Blood Moon

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Blood Moon Page 14

by Rose Marie Wolf


  Light filtered in through the slightly opened door, bright enough to cause her to squint. The person that entered the room was only a dark shadow. Then the door closed and it was dark again.

  Rose’s sight adjusted soon and she could see that the figure wasn’t the man the held her before, but a female. She approached slowly into the center of the room. She gave off a scent of fear. Rose narrowed her eyes and stayed silent.

  Papers rustled in her nervous hand. The woman turned her head away from Rose. She was clearly human, judging by her scent. Rose thought it over as she studied her. She wouldn’t attack her, but maybe she could get some answers.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” Rose’s voice suddenly rang out. It echoed off the walls and she couldn’t help but feel slightly smug when the woman jumped. Her eyes tried to find her.

  “My name is Claire. Where are you?” the woman whispered. Rose shifted her weight slightly, only the slightest sound indicating movement. The girl’s eyes flashed to the corner, trying to focus in on her.

  “What do you want?” Rose repeated.

  “I want to talk to you…”

  “About what?” Her voice was callous and cold. She narrowed her eyes as the woman approached her. “Don’t come any closer.”

  Immediately she stopped. “All right,” she said softly. She folded the papers nervously in her hands. Rose stared at her and blinked a few times.

  “What do you want to talk to me about?”

  The woman was hesitant. She licked her pink lips to moisten them before she was able to speak. “I want to talk to you about Simon.”

  “Who’s Simon?” Rose asked, but she didn’t need an answer. In her mind, she saw a flash of the yellow eyes and the detestable grin and she knew who she meant.

  “The man who kidnapped you,” the woman said.

  Rose said nothing in response. She watched the blonde woman carefully. She unrolled the papers nervously and tried to look at them in the dark. It was useless. Her eyes looked up and searched for where she had last seen Rose. “There’s something strange about him.”

  “He’s a werewolf,” Rose answered in a cold voice. The blunt answer stung in the darkness. “A full-blood.”

  The woman took in a deep breath and exhaled it shakily. “I was afraid of that.”

  Rose stood slowly to her feet, never taking her eyes from her. “You knew?”

  “I—” She started to say something, then gave a shake of her head as if what she wanted to say seemed stupid. “Where are you?”

  “I’m here.” She took a step forward, making her feet fall with distinct noise so the other woman could find her. It took her a moment, but she was soon staring toward her. “You knew he was a werewolf?”

  “Not all along,” she said. “I just found out.” She gave a wave of the papers in her hand.

  Rose looked at them as if now just noticing them. “What are those?”

  “PRDI files. He stole them. I’ve been reading them.”

  “Fuck,” Rose breathed. She began to pace slowly back and forth. Her feet pattered on the cold concrete beneath them. She wrapped her arms around her to combat some of the cold.

  “I found out about the werewolf gene from reading the papers. The symptoms, the signs…”

  “You make it sound like some disease,” snapped Rose. She glared at her. The woman faltered.

  “No…No…” She kept her voice low. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…a lot of the things that distinguish werewolves from humans are…well…in him. I noticed it.”

  “So you just now found out? Damn it,” Rose said. She shook her head. “He must be damn good if he can hide it from other hunters.”

  “I’m not a hunter.” She protested.

  “Then what are you? A fucking nursemaid?”

  “No,” she answered, indignantly. Color flooded her face. Rose smirked in the dark. “But sometimes I feel like it. Unlike those other jerks in there, I don’t want any part of this. I don’t want anyone else to die. I never wanted to be in this.”

  Rose’s smirk faded. There was a sincerity in the woman’s voice she hadn’t expected. She blinked a few times in confusion.

  “You saw what they did to him, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” Silence fell uncomfortably around them before Claire spoke again. “It wasn’t right. He was a kid. He didn’t do anything.”

  “He wasn’t even a were.” Rose finished. She considered something for a moment and then asked. “Why are you really here?”

  “To talk about Simon. I want to get out of this, but I can’t. He’s threatened me several times already. I’m afraid to even be near him.”

  “And you should be,” Rose answered glumly. “He’s dangerous.”

  “No shit. What do I do?”

  “I don’t know.” Rose shook her head. “I don’t know.” Her words faded into silence. The woman seemed to be thinking on them. She spoke up.

  “It’s true that he is a werewolf?”

  “Yes. I smelled it on him. There’s no denying that.” Rose crossed the floor and stood near the cot. She stared down at it and wrinkled her nose in disgust. It stank. She turned to Claire. She had folded the papers in her hand again.

  “Then we are all in serious danger.”

  “Yes.”

  The woman sighed. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Nothing does anymore,” Rose whispered in the darkness. Her hand had gone to her throat and she touched the ring on its chain. Tears welled in her eyes and threatened to fall. She clasped the ring tightly. It was the only thing she had left of him, the ring and her memories.

  Claire's voice cut through the silence. “I want to help you.”

  “What?” Rose said, disbelieving as she broke from her reverie. She continued to hold the ring and stared at the blonde woman across from her.

  “I want to help you,” she repeated. “I mean, if you help me, I’ll help you.”

  Rose scoffed a bit. “I don’t believe you.” She eyed her suspiciously and was thankful that the darkness kept her features dim from the human.

  “I know, but…” She hesitated and let out a breath. “I think if we can work together, come to some mutual agreement, we can both get out of this. Simon is a madman. He’s going to kill me if I stay any longer, and he’s going to kill you.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Rose said, her tone icy.

  “I hope you’ll do more than think,” she said. “I knew you wouldn’t agree to it right away. I only hope you can come to some decision soon. We don’t have much time.”

  Her face was sincere and her voice shook. Rose had decided long ago that she wasn’t going to give into the hunter’s demands, but this one had claimed no hold to the title. Rose was beginning to believe her. She shook the thought away.

  “I’ll think on it,” she said again.

  “My name is Claire,” the woman repeated as if afraid Rose had forgotten it. “I can somehow sneak you out of here. I don’t know yet what I can do, but give me a while and I’ll have it figured out.”

  Escape…it would be futile. Rose had seen what happened. “It’ll be another massacre like the one before. Aidan was killed because of an escape attempt. I don’t think it would be wise just yet.”

  “No, not yet, but soon.” Claire agreed. “I can figure up something. Just think it over. We can both get out.”

  Her voice was suddenly cut off as the door to the room was thrown open. Claire stood there, her mouth agape. Her eyes squinted against the bright light. Fear suddenly stank from her.

  Rose shielded herself from the blinding light and took a step back. She could see the figure of a tall man, reaching Claire’s side. The smaller woman stared up at him. The male were-scent filled the room.

  “What are you doing, Claire?” Simon spoke. His voice held a growl. His eyes met Rose’s in the dark and she felt a snarl rise involuntarily within her. She glared at him and pressed her back to the wall. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

&nb
sp; “I was just checking on her. I thought you might’ve given her too much of the drug. I wanted to see—” Claire stammered. Her face was pale in the incoming light.

  “She’s fine, Claire. Get out.” He pointed toward the wide open door. “Now. And close the door behind you.”

  Claire threw a glance back toward Rose, her eyes pleading for a moment. She quickly complied with his request and closed the door behind her. The room was filled with darkness again.

  But Rose could see him perfectly as he approached her. This time, she did growl, loud and mean. He smirked at her.

  “Don’t mind her.” He spoke in a smooth voice. He stopped just in front of her. “She’s just a bit aggravated and tired. You know…long night.” His chuckle was low and deep.

  Rose said nothing, Her eyes burned as she stared at him. The wolf within her was threatened. She wanted to attack him, but she held off. She knew his strength outmatched her own. His muscles rippled beneath the T-shirt he wore as he crossed his arms.

  “Your growls don’t scare me, Rose,” he said. “In fact, they do quite the opposite.”

  “I knew it.” Rose breathed at him. “You sick, twisted son of a—”

  “You know nothing.” He cut her off before she could finish. She seethed. Rage tore through her body and she shook.

  “You’ll know things, eventually,” he added. “Things that I’m sure you’ll learn to appreciate and love.”

  He suddenly reached for her and it was the opportunity she had been waiting for. She pulled back her arm and moved it forward with incredible speed, toward his face with her claws extended.

  He grabbed her quickly and roughly by the wrist, stopping her hand inches from his face. His grip bruised her and he pulled it back painfully. She cried out and he wrenched her close to him.

  “Behave yourself, Rose,” he whispered into her ear as she protested with a struggle. She kicked at him, but he ignored any pain inflicted from Rose’s bare feet. She snarled loudly and tried to lash at him with her other hand. He grabbed it as well and held it in a firm grip. He was very strong.

  “Behave…or I will make you behave,” he repeated. His voice was lower now, darker. His eyes flashed with golden. Rose stared at him with what she was sure was a matching gaze.

  “Fucker,” she snarled and spat. It hit him in the eye, and he let out a growl of annoyance. He held both her wrists in one hand as he wiped the spittle from his face with his free hand.

  Simon shoved her against the wall, with a guttural growl. She let out a cry of pain. He spoke low, his face inches from hers. “Try anything like that again, and you’ll pay for it.”

  “Let me go, you bastard,” she snarled. Her struggles were useless. His grip was too tight.

  “You wanted it the rough way, and that’s what you got.” He leered at her. A chuckle rose in his throat. “I like it rough.”

  “You disgust me.”

  “I hope you change your mind about me soon.” He grinned evilly and she could see the pointed upper and lower canines when he did so. She hated him.

  “Never,” she answered.

  “Never say never,” he whispered. He pressed himself against her and once more she felt his hardness brush her leg. Rose felt revolted. He pressed it more against her and she turned her head as he leaned closer to sniff at her throat. She felt his hot breath against her neck. Her head swam.

  “Let go of me,” she warned him again.

  He laughed low and drew his face across her neck until his lips touched her skin. It burned. She wanted to scream. He withdrew slowly, looked her in the eye and grinned maliciously.

  “You know what I want,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. Rose felt his breath on her face. She felt smothered. “And I think you want it too…”

  “You son of a bitch.” Her voice faltered and he laughed again.

  “I don’t think you deny it either. You can’t. Your heart is racing.”

  She was suddenly aware that it was. Her breathing was heavy and fast. She glared at him. She could think of nothing bad enough to call him, there was nothing bad enough she could do to him, and he just laughed.

  And then suddenly, thankfully, he pulled away from her. “Not now, sweetheart,” he said in a mocking tone. He pulled her after him, but she balked. She pressed all her weight toward the floor, but with one strong jerk of his arm he pulled her away.

  “Don’t,” he warned her. He gave a lewd grin. “I have a few things I need to do first, then… Well, you know the rest.”

  Rose glared at him as he pulled her out of the room and into the brightness of the warehouse.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Davis woke with a start. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead and his jacket clung to his back and arms. It was very warm in the tiny enclosed room he had fallen asleep in. It was hard to believe it was ice cold not that long ago.

  He sat up and took a brief moment to take into account just where he was, and what he was doing here. He remembered he was in Glen’s store and that they were waiting for Jason and someone named Slater to show up. Simon had kidnapped Rose and a kid named Aidan and they were trying to find them.

  So far, they were heading for a dead end. Davis let out a breath and ran a hand over his head. His hair was thoroughly saturated with sweat and he realized suddenly just how uncomfortable he was. He stripped the jacket off and let it drop to the floor.

  Davis stood up on shaking legs. He held a hand out to the wall near him to support his weight. He waited there until he felt he could move again then stepped out into the hallway. Everything had gone dark. He wasn’t sure just how long he had been asleep. He glanced toward the front of the store. It was dreary and gray outside. He looked toward the back.

  The door at the end of the hall was wide open and he could hear the clacking of keys. Every once in a while the typing was broken. A blue glow changed to green, then back to blue. Davis waited a few moments, just listening.

  Glen’s voice suddenly boomed. “Is that you Davis?” There was a squeaking and a rolling of wheels across concrete and Glen came into view in the doorway. Davis saw the Chinese food carton in his hand and the pair of chopsticks sticking out of it.

  “Welcome back to the land of the living. Sleep well?” Glen took another mouthful of what looked like noodles. Davis felt his stomach curl. He avoided looking directly at him.

  “Not really.” In the semi-darkness, Davis saw Glen’s brows furrow.

  “Something wrong?” Before he had a chance to answer, the blue glow that illuminated Glen’s face turned green and drew his attention away. He brought the rolling chair back over toward the computer. Davis stepped into the room and watched from the doorway.

  Glen hit a few keys and the screen changed back. “Damn it,” he muttered, with a slight shake of his head. “Thought I had finally found something.” He turned back to Davis and stared at him a moment.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Davis lied, finally answering him. He crossed his arms and leaned back on the doorframe. “I just didn’t sleep well, is all. Bad dreams, memories.”

  Glen nodded a few times. “I can relate. Want some Chinese?”

  Davis shook his head.

  “You sure? I got some Lo Mien noodles and some General Tso’s.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Fine, more for me.” There was just the slightest tone of bitterness in his voice. He dug into the noodles again.

  Davis remained silent. His gaze roamed over the disarray of Glen’s desk. Papers were askew where there had been none before. The pages were mostly text, but he saw a few familiar-looking photographs. He reached for one of them. He stared, shocked, at a mug shot photograph of Eric. He puzzled over it until Glen finally spoke.

  “Eric served time a few years ago. Assault with a deadly weapon. He got out on parole.” He tapped his chopsticks against his lips. “It seems he’s breaking that parole.”

  “Eric Reed…” Davis said softly to himself. He had worked for almost a year with the man and he had
never known his last name. He let out a slight scoff and tossed the paper aside. “Did you find anything about Simon?”

  “No. That guy is almost nonexistent. I found nothing on him.” It was Glen’s turn to scoff. “And believe me, I tried. It’s like he doesn’t exist. There are records of a Simon Conner I found online, but he died years ago. Not the same guy.”

  “Shit,” Davis said. “So what are we going to do now?”

  Glen placed his food carton on the desk amid the papers and pressed a few keys on the computer. “We keep trying. It’s all we can do.”

  “I mean, to find him.”

  “We wait for Slater and see what he knows. We’ll wait for Jason too.” Glen blinked, and looked down. He went silent. Davis’ nightmare and his waking thoughts burned in him. He had to say something.

  “Jason’s not going to make it. None of us are. Simon is—”

  “Simon is a werewolf.” Glen interrupted. His dark eyes stared up at Davis. He looked pissed. “I know what he’s capable of. He’s dangerous. But we have an advantage.”

  Davis was confused. An advantage? Before he could ask, Glen continued.

  “He doesn’t know we’re alive. He thinks we’re dead. Therefore, he won’t be expecting us.”

  “I never thought of that. So, if we find out where he is, we can do a surprise attack?”

  “That’s my way of thinking, yes,” Glen answered, with a slight chuckle.

  The knot in Davis’ stomach eased up a bit. There was hope after all. But something still bothered him.

  “But what about Jason? What if he finds Simon first? That’ll blow the surprise.”

  Glen nodded grimly. “I know. I’m hoping he doesn’t find them. If he does, we’re all dead.”

  “Yeah,” Davis agreed.

  There was silence once again as both men regarded each other with a growing respect. Davis was surprised to find how much Glen thought like him. It almost scared him. He let out a slight chuckle.

  “Actually, we’re dead anyway."

  Glen raised an eyebrow at him. Davis shrugged.

 

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