Rafe nodded. “He’s an independent—didn’t get too involved with the politics of the pack and never really swore allegiance to my mom.”
Finn raised his eyebrows. “I’m surprised your mom let him stick around. She struck me as an all-or-nothing kind of woman.”
Rafe grimaced. “That’s a pretty polite way of putting it.”
“I’m a polite kind of guy.” Finn put his arms behind his head.
“You’re a tool.” Rafe shot back.
“That’s Mr. Tool to you. You’ve got to show respect for your betters,” Finn replied lazily, not at all offended.
“Anyway,” Rafe said, ignoring Finn’s creaky attempts at humor, “Mom kept hoping she’d get Shane to come around.” From Rafe’s voice, Finn knew exactly what Samara meant by coming around.
“I take it Shane never did.” Rafe shook his head. “So he’s been reporting back to you?”
“Not really. I mean, he only calls to let me know if something’s up. There aren’t a lot of hyenas left in my old territory, but there are still a few troublemakers. Shane keeps an eye on them, but so far everything’s been quiet.”
“Until now.” At Rafe’s nod, Finn grinned. “Sound like it’s time for a road trip.”
This sounded just like the thing Finn needed to distract him from the lack of his lady in his everyday life. A little mystery, a short trip up the panhandle, a new town to scope out. He was going more than a little stir crazy in the house, runs on the beach notwithstanding. He didn’t like admitting it, but he missed his brother and his cousin more than he missed Laila. He’d grown up with them, and with a very close-knit family. Being on his own was strange and unpleasant for him.
Finn knew that he wasn’t exactly alone. Kess was here and so was Rafe, and occasionally another wereleopard or two would drop by. But Kess was solitary by nature, and Rafe—while good company— was in high school most days. Finn was used to a constant roar in the house, to people coming and going, to loud voices and boisterous laughter. Everything was so quiet and still most days that he thought he was going to lose his mind.
“You want to come with me?” Rafe asked, clearly not trusting the werewolf’s intentions.
“Sure.” Finn gestured at the pool. “There’s nothing exactly urgent keeping me here. We’ll run it past Kess, get the car, and have ourselves a little vacation.”
“Vacationing in the armpit of the universe is not exactly my idea of fun, especially not when it includes trooping around a mosquito infested lake because some stupid hyena got lost.” Rafe’s mouth turned down in a frown.
Rafe’s white trash hometown wasn’t exactly going to be a thrill for Finn either—he’d much rather run down to the Keys or over to New Orleans to see Laila—but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “Come on, it will be fun.”
“For who?” Rafe asked sourly.
“For someone not us,” Finn conceded. “But it’s better than being bored.” He stood up, wrapping his towel around his neck. “I’ll go see what Kess is up to.”
“No pranks!” Rafe called after the werewolf as Finn opened the sliding glass door that led to the main house. “This is a business trip!”
Finn didn’t dignify that with a response.
Chapter Six
The next morning, Finn was talking to Kess about taking the one of the cars and heading out to investigate Shane’s hyena concerns when Rafe’s cursing broke the relative peace of the house. He smiled slyly. He checked his watch wondering how long it would take Rafe to make his way into the kitchen.
Kess looked at Finn dubiously. “What did you do?”
Finn tried to look innocent. He was pretty sure he failed utterly, but it sure was fun to try. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The wereleopard rolled her eyes, indicating her disbelief. Finn settled his arms on the kitchen island and waited, putting his finger in front of his lips to shush Kess.
“Pudding!” Rafe shouted, barreling into the kitchen, brandishing one of his sneakers. “Dude! You put pudding in my Chucks!”
Kess raised a brow at Finn, who tried to look ignorant of the accusation. “Finn…”
“What? I didn’t do anything!” he protested.
“What flavor pudding?” Kess asked him.
“Vanilla.” Finn furrowed his brow. “Why?”
Rafe barked a triumphant “HA!” and waved the shoe at him. “I knew it!” He dropped the shoe on the island in front of Finn. “You owe me another pair, man.”
Finn grinned. “Wish I could have seen your face!” he chortled happily, imagining it.
Kess heaved a sigh. “Are you two finished?”
“Finished?” Finn asked, incredulously. “We’re just getting started, right Rafe?”
Rafe grinned. Finn was glad he was getting the kid out of his shell, and he was more than happy to have someone to play pranks on. He thought he might miss his brother, Burke, but Rafe was serving as a welcome distraction from any homesickness the werewolf might have experienced otherwise. The hyena was a joy to torment, and the kid tried to give back as good as he got.
“Payback’s a bitch,” Rafe said, nodding.
Kess threw her hands up in defeat and left the kitchen.
“What’s with her?” Rafe asked, watching her leave.
“Who knows,” Finn said, completely unconcerned.
“You get the car?” Rafe asked, dropping the question of Kess.
Finn nodded. “Grab your stuff. We’re going on a road trip,” he said enthusiastically.
“It’s really not all that exciting.” Rafe said with an amused grin.
Finn waved away the young man’s words. “Exciting is where you make it.”
* * * * *
“Dude, I thought you said this would be exciting.”
Finn watched as Rafe rolled his eyes. The werehyena answered defensively, “I didn’t say that. You did.”
“Well, I was wrong. This blows.”
Finn and Rafe walked Rafe’s old neighborhood cautiously. It was dusk, the light fading into russet shading at the horizon. The streetlights—the ones that were still working—began to glow as the pair ambled down the street. Finn gave Rafe a curious glance, wanting to see how the young werehyena was handling being home.
Rafe slouched along with his hands shoved into his pockets, but with his head held high. Finn shrugged. He looked like a normal teenage kid to him, not really bothered by any kind of emotional turmoil.
“So you used to live around here?” Finn hadn’t ever seen the house where Rafe grew up.
“Yeah,” Rafe said, jerking his head to the left. “That house over there. The shitty little yellow one.”
Finn stopped to take a look. The front yard was made up of dirt and dead grass. The house was a small ranch affair with a gravel drive. The gutters sagged in a number of places and the stucco planters that lined the front of the house were full of weeds and the desiccated corpses of plants. One of the front windows had a broken glass pane, so a board had been put up to cover it. No lights were on; not surprising since no one lived there anymore.
“Ah.” Finn wasn’t really sure what to say. “Um, it didn’t look like that when you lived there though, right?”
Rafe took a moment to survey the place, then answered. “There were usually more beer cans in the yard.”
Finn let the matter drop. “So this Shane guy lives out here?”
Rafe shook his head. “We’ll get to Shane later. There’s someone else I want to check with first.”
“Why? What do you think you’ll find?”
“Information.” Rafe took another look up the street, his topaz eyes narrowed. “Shane—he’s the guy that called me about the strangers in town and the missing hyena—is a good guy to go to, but he’s not hooked into the remaining pack like some others that are still around. Maybe they know more.”
“You sure he’s not overreacting?” Finn hoped this trip hadn’t been a wild goose chase.
“He’s not the type. He was alwa
ys pretty steady. If he’s thinking something’s off, then it doesn’t hurt to pay attention.”
“And you think just walking down the street is going to drum up this information?” Finn had serious doubts about Rafe’s detecting skills.
“Yeah, I figured we’d just wander around until a clue falls from the sky as if sent by God.” The werehyena rolled his eyes. “Seriously? You think I’m that stupid?” Finn opened his mouth to reply, a wicked gleam in his eyes, when Rafe said, “Don’t answer that.”
“Okay, fine. So what are we doing?”
Rafe didn’t answer, just kept leading Finn down the block. Eventually they stopped in front of a cinderblock ranch in only slightly better condition than Rafe’s old house. Rafe dodged around old bicycles and random yard detritus on his way to the front door. He tried the doorbell, but it gave an anemic buzz, so he knocked twice on the door.
“Oh, this doesn’t scream please murder me at ALL,” Finn muttered as he joined Rafe on the stoop.
“Shut up,” Rafe hissed as the porch light came on. The light bulb flickered, its days numbered.
It took several minutes for someone to answer the door. Finn gave Rafe the stink-eye as they waited. Rafe raised his shoulders in a what can you do? gesture. When the door finally opened, it revealed a bitter looking woman old enough to be Finn’s grandmother. The years had weathered her, wearing away most of the unnatural beauty possessed by all werehyenas, but Finn thought he could see a shadow of the hottie she once was in her bone structure.
“Hi, Ms. Colleen. Can I speak to Audra?” Rafe asked.
Ms. Colleen gave Finn a sour look before eyeing Rafe up and down, almost as if she didn’t believe it was him. “What you doing back here? Thought you left with that fancy woman for Miami.”
“I did,” Rafe said, ducking his head a little. “I came back to check out some things.”
“Like my granddaughter?” the old woman said tartly.
Finn could swear Rafe reddened a bit. “No ma’am. Just wanted to talk about what’s been going on in the neighborhood lately. You know, try and catch up.”
They waited while the old lady made up her mind. Finn was beginning to think the arctic ice floes were going to melt and refreeze by the time she made her decision when she finally invited them inside. “I’m Finn, ma’am,” he said, as he entered the small foyer.
“I didn’t ask,” she returned, leading the way into the house. “Audra! You got company!”
“Be nice,” Rafe whispered, digging an elbow into Finn’s stomach.
“I am being nice,” he countered, rubbing the spot absently. “It’s not my fault she’s an old crank.”
The sound of uneven footsteps echoed against the tiled floors at the back of the house. Rafe gave Finn some kind of pointed look that the werewolf didn’t understand, then took a seat at the kitchen table that Ms. Colleen waved him to. Finn followed.
A girl, probably only a little older than Finn, limped into the room. One leg was shorter than the other, explaining the limp. But her problems didn’t end there. She also had scars that swiped along her jaw and neck, disappearing underneath the collar of her t-shirt. Again, she had the supermodel looks of the other werehyenas Finn had run across, but they were overshadowed by what had been done to her.
“Hey Audra,” Rafe said quietly.
Audra turned stiffly to look at the two of them seated at the table. She made no move to join them, just kept standing in the doorway of the kitchen and the back hall. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice full of suspicion and not a little bit of menace.
Rafe raised his hands. “I just came to talk, that’s all.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you. You betrayed your own pack!” she sniffed, her flat gaze turning to Finn. “Is this one of them? One of those leopards you sucked up to and sold your pack out for?”
“Hey now,” Finn said, looking from Rafe to Audra, “I don’t know what’s got your panties in a bun—OW!” Rafe had kicked him under the table.
“He’s not a leopard,” Rafe interrupted. “AND, he’s not important.” Rafe sent a sideways glare in Finn’s direction. “Look Audra, I just came to see if you’d heard anything about anyone disappearing from around here. That’s all.”
She cocked her head. “Like you care.”
“I do. Believe it or not, I don’t want anything else to happen to the people who live here.”
What exactly was between these two? Certainly nothing romantic, but there was a history there. One that Rafe was trying to trade on to get information. Finn nodded to himself. Maybe he’d misjudged the kid.
Audra lowered herself carefully into a chair, wincing in pain as she awkwardly folded herself up to fit. “Still hurts like a bitch.”
“Teresa didn’t do anything by halves,” Rafe replied.
“Neither did your mother.” Audra’s eyes glittered in the little light that filtered in from the window. She nodded at the scars that ran down Rafe’s cheek.
Finn stared, amazed. Teresa had been Rafe’s sister, and Samara’s second in command. He was amazed the old lady had even let them inside the house if Teresa had been involved with Audra’s scars. Finn wished he could have a talk with Rafe about what the hell was going on, but figured he would just have to wait.
“So you hear anything?” Rafe leaned forward. “People going missing, and not like in leaving town, but missing like in gone?”
Audra looked down at her hands. She was quiet for a few minutes, as if debating whether or not to talk to Rafe. Finn nudged the werehyena, but Rafe ignored him. When she spoke, her voice was soft and almost had a hint a vulnerability to it. “I’ve heard some things. Rumors mostly.” She looked around for her grandmother; finding her gone, she continued. “A few of the tougher hyenas that moved in after Samara left haven’t been seen around. And one of the independents hasn’t been seen in at least a week.”
“And you’re sure they couldn’t have left town?”
Audra shook her head, a lock of brown hair falling into her face. She shoved it back behind her ear. “Not likely. They had put down roots here. And they didn’t take anything when they left, not that there was ever much to take. But you get my point.”
Rafe nodded. “Where did these guys hang out? They have any friends that are still around?”
Audra eyed him nervously. “I don’t think you and your buddy over there should head over to the place they hang out. Unless he’s way more of a badass than he looks.”
Finn resisted the urge to smile. Instead he just nodded at her to continue. He hoped he looked like the strong and silent type. She rolled her eyes. “It’s your funeral.” She turned back to Rafe. “It’s the Eight Ball, that gin mill just at the edge of town.”
Rafe’s eyebrows rose. “You’re not hanging out there now, are you?”
Audra snorted. “You kidding me? I’ve got enough scars, thank you very much.” She stood up painfully. “That it? ‘Cause that’s all I got. You know the way out.”
Finn followed Rafe out of Audra’s front door. They had walked to the end of the lot and had just hit the sidewalk when Finn couldn’t contain himself. “Okay, what was the point of that exercise?”
Rafe said, “Audra and her grandmother know most everything that goes on in this town. If they don’t know about it, it’s not worth knowing. I figured they’d have some idea about the disappearances.”
“What’s with her?”
Rafe cut his eyes over at him. “You mean the attitude? Or the scars?”
“Both.” Finn would be lying if he said he didn’t want to know about them.
Rafe ran a hand through his shaggy hair. This time his hair was cut that way deliberately, not because he’d been neglected and forgotten. Finn had forgotten for a second how much the kid had in common with Audra. “She hates my family—no big surprise there. Audra used to run with Teresa’s crew, but then they turned on her for some reason. I never found out why and Audra won’t talk about it, even now. Anyway, the girls nearly kille
d her—she almost lost a leg and was in the hospital for weeks after.”
“I figured something like that may have happened.” Finn wasn’t an idiot and the subtext between Rafe and Audra had been so obvious that it could almost be called text. “Did she give you anything to go on?”
“Not much. And I’m not sure we’re properly equipped for the Eight Ball.”
“How bad can it be?” Finn had been in plenty bars up in the mountains. Some were a little rough, but he’d never had a problem before. He was the kind of guy that could get along anywhere.
Rafe gave him a wary side-eye, but said nothing.
Chapter Seven
Finn told himself that the next time his companion said they weren’t properly equipped to go somewhere he would listen. If his body wasn’t found in a shallow grave somewhere, that is. At this point, he wasn’t entirely sure if that was outside of the realm of possibility.
The Eight Ball was so far beyond the kind of dive bars Finn was used to as to almost be from another planet. This was a blue collar biker bar, not some college beer bar. The floor was dusty from the dirt that came from construction sites, brought in by countless pairs of work boots stepping over the threshold. The music was mostly old rock and country. The furniture was wooden, scarred, and full of large, unpleasant-looking men. There were a couple of pool tables in the back, all with games going.
The men who populated the place—because there wasn’t a woman to be seen, not even behind the bar—wore work clothes: flannel shirts over stained and singed white t-shirts, heavy work pants or jeans, or biker gear. A lot had the weathered look of those who are out of doors in the hot sun. A few looked like human jerky.
None of them looked remotely friendly.
He wished he’d worn something a little more rugged and a little less likely to get his ass kicked. His cargo shorts and faded t-shirt were fine for hanging around the house in Miami, but in this joint they looked ridiculously out of place. He should have worn leather. Maybe something with rivets. Or possibly studs.
Hunter Moon (The Moon Series) Page 4