’ll tell you what you’ll do. You’ll freak out, just like you did upstairs. You’ll freak out, and get yourself killed, and if Rose isn’t already dead, she will be.”

  Jason made it a point to keep his eyes off Glen. They burned with anger. He seethed for a moment, told himself to calm down, and then stepped forward. His head grazed the hot light bulb that hung overhead and he ducked. He took the remaining two pistols from the table and looked them over. Standard law enforcement Berettas—Glen’s favorite type of gun. He felt the weight of them, then put them back. Glen watched him closely.

  “I don’t mean to be angry at you. It’s just…” Glen sucked in a deep breath. “She’s my family, and I love her too. I don’t want anything to happen to her, and that includes you acting rash and stupid.”

  “I know.” He kept his gaze fixed on the table in front of him. Davis remained silent, but watchful. Jason ignored him.

  “We’ll leave shortly,” Glen said. “Have patience. We need to get some gear ready, and I have to get in touch with someone.”

  “Who?”

  “Aaron Slater. He’s some kid that’s been tracking the hunters for a while now. He might have an idea on their whereabouts.”

  “Is he a were?” Davis asked. “He sounds familiar.”

  “Yeah. Full-blood.” Glen paused a moment. “I know him pretty well. He comes from a similar background to mine.”

  No one bothered to ask him any further about it. He grabbed one of the pistols and started for the steps. Davis followed behind him with arms full of ammo. Jason lingered and stared down at the remaining Beretta.

  More people were getting involved, yet again. He didn’t like it. He tucked the gun in the waistband of the pants he wore and followed them up the steps.

  “Where are we going now?” He heard Davis ask Glen from the hallway. Jason flipped the light switch off and stepped into the hall. His vision adjusted quickly.

  “There’s a place my parents had when I was growing up. It used to be a storefront. They o
wned their own business, but after they died…” he gave a shrug and continued forward, “it went to hell. I have the run of it now, and I use it as a hideout sometimes, just to get away from everything. It should serve as a good headquarters.”

  “For now,” Jason added. He walked alongside Glen now.

  “You’ve been there before, haven’t you Jason?” Glen asked. They had walked quite a ways now and he paused outside of a door, turning to look at him.

  “No. I’ve never been there. Rose talked about it, and we drove past, but I never went inside.”

  Glen nodded. “It’s not a bad place really. Needs fixing up, but I think it’ll do.”

  “Where is it?” Davis asked. Glen turned the knob, pushed open the door with the back of his hand and entered. Jason flipped on the light and the room was filled with a brilliant light and it hurt his eyes for just a moment.

  “A couple hours drive from here. Not too far.” Glen placed the guns on a cluttered table and Davis did likewise with the ammo. Jason looked around and scrutinized the place.

  Glen’s room was simple, yet typically male. There was a bed that was unmade, the sheet hanging from the mattress. Clothes littered the floor. There were soda cans and bottles on the desk and floor. The desk was covered in papers. A large computer monitor took up much of the space. Jason said nothing.

  Glen strolled to the desk, punched in something and waited while the screen flashed. When it shut down completely, he made his way to the gun cabinet and put in the combination. From it, he took out a few handguns and handed them to Davis. Jason watched carefully.

  “I look forward to kicking some ass,” he said, “but that Simon prick is mine.”

  “Noted.” Glen nodded.

  Davis placed the guns on the table behind him. Jason didn’t like the thought of someone whose allegiance a night ago had been with the enemy now holding a gun in the same room as he. He didn’t trust him. Davis began to speak, his words directed to Glen.

  “If Simon is a werewolf—”

  “I know he is,” Glen answered in a cold voice.

  “Okay, Simon is a werewolf. What does that mean for us?”

  “It means we’ve got even more of a problem on our hands. Dealing with human hunters is tough in itself. Some of these guys dedicate their lives to it. They eat, sleep and breathe killing us. There’s nothing else for them. They’re careful and deliberate. They’re hard to beat.

  “Then you get the jackass types. They’re just starting out, or they don’t know what they’re doing. They always fuck everything up, and you can pick them off from a distance. Doesn’t take much to spot them. These other guys, though, they spend years coming up with a different lifestyle. They have seemingly normal jobs. They can look you in the eye and lie about what they are, if you ask them. They’re hard to spot. They’re that damn good at what they do.”

  “And the ones like Simon?” Davis asked. He picked up an empty clip and started to load it with bullets. He kept his gaze fixed upon it. Jason stood near the door, arms crossed.

  “I’ve never heard of a werewolf hunting werewolves. It’s never even crossed my mind…” Glen sounded confused. He shook his head and looked at Davis.

  “So this is totally new?” he asked.

  “Totally.”

  “Fuck. And I never even knew.” Davis also shook of his head.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know. I hope to help you out with all this as much as I can. We’ve got a lot on our plates as it is… I’ll tell you what it means for us. It means we’re fucked…”

  The voices died away as Jason opened the door slowly and slipped out of the room. Once out in the hall, he retraced his steps and made his way to the foyer. They'd realize he was gone soon, and he wanted to be as far away as possible.

  He found the front door without a problem and stepped out. He ran the rest of the way across the lawn. Dawn had just broken in red and orange across the sky. Wet leaves stuck to his boots as he raced the street.

  He didn’t care what Glen had told him. They were taking too much time. He had to do this on his own. He would find the hunters himself, or die trying. Damn Davis, and damn Glen. This was his fight.

  Jason only stopped on the sidewalk to view the cars lined there and to pick out the one he was going to steal.

  * * *

  Simon’s footfalls echoed as he walked along the catwalk and stopped when he reached the door of the room. His keys jingled as he searched for the right one, inserting it into the keyhole. It unlocked with a loud click.

  He inched the door open slowly and peered expertly into the darkness. He saw nothing of the girl, or the boy. Slowly, he took a few cautious steps inside. He could smell them here.

  Suddenly, the door slammed into his back, hard. A flash of annoyed pain coursed up Simon’s spine. He clenched his teeth.

  “Go, run!” she yelled from behind the door.

  Something tight wrapped around his neck and a significant weight pressed against his back. There was a scramble and he caught sight of the boy racing past him and out the door.

  Enraged, Simon reached behind him. Grabbing hold of a mass of hair with one hand and a shoulder with the other, he threw her weight off his back in one swift move. She went over his shoulder and hit the floor with a gasp of pain. The tangled bed sheet was still gripped in her hands.

  “Catch him!” Simon yelled out the door. The boy couldn’t have gotten far. There would still be time to catch him. As the woman scrambled to her feet, Simon reached out and pulled her roughly to him by the arm. He jerked it behind her back and forced a strong grip on her other arm.

  “Let go!” She spat at him, her eyes yellow with anger. Simon set his jaw as he steered her out of the room. She tried to kick at him, but it was useless. He shoved her against the railing. She was forced to lean forward, revealing a front-row view of the scene unfolding below.

  Eric, startled by the shouts, was first to show himself. He tore from his room and caught the boy just as he reached the door. His massive weight tackled him to the floor. When he stood, he had the boy in a tight bear hug. Sean wasn’t too far behind.

  “Let me go, you bastard!” the boy screamed. His voice echoed loudly. Alana watched from the door of her sleeping quarters with mild interest. Claire appeared at the door to her own, her fingertips lightly pressed against her bottom lip. Her eyes were wide.

  Simon’s laughter echoed from the catwalk. He leaned over the werewolf, enjoying the fact that she was so close to him he could catch her scent. His lips pressed against her ear. He breathed in deeply and exhaled against her skin.

  “Watch. You’ll love this.” He breathed hotly into her ear.

  Eric looked up at Simon and received a nod of approval. He let go of the boy who, immediately and quite foolishly, tried to attack him. He tried to ram his shoulder into the weighty man’s stomach. It was as useless as hitting a brick wall. He fell back and was quickly hoisted up by Sean.

  The boy stood more of a chance against Sean than Eric and he tried to hit him next. Sean saw the blow coming and dodged. The boy’s momentum tilted him forward. He lost his balance and stumbled.

  Fighting wasn’t an option for him now and he saw an opportunity. He took off, trying to break the lines between the two men and head for the door. The men laughed and Eric grabbed the collar of his shirt. The boy was brought back to the floor.

  Yet again, he was hoisted to his feet and received a backhand hard across the face. The force and surprise of it knocked the boy back and into Sean. He shoved him forward.

  On the catwalk, the girl tried to get away. Simon’s hold only tightened. He enjoyed the feel of her backside as it pressed against him. He held her close and forced her to watch.

  “You’re not having fun, Rose? It gets better.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “In due time.”

  He grew weary of them toying with boy. He watched Eric hit the boy again. Blood sprayed into the air. Rose tried to break free again. She whimpered.

&nbs
p; “Enough of this pathetic shit,” he called down. “Get it over with.”

  “No!” she screamed. Simon tightened his grip, so hard that he could almost crush the bones in her arm. She whimpered in pain. She had no choice but to watch as Eric removed his pistol and took aim.

  “Aidan!” Her shout wasn’t enough to drown out the gunshot. Blood sprayed in the air and the boy sank to the floor in a crumpled heap. The gunshot still rang throughout the room.

  Claire’s hand covered her mouth. Alana’s face held a smug, satisfied expression, before she turned and glanced up. She caught sight of Simon holding the female werewolf and her expression became sour. Simon caught her gaze and hatefully smirked. She frowned and turned back to her room, slamming the door loudly.

  “No,” the girl sobbed. She struggled suddenly against Simon.

  “Clean up the mess.” Simon commanded.

  They were already dragging the boy’s bloody body away. A trail of red followed him. In his tight grasp, Rose began to shake violently. He could feel her muscles tighten. She was heading for a shift.

  Though he was immensely stronger than she, a full-blown shift would even take him by surprise. His strength would be nothing compared to the adrenaline fueling her body.

  “Eric, grab the kit! Now!” Simon shouted. As he whirled her away from the railing, she lashed out at him, her strength increased. He wouldn’t be able to hold her for much longer. Not like this anyway.

  He grabbed both her wrists and forced her back against the wall. Face to face with her, Simon’s felt his eyes burn as he glared at her.

  “Not now,” he growled at her. Her breath became heavier. His heart raced. Her eyes were golden, feral.

  “I know what you are.”

  He clamped a hand fully over her mouth, risking the grip he had on her left wrist. He pressed himself against her and pinned her arm to the wall. His hard-on pressed against her leg, painfully obvious in his jeans.

  “I don’t care what you know. You keep that a secret between you and me.” He panted against her cheek. She let out a groan and pressed against him as she tried to get away. She tried to bite his hand, but he adjusted his hold. He felt her tense and chuckled.