Lycan Moon: An Urban Fairy Tale (Lycan Evolution Book 1)

by Rick Gualtieri

  “So what if they ask questions? Let them fucking ask!” At that moment, Ro was tempted to kick his ass and be done with the argument.

  “Questions like that take time. Time neither of us has right now, unless you’ve forgotten what’s almost here.”

  She hadn’t forgotten. The cycle of the moon was practically ingrained into her soul. Right then, though, she couldn’t have given two shits. “Cover your ass if you want, but I’m done playing with his life. Come on, Coop. Help me get him to the car.”

  “Rowan?” The weak voice came from the direction of the bed and all three heads turned toward it.

  Ro rushed to her father’s side, all thoughts of the argument forgotten. “Dad? I’m here.”

  “Rowan,” he whispered again, his voice barely audible. “My girl. My strong girl. I knew you’d find me.”

  “I never gave up, Dad.” Tears ran fresh down her cheeks.

  “Where am I?”

  “Safe for now,” she answered, her eyes briefly meeting Dean’s. “But we need to get you to a hospital.”

  “No. No hospitals.”

  “But...”

  “No hospitals,” he repeated in a tone much stronger than she thought him capable of in his state. “Too many questions. I’ll be fine.”

  “You were bitten, Dad. You nearly died. We had to restart your heart.”

  “I know. I may have almost died, but I’m not deaf.” He closed his eyes briefly, as if too tired to continue, before opening them again. “I don’t need a hospital. I just need to rest.”

  “You’ve been sick for weeks. You need proper care.”

  “You’ve done a fine job. Now mind my words.” He attempted to prop himself up on his elbows, but grimaced when he leaned on his bad arm.

  “No, Dad, lie back down. Like you said, you need your rest.”

  “No hospitals,” he repeated, his voice fading. “I mean it.” His head fell onto the pillow and his eyes closed.

  Fear lanced through Ro again, but Coop stayed her with a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, I think he just fell asleep. Poor guy must be exhausted.”

  She continued to stare down at him for several minutes, as if refusing to believe it was true. But it was. After some time, she forced herself to step away to the window, where she could see the moon through the trees. It was bright tonight even though it hadn’t quite yet reached full capacity.

  When she was a child, she used to think the moon was magical, that it brought with it all sorts of wonderful secrets, like exposing people for what they really were. Bad people became werewolves but good people, like her father, became hunters. They were protectors. The moon empowered them to help those who couldn’t protect themselves ... almost as if they were superheroes.

  But now she was grown and knew that the notions of good and evil were not so black and white. She glanced over at Dean. Though she couldn’t pretend to know what lay in his heart, she was pretty certain he wasn’t evil. His actions demonstrated that. He might have been a selfish, self-serving lout, but he wasn’t a bad guy. Not by a long shot. She was still pissed at him, but it would pass. Hell, most of her ire was probably the effect of the hunt being so close. Her senses were practically on fire.

  She ran a hand over her face. What the hell was she supposed to do? The full moon was tomorrow night. She couldn’t just leave her father, not when he’d been literally on the brink of death, to go werewolf hunting. But the pull to hunt was strong, like it always was when the full moon approached. It was ironic. In many ways, she was as much a slave to the moon as Dean.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  She wasn’t sure how long she stood at the window, listening to her father’s breathing gradually relax and then give way to soft snores. After a time, she heard footsteps behind her and turned slightly to see Dean approaching.

  “Look, I know you think I’m being selfish in keeping your dad here, but I’m just trying to be practical. We’re the best ones to say whether this treatment worked and if it’s going to last past the full moon. We need to monitor him until then. Coop can stay here and watch him closely while you go on your hunt. And if anything happens, he’ll let you know right away.”

  “What about the cell jammer?”

  “If it comes to that, he can turn it off to contact you.”

  “And you’ll be in your cage?” she asked in a low voice so her father wouldn’t be able to overhear in case he woke up.

  “Not my preferred place to spend the night, but those are my plans.”

  “I just don’t feel right leaving him.”

  He lowered his voice to match hers. “Look, I may be really stupid in telling you this, being a werewolf and all, but you should go. Your dad would understand what’s at stake and would want you to stop Strike from hurting anyone else.”

  “Yeah, Dad always did live for the hunt.”

  “I figured as much. When we first brought him back here after he was bit, he told us in no uncertain terms how much he hated werewolves.”

  “In exquisite detail,” Coop added from further back in the room.

  “How does he not know you’re one of them?”

  Dean nodded at the two of them to follow him out of the room. Asleep or not, Ro couldn’t blame him for not wanting to talk about this within earshot of her dad.

  Once they were all out in the hall, he closed the door partially and said, “Obviously I was in wolf form when I bit him. Coop was the one who found us in the alley. Your dad was unconscious by then. Coop tranqed me and somehow got us both back to the safe house we’d been using, all without the old man realizing what was going on.”

  “Wasn’t easy,” Coop added.

  Ro nodded. “You do realize he’ll kill you if he ever finds out.”

  “No kidding,” Dean said, “which is why I’m not telling him. I value my life.”

  “So I noticed.” After a moment, she added, “Sorry. I’m ... just tired.” She turned away, but could feel his eyes on her. The pull of the hunt was getting stronger, as were her senses. The effect left her on edge. She could feel the electric tingle practically pulsating within her at Dean’s proximity, the predator drawn to prey. The skirmish in the basement earlier had been merely an appetizer, and she was already starving for the main course. The pull was almost intoxicating, the feeling akin to the endorphins surging through her after a long run ... or really good sex.

  She drew in a deep breath, willed her body under control. What the hell was she thinking?! She was almost as bad as a wolf, lusting for the fight and the kill ... or just plain lusting.

  When she finally turned back to face Dean, his eyes had darkened. Was he feeling it, too?

  “I’ll take first watch,” Coop announced, breaking the silence. “He seems stable now, but we probably shouldn’t leave him alone for too long.”

  “No, I’ll do it,” Ro protested, but he waved away her argument.

  “You need your rest for tomorrow.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “I’m just a glorified babysitter for the pound puppy here. Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

  Her eyes met Dean’s for one final fleeting glance before she nodded and walked over to her room, multiple emotions warring within her.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Ro ran down the darkened path, heart racing, the creature too close. She tripped, tried to roll to compensate, but her shoulder hit the dirt hard and her gun was knocked out of her hand.

  It was upon her in one leap, its heavy weight nearly suffocating in the cool night air. She’d tried to run but it had found her. It always found her.

  The beast growled deep within its throat, the steady rumble menacing, the anticipation almost too much for her to bear. Why didn’t it just get it over with? What was it waiting for?

  Its face was only inches from hers, teeth bared, red eyes intent on her and unwavering. Tears began to fill her eyes, the shame of defeat even worse than the anticipation of death.

  �
�I’m sorry, Dad,” she whispered.

  The wolf seemed to hear her, his teeth no longer bared, as it moved away slightly and tilted its head as if considering its options. Then it did something even more surprising. It spoke.

  “Ro? Ro, wake up.”

  The voice was human. Dean’s. Ro blinked at it with disbelief and it repeated itself. “Rowan? It’s time to...”

  She awoke suddenly, flailed about, then felt her arm connect with something solid followed by an, “Oomph.” She looked down to see Dean on the floor, rubbing his jaw.

  “What the hell? You’re lucky I didn’t gut you.” She subconsciously felt for the blade beneath her pillow, assured herself of its presence, then relaxed slightly. “What are you doing in here?” She climbed out of bed as he picked himself off the floor.

  He tested his jaw as if to see that it still worked, then said, “Sounded like you were yelling or something. I just ... well, obviously you were okay enough to deck me, so I’m just gonna go.”

  “Dean, wait.” She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t want him to leave. Not yet. “I’m sorry I hit you. Though, in the future, you should know better than to sneak up on a hunter when they’re asleep.”

  “In the future?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Well, now I do anyway. Were you having a bad dream?”

  “I guess you could say that. I’ve been having them ever since...”

  “The night in the alley,” he finished for her.

  “Yeah. How did you know?”

  He stared at her, as if considering, and Ro had the crazy notion that he looked very similar to the wolf in her dream. Instead of answering the question, he said, “You dream about the wolf, don’t you?” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Yeah,” she answered with a sigh.

  “Are they always the same? These dreams of yours?” There was a quiet urgency to his questions, as if they stemmed from more than mere curiosity.

  “Sort of. I don’t know. I try not to dwell on them,” she lied.

  His eyes locked onto hers. “I’m chasing you in the alley, then I catch you, but I don’t kill you.”

  Her heart sped when he spoke the words, as if recounting the images from her own dreams. “Yes.” His description made it all seem so simple, so matter-of-fact, but the way his eyes bored into hers told her that he thought the dreams so much more than ordinary.

  “What would you say if I told you that I have the same dreams?”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Dean knew he was standing too close. He could smell her – shampoo and something else – a light scent above her natural musk. He could hear the hitch in her breath at his admission, could almost hear the way her heartbeat quickened within her chest. He could practically taste the pheromones rolling off her. He knew what she was thinking ... what she was remembering, because he had the same memories.

  “That’s impossible,” she finally answered, refusing to meet his eyes.

  “You have a birthmark on your chest, right about here.” He touched a finger to her left shoulder, dangerously near her breast.

  “You do realize how close you are to getting slugged again, right?” she said without much conviction, her eyes wide. Surprisingly, though, she didn’t push him away.

  He gave a knowing smile. “You know I’m right.”

  As if remembering where she was, she finally broke contact with him and stepped away from the bed. “And what if you are? What does it prove? Maybe you’re just a peeping Tom.”

  “It proves that we share some sort of ... connection. Something about that night changed both of us. We just have to figure out what. And why.”

  “A connection? You realize how crazy that sounds?”

  “And yet here you are, talking to a werewolf.”

  “Point taken. But even if you’re right, this connection, whatever it is, it doesn’t matter.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Am I? My dad’s alive. That’s all that matters to me right now. The full moon is tomorrow and as soon as the hunt is over, we’ll be out of your hair. Out of your life for good.”

  He shook his head with a wry laugh. “Well, then it’s a good thing you’re far too annoying to be missed.” As she sputtered, he turned to leave. “Try to get some more rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Unless I see you in my dreams first.

  17

  Dean checked the welds on the cage for the fifth time. They were as solid as they’d been the last four times. There was no way he was getting out, not unless he accidentally left a bulldozer in there with him when it was time to change.

  Speaking of which, he again glanced at his watch. It was getting late. His skin had felt like it was rippling for the past three hours. Not critical yet, but soon enough.

  Where the fuck are they?!

  He’d known what Coop had made a run for – meat, and a lot of it. The fresher the better, all to keep him occupied. Apparently, his wolf was a beef snob. Didn’t seem to like anything that had been frozen.

  I swear, I was some rich lady’s Shih Tzu in a previous life. Had to be.

  But why did Ro insist on going with him, now of all times, when his change was so close? Wasn’t she the one who’d demanded access to his security measures so she could conduct her own assessment? Wasn’t she the one who was skeptical when he’d told her that they had it covered?

  So where was she now? If he didn’t know better, he would have thought she and Coop had a thing going on. After all, she’d been accompanying him with increasing frequency over the week.

  That’s a hell of a lot of quickies.

  Coop, however, had informed him that it had been for the purpose of trying to dissuade her somewhat persistent admirer.

  That, or she was coordinating with the other hunter.

  He tried to push that thought away, but it wouldn’t go easily. The thing was, she’d given him her word. Though he had no way of knowing if a hunter’s word was worth anything more than a pile of wolf shit, he’d chosen to believe her. Doing otherwise seemed like a slippery slope toward paranoia.

  Besides, it wasn’t like she hadn’t had the opportunity to kill him a dozen times on her own during the course of the week. If she’d really wanted to, she could have ended him easily.

  Okay, enough of that.

  He took a moment to remind himself that he really didn’t need either of them there for the change. He was more than capable of locking himself up.

  However, he definitely would feel better if Coop re-checked everything and made certain there were no mistakes. Despite his previous escapes inadvertently giving him access to hunter blood, he had no intention of getting out again. Just because he’d gotten lucky in the past didn’t guarantee he wouldn’t wake up one day to find himself surrounded by bodies.

  He thought of his parents, how they’d been mauled to death. It was bad enough it had happened to him. He wouldn’t allow himself to ruin any other lives because he was too sloppy to double-check things.

  Dean glanced down at his hands and noticed they were shaking. It wouldn’t be long now. Where the fuck were...?

  He caught the sound of movement – feet descending a flight of stairs.

  A few moments later, the heavy security door opened further and in walked Coop, carrying with him a heavy bundle that had started to leak through the wads of butcher paper wrapped around it. Ro followed a few steps behind.

  Despite letting out a silent sigh of relief, Dean laid into them. “So nice of you to remember what day it is.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I had some things to take care of.”

  Her vague answer raised his hackles even more. “I appreciate your devotion to your Twitter audience, but maybe you could pick a better day to snap selfies.”

  Coop let out a chuckle as he stepped past Dean and into the cage with his bundle.

  “And what’s your excuse?”

  Ignoring Dean�
�s tone, Coop unwrapped the bloody bundle and spilled out the contents in the corner. “You know the drill. We have to cycle butchers. Don’t want anyone getting suspicious when I show up once a month demanding almost half a side of bloody beef.”

  Dean nodded ruefully. He did understand and hadn’t meant to snap at his friend. The wolf’s attitude was definitely starting to become dominant.

  “That’s a lot of meat,” Ro said, apparently unfazed by her own dressing down. “Where do you put it all?”

  Coop stepped out of the cage, crumbling up the butcher paper. “Let’s just say that you might want to avoid the second floor bathroom for the next couple of days.”

  Dean rounded on him. “Seriously?!”

  Coop, however, wasn’t so easily dissuaded. “Just giving our guest a friendly PSA.”

  “With a healthy dollop of TMI,” Ro added sourly.

  Dean turned to her. “So, what kind of ‘things’ did you need to take care of?”

  “Hunter business. That’s all you need to know.”

  The wolf reared its head again and it was all he could do to not tear into her, literally. He restrained himself, though, and asked through gritted teeth, “Are we talking about me, or...?”

  “Relax,” she replied. “Los Colmillos. If the information you gave me is any good...”

  “It is.”

  “If it’s any good,” she continued, “then with any luck you’ll have less of them to worry about come morning.”

  “So you’re still going through with it?”

  She folded her arms across her chest and stared up at him. In doing so, he couldn’t help but notice she’d exposed the tiniest bit of cleavage. He felt the wolf stir within him for a moment, or at least he thought it was the wolf, and quickly turned away to pretend to study the cage again. “It’s risky,” he said, his voice descending to a near growl.

  “What part of my life isn’t?”

  He glanced back at her and their eyes met. Despite her flippant tone, for the barest of instants he saw that same vulnerability he’d seen that night in the alleyway, but then she quickly steeled her gaze.