Hunter Moon (The Moon Series) (9 page)

"You'll see."

Finn sniffed the air, then bent lower to the ground. "Hyena."

Shane turned to look at Finn, a grudging respect in his eyes. "Yep. You smell anything else?"

"Not yet. Give me time though." The cocky Finn that Rafe was so used to seeing had been replaced by serious Finn. Rafe watched as the werewolf began a circuitous path around the area, checking the long grasses and the ground. When he was done, he indicated for them to keep going. "Lead on."

Shane walked in front of them, being careful where he put his feet. Rafe tried to step where he did. "We're almost there now."

The tall lake grasses opened up into a small clearing bordered by trees. Finn immediately took a step back, his nostrils flaring. Rafe took several more, putting his sleeve up to his nose to blot out the smell of decay. The buzzing of flies filled the air with a low drone.

"Offal," Finn said, his eyes on a mound of something near the treeline.

"What?" Rafe asked, his eyes watering at the smell.

"When did you find it?" Finn turned to Shane who had begun to walk toward the trees.

"Just yesterday morning."

Rafe did the math. "So there have been two disappearances." He and Finn had been called down last week because of one werehyena's disappearance. Now there was another.

Finn walked slowly, eyes on the ground. He stopped suddenly and dropped to his knees to take a closer look at something that had caught his eye. Rafe leaned down next to him. He watched as Finn picked up a few stray stalks that had broken off and sniffed them, then put his index and middle finger into the dirt. He rubbed his fingers. Then he sidled over to the lake, eyes still on the ground. He walked the shoreline carefully.

"Any alligators in here?" he asked Rafe.

"Not usually," he answered. "What are you looking for?"

"I'll know it when I see it."

Rafe grimaced. That told him absolutely nothing.

"Gotcha." Finn leaned forward, showing Rafe the shoreline. Rafe peered at the lakeshore, wondering what he was supposed to be seeing.

Finally he looked at Finn's exuberant face. "It's a lake. I'm not getting why you're so jazzed."

Finn cuffed lightly on the back of the head. "City boy," the werewolf said mockingly. He pointed at the soft sand on the shore. "See, right there? Those impressions are tracks. And they belong to a hyena, which I believe is not indigenous fauna to Florida. And here," he pointed to a small section of broken grass and sand, "is a partial boot print."

"Hurray?" Rafe said, still not getting what had Finn so excited.

Finn sighed. "And here," he said, lifting some shattered stalks that had a dull red stain to them, "is blood." Rafe blinked. Finn grabbed his arm and hauled him up, "Apparently the sun has baked your brains."

Rafe let himself be pulled along until they met up with Shane at the tree line. "What did you find?"

"First, tell us what you found." Finn voice was steady and serious.

Shane began slowly. "I was out here for my morning run."

"Human or hyena?" Finn asked.

Shane gave him a look like he was an idiot. Rafe turned away so Finn wouldn't see his grin. "Hyena. Can I continue?"

"Sure thing."

"It was early—the sun wasn't even up yet. I was coming up to the edge of the lake from where we came in and I smelled it first. I knew it was one of us, and I knew it had to be hurt pretty bad with all of the blood I smelled." He paused, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand. "I slowed pace a bit—I didn't know what I'd be walking into, and I came around the edge there." He pointed his finger to where he was talking about.

"I didn't see anything, not at first, but I could smell it. Blood. I went forward a little and I saw the pile of organs and a lot of blood spilled. I could smell one of ours and something new—the scent of someone I didn't know. Human though, but there was no sign of anything or anyone. The blood was still a little warm, so it hadn't been long. I tried to follow, but whoever it was out here—they were cagey. Hard to track. I didn't want to waste a lot of time out here on a wild goose chase, and I knew what that pile meant, so I called you guys." Shane's eyes were dark and troubled.

Rafe looked back and forth between Shane and Finn, still not understanding why they looked so grim. "I'm sorry if I'm not Davey Crockett or whatever, but I still don't get what that pile means."

Finn looked at him, and there was nothing joking about his expression. "That pile means an animal was dressed." When Rafe still looked lost, Finn elaborated. "It means we've got a hunter."

"Worse than that," Shane piped in. "It means someone's hunting us."

Chapter Eleven

Kess let herself into the studio with the key Mebis had given her. The lights were off, the mats were still stacked in neat piles against the wall, and the place was empty. Odd, Mebis had always beaten her here; every time she’d come before, he’d been in the middle of stretching or doing his own practice. Still, it wasn’t unheard of for someone to be caught in Miami traffic, assassin or no. His particular skill set would be useless there, especially since dead bodies wouldn’t actually help the traffic go any faster.

She flipped on the lights and set her bag down against the wall. May as well get the place set up. Kess grabbed the first mat on the stack and dragged it down onto the sanded hardwood with a loud thump. Keeping busy was a good thing for her these days; it kept her mind off of everything she missed.

If she were in North Carolina, she’d have started her freshman year of college. She’d be with Cormac. She wouldn’t have to worry about the pressures of leading a clan.

She’d been looking forward to being a just another college student. Kess had gotten a brief taste of normalcy and found she liked it very much. It was wonderful to be worried about nothing more dangerous than what class to sign up for and which shift to work. She enjoyed the change of pace of not having complicated problems to deal with. And now she was kind of angry and feeling cheated that her brief flirtation with a normal life had pretty much been yanked right out from under her.

Setting up the mats helped alleviate her frustrations, at least for a little while. It was heavy, demanding work, much like sparring with Mebis was. Kess enjoyed it because the sessions with Mebis let her focus purely on the physical; she was rooted in the present of dodge and strike and block and kick. In a way it was very similar to when she transformed into a leopard—she was all sensation then, rooted in her physical senses like she rarely was in human form.

When she’d finished with the mats, she stretched out on them, doing the warm-up exercises that Mebis had taught her. She was stronger than she’d ever been. Mebis’ training program—or torture as Kess referred to it in her head—was designed to make her faster and stronger, and to teach her how to fight hand-to-hand with a stronger, more skilled opponent. When she wasn’t in leopard form, Kess was far more vulnerable. She and Mebis were trying to change that.

After finishing her stretches, Kess checked her watch. Mebis was over twenty minutes late, which wasn’t like him at all. The werejackal was meticulous about being on time, and he would have at least called if he’d gotten seriously delayed. Kess wondered if something with the Keepers had come up suddenly. That would explain the lack of a phone call.

Kess felt a prickling on the back of her neck. He would have called her, unless the Keeper business he’d been called away on was about her. She shook her head in effort to rid herself of the paranoia she suddenly felt. The Keepers were keeping a close eye on Miami—she knew that. Just as she knew that if they didn’t like her leadership, they’d find a replacement for her. What if Mebis had been called to dispatch her? Kess didn’t like to think that way, but she had gotten used to planning for the worst.

Quickly she gathered up her things, trying not to start at every stray noise. Kess tried to tell herself that if Mebis wanted her dead, she’d already be buried by now. He knew her and her house. He knew where she’d be today, and that she’d be there alone. Mebis had ample opportunity to kill her and he hadn’t. Unfortunately the logical side of her brain was having no luck convincing the rest of her. Her palms were sweating and she thought she saw movement out of her peripheral vision all the way to her car.

Kess tried to calm herself once she was safely inside her car. Not that she was any safer; she knew that too. But being enclosed certainly helped her think. She got out her phone to see if she’d missed a call from Mebis, perhaps canceling today’s session. Then, because it was logical and not at all related to panic, she dialed his number. It went straight to voicemail. She decided against leaving him one.

She made her way home on autopilot, her mind able to navigate the way without her close attention, leaving her open to think about where Mebis could be. It wasn’t out of the question that he’d miss practice for something simple and mundane, like errands taking longer than expected. But the werejackal was almost always unfailingly polite and considerate—he would have called to let her know he was running late.

So that left her with the idea that he couldn’t call. And that meant Keeper business. Whether it related to her and Miami, or something else completely unrelated, she had no real way of knowing, at least not until Mebis came back.

Kess pulled into the driveway, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of her cheek. She hated feeling like she had no control over a situation; it reminded her too much of her life when she was on the run from her father and brother. She’d been forced to live her life by reacting and not acting. Kess had hoped she was through with all of that now that she’d finally agreed to take control of the cat’s territory. Funny how life had a way of showing you how wrong you were.

She pulled the car into the garage. Finn was working on the Ducati. The motorcycle had been her brother Sek’s, and rather than sell it, she’d given it to Finn. The bike might as well get some use from someone who appreciated it.

“You’re back early,” Finn said, poking his head up as she got out of the car.

“Mebis never showed.” She pulled her bag out of the passenger seat.

Finn stood, wiping his hands off on a stray rag. “Did he call?” When she shook her head, he said, “That’s not like him at all.”

“I know.”

“It’s probably nothing. Just Keeper business or something like it.” He looked down for a moment, then said, “You don’t think it’s about us—the council, I mean—do you?”

Kess shrugged, not really knowing how to answer. Finn was expressing the same concerns she had. “I don’t know. We’ve got those missing hyenas and someone hunting us. But we only just found out about that. How would Mebis even know yet?”

“Keeper magic?” Finn half-smiled as he said it. Keepers were powerful, but they weren’t magical. Well, not anymore magical than a werecreature was naturally.

Kess smiled, the expression feeling strange after the tense frowning she did in the car. “I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Do you want me to call Laila?” Finn offered in an attempt to be helpful. “I can see if she’s heard anything.”

“No, don’t bother her with this. If Mebis is on a mission, we’ll find out later. I wouldn’t want to get her in trouble if it’s not something we should know about.” She opened the door that led to the house, then stopped on the threshold. “But if you need an excuse to talk to her, by all means, use me. I would hate to get in the way of young love.”

Finn’s explicative laden response had her laughing as she entered the house.

Chapter Twelve

Lukas waited for the werejackal to awaken in its cage. He wasn’t pleased with the beast, but Zamiel had assured him that this animal would be worth it. Lukas had been wary; Zamiel had done almost all of the legwork on this one, practically leading him to the man he now hunted in animal form. He’d tazed and drugged the young man in parking garage—it wasn’t how he usually liked to work, but he’d made do. The drug that forced the change was administered via hypodermic needle, something he didn’t like doing because the effects on an unconscious subject were never ideal. Still, it had gone off with a minimum of fuss.

He’d collared the beast while it was still unconscious, so that way it couldn’t change shape and ruin his hunt. It was imperative that he kill the creature while it was in jackal form; there could be no trophy otherwise. He put the night vision goggles over his eyes so he could see when the werejackal began to wake.

The animal twitched. Lukas put his finger on the button on the remote control that would open the door to the animal’s cage. Only a few more minutes and his hunt would begin.

The jackal slowly pushed itself to its feet. Lukas was somewhat disappointed by the lame front foot of this one, but all of his intel served to tell him that this werecreature was highly trained and deadly despite his injury. He watched as it examined the confines of its cage while the last of the drug wore off.

Lukas hit the button and the door at the end of the cage slid open. He saw the jackal begin to investigate the opening, tentatively sticking its nose out of the cage, then drawing it back in. Then it sat, as if contemplating its options. Which was exactly what it was doing—and it was why Lukas loved to hunt weres. They had the human capacity for reason and thought, but in an animal’s body.