The Huntress (Lupus Moon Book One)

by Kevin Sorrell

  Until last night, when their pack lost a member. Kristen swallowed hard. She had no idea what to do or say, and it only fueled her pain and frustration. She wanted to help, but was ultimately powerless.

  Kristen hated that feeling. But she didn't have the answers. What were they going to do? What if this Alex person her father trusted so much was useless against those...lycas? And just who the hell was Alex, anyway?

  Bailey pulled away and sniffed at Jenny's bed, bringing Kristen out of her head. She stood and looked at several framed pictures on the wall. They hung in the same places they always had, occupying the space for so long they had become all but invisible. Kristen drifted to them, caressed their dusty frames with a trembling hand. She looked at them as if seeing them for the first time. Jenny by herself. With her family. Jenny and Kristen together... They were the memories of a person come and gone. Kristen gasped; new tears welled.

  Bailey exploded in a fit of barking.

  Kristen spun, startled. The dog was standing on his hind legs, fixated on something outside the lone window.

  "Bailey? What is it, boy?" Kristen asked. The dog ignored her, continuing to sound off. Kristen walked over and pulled back the drapes. She peered out.

  Her soul iced over.

  Carly, garbed in black, glared at her from the base of the driveway.

  Kristen jerked away from the window. She tripped over her heels and crashed onto the bed. She sprang up, mind reeling. What the fuck is she doing here? How did she know where to find me? Kristen glanced at her wounded arm. Alex's words came rushing back. If Carly was there because of her mark.. Kristen's mouth dropped. Her horror tripled.

  She bolted from the room, Bailey hot on her heels.

  Kristen stomped down the stairs, cut though the living room, and flew out the front door with the family dog. She curled her fists, ready to defend what was left of her best friend's family, even if it meant her certain death. She scanned the driveway, her breaths anxious, ragged...

  Carly was nowhere to be found.

  Baines rushed out to join her. "Kristen! What is it? Is everything okay?"

  Kristen turned to answer, but stopped short. Frank emerged onto the porch, zipping his fly.

  "What the hell is going on?" he asked. "One second I'm taking a piss and the next, it sounds like an earthquake!"

  "I-It was nothing," Kristen said. "I...I thought I saw someone I knew from school, but..." She turned back to the street. "I guess I was wrong." Kristen looked to Baines. He studied her. His face washed over with what Kristen knew was realization.

  Frank scoffed. Headed back inside. "C'mere, Bailey!"

  The dog hesitated, then uttered a small, frustrated whine and obeyed. Kristen and Baines noticed the canine's reaction.

  They surveyed the street one last time before following suit.

  FOURTEEN

  Alex didn't move as her stalker approached.

  The Glock remained trained, steady...

  Alex pulled a small, plastic packet resembling an evidence bag from her duster. She tucked the fur inside and sealed it.

  The stalker slowed; the pistol aimed for the back of Alex's head...

  "My mama used to say when you walk in a room, you speak."

  "That's true," Neliand said, holding the gun. "But how 'bout we save the pleasantries until you tell me who you are and what you're doing here?"

  Alex stood and faced the detective. "I could ask you the same thing. Then again, I know a pig when I smell one."

  Neiland's eyes narrowed. Alex tried to walk past, but Neiland grabbed her arm and shoved her back. "Not so fast," he said, pointing the Glock at Alex's chest. "Let's see some ID."

  "For what?" Alex said as she removed her shades. "Walking through the woods?"

  "Look, I'm serious. Ever since last month, we've had folks coming up here, treating this spot like it's a tourist attraction." Neiland gave Alex a once-over. "And I can definitely tell you're not from around here."

  "What gave it away? My skin color?"

  "Wh-What? No," Neiland stammered. "There's people like you here. I-I mean, you aren't the only..."

  "Relax, I'm just messing with you. You're too easy." Alex said with a chuckle. She walked up to Neiland, pressed her chest against his gun. "I'm here to fix your problem."

  Neiland's eyes shot to Alex's chest. "My...problem?" He raised his stare to Alex's. She didn't move. "Look, I don't know what you're on, but there's a rehab clinic in the next town. I could make a call, get you an appoint..."

  "They've been getting bolder, right? The attacks?" Alex stepped away. Neiland kept his eyes, and gun, on her. "What do you think really attacked these kids?"

  "If you're here, then you've heard the story. It was a bear."

  "Yeah, right. You don't really believe that, do you, detective?" Neiland's jaw tightened. He didn't answer, but it was all Alex needed. "Something evil's going on here," she said, moseying about. "I've seen it happen in other towns. Other states. I don't expect you to understand, but believe me, you don't want any part of it."

  "And you do?"

  Alex faced Neiland. "It's my job."

  Neiland raised an eyebrow. "I see. Tell you what. Why don't you come down to the station with me and tell me more about this...job of yours?"

  "Look, I don't have time for this," Alex said. "You can either believe me or not, but whatever you choose, stay the hell out of my way. You're treating me like the problem, but I'm your best shot at survival."

  "Maybe so, but I'm still taking you in." Neiland moved for Alex.

  Something buzzed.

  Neiland hesitated. Glanced at his pants pocket. He looked back to Alex, then switched his pistol to his left hand, reaching into his pocket with his right and fishing out his cell. He thumbed a button, cut his eyes at the screen. It was a text from Wallace:

  Another body. Chippenywa River.

  "Great," Neiland grumbled. He looked up. "Looks like I have to..." He paused. Dropped his arm...

  Alex was gone.

  FIFTEEN

  Baines guided his beat-up white pickup into the driveway of the parsonage. Before he could put the truck in "park" and kill the engine, Kristen hopped out and slammed her door.

  "Kristen!" he called out, shutting off the truck and climbing out. She marched for the front door while fumbling for her keys. "Kristen, honey, please!" She continued to ignore him, inserting the key into the lock. He walked up behind her. "Kristen..."

  "I don't wanna talk anymore, okay?" She said, wheeling on him as she pushed the door open. "I had to look the parents of my best friend in the face and lie about what happened to their daughter! You have any idea how dirty that makes me feel?" She vanished into the parsonage. Baines followed.

  "Sweetheart, I told you, it's for the best," he said, closing the door behind him and flipping the deadbolt. "If they knew what really happened--"

  "They'd panic. Yeah. That's what I keep hearing." She threw her purse onto the couch, stormed into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator.

  "It's the truth, Kristen. A panic is not going to help us now. The best thing we can do to help everyone is to keep this quiet until--"

  "Until what? You and this Alex chick hunt them all down and kill them?" She wrenched the top off the bottle and downed a few chugs. "And what's her deal, anyway? I know you trust her and all that, but something's just not right about her. She creeps me out."

  "Regardless," Baines argued, "working with her is the best way to handle this. As soon as we find out who the lycas--"

  "Werewolves."

  Baines inhaled sharply, trying his best to maintain a level head. She could afford to be hysterical, he thought. He couldn't. "As soon as we find out who the werewolves are, we can take them out."

  "But we already know who they are!" Kristen half-screamed, flinging her arms so hard that she spilled water on the linoleum and lower cabinets. "I told you, the boy was called Nelson and the girl was Carly!"

  "Yes, you did," Baines said with
a nod. "Now where do they stay?"

  "What?"

  "We have names, but we don't know where to find them." Baines took a seat on the arm of the couch and folded his arms. "You said they were older and didn't go to your school. Do you have any idea if they're from here?"

  "I dunno. I never saw them before."

  "Do they have friends?"

  "What? No, it was just the two of them!"

  "How do you know for sure?" Kristen stood in the middle of the kitchen, seething. She glared at her father, wondering why in the hell he was interrogating her. She also didn't have an answer.

  "Exactly," Baines said, looking at Kristen with just a glint of disappointment. He stood and walked aimlessly around the living room. Kristen marked his every step. "Werewolves tend to roam in packs. While there have been instances of one or two operating independently, it's fairly rare. More often than not, there are several more in the area. So, until we know more about what we're up against," he said, turning to look his only child square in her scowling face, "it's not a good idea to go after them half-cocked--or frighten others into doing the same."

  He turned and headed for the back.

  "And what about the Moorelands?" Baines paused. Looked over his shoulder. "Carly knows where they live now. She knows because she tracked me there. What if she's tracked me here and we don't know it? What if she and Nelson attacks us? Attacks Jenny's folks?"

  It was Baines turn to stare at her without an answer. Kristen was needing something from him. Confidence. Reassurance. He could offer neither. Kristen turned away and set the water on the counter, tearing off a paper towel to clean her mess. "I'm going out," she announced.

  The words hit him like a ton of bricks. "You will do no such thing," he said, walking over to where he was sure she'd see him. "Now that we have a confirmed lyca threat, you're not going anywhere--at the very least, not without protection"

  "You mean, like a gun?" Kristen said, standing. She had never so much as touched a firearm, content only to look at them when she walked by them at the sporting goods section of the store or when Baines took one of his shotguns out to clean it. Those types of weapons had never held sway over her and they weren't about to start now--lyca or not.

  "Of course not," Baines replied, suddenly regretting that he hadn't pushed his little girl harder to exercise her Second Amendment right. "I was thinking more like myself. Or Alex."

  Kristen's face pulled back in a sneer. "No thanks," she said, tossing the damp paper towel in the trash. "Last thing I need is you or her following me around."

  "Then you're not going anywhere." Baines crossed his arms, standing tall and authoritative. It was his go-to pose when he'd had enough of discussing something with Kristen and his decision was final. Deep down he knew that over time it would be less and less effective against Kristen, until one day, it would mean nothing at all. But he felt there was still some gas left in the tank, and if this wasn't a good time to use it, a better one won't come. He was wrong, however--

  The tank was already on "E." "You can't keep me here forever, dad," Kristen said, agitated. "What about school? Am I supposed to just stop going because of this?"

  "Kristen, you're being unreasonable."

  "No dad, you are!"

  "Kristen!" She blew past him, grabbing her purse and keys from the couch.

  "I can't be here all the time, like I'm in some kind of prison!" She threw up her right arm, showing her damaged arm. "I'm already trapped, remember?"

  "Just give us some time, sweetheart," Baines said, approaching. "This won't last forever. Trust me." He reached out for her, but Kristen pulled away, walking to the door.

  "I just need some air. I won't be long. I'll be back before dark. Way before." Baines stared at his little girl, seeing the pain in her eyes. He'd felt like he had already been losing her the last few months. He didn't want to do anything to push her further away. Yet his duty to protect her as her father tore at his soul.

  And then there was the knowledge that, one day, he wouldn't be there at all. "Daddy, please."

  Baines sighed. "Stay in areas where there's plenty of people. Make sure someone can see you at all times. If something happens, scream. Get away, find and adult, and call the police. You have your phone?" Kristen nodded. "Good." He walked over to his daughter, placed his hands on her slender shoulders. "Be careful. Come home safe." He pulled her into a massive hug.

  "I will, daddy," she said, fighting back tears.

  ***

  Hard rock music blared in the distance as Baines entered the church through the backdoor. He frowned and walked down a narrow hallway to the kitchen, where Alex was kicked back, her heavy boots resting on the edge of the weapons-covered table as she worked on the last page of a journal. The music was coming from her phone, sitting within arms reach.

  Alex dropped her feet to the floor when she saw Baines, tapped the phone a couple times to kill the music.

  "Not exactly our kind of music," Baines teased.

  "I know," Alex said, "but this place has great acoustics." Baines smirked, took a glass from the cupboard and filled it from the tap. He leaned back against the counter and downed a gulp. "Everything okay between you and Kristen?"

  "Everything's fine," Baines said. He failed to convince himself with that statement, so he knew Alex wasn't either. "We did have another fight."

  "I know," Alex said. "I heard. She is right about one thing, though--something definitely isn't right with me."

  Baines glanced at the table, saw a fresh, steaming teacup near Alex's phone. "You still taking it the same way?"

  Alex looked at him, followed his gaze. She sighed, went back to writing. "A little stronger these days."

  Baines nodded grimly. He took a seat next to Alex. "Kristen saw one the lycas at the Moorelands. She said it was the female, Carly." Alex tensed. Baines touched her arm to relax her. "She was gone by the time we got outside."

  "She tracked her by the mark?"

  "We believe so."

  "And you just let her go?"

  "I didn't have much choice," Baines said, leaning back. " I could take her keys, forbid her to go, but you saw for yourself exactly what would happen. I can't be there twenty-four hours a day. And I can't expect her to be there, either."

  "Then I guess we better take care of the problem," Alex said. She reached over to her leather coat, sitting near the edge of the table. She took the packet of fur out and tossed it in front of Baines. "There's at least three of them here. I found that at the site where those campers were killed."

  Baines picked up the packet and looked at the fur. He had unfortunately been right. He had never believed the bear story, but he never mentioned his suspicions to anyone, knowing they wouldn't believe him. He never visited the site himself because he didn't want his suspicion to become certainty. That would mean confronting something he'd tried so hard to get away from. "Any idea why they're targeting kids?" he asked.

  "I'm not so sure they are," Alex replied. "Could be convenience."

  Baines grunted a reply and handed the packet back to Alex, who stashed it back in her coat. He looked over the weapons spread out across the table.

  "I see you've upgraded your weapons," he said, picking up one of the P99s. "Guess you finally graduated from that old Magnum."

  "I still pack it," Alex replied, nodding in the direction of a small duffel bag on the far edge of the table. Baines reached for the bag and took out a black gun box. He looked at it for a moment, connecting with old memories before opening the lid and laying his eyes on a perfectly-preserved .357 with a polished wooden handle, resting peacefully in recessed foam. Six silver bullets occupied spaces of their own under the barrel.

  "You ever use it?" Baines asked.

  Alex glanced at the Magnum, her expression stoic. "From time to time. Just to change things up a bit. But not as much as I used to."

  "The classics always work," said Baines, closing the lid and sliding the box back in the duffel.

  "I know. That sho
tgun you pulled on me. That was the same one you used on your last hunt."

  "You remember."

  "I do," Alex said, a tiny smile disintegrating her drabness. "You laid down a lot of lycas with that baby."

  "Yes, I did," Baines said, standing. He walked to the counter behind Alex, leaned against it and stared out the window over the sink. "I never thought I'd have to use it against them again."

  "Best laid plans, right?" Alex asked, back to writing in her her journal. Baines studied her for a moment. He dropped his head.

  "I didn't want much." Alex paused, half-turning her head. Baines stared at the tile, slipping into his own head. "I just wanted to live a nice, normal life. The kind every other man has with his family. See my girl graduate and go to college, grow old with my wife--the usual. Thing is, I had it, too. I was well on my way. Until I stumbled into the woods that night and saw a man become a beast for the first time." Alex turned fully to look at Baines. He took a deep breath. Exhaled. "My life was never the same after that,--and my idea of normalcy, completely shattered. I mean, how could it not be after seeing something like that? Something so unreal, something so...unnatural." Alex glanced at the tools of her trade, instruments of death and destruction, scattered over the table of a place marked for peace.

  "It was one thing for me to get involved with Jeb and the others. Another when I met you," Baines continued, "but my family...this evil was never supposed to touch their lives. And when it did, and I moved what was left away from it, that was supposed to it. But I just can't escape it, can I, Alex? No matter what I do, I just can't get away from it, all because I decided to investigate some strange noises in the woods one night."

  "It would be nice if the world was just black and white," Alex said, watching the hand Baines was holding the glass in. He was gripping it tightly; she was afraid he'd shatter it and hurt himself. "But it's not. And sometimes, it's the various shades of gray that cause the most trouble. We can't change it. We can only cope with it."