Moon Crossed (Werewolf Hunter Series): Season 1 (Episodes 1-6) (Crescent Hunter) (40 page)

“Whoa, who peed
in your Wheaties?” Locke asks, sitting at the kitchen table and
scrolling through his phone.

Crap. I inhale a breath
to try to calm down. “Just a rough morning.”

“What happened?”
He looks at me cautiously as I sit with him at the table.

“Nothing.
Just...” I trail off, not wanting to ask about Cole, but I know
that Locke talks to him pretty regularly.

“Oh, okay then.”
He looks back down at his phone.

I huff out a dramatic
breath and take a sip of my coffee. “So how is everything with
you?”

“I'm okay, just
got twerk today.” He rolls his eyes.

“Are we having a
porch night tonight?” Ha, here's how I can get the info without
coming right out and asking about Cole.

“I think there's
a party at Brennan's.” He continues scrolling.

“Oh,” I
don't really know Brennan.

“Just as well, I
have work to do.” I look from side to side and sigh again.

“I figured Cole
would be coming over, so I didn't bother inviting you.” He
looks up at me with a judgmental stare.

“Why would you
think that?”

“Because you two
have been attached at the hip.” He gets up from the table and
puts his coffee cup in the sink.

“What makes you
say that?” I don't realize how snappy I sound until it's too
late.

He ticks his head
toward the porch. “Because the planters have been lit pretty
much nonstop.” A look of realization comes over him.

“Not the last
couple of days.” I say it partially under my breath.

“Oh.” He
makes the realization. “Went dark on you, huh?”

I just nod in shame.

“He does that.”
He gets the fixings for a sandwich.

“I'm just worried
about him with all that's been going on.” I slouch in my chair.

“I saw him
yesterday,” he offers to assuage my concern.

“Really? And he
was okay?” Now I'm pissed off.

“Yeah, he was
fine.” He packs the sandwich and grabs a banana.

“Well, then, I
guess there's that.” I pick up the spoon and nervously tap it
on the table.

“He's fine; he
does this. None of us take it personally.” He smiles, standing
in front of me.

“Still rude,”
I snarl.

“That's Cole.”
He huffs a laugh. “I gotta go. You can come to the party
tonight if you want.”

“I've got work to
do.” I eye the calendar on the fridge that is counting down to
the full moon.

“Alright, I'll
see you later.” He kisses the top of my forehead. “Oh,
thanks for making coffee.”

I nod. “Wait, I
didn't make coffee,” I call after him.

He stops and shrugs.
“Hmm, weird.”

“Yeah, since
we're the only coffee drinkers.” I look around suspiciously to
find the nefarious threat who’s making coffee.

“Probably Rain.”
He continues out the door.

I get up, tossing the
spoon down on the table, and head down to my office. On my desk is a
bag of chocolates. I look around as though the coffee-making,
chocolate-leaving bandit might still be afoot. But no one's here.

I toss the chocolates
aside, power up my computer, and open the door to the lab so I can
get to work. I'm finally onto something. I've been down here
obsessing. Of course, trying to figure out what happened to Brogan is
also a priority, but I feel like I've just hit a brick wall. Up and
over if I can't break through.

I lean back in my
chair, rubbing my neck; it's sore from staring at the screen for
hours. The theories I have are all viable and can't be ruled out
until I can test them. I shake my head, wishing that I could just
solve this.

Tomorrow, I'm going to
need to collect more blood samples from the boys, and get some of
Aunt Rain's blood. I want to do some comparisons with mine. She's
been avoiding letting me do a blood draw on her.

I tap the pen to my
lip, deep in thought. I unwrap another one of the chocolates in the
bag. They are okay, but not my favorite. I'd rather have something
with caramel, not just plain chocolate, but whomever the bandit is
totally gets props - they brought me chocolate, and I'm assuming they
made me coffee.

I wonder if it was Aunt
Rain. Let's find out.

Hey, did you make
coffee at my house this morning? ~Claire

No, I'm in
Charlotte. ~R

KK ~Claire

Do you have mystery
coffee? ~R

Yeah, but it's cool.
~Claire

Maybe you shouldn't
drink it? ~R

Eyeing my empty coffee
cup with only a little concern, I laugh a bit. Maybe that would have
been a better thought to have before my third cup. Although, if
someone did something to the coffee, I'd likely be feeling the
effects of it by now. Right?

Too late, but still
standing. ~Claire

That's good. ~R

When are you coming
home? ~Claire

Tonight. Hayden and
I are driving back right after the council meeting. ~R

KK talk to you then.
~Claire

Love you. ~R

You too. ~Claire

The mystery continues.
Pushing away from the desk, I grab my coffee cup and head up for
more. I rinse out the pot and start filling it, and something outside
the window above the sink catches my eye.

Butterflies, swarming
on the porch and in the yard. They're Cole's brand of beautiful
iridescent purple. My shoulders relax and an unsolicited smile
spreads across my face. I go to the back door, and before I can open
the screen I hear his voice.

“I'm glad you
like them.” He's in his chair, facing away from the door with
his cowboy boots up on the table and his hat tipped downward,
covering his eyes. His deep timbre and southern drawl melt away all
of the irritation.

I can't let him off the
hook too easily, so I try to maintain a cool edge to my tone. “Why
would you say that?”

Without moving, he
responds by pointing at the planters, which are lit up with brilliant
purples with hints of red. I shake my head because I want to be angry
with him, but I'm only mad at myself for wanting to be near him and
forgetting that he's been blowing me off.

He tilts his hat up and
lights a cigarette. “Are you hungry?”

“No, not really,”
I say, folding my arms across my chest.

Even standing behind
him, I can see his cheeks rise, full of his smile. “Eat too
much chocolate?”

“There is no such
animal,” I say, and walk over to my chair.

“What have you
been up to?” He smiles and his eyes sparkle in a way that
really makes me soft.

“Work.” I
look down at my hands in my lap. “Where have you been?”

“Busy.” He
says it short, as though it's not up for discussion.

“Too busy to
answer a text?” I arch an eyebrow.

“Yes.” He
gives me a serious look.

“I had no idea
lumber was such a demanding field.” My tone cuts him a little;
my sharp look cuts him deeper.

“Don't be angry.
I had a lot
to deal with.” He blows out a puff
of smoke.

“After what
happened, I was really worried about you.” My harsh demeanor
breaks.

“You don't ever
have to worry about me. I'll be fine,” he says without looking
me in the eye.

“Really? So
you're invincible?” I pull my lips to the side.

“Yes.” He
points at me with his cigarette.

“Not the other
night.”

“I'm fine.”
He hesitates, but can't stop himself from touching his chest where
the blade went in.

“Who did that to
you?” Honestly, I already know that it was Pike, but I want to
hear it from him. I need to be sure that it wasn't a hunter.

“Do you want to
go for a walk?” It's as though I hadn't asked him a question.

“I want you to
answer me.”

“If I had wanted
to talk about it, I would have.” He stands from his chair and
starts for the stairs. “Coming?”

I throw my head back in
frustration, following him. He just wants to walk in silence. I have
so much that I need to say to him, but instead of blurting it all out
I formulate it in my head so that I can articulate my thoughts. So he
really understands.

We reach the clearing,
and he slides his backpack off his shoulder and lays out a blanket.
“I brought some food, since I know you haven't eaten anything
but chocolate today.” He steals a quick glance at me, laying
out some fruit and crackers.

“Thanks, but I'm
really not hungry.” I sit and fold my arms across my chest.

“I don't care.
You're going to eat.” He holds a grape up to my lips.

My first thought is:
did he wash those?

“I washed them.”
He smiles, as though he could hear my thoughts. “Now open up.”

Reluctantly, I take the
grape into my mouth; my attitude softens more. I just can't stay
angry with him. I smile. “Thank you.”

“You are
welcome.” He says each word slowly, looking deep into my eyes.
“I want to make sure you're okay.”

“How can you do
that when you aren't around.” I say it as a statement, chewing
on a cracker.

“I was around.”
He pours me a glass of wine.

“Really?” I
tilt my head in doubt.

“Yes, ma'am.”
He hands me the glass.

“I didn't feel
you.” Then I realize that I didn't feel him this morning.

“Strange,”
he says, looking at me intensely.

“Yeah.” My
eyes dart around, trying to figure it out.

“Can you feel me
now?” he asks, getting closer to me.

A gasp escapes my
lungs; his heat runs through me, taking over all reason. “Yeah.”

“Good.” He
runs his finger along my jawline, then goes back to staring toward
where the sun would rise.

We remain silent for
what seems like a lifetime. But I can't take it anymore. “The
other night...”

He hangs his head.
“Yes?”

“You know...”
The words burn in my throat, holding on because they don't want to be
let out.

“That it was
wrong?” He gives me a sidelong glance, and I remain silent.
“Yeah, I know.”

“But.” I
need something more from him. I need him in my life.

He looks down at me
with a deep sadness in his eyes. “But?”

“We...” I
point to both of us, but he continues for me.

“Need this.”
He hangs his head.

“Yeah.” I
nod.

“Claire.”
He looks straight at me. “I have these feelings for you that I
don't understand. There's something about you I can't let go of. And
what we did the other night...” He trails off, unable to
finish.

“Was amazing.”
A stray tear escapes the corner of my eye.

“Yeah.” He
purses his lips in a painful expression. “But it's wrong.”

“It's only wrong
because someone who doesn't know our hearts says that it is,” I
counter.

“But it doesn't
change the fact that we can't be together, no matter how bad either
of us wants it. Our hearts, my soul that burns for you in ways I
never knew possible, mean nothing in the grand scheme of things.”
The sorrow in his voice rips through me.

This feeling is too
good, too right, to let go of. “Why can't we just enjoy each
other for now?”

He looks down at me,
shocked at my suggestion. A sad smile rises to his lips.

“Seriously, what
we have is something that most people will never feel in their
lifetime. So, knowing that this has an expiration date, let's just
enjoy our time.” Oh my God, I can't believe I said it. I can't
believe I got it out.

He looks at me,
surprised. “You really feel that strongly about me?”

I roll my eyes. “Um,
yeah.”

“I didn't
realize.”

“Liar.” I
shake my head. “You know how I feel because I've told you.”

He nods. “So what
now?”

“Do you want to
enjoy what time we have?” I ask him.

“More than
anything.” He looks away again, as though he's afraid that I'll
take back my words.

“Then let's just
enjoy each other. Knowing that it isn't going to last, that we aren't
allowed to be together, but enjoy what we can.” I nod into him.

He slides in closer to
me. “What about –”

“Shh. It doesn't
matter.” I nuzzle into him as he puts his arm around me. “Let's
just enjoy the middle.”

“But what about
the end?” he asks, with pain deepening his expression.

“Our friendship
never has to end. We can have this.” I rattle our intertwined
hands. “Until we can't, but then we'll always have our
friendship.” I caress his cheek and lean up, pressing a sweet
kiss onto his lips.

“Friends
forever?” He smiles.

“You already
promised.” I pin him down with a serious look.

“Did I?” He
pinches his eyes at the corner.

“Yup.” I
accentuate the “p.”

“Hmmm,” he
says, looking straight ahead again.

“Besides, at this
point I don't want to live in a world that doesn't include you. It
would be like breathing air that doesn't contain oxygen.” I
squeeze his hand. “I would drown in a dry world without you.”