Bad Moon Rising

by Loribelle Hunt

  He set her coffee down, picked up his laptop, and sat at the desk in the back corner. Might as well get some work done. The rogue wolf was still at large and still a mystery. He went through his mental file on the Society while he waited for the computer to boot up. This one didn’t fit any known profiles that he was aware of, but there were too many who were unknown to the hunters. They had long suspected that the Society’s numbers were much larger than previous estimates. Running across an unknown rogue seemed to confirm that belief. Of course, the rogue could be a lone wolf and completely unaffiliated with the Society. Trey suspected that was the case.

  He signed on line and tried to ignore the temptation a few feet away. The tension was beginning to ebb from her body, and he watched fascinated as she moved in graceful, economical strides about the compact kitchen. A sign that she was starting to relax around him, or that she could tune him out while she worked?

  He turned to the computer, typing the name of the hunter database in the browser. After going through its security log in he went back to his search of known Society members, checking MOs against the current killings. He’d read them so many times they were memorized, and nothing new jumped out at him. He turned to the message boards, but there was no new information there, either.

  He had one lead, a message on his voice mail from the real estate agent who’d sold him his house, that she’d rented a house on the lake yesterday. The need to check it out warred with his need to stay and guard Tara. He had no reason to suspect the outlaw was still around or that she was in danger, and blamed it on his newfound protective streak. He clenched his jaw. As long as she kept the doors locked it should be safe, but would she do as he asked?

  “I need to go check something out for a case I’m working on,” he said softly, watching her jump.

  She turned to face him from a large mixing bowl, a strained smile on her face.

  “Sure,” she answered, arching an eyebrow. “I don’t know why you’re here anyway. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  He packed away the computer, slinging the strap over his shoulder.

  “I want you to lock the door behind me,” he said, waiting beside it. “Don’t let anyone in.”

  “I always lock it when I’m closed. That’s just good sense.”

  “Good,” he whispered, running the back of his knuckles along her cheek. He was rewarded by a gasp and flash of desire in her eyes. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

  “And I’m supposed to let you in?” she asked with a slow smile.

  “Oh yeah.” He laughed. “You’re always supposed to let me in.”

  He caught her lips in a lingering kiss, one that promised a long night of passion. He forced himself to step away before tonight became right now.

  By the time he pulled down the long dirt road to the house the agent directed him to, dawn’s pink and orange streaks were creeping over the horizon. He didn’t bother to conceal his approach The house’s occupant would expect a visit from the local enforcer. The name on the lease was a fake, but he'd called the agent before coming over and her description of her new renter left no doubt in Trey’s mind of his identity. The question was, why was another pack’s alpha here in Darius’ territory?

  Trey parked the car, got out, and looked around. It was a rundown bungalow with a front porch stretching along its front. The yard, though recently cut, was weedy, the flower beds nothing more than dirt. The front door opened and a tall lean man stepped out. A predator, he leaned against the rail with his arms crossed over his chest, projected a casual air Trey knew was nothing but pure bravado.

  “Wondered when you’d show up,” he said.

  “What are you doing here, Jackson?”

  Jackson laughed. “Right to the point. Retiring hasn’t mellowed you any, huh?”

  Trey arched an eyebrow and walked up the steps to the porch. Did he need to mellow? No one had ever dared suggest such a thing. He was always the picture of tranquility, always centered. Until Tara upset his equilibrium.

  “No point in beating around the bush, is there?” he asked.

  Jackson laughed again.

  “Come in and have some tea. I’ll explain everything.”

  “Tea?” he said with a wince, following him into a tiny spare kitchen.

  “Sorry,” Jackson snorted. “You’re the only werewolf I know who drinks coffee.”

  “Why are you here?” Trey grimaced at the cup, taking a drink of the tea.

  Jackson ignored the question. “So you’re the enforcer?”

  What the hell was going on here? He'd talked to Jackson that night, after the council had banished their friend.

  “I’m whatever Darius needs me to be, for the good of the pack,” he answered coolly. “Surely you’re not challenging his authority in his own territory?”

  Jackson stiffened in reaction to the quiet demand in his voice, and Trey smiled. According to their laws, Trey could not be alpha, but he would answer to any illegal challenges made against Darius and they both knew what the outcome of a fight between them would be. Jackson stood little chance. Trey let the hunter in him rise to the surface, calmly ready to leap for his old friend’s throat.

  He backed down with reluctance, an alpha visibly struggling for control. His clenched hands loosened their hold on his mug, and he took a slow, calming breath. Trey watched the changes with mild interest, his mind wandering to Tara. He blinked and snapped his attention back to the small kitchen.

  “Why are you here, Jackson?”

  “We were friends once, the four of us,” he said.

  Trey snorted. “How far did you expect that friendship to go when Brant died and you both claimed the pack?” He added curiously, “What did you think would happen?”

  “I thought Darius would accept my leadership,” he said agitated, moving to the teapot.

  This time Trey laughed.

  “No you didn’t.”

  “Ok, maybe I didn’t. But I didn’t expect for you and Eric to both follow him here.”

  He raised his hand before Trey could respond to that.

  “That’s not important. I don’t want to see Darius fail. I came to see if I could help.”

  Trey stretched his legs in front of him and leaned back to cross his arms over his chest. The idea that a hunter, even a retired hunter, needed help was absurd. That he, the most famous hunter in a generation, needed help was ludicrous.

  “Does the council know you’re here?” he asked, careful to modulate the suspicion out of his voice.

  “Just Anthony,” he said reluctantly.

  Ah, things began to fall in line. He nodded.

  “There’s a message?”

  Jackson gave him a curious look, but he knew better than to poke his nose in hunter business. He shook his head. “No message. Only suspicion, and a warning to watch your back.”

  Trey waited for him to continue.

  “There are rumors that the Society is organizing some kind of move against us. Against the council.” He shrugged. “And you have some unknown rogue in an area that has been free of all werewolves for a couple of generations.”

  He studied the signs few would see that betrayed Jackson’s agitation. There was something else going on here.

  “What else?”

  “You don’t miss much, do you?” he asked with a short laugh.

  Trey shrugged, hiding his suspicion behind an image of nonchalance.

  “Darius won’t be happy to find you here.”

  “Surely Darius will accept the willing assistance of a fellow pack leader,” Jackson said coldly. “I’m not here to challenge him. I just as soon solve this little problem and go home.”

  “Maybe,” Trey said. “There’s still something you aren’t telling me, though.”

  “I was…drawn here,” he finally answered. “You and I are the oldest of the four of us to still have no mate.”

  Trey blinked, surprised at the change in the conversation, and felt a tick start in his jaw. The need to find and prot
ect a mate trumped every other instinct of their kind. He lifted an eyebrow, silently urging Jackson to continue. The wolf walked to the window and Trey wondered if he would continue to explain.

  “Eric met Mary shortly before the council met. By all accounts, Darius has met his mate here.” He laughed. “I’d like to meet the woman who could tame Darius.”

  “I doubt he wants you to meet her,” Trey said dryly.

  “Probably not,” Jackson turned, grinning.

  “And what about you, Trey? Like I said, we’re the oldest, you and I.”

  Trey went still while Jackson studied him. Finally he nodded.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Tara.”

  “I’m glad for you.”

  He opened the backdoor, sniffed the air.

  “There’s something about this place. I know my mate is here.” He shot Trey a fierce look. “And I’m not leaving until I find her.”

  Silence fell while Trey considered how to present the situation to Darius. None of them were going to test the instincts of a werewolf hunting his mate, and he was pretty sure he now knew all the reasons for Jackson’s presence. There was no question about letting his old friend stay.

  Still. “You could be wrong. Could just be wishful thinking.”

  “I’m not,” Jackson said softly.

  Trey stood and pulled a business card out of his back pocket, leaving it on the counter. It was time to go.

  “Don’t approach Darius until I have a chance to warn him you’re here. And why,” he said as he left. “I’d hate to have to explain to the council why I let you two tear each other apart.”

  Chapter Six

  Tara was gone when Trey woke, and he felt a moment’s panic before shock coursed through him. He never panicked. Grunting, he made his way to her tiny shower. He’d be glad when he could relocate her to his house. One, it was bigger, and two, he was less jittery there. And the nerves thing was going to drive him crazy too.

  Some werewolves chose to live in cities and towns. He was used to spending small amounts of time in those environments working as a Hunter, but it was never a comfortable experience. Humanity pushed in on him even in a town as small as this, but he had no choice as long as Tara fought the pull of the mate-bond. He stayed where she did.

  Later in the kitchen, he checked the time and was amazed that he’d slept so late. His internal clock never let him go past five, no matter how little sleep he was operating on. It was a measure of his comfort with the woman that he could sleep so deep. He poured coffee, smiling and letting the memory of last night flow over him. Who knew she would add so much normalcy to his life? Who knew normal could be so appealing?

  He’d taken her out to dinner. A first, and this was a woman who enjoyed food. He’d watched her, entranced and surprised at how sensual the act of eating was, hard as rock for the two hours they’d lingered in the restaurant. Which was better? Enjoying her company there, or getting her home and getting inside her? Something he’d managed two steps into the front door. The memory had him growing harder by the minute.

  He forced his mind back to his job, annoyed with his unruly body, and after assigning one of the werewolves to keep watch over her, left the house. He had a rogue to find, nothing to go on and was getting nowhere fast. A run was what he needed and maybe some time spent cleaning up the disaster of a house he’d bought.

  It was a short drive, and less than ten minutes later, he stood in the yard facing the place. It was a two story Victorian with wide porches around three sides, but more importantly three ways out and surrounded by woods. It was sound, but cosmetically an out of date wreck. He was looking forward to the challenge of bringing it back to life, but first things first. He stripped in the yard, tossed his clothes to the porch, and shifted. Muscle and bone contorted and changed shape, and seconds later he lifted his snout and breathed deep. Embracing the strength and wildness of the wolf, he loped off into the forest.

  He ran full out for an hour, before slowing to a walk better suited to explore. He’d made a big loop, ending up back in his neighborhood and went about getting to know it inside and out. By the time he’d worked off most of his frustration he was running behind schedule. He took a quick shower and hurried back to town. He was relieved to find he’d not only beat Jackson to O’Reilly’s, but Darius and Eric too.

  He found a table in a dim corner of the bar, sat with his back to the wall, and waited. Darius and Eric arrived first and joined him in silence. He accepted a beer from the waitress and waited for her to leave with their orders before speaking.

  “Is there any particular reason we’re having this meeting?” he asked Darius.

  “Other than to find out why he’s here, you mean?”

  “We know that already.”

  Darius shrugged. “So I want to hear it from him.”

  The waitress showed up with their beers and the table fell silent again. He was relieved when he caught a glimpse of luxuriant looking brown hair. It would be unlike Darius to pick a fight with Jackson while Meg was around. More like a truce. Maybe the memory of their lifelong friendship had finally asserted itself.

  They turned as one when the door opened. With amusement Trey noted the tension level at the table ratchet up a few dozen degrees. You’d never know they had instigated this meeting. Jackson approached with pure alpha bravado and Darius bristled. Trey bit back a laugh. When he sat, Jackson slid an envelope to Trey and turned to study the other two. Trey lightly tapped the edge of the envelope against the table with affected boredom. It looked to be an interesting show. Darius finally spoke after the waitress had delivered an unrequested beer to Jackson.

  “You told Trey why you’re here. Now tell me.”

  He was surprised when Jackson started talking instead of arguing, though it was obvious he’d prefer a fight. His jaw ticked and under the table his fists were clenched. He was uncomfortable with his back to the door and fidgeted.

  “Anthony thought maybe you’d like some help, and he sent that this morning.” He nodded to the envelope in Trey’s hand.

  “Why’d he send it to you?” Darius asked.

  Trey would like to know the answer to that himself.

  “Apparently, no one has a permanent address for any of you,” he answered sardonically.

  He grunted. Probably true. He and Eric very recently purchased homes. Darius moved in with Meg. They were buying everything that came on the market on that corner of the lake. He looked at the envelope. It had the hunter insignia pressed in wax on the back lip. He slit it open, and his eyes made a quick scan the contents in disbelief. Folding it up, he put it in his pocket and caught Darius’s eye but before he could fill him in the door opened again.

  "Fuck. What's he doing here?" Eric muttered.

  Gage Rylon sauntered over, grabbed a chair from a nearby table, and pinned Jackson with a hard gaze that would scare the hell out of most of the people Trey knew, and it should. Jackson had the sense to look wary.

  "Gage," he said.

  "You shouldn’t be here, Jackson. Does anyone else know you came?"

  "Anthony. He sent a message for Trey."

  Gage cocked an eyebrow and looked at him.

  “Hunter spies report that the Society has put a hit out on me.”

  Darius laughed, but stopped abruptly when he didn’t join in. “You’re serious?”

  Trey just looked at him. He never joked. Darius swore. Gage, curiously, said nothing.

  “We have a problem then.”

  Trey raised an eyebrow. “I have a problem,” he said, emphasizing I. “And it’s nothing I can’t deal with.”

  Darius narrowed his eyes, and Trey noted with amusement that Eric and Jackson tried to subtly slide back. Nobody wanted to get between Darius and Trey if it came to a fight, and they all knew Darius would lose. The only one at this table that could beat Trey was Gage and he didn’t retreat.

  “You aren’t a hunter anymore. You’re a member of my pack. A mated member of my pack,” he remind
ed Trey.

  He hadn’t taken that into consideration, but it didn’t change anything. He’d deal with the rogue on his own, and he would protect his mate. Frustration rolled through him. He couldn’t drag Tara along on his hunt for a rogue wolf or Society assassins. The realization that he would have to accept help was painful, and Darius saw the moment he reached it.

  “It’s a pack thing. Remember?”

  He’d been on the outside of the pack for so long, he didn’t remember. This is what he’d wanted right? To belong to the pack again? But it was uncomfortable, making his way back to the inside. He was saved from trying to frame a reply by the door opening. Tara's scent encircled him first, and he saw Eric stiffen too with recognition of his own mate. He met Trey’s gaze.

  “Did you know about this?”

  Trey shook his head, drinking her in. The last time he’d seen her she was wrapped around him and the memory rocked him. In her usual jeans and tank top uniform, she carried take out bags to the far end of the bar where Meg greeted her and Mary, Eric’s mate, with a hug. The three of them settled in, completely ignoring the table of men in the bar’s front corner.

  Trey found the display of independence amusing rather than the aggravation he felt rolling off Eric in waves.

  “Tara did say something about lunch with the girls. I didn’t know it would be here,” he told his beta.

  Jackson and Gage watched curiously.

  “So who’s who?” he asked and listened while Eric pointed them out.

  "Why are you here, Gage?" Darius asked.

  Trey would like the answer to that himself, and he knew whatever he said would only be part of the truth.

  "You didn’t really think you two were gonna be let loose with no oversight, did you?" And more than anyone else, Gage would want to take their measure. "You'll be seeing me again over the next few months."

  "Watching for us to fail?" Jackson drawled and Trey kicked him under the table. Shook his head. Jackson threw him a startled look which wasn’t surprising since he didn’t have clue who he was dealing with. Gage just smiled.