Shadow of the Moon: A Fantasy of Love, Murder and Werewolves

by Kwen Griffeth

  Is this how it felt prior to a hunt?

  He struggled to focus and match her all-business manner.

  “Can I offer you a drink? Hot chocolate, or water perhaps?”

  She shook her head, “No, thank you.”

  He was having trouble gathering his thoughts. He was having trouble breathing. He wondered what it would be to taste her lips, to touch her skin, and he couldn’t repress a smile.

  “Did I say something funny, Professor?”

  “No,” he managed with a shake of his head. He fought the image of him taking her on his desk, right here and right now.

  “Is Miranda feeling any better?”

  He nodded, looking at her lower lip. It was full, sensuous, luscious. He wondered if she’d ever been told it was pouty.

  “She’s getting stronger every day. She would have come with me today, if I’d let her. I think a few more days of rest will be good for her.”

  The woman arched her eyebrows and remarked, “As we all know, it is your opinion that matters most.”

  He scowled. He canted his head and studied her.

  “You and I have to talk,” she said.

  A wave of tiredness washed over him. Bitterness settled in his stomach, and he heard it in his voice.

  “Of course we do,” he said, “that’s how I spend my days. I explain things to my mother. I defend my actions to my niece, and now I get to discuss undoubtedly those same things with you.”

  He sat down and waved her to the chair close to the desk. She shook her head, refusing to sit. He shrugged, placed his elbow on the desk, and rested his jaw on the closed hand attached to the elbow.

  “Discuss away,” he sighed.

  “Did you visit with my boss, Special Agent Hubbard, and request I be removed from the Ferreira investigation?”

  “I had a conversation with Hubbard,” he answered, never wavering. “I found him to be an overbearing little man, but amenable to suggestions.”

  “Did you tell him to remove me from the Ferreira investigation?”

  Her anger intrigued him. The blood rushed to her cheeks and added a hint of rose. Her eyes, brown, now appeared to have an ebony to them. Her lips, oh those full and tempting lips, quivered from the tension that surged inside her.

  He sat upright and allowed himself to lean back into the depth of the chair. He looked at the woman he knew he could never have and anger replaced the desire in him. He spread his hands in mock surrender.

  “We may have discussed the investigation, and your part in it.”

  She leaned onto the front of his desk with one hand and pounded the desk with the palm of the other.

  “Don’t play games with me!” she shouted. “Did you, or did you not, tell my boss to remove me from the investigation? Did you, or did you not, interfere in my career?”

  He motioned to a chair, “Would you care to sit?”

  “No. I would not.”

  She remained standing.

  He grew bored with her drama.

  “Answer my question,” she demanded.

  “Yes,” he said, nodding. “Yes, I spoke with Hubbard. I did not tell him to remove you from the investigation. I expressed concern for your safety and asked him to address that. If you remember I asked you not to return until...”

  He hesitated, then continued.

  “Matters were resolved. I invited you to remain at the estate. You refused.”

  “You have...,” she started.

  His eyes hardened, and as if a dagger of ice was lodged in her chest, her talking stopped. She focused on getting her breath.

  “You asked me a question,” he continued, his tone of voice devoid of feeling. “Don’t interrupt me. Allow me to answer it.”

  He took a deep breath and held her with his eyes. She felt she was pinned in place as if she was an insect in a display case. He continued, his voice modulated.

  “It is obvious you put no stock in the oath you and I exchanged.”

  “I’m sure you remember the oath. You took it with Miranda and my mother? If you had listened, really heard, the words, you would realize I am well within my responsibilities, and, more so, my obligations, as the Lloyd Unum to request actions of you. It is not expected, nor required, for you, or anyone else to always agree with my requests. It is only expected they be carried out.”

  “Because, you being you and being a man know all and everything and us poor little women just have to...”

  “No.”

  That single word carried with it a growl of threat, of anger. His patience was gone. The ice in her chest ran cold into her legs and she seemed to lose strength. She moved to the chair and sat down. She recognized the fury inside the man.

  He continued.

  “Without pack unity, family gets hurt. In this case, it was Miranda. But the wolf was tracking you. Miranda just got caught in his snare.”

  Color drained from her face. Tears formed, she blinked them back. Her lips quivered.

  “She was hurt because of me?”

  “She was attacked instead of you. She presented a target of opportunity. In a manner of speaking, she saved your life. You would not have survived the attack.”

  Andee’s ego rose a little and she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “You saying she’s tougher than me?”

  “No. The wolf wants to kill you, and if he had the chance, he would. He only wanted to claim Miranda.”

  A scowl creased her forehead.

  “Are you… are you saying she was raped?”

  “Yes, she was raped. And impregnated. She’s carrying a child.”

  Andee’s expression softened. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

  “Of course you didn’t know,” Alwyn said quietly, “you were there instead of here.”

  “Even so,” Andee said, her voice subdued. “She doesn’t have to be punished with the child. She can terminate the pregnancy. There is no reason why this should dominate the rest of Miranda’s life.”

  Alwyn shook his head, “She will not terminate this pregnancy.”

  Andee studied him and then asked, “And who are you to decide if Miranda keeps or terminates this unplanned and unwanted pregnancy? Are you serious, you would advise her to keep this child? Tell me you won’t force her to keep it.”

  “What happened to Miranda is ugly,” Alwyn said. “It is many things, but we can agree it was ugly.”

  “We can agree on that,” Andee nodded.

  “The child is not ugly, only the action that created him.”

  Andee looked at him.

  “We can agree what happened to Miranda is criminal, can we not?”

  Andee nodded, “Yes, it was a crime.”

  “The child did not commit it. The child is innocent.”

  “That may be, but why should your niece have to be punished for the rest of her life?”

  “Why should the child be punished by the loss of his life?”

  “How can you be so superior when it is your own family, your niece involved? She is the one going through this. Can’t you support her?”

  “I am the Unum. My role is not one of superiority, but one of support. I am supporting my family and my niece. I am also obligated to support and protect this unborn child. He is blood of my blood. He is a full wolf. We are an endangered species. We don’t kill our own young.”

  “You had no qualms about killing Ferreira. Wasn’t he full wolf?”

  “Ferreira was not a child, and he certainly wasn’t innocent. He forfeited his life. There is a difference.”

  “How convenient,” she snorted. “You get to qualify what life is worth saving and what life is not. You are the most egotistical man I have ever met. You disgust me.”

  She stood and took one step in the direction of the door.

  “Sit down.”

  He did not shout, but the strength of the command and his growl reverberated in her chest. She glared at him. He glared back. She sat down.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “You think I
am without feelings, but you are wrong. If we were a recognized species, biologists would label us at risk for extinction. But we are not. We don’t kill children who are full wolf, born or unborn. We can’t afford to.”

  He hesitated only for a moment.

  “You insult me with your comments. You have no idea the torment I feel. The anger I feel. The guilt I feel for Miranda being in this condition. If I could end it, I fear I would. Miranda would fight to the death to save the child. She’d be willing to die, if need be, to save her unborn son. She’d be willing to kill, even me, if necessary. You do not understand our ways, Agent Trakes.”

  She said nothing.

  “You do not listen, and therefore refuse to comprehend. The Unum is not a position of command, nor of orders. It is a position of protection, of caring for the family, the entire family, including those not yet born. I’m not just talking about Miranda’s baby. I’m talking about generations from now. I am to protect them and make sure, if I can, there is a place for them, even after I am gone. It is a position of example. That is the only authority I have. Example. There are things expected of me. Things I now wish were not, but they still are. I can’t change those things.”

  Again he stopped, and this time, he studied her before he continued.

  “You and I exchanged oaths. Mine was to protect you and yours was to accept that protection. Since I cannot lock you in a root cellar, something that was done in years past. I am correct in expecting you to follow my instructions, as my directions are given with your best interests in mind. Given with your protection in mind.”

  “You have no right to interfere with my job, my career,” Andee shot back.

  He shrugged, “Your job is immaterial to me when compared to your safety.”

  “How overbearing and obnoxious of you. My job is who I am. My job is me.”

  She stood. He watched her.

  “My mistake,” he sighed. “I thought you were so much more.”

  “Go to hell.”

  He shrugged. He refused to show her the torment he felt. He refused to give in to the urge to reach over the desk, grab her and hold her for time immortal. He simply sat, deep in the chair and watched her.

  “What do you want of me?” he finally asked. “Why are you here?”

  He leaned forward, placed his forearms on the desk edge and interlaced his fingers.

  She stared down at him. She wanted to grab the sides of his head and hold his face to hers. She wanted to cover that smug expression with kisses until he begged for mercy.

  “I don’t want anything from you, professor. As long as you stay out of my career, we have nothing more to discuss. I was sent to interview you to see if you could offer insight or ideas into the killing of a diplomat’s son. On behalf of the FBI and the Federal Government, I thank you.”

  “Then,” he said, “I guess I will see you some other time.”

  She shook her head.

  “I don’t see why you would. I don’t think we’ll cross paths very often.”

  She turned and started toward the door. He watched her back and allowed himself to fantasize himself standing, clearing the desk, grabbing her, and holding her. He’d refuse to let her go. But he did none of those things. He watched her depart.

  At the doorway, she turned back and leveled her gaze at him.

  “One piece of advice,” she said, “you are a college professor. You are not a law enforcement officer. Allow the professionals the time they need to track down and capture the person who attacked Miranda. It might be tough for your male ego to sit back and suck it up. You’re not prepared for chasing bad guys.”

  “You mean the way Meeker was prepared to chase the bad guy?”

  His comment slapped her.

  She fought to catch her breath and in that moment her rage boiled over.

  “You self-righteous son-of-a-bitch. You sit up here, behind your desk and pretend you are someone important. Do you have any idea how ridiculous you and your family are? What was it? Did an ancestor of yours get hung suspected of being a werewolf? Or a witch? Is that the pull to play this game you all play?”

  She glared at him, silently begged him to joust with her, to argue, to prolong the conversation.

  He said nothing. He stood, but remained behind the desk. He looked at her, as if determined to remember her face, then he shrugged.

  “What you believe is none of my concern. I am simply telling you what is. Remember, Agent Trakes, you came to me asking for assistance. You asked for my expertise. Now, when you don’t like my answer, when it doesn’t fit into your preconceived notion of how the world is, you want to reject it out of hand. You pretend it is not valid. Moreover, you want to ridicule and belittle. You only cheapen yourself.”

  She wanted to fire back. She wanted him to feel the pain she felt, but she saw no anger on his face, just sadness. She couldn’t bring herself to kick a downed man.

  “I wish you the best, Agent Trakes. Please be careful. The ‘man’ you and your law enforcement professionals are after is unlike any other man any of you have ever, and I mean ever, dealt with. He is more vicious, more deadly than you can even comprehend. He lives for the enjoyment he feels when destroying lives. You have no idea what you are about to tackle. If you are lucky, you will never find him. I don’t think you will be that lucky. Please be careful, Andee.”

  He kept his eyes locked on hers. He stepped around the desk and crossed to her.

  He’s coming to stop me from leaving. He’s going to rescue us, she thought. She was wrong.

  At the doorway, he reached for the door and closed it. Him on one side, her on the other.

  The wolf stood on the edge of the tree line and watched the Lloyd estate. He was aware of the shadows and made sure to stay in them. He was confident he would not be detected even if someone looked directly at him. He was a predator and good at hiding. He was good at hiding and patient while waiting. He knew how to hide and wait for the time to make the kill. He smiled. This kill would be sweet.

  He was careful to stay downwind. He wanted to be able to scent them, not the other way around. As he searched the breeze to identify who was in the house, he looked over the grounds. The surroundings caused jealousy to rise in him. He had seen gardens this fine before, but never ones owned by wolves. He felt the sense of family, something he had never known, and the jealousy rose to fever pitch. He smiled again. He would make this his family. This would be his estate. He would walk his gardens. He’d already claimed the redheaded woman. She had been luscious. He’d claim her again, several times. He needed nothing more than to kill the old woman, an easy task. And kill the son. Not so easy, he decided, but doable, definitely doable.

  He glanced toward the sky, focused on the clouds. He’d felt the wind shift. Not a big shift, but enough that he was now at risk of being detected. Odds were they would not detect his scent. They were city wolves. Wolves trying to be human. Weak wolves. Hadn’t he walked up to the redhead without her realizing he was there? Wolves trained in survival wouldn’t be that easy to stalk. These were weak wolves, easily killed, easily attacked. Still, caution was his nature and he slid back into the trees, deeper into the shadows and away from the estate.

  “There’ll be another time,” he quietly promised himself.

  Alwyn sat at his desk, his head down, and tried to rub the tension from his fist. He milked the balled hand with the fingers of the other. It was of little use. The muscles and tendons in his forearms ached and his chest refused to draw full breaths. He replayed the argument with Trakes in his head and cursed the way it ended.

  “Damn her,” he muttered.

  He fought the urging from the wolf. Just once he wished to give in to it and let it run wild. Never, not once in his life, had he allowed the wolf to run wild. Now would be the time. He continued, his voice modulated. Run wild, chase down and kill rabbits, goats, sheep, anything that got in his way. He cursed under his breath and decided to run. At least he could take a run.

  He changed int
o his gear, a set which he kept at the office. It was just over eight miles to the house, and he’d made that run several times. Maybe he would be more in control when he got there.

  He came through the back door and walked to the kitchen. He opened the door to the refrigerator, removed a plastic bottle, opened it and drank. He gulped with his head back, the plastic collapsing and water running the sides of his throat. He finished, and without looking, tossed the empty into the sink. He started on number two.

  Anna watched. She sat at the counter and watched her uncle consume the water. Between gulps of water, he sucked in air with the same determination. She wondered where he had been. She watched the rivulets of sweat run the length of his legs. She watched as it dripped onto the floor and with a replenishment of liquid, the sweat increased. His shirt was soaked, front and back, his hair was wet and slick with the stuff. She had seen him like this before, but she had never noticed the scrapes on his exposed legs, or the cuts on his arms, or the sticks and small branches with leaves stuck to his clothes.

  When the second bottle was close to empty, he turned and looked at her. She felt he had not seen her until that moment. His eyes were sharp, and she wilted slightly as she wondered if she’d done something wrong.

  “Where’s your aunt?” he asked between breaths.

  “Upstairs,” she answered. “What’s wrong?”

  He drank again and emptied the second.

  “Where’s Miranda? Is she upstairs as well?”

  Anna nodded, and she fought against the uneasiness in her stomach. Alwyn didn’t behave like this. It wasn’t like him.

  “Yes,” the girl answered, “I think everyone is inside the house. What’s wrong, Alwyn?”

  He removed his shirt and with the use of a wet dish towel, started to wipe the sweat from his arms and legs.

  “I ran home from the school this afternoon, and I caught the scent of a stranger in the woods behind the house. I added another four miles to my run. I crisscrossed the woods trying to find him. He was gone, but he’s been up there, and I’m sure more than once. He’s been watching the house. He’s been watching us.”