Werewolf Moon (The Pack Trilogy Book 1)

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Werewolf Moon (The Pack Trilogy Book 1) Page 6

by Chanel Smith


  Sporting a silly wolfen grin, Raya slowed his pace until Itchiko ever so slightly took lead. Content, Raya merely paced the jet black wolf as he raised his long snout into the air, sniffed time after time and then turned decisively north. What had Itchiko scented, Raya wondered?

  He didn’t have long to think about it, as he found himself pounding up a partially paved road slightly behind Itchiko. The road wound through elaborately-shaped hedges and gardens bursting with all manner of exotic fruit, but then it ended in front of a tall iron gate. Beyond the gate, a path stretched into the distance, flanked on both sides by enclosures which sheltered the most exotic of creatures.

  Jackpot! Raya was exultant. No wolf on earth could resist scents as foreign and therefore alluring as these.

  In fact, Raya rather looked forward to a completely-illegal hunt in which both wolves could well be shot for their temerity. First, though, the animals had to be chosen and then, hardest yet, let run free into all that inviting open space that awaited.

  What would Itchiko choose for their first official “chasse du frère” (Brother Hunt)? Raya fervently hoped that whatever it was, it wouldn’t be easily brought down.

  Itchiko obviously had the same concerns as the creature he finally selected after racing back and forth between enclosures was something Raya had never seen, much less hunted. It looked somewhat like a cross between a giant bird and a llama, as absurd as that may sound. Once the two wolves had bypassed the gate into the menagerie itself, this creature was in the third enclosure on the left.

  When Raya finally was close enough to really look at the thing, he discovered it was, in fact, a large bird. An “emu” according to the plaque in front of the enclosure. Whatever it was, it had one of the most inviting scents he’d ever come into contact with. Evidently it had the same effect on Itchiko, who currently was sitting on his haunches, staring and drooling. If Raya could have burst out laughing in his wolf form, he would have.

  But he had work to do. Had to figure out how to get that gigantic furry bird out of its enclosure, all the way to the end of the menagerie and out into the open gardens where it could run, fly, do whatever it could to avoid being dinner for two hungry and very curious wolves.

  Raya might have been laughing before, but it was Itchiko’s turn when Raya kept exiting that enclosure as rapidly as possible but not fast enough to avoid multiple bites from that sharp beak—multiple bleeding bites, thank you very much. The last time, Raya had barely escaped with his nuts intact and had landed outside the enclosure just in time to see Itchiko literally fall onto his side and lay there, chest heaving as he fought for breath through gales of howls, wolfen laughter. The bastard, Raya thought with a grin whilst trying to press on one injured nut with a paw to stop the bleeding. He must have looked yet more absurd as Itchiko had to turn his back and look away.

  Finally Raya did the only thing he could: leaped into the cage, grabbed the nasty creature by its long, tough throat and hauled it back over the wall, down the road, and over that gate. The upshot was one extremely pissed off emu, until the creature figured out it was free. It then promptly took off at a speed Raya would not have believed possible had he not seen it.

  And then another thing Raya could never have foreseen happened, and it happened so fast he couldn’t even yelp a warning.

  As fast as that emu was, it couldn’t hope to equal the speed of a Were. Itchiko took three bounding leaps, and with the fourth the game was over as he jumped up under that hairy chin and ripped that long throat out. The creature was dead before it hit the ground, as were Raya’s plans for a long, satisfying hunt.

  He promptly shifted, looked at Itchiko and drew in a deep breath to give the Were a cursing he’d never forget. But then the absurdity of the situation hit him, and he simply doubled over in howls of laughter. Itchiko shifted and stood staring down at the Alpha, covered with blood and already-healing bites, rolling on the ground in convulsive laughter.

  “A fine Trans Alpha you are, right this second,” Itchiko said in his dry tone. “Oh, if I only had one of those new camera things.”

  Mid roars of laughter, Raya looked up. “And you did so much better, brother? You just took down a bird using the same technique for a lion!” And off he went in gales of laughter, but this time he wasn’t alone.

  The straight-laced Itchiko who rarely cracked a grin was doubled over next to him, tears of hilarity pouring down his cheeks.

  For Raya, the outing had turned out to be a complete success.

  The next morning, the pack held an official meeting to discuss their immediate future.

  “Itchiko. This other pack, how many do they number?” Raya wondered.

  “It varies. Somewhere between twenty and thirty on any given day.”

  Raya’s eyes widened. “They break even the law governing pack numbers? And how is it that their numbers vary so greatly?”

  “Their Weres seem to die fairly often,” Itchiko responded. “Requiring frequent replacements, preferably with young to train.”

  Raya went silent. Then, “Alright. It’s obvious that we’re badly outnumbered. If we stay in Europe, it’s possible they find us and eradicate us. I believe it’s time Pack Lupeinescu make a move: a rather large one. The New World is wide-open, plenty of space for a new compound where we can live in protected peace. What say the pack?”

  They went around the table, from Were to Were. One after another said “Aye” and the proposition was accepted.

  Pack Lupeinescu was on its way to America.

  Chapter Six

  Oh, Say Can You See?

  Adică sîntem atît O casă creşte rapid, un magnific o durează pentru totdeauna.

  A shoddy house rises fast, a magnificent one lasts forever.

  —A Romani saying

  The packed ship pulled into the bustling port of New Orleans. People of every color worked side by side as Raya’s pack disembarked from the ship that had been their home for so many months.

  Raya himself told Itchiko to stay with the pack: he’d return in a moment. In a louder voice he declared that he had a surprise for everyone, and then he strode off through the throngs of people around the busy shipping area.

  Shortly he returned with two large black men who shouldered most of the pack’s possessions and led the way through the crowds to a nearby street where several carriages awaited.

  Petra followed along, gold eyes missing nothing as she climbed into the leading carriage with the other two women of the original pack. Itchiko and his bitch, along with most of the pack’s possessions pulled up the rear.

  The carriages struck off slowly through crowded streets containing so many weird things that the wolves weren’t sure the city was human.

  Finally they escaped the city proper. The road narrowed, but the carriages made excellent time. Just as the sun was an hour from setting, the lead carriage took a right onto what looked like nothing more than a deer track. A few more minutes and they pulled up in front of a small, very rough cabin.

  Raya jumped out of the leading carriage and presented the cabin as if it were the finest of castles.

  “Meet the beginnings of L’heureuse lune, The Auspicious Moon, the new home of Pack Lupeinescu,” he said with a certain amount of ceremony not lost on any wolf present.

  As was her due, Petra descended first and walked to his side. “Alpha female is honored to join our Trans-Alpha.” So saying, she knelt by Raya’s side and pushed her head under his hand. Raya lifted her straight up by a light tug on her hair. “Trans-Alpha welcomes Alpha Female.”

  Itchiko followed suit. “Beta Itchiko would join his brother.”

  Raya pulled him to his feet. “Pack Lupeinescu accepts,” he said in his normal voice. Then he added in a stage whisper, “and if you kneel to me again you’ll be minus one gonad.”

  The rest of the pack coughed, attempting to cover snorts of laughter. Then one by one they followed suit: one head after another pushing into Raya’s large hand.

  Petra sighed and wal
ked to the cabin, opened the door and peered in. “I’d say Pack Lupeinescu has some ass busting in our near future.”

  “I’d say they don’t,” Raya promptly countered. He gave a short whistle. “Come on out, boys.”

  From behind a nearby thick stand of trees, a crowd of men walked out. Amazed, Petra figured there had to be nearly thirty of them! How on earth had Raya arranged all this from that ship as they crossed the Atlantic?

  Raya caught her eye and winked. She grinned back. However he’d done it, these men meant that Pack Lupeinescu would have a new abode much faster than she’d thought possible. Something tickled her memory. Now what was it? Oh yes. That cabin’s interior. In the brief peek she’d taken, she’d seen something fascinating.

  She turned and made for the small building, hoping she’d seen what she thought she had. As she opened the door, there it was: a large square table that nearly filled the entire cabin from one wall to the other.

  What sat on that table was the prize, she thought as she walked in and looked down. Was that what she thought it was? Having not ever seen a true architectural rendering of a house, she was unsure.

  “It has everything you wanted and then some,” Raya said from the doorway.

  “You going to translate all this for me?”

  “Sure. It’s easier than you think.”

  Somehow Petra doubted that, but she’d keep an open mind.

  Chapter Seven

  A Manger

  Nu dau bani, dar mijloacele pentru a-l face.

  Give not money, but the means to make it.

  —A Romani saying

  The pack intended on taking their time to really explore New Orleans while their manse was being built. Their very first night in the beautiful town, they decided to splurge on the supremely elegant but expensive Hotel De Ville. Raya, Petra and the two bitches sat at a large round table in the expansive dining room waiting for Itchiko and his wife. The waiter had come twice with menus, and Raya was getting steadily more nervous about Itchiko’s continued absence. The Japanese were never late.

  Raya couldn’t even say “almost never late”: the other was, literally, never late so this came as a most unwelcome shock. Another ten minutes crept by, and Raya had had enough. He stood.

  “I’ll be back shortly,” he announced as he turned on one heel and strode away.

  Petra watched him go. “Worried about Itchiko,” she said briefly.

  “Rightfully so,” Charissa said and the rest of the pack froze. Charissa almost never spoke up and if she did, there was a problem. Charissa was an exquisitely colored wolf from her red-tinged dark coat to her pale blue eyes. Some said those eyes were the mark of a psy-Were, as psychic werewolves were known. Her partner, Erigny, was her perfect complement with a grey coat and eyes a peculiar golden-green. They were a formidable couple, and Petra meant to take advantage of Charissa’s abilities right at that moment.

  “Charissa, where is Itchiko?” Petra asked straight out. Sometimes the smaller wolf would instantly respond.

  “Walking up behind you,” Charissa responded and everyone laughed, until Itchiko drew close enough where his worried face could be seen.

  “What’s up?” Petra asked, voice sharp with worry.

  “You need to come with me,” Itchiko told the Alpha Female. As the others in the pack automatically rose, Itchiko said “Only the Alpha, for now.” The pack resettled in their seats, but there wasn’t one wolf who didn’t have a tight stomach.

  Petra followed Itchiko as the black wolf walked toward the back of the restaurant. Where on earth was he leading her this time?

  Outside the restaurant, Itchiko took Petra up several flights of steps then down a long hall, and finally slowed to a halt in front of an impressively large door. She turned her head to ask what was happening and the answer hit her in the face like a wooden bat.

  The heavy, tell-tale scent of a Werewolf in absolute terror was seeping out from cracks below and around that door. Petra frowned. What could cause such terror, and what was that intermingled scent? She inhaled through her nose and concentrated, but nothing came to mind. As she opened her mouth to ask Itchiko, the door swung open.

  “Watch out,” Itchiko said. “Been through this once today already. I’ll go first, you wait for a moment.” The room was dark, the heavy curtains pulled shut as Itchiko slid sideways in through the door.

  Petra squinted, but even with her werewolf-enhanced vision could make out nothing but the shapes of two beds, a chair, a long bureau and a chair.

  Then she felt the air move. Itchiko grunted and cursed, there were assorted noises as bodies took blows and responded. Infuriated at not being able to help, Petra finally bolted into the room just as the bright lights flipped on.

  Itchiko was standing, bent over at the waist, over a small man curled up on the floor. To Petra’s horror, the man was in constant flux: he shifted back and forth, back and forth. “I don’t know what to do any more,” came a voice from behind her in the doorway. Petra whirled and squatted, ready for battle.

  “Stand down,” Itchiko said calmly. “This is Jean-Paul’s lover. Jean-Paul is the one who is shifting.” He inhaled deeply, and Petra saw that for once the Japanese were was badly troubled. The wrinkles on his forehead were a dead give-away.

  “What happened to him?” Petra asked.

  A well-built male moved carefully past her to kneel next to Jean-Paul and put his hand on the other male’s cheek. “The government, they set trap and they caught my Jean-Paul. He was there for almost a week before I am able to pull him out, and during those days he was given I do not know what kind of drugs.” Deep golden eyes rose to Petra’s, the plea evident. “Please, help us. I don’t know what to do any more.”

  To Petra’s horror, tears slowly rolled down the large man’s face. Weres don’t cry as a rule, and male Weres? Never. This situation was unprecedented in so many ways. “I need my mate,” she stated flatly. “He’s Alpha of our pack: he’ll know what to do. Always does. Let me go find him, alright? Itchiko, can you stay with these two?”

  Itchiko nodded, reluctance visible by his lowered brows. “Whatever is going on, I don’t want you left unprotected.”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s Jean-Paul who needs help as fast as possible.” With that, she turned and strode out towards the stairs and Raya.

  Raya followed his mate back up the stairs, lost in thought. What she’d told him made little sense. Why would the American government want a Werewolf, and what kind of drugs had they filled him with? None of this made sense and he needed answers fast.

  Once in the room, he targeted the man kneeling next to the constantly-shifting Were. “You. Your name is?”

  “I am Andre, I’ve been with Jean-Paul for almost two hundred—“ he paused as his lover shifted to wolf-form, let a mournful howl that was abruptly cut off by a shift back to human form. “Dieu nous garde. Faut que...” he saw incomprehension on the other faces and dropped into English. “You must help us. Please.”

  “Where was Jean-Paul held?” Raya asked.

  “A facility on the other side of the lake,” Itchiko responded for the distraught Were. “I can take you there.”

  “That’s where we start, then. Whatever has to happen, this guy needs to stop shifting ASAP.” Raya stopped speaking, but every Were in the room heard his unspoken words: shifting took a certain amount of energy. Constant shifting meant a constant drain with no chance of replenishing supplies. No one knew what would happen if a Were was completely drained of his energy: as far as Raya knew, it had never happened.

  That he or his pack were aware of, he amended silently.

  Time to visit a government facility now.

  ***

  Two hours later, the entire pack was assembled in Raya’s spacious suite. There was obvious tension in the air as Raya began to speak. “As you know, the facility or warehouse was empty. Utterly empty down to the packed-dirt floor.” Raya began pacing across the deep carpet. “Not sure where to go from here, but we need to f
ind out exactly who held Jean-Paul, why, and used what drugs. Obviously we need this information yesterday. Does anyone have any ideas?”

  Petra heaved a sigh. “There’s always Uncle John.” Raya’s elegant nose actually wrinkled at the suggestion.

  “That has to be the worst—” Raya stopped at the warning plain in Petra’s eyes. Damnation, his alpha mate was right—as usual.

  Uncle John was a man in his sixties that Raya had met whilst applying for visas for the pack. John had accepted the Were’s applications, then flipped through them while Raya looked on.

  “Certainly come from a lot of different places,” John had remarked.

  “We’re a worldly bunch,” Raya agreed.

  John had come to the end of the small stack of papers, flipped it over and begun to read again from the beginning. Raya had been exasperated, but knew enough not to show it.

  After all, the American was dealing with papers from Wallachia, Germany, the UK and two other unpronounceable countries in Eastern Europe: such a group would draw the attention of any government employee. At last John slapped the papers down and looked into Raya’s eyes.

  “What y’all really up to in New Orleans?” Heavy set, John’s eyes appeared tiny behind folds of fat.

  “I’m building a beautiful compound for us here: it’s perfect! The weather is divine, the city is large enough to be cosmopolitan but not so large the crime rate is high, and the surrounding area is exquisite. We intend to put down roots here for ourselves and the Lupein Corporation.”

  Those small eyes sharpened. “Lupein Corporation? And what do you have to do with that particular enterprise?”

  “I created it,” Raya said.

  There was silence, then John said “If I’m to believe that, why come to America when you are doing so very well in the European market?”

 

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