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Luna Junction 2 Forbidden Mate (W)

Page 2

by Sage Domini


  The world stopped spinning for an instant. Maturity had deepened his voice but I recognized it instantly. Slowly I raised my eyes and saw a gruff man’s face, and beneath that the shadow of the boy I had known. “Gideon,” I whispered.

  He released me suddenly and stepped back, running a hand through his sandy hair. The door to the café opened and two pale faces peered out. I recognized old man Hoffman and one of his daughters. They both looked to Gideon and he nodded. “I’ll deal with her.”

  Hoffman frowned. “Your brother ain’t going to be happy.”

  Gideon spat. “When is Michael ever happy?”

  Hoffman disappeared and Gideon glared at me. “You gonna be good now?”

  There wasn’t any plan to rush toward him pell-mell with my limbs striking out in all directions but there I was, and howling like a banshee besides. Gideon stumbled in surprise for a moment but subdued me easily, turning me bodily around, his arms in a vice grip across my chest. I panted and struggled for a moment, then went limp.

  “Don’t do that again,” he breathed fiercely in my ear.

  My teeth were clenched as I tried to slip free from his grasp. “Let me go, you lousy son of a bitch.”

  Gradually his grip relaxed until I could free myself. I spun around, disconcerted by the feel of his warm chest on my back. I crossed my arms defiantly and glared at him as he calmly removed a pack of cigarettes and from his pocket and lit one.

  “That your car?”

  “So what?”

  He took a long drag on his cigarette. “So it won’t take long for word to get out that you’re back. Michael’s the sheriff now.” He exhaled a cloud of smoke. “You need to leave.”

  I recalled Gideon’s brother, Michael. He was eight years older and cold as they come. For whatever reason he had taken an instant dislike to me as a child and I didn’t relish a confrontation with him. But I still didn’t understand what I had done wrong. “Is it against the law to enter a restaurant in mighty Michael’s Luna Junction?”

  Gideon’s glare was toxic. “It is for you, Jaeger.”

  And with that my defiant resolve deflated. I had to admit I’d occasionally entertained ideas about what would happen if ever I ran into Gideon Casteel again. Such fantasies usually involved a lot of knee crawling and groveling on his part. That sure as hell wasn’t happening. So I forced myself to stand tall and told Gideon what I’d longed to say to him for six years. “I hate you.”

  He took another drag on his cigarette and then dropped it on the gravel, grinding it out with his boot. “I know.”

  Gideon crossed to the threshold of the cafe and waited, staring at me. The meaning was clear. I was not welcome to enter.

  I struggled to take a deep breath. I would be damned if Gideon Casteel would see me cry. I turned on my heel and walked stiffly to my car, not turning back, and not glancing once in the rearview mirror as I drove away.

  Chapter Two

  Max was correct. I had not forgotten where the house was. Home was a modest two bedroom bungalow where I had lived happily for the first thirteen years of my life. It sat at the end of a lonely road with only one other home nearby. It was occupied by my father’s longtime friend, Eddie D’arcangelo.

  The place looked as if no one had spent much sweat on upkeep. Still, I was grateful for the familiar feel of the key in the lock and the homey interior which was still decorated with my mother’s small touches. I stood in the empty front room for a moment and listened to the gentle ticking of the cuckoo clock. The place was as quiet as ever this far off the road. I assumed that, besides Eddie, our nearest neighbors remained a half mile away. And after that odd clash in front of the café, it seemed unlikely the Casteels would come calling anytime soon.

  My stomach reminded me how it had been unfairly neglected so I headed for the small kitchen. A moment later I was sighing into the nearly empty refrigerator. The lone apple looked as if it had been hanging out there since the last presidential election and a quarter inch of milk was all that remained in the open jug.

  The bread bag on the counter still held a few stale pieces so I sat down on the dirty tile and hungrily shoved it my mouth, washing it down with some tasty chlorinated tap water. I hoped Max planned on doing some shopping himself because I wasn’t too jazzed about risking any further meetings with the illustrious residents of Luna Junction. It was a good thing I was already sitting because my knees weakened at the memory of Gideon’s rough hold on my body. I scowled, angry with myself for even the most fleeting rush of feeling. I’d meant it when I said I hated him. He seemed unsurprised anyway, even matter of fact.

  I flashed back to the proud, cocksure look on his face in his online roster photo. That guy seemed to have little in common with the grim, disheveled brute who’d manhandled me in the center of the town. I sniffed. If I cared even an ounce I might wonder what had gone wrong for him in the last year. Well, I wasn’t exactly living up to anyone’s expectations either. Least of all my own.

  The side of my face had begun to throb and I was pleased to discover an ancient bag of peas of the freezer, which I pressed against my swollen jaw. I stood in front of the small window above the sink and gazed into the bare yard which had once been my own personal wonderland. Though it was June and the height of the growing season, the clearing which had once been lined with my mother’s lush vegetable gardens was nothing but dirt and weeds, as if there had never been anything else.

  The squat grey shed caught my eye. How many cold mornings had I trudged out there to retrieve the archery equipment for tiresome drills under my father’s watchful eye? He was an expert marksman himself, but seemed to take no pleasure in teaching me. I must have asked a thousand times why. A bow and arrow weren’t exactly modern weapons of choice. So why was I practicing to be Robin Hood in an age of Rambo?

  The answer was always the same. “In case you’re needed.” No other information was ever offered. I knew only that the hour of practice was in that scant time between the first wisps of sunrise and the disappearance of the moon. And I was never to discuss it with anyone.

  Fresh in my mind was how I had yearned to hold a bow as my body sensed imminent danger just before Gideon hauled me out of the café. I removed the bag of peas from my face and tossed it in the sink. I’d had enough of being bullied. It may be a meager weapon but it was the only one I knew how to use. Once I’d been good. I wondered if I still was.

  Max still kept everything in the same place. I shouldered a sleek bow and gathered a handful of arrows. In my other hand I carried one of the homemade targets, pleased that it was already covered with paper. I placed it at the far end of the yard and counted thirty paces. The bow was stiff. I relaxed my fingers and exhaled. The arrow sailed right over the target. I frowned, lowering the bow. Instead of a bullseye, the target center was shaped like a heart in the middle of a snarling animal shape. I did not take my eyes from the stenciled red heart as I loaded another bow. As I aimed with care, something clicked in my head and my fingers released, sending the arrow straight into the heart of the target.

  That same sense of fear traveled along my spine and the hair on the back of my neck rose. I gasped as I spun around. I didn’t know how long the man had been watching. He stood a good hundred yards away and I couldn’t see his face but I knew he regarded me intently and somehow I also knew he meant harm. Carefully I lace another arrow into the bow, though I kept it pointed down. I would not raise it unless he moved closer.

  The man seemed to shake his head and I squinted. There was something familiar about him. When he finally turned and began walking slowly away I studied his shape and realized I’d been staring into the hostile face of Michael Casteel.

  He disappeared in a matter of seconds and I stood there, listening to the sounds of summer and feeling vaguely uneasy. The bow and arrows remained with me when I finally returned to the house.

  My bedroom seemed pretty well unchanged from the last time I saw it. The bed was still bare, having been hastily stripped of its cover si
x years earlier. Scattered possessions were strewn about, the things I had neglected to bring with me.

  Carefully I set the bow down next to the bed and lay my head down on the cool mattress. The springs creaked mildly as my body settled heavily in and I closed my eyes. It was the most comfortable I’d been in a long time. I slept and this time it was dreamless.

  I sensed someone in the room before I opened my eyes, though I didn’t feel that earlier kick of alarm. My father’s silent figure was scarcely visible as he sat in my old desk chair and stared out of the dark window.

  Yawning, I rose on one elbow. “What time is it?”

  He ignored the question. “I’m sorry, Artemis.”

  “You know I only go by Acie now.”

  “In this house you’ll go by your real name. Our mistakes began with your birth. We should never have tried to raise you here.”

  The fatalistic tone of his voice was making me uneasy. “Well, here’s as good a place as any, isn’t it?”

  “No. Artemis you just need to listen now. When you were little we thought perhaps the calling would skip you. Sometimes that happens. Even your mother isn’t strong. We stayed here even through the troubles. Ah, that terrible thing with the Landon woman still haunts me even though the guilty party paid dearly. I made sure of it. For a while it seemed the families and the hunters would never reconcile.” He sighed deeply. “But there was you. You played with their children and ran through their yards. The Council was keen on keeping the peace and demanded that we stay.” His cough was hard and painful. “I knew on the morning of your thirteenth birthday, when I caught you shooting in the backyard, for once without being hounded to practice. You were perfect. I saw the confused fear in your eyes because you didn’t know why the people you’d known all your life suddenly terrified you. It didn’t help that the Casteel boy was coming of age as well. He was growing into what he was always meant to be, as were you.”

  None of Max’s word made sense to me. And yet, they did. I asked the question, fearing the answer. “And what is that, Daddy?” I whispered.

  His tone was wry. “You are your father’s daughter. As I am a hunter, you are a huntress. We have only one form of prey and we have for centuries watched, protecting humanity, intervening when we have to.”

  I didn’t have to protest or insist on the impossibility of his strange story. I already knew it was true. Only one question remained. “And just what is it we are supposed to hunt?”

  “Luna Junction is a unique community. I know you’ve figured out that much. There are some of us, the hunters. The rest are them, the werewolves.”

  Chapter Three

  Werewolves. I had accepted it even before the meaning fully sunk in. I had been told the unspoken truth of what I’d already known. The five families, Gideon, all of them. They didn’t hate me. They were afraid of me. However, the results were remarkably similar.

  I put my head down and wept for a long time while my father awkwardly stroked my hair. I swatted his hand away. “You should have told me.”

  He sighed. “You think I don’t know that? We had hope, Artemis. We said to hell with the Council and put you first for once when it became clear that you felt the calling and that everyone in town knew it. It was the wrong thing to do. I don’t know what the right thing would have been. I’m sorry. Look, it’s all I’ve got at this point. I can’t undo the past but maybe now, knowing the truth, you can start fresh.”

  I wiped the tears out of my eyes. “Where?”

  He shrugged. “Does it matter? Wherever you want. Your whole life is ahead of you. You aren’t beholden to Luna Junction.” A bitter pause. “Not like I am.”

  “Daddy,” I shook my head. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

  The ensuing silence was deafening. “You can stay here for a little while. I’ll smooth things over in town. The leaders won’t be eager to cause trouble, though I heard about your little run in at the café.” He paused. “That boy didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  I snorted. “No, he finished doing that years ago.”

  Max chose his words carefully. “I know how close you once were to the Casteel kid. But you need to stay away from that family. Michael Casteel isn’t like his father. Tom Casteel was a fair man, a good sheriff. But Michael…his hard streak runs deep.”

  “Don’t worry,” I mumbled. “I don’t have any desire to see another Casteel for the rest of my life.”

  Max shifted position and looked toward the kitchen. “You must be hungry.”

  I smiled. “Starving.”

  “Well, come on. Old man Hoffman felt a little bad about the way things went down. Brought some burgers over to the store. Even cooked them completely.”

  “Come again?”

  “Werewolves like their meat on the rare side.”

  “You sure it’s not poisoned?”

  He laughed softly. “No, I’m not.”

  The food smelled heavenly. I could not recall how many hours it had been since my last full meal. I peeled the bun back carefully but all I saw was a benign delectable hamburger. I shrugged and took a large bite, figuring if the Luna Junction werewolves wished to do me in, there was probably a more effective way than lacing a hamburger with antifreeze.

  Max sat down at the chipped table, watching me carefully. I closed my eyes for a moment, briefly recalling the warm security of sitting across from my father for every evening meal. It had been a long time.

  He cleared his throat, beginning to speak and then changing his mind. I reluctantly put the hamburger down. “Tell me the truth. Are we in danger?”

  “No,” he answered quickly. “Artemis,” he sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. “There’s so much you need to understand, I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “How do they do it?”

  He knew what I meant. “It’s just a part of them. They reach adolescence and the wild beast emerges. It’s a controllable trait, if the carrier is a blood wolf. The Luna Junction families are all blood wolves.” He paused. “Then there’s the bitten.”

  I swallowed another mouthful of food. “The bitten. That has an ominous ring to it.”

  He nodded. “It is ominous. A mortal bitten by a blood wolf under a full moon will soon bear the wolf’s curse.” His eyes were solemn. “Only the transition is unnatural. Violent, and unpredictable. The blood wolves will always pose some risk. How could they not? But the bitten are uniformly menacing.”

  “And what are we?”

  “We, daughter, are mere mortals. With a few abilities. There’s some lore behind it but it really just amounts to rumor. Supposedly we have some blood wolf in our veins, going back untold generations.”

  I thought about each inexplicable shudder of dread which had ever overcome me at odd moments. All this time I assumed I suffered from anxiety or paranoia. “This is fucking real, isn’t it?”

  Max nodded. “It is, honey. I’m sorry.”

  I gave a terse laugh. “Well I guess I can toss out my meds now. Because I’m not crazy after all. I’m just a huntress. Of werewolves. One of which is my former best friend. And apparently everyone I grew up with. All a pack of goddamn fairy tale hairy beasts.” I began to cackle uncontrollably, finally falling out of my chair.

  My father knelt in front of me. “Artemis,” he said sternly.

  I shoved him away. I wanted to scream at him, to let him know how my life had been nothing but sordid confusion ever since I turned thirteen and was whisked away from my home and denied access to the truth. But there was only so much blame I could throw on my misguided parents, on the residents of Luna Junction, on Gideon Casteel. I was the one who squandered opportunities, dropped out of school, allowed men to use and abuse me. I couldn’t bitterly shriek like a wronged child because I no longer was a child. Instead I could only sob.

  “Daddy, I’ve just been lost for so long.” And my father held me and cried with me on the floor of the kitchen until we exhausted our combined grief.

  Chapter Four
/>   Night was still thick when I awoke. I thought I’d heard a deep mournful howl but it could just as easily have been a dream. I crossed my small bedroom and opened the window, peering out. I half expected to see glittering wolf eyes glaring back at me but there was only darkness. Distantly I saw a light in Eddie D’arcangelo’s tiny house. Max had confirmed that Eddie was another hunter. He had headed to Eddie’s for a while but the soft snoring from the other bedroom meant that he had since returned. I had little desire to see Eddie again. He had always seemed rather shifty and suspect. But then, I reminded myself that I had spent the first thirteen years in the midst of werewolves without ever questioning a thing so perhaps my instincts were a bit…undependable.

  The air seeping through the open window was cool and moist. I wore only an old t-shirt and welcomed the fresh feel of the air. I drummed my fingers on the windowsill, considering. I felt as if I’d been given a chance. A chance to sort through the mess I’d made of my life. Max didn’t seem to dislike having me around, or at least he hadn’t said as much. If I stayed in Luna Junction for a while I could pull myself together. I felt a little queasy about pursuing whatever it was a ‘huntress’ was destined for. But I could sure as hell stand to finish high school.

  Every muscle in my body clenched before the sound even reached my ears. No wonder why so many of the old, fearsome fables were devoted to their kind. It was a call that spoke an ancient terror, the howl of the wolf. I’d heard that sound a thousand times in my youth and dismissed it as mere background noise. Now I knew better. As the sky began to lighten enough to sort through the shapes of the towering pine trees, I squinted at the dark figure which sprinted across the hilly land beyond my father’s property. The large four legged creature moved with such liquid silence it might have been an illusion. But just before he left my sight, he turned as if he knew I were watching.

 

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