Moon Crossed (Werewolf Hunter Series): Season 1 (Episodes 1-6) (Crescent Hunter) (46 page)

“It's just not
that simple. If the time should come, can you kill one of the boys?”
The pain in his tone affects me.

“Yes.” I
answer without hesitation. “It's a mercy. They are in pain when
they become moon-touched.” I think back to my last two kills.
“Every kill is done in kindness. There is no mercy in having to
make the kill, but there can be mercy in the kill itself. I look into
their eyes, sit with them as they take their last breath, and feel
the relief in it. When they expel that last bit of air, their
humanity returns, and
that
is a kindness.” Various
memories of each wolf-borne I've put down run through my mind's eye.
Each one hurt, each one left a mark on my soul that will forever be a
part of me.

“True, but the
moment we allow too much humanity into us, as hunters we can become a
liability to both races,” he returns.

“No, our humanity
is all we have left.” I'm surprised at his answer, knowing that
he is a sympathizer, yet he still thinks that we shouldn't live
together.

“Yes, love is
humanity. If my life had to be taken, it would be a kindness to have
someone comfort me to the last. Knowing I wasn't alone, knowing that
I could be loved even at my worst.” I wipe the tears from my
cheek before turning back from the window. “I just don't
understand why wolf-borne and hunters can't be together.”

“This is about
more than just the boys, isn't it, Claire?” he asks with a new
curiosity.

“My father mated
with a wolf-borne –” He cuts me off mid-sentence.

“And look at how
that turned out?” he reminds me. “Your father had to live
with the grief of killing the woman he loved, the mother of his
children. He's the reason you grew up without a mother.”

“No, the
moon-touch is what took my mother. She was already dead,” I
answer coolly.

“Yes, but
ultimately he had to give up on her getting better. It was a terrible
struggle for him; he lived with that guilt until the day he died.”
He witnessed Dad's sorrow first hand.

“Of course he
did. We all feel guilt for what we do, even though it's right.”
I sit back in my chair, somewhat deflated. “Or at least that's
what they tell us.”

“I don't know why
the elder shaman's created us this way. I, for one, would love to see
the ancient texts. There has to be an explanation that is more than
just what we've been told. The draw, the way a wolf-borne and hunter
will ingrain...” He trails off, as though he's struggling with
a memory of his own.

“Ingrain?”

“Yes, when a
hunter and a wolf-borne are together they ingrain within each other.
It's very intense, and very painful when reality crashes down.”
He shakes his head in sadness.

“What do you mean
‘together?’” I need him to clarify exactly what he
means.

“Claire? What
have you done?” He looks into me again, searching for the
truth.

“Answer me,
Hayden. What do you mean by together?” I insist.

Our attention is drawn
to a commotion outside the door. Locke bursts in. “Claire, it's
Brogan. He got out.”

My entire being is
filled with dread. “Still in wolf form?” I already know
the answer.

Locke answers with a
frightened stare.

“Okay, I need to
go after him.” I start for the door.

“Claire, you need
to get your gear.” Locke looks me hard in the eye.

“Is he...”
Finishing the sentence will make it true.

“I think so.”
He's fighting back tears.

I pull my lips into a
tight line and push past him, heading for the stairs. “The
order is to disable, no silver.”

The hunters who heard
me acknowledge the order. I'm expecting to find Cole still in bed,
but he's gone. “Cole?” I call out, going to see if he's
in the restroom.

He's gone. No note,
just his absence.

I don't have time for
this right now. I look around for my gear, and go to my room when I
can't find it. Laid out on my bed is my bodice, scabbard, and
weapons. I get the weapons and race down the stairs.

“Which way did he
go?” There are three hunters sitting on the porch.

“He went north
through the woods. There were some wolves chasing him,” one of
them says.

“Shit.” I
can't have the boys chasing him. If he's moon-touched and they engage
him, they can catch it.

Zane calls my name as
I'm heading for the trailhead. Without turning around, I say, “Come
on, we have to get the boys out of the woods.”

He catches up quickly,
and we both use all of our senses to track them. Zane looks like he's
struggling, running at full speed.

“I'm getting five
different scents,” he pants.

“Yeah, I'm trying
to focus on Brogan.” He's nearby; I can feel it.

“I don't know his
scent; all of them have mixed together.” He turns his head to
right. “And another player, but I know that scent. It's Pike.”

“That's the last
thing we need.” I stop for a second to work out a strategy.

“I'll go after
Pike,” Zane says, and starts in the opposite direction.

“Wait, let's find
some other hunters to go with. He's strong and never alone,” I
warn.

“I'll be fine.
I'm not going to engage him. I know better, but I want to keep an eye
on him,” he agrees.

“Be careful,”
I call after him.

Catching Brogan's scent
in the air again, I head toward it, running full speed. It surprises
me that I'm that much faster than Zane, but I'll take it.

I catch Locke's scent
and try to reach him silently.
Locke, listen to me. You and boys
need to get back to the house. If Brogan is moon-touched, it's too
dangerous.

We know.
The
pain in his tone affects me.

Get back to the
house, dammit.

He doesn't answer. I
come to a small clearing looking toward the ridge and hear a menacing
growl. Brogan is stalking toward me.

“Brogan?”
My tone is calming. I need to get close enough to look him in the
eye.

His gnarling
intensifies and becomes more threatening.

With my hand
outstretched in an attempt to pacify him, I say in a low tone,
“Brogan, I need you to stand down.”

Without warning he
lunges at me, knocking me to the ground. With ease, I throw him off
and use my magic to hold him in place. “Brogan, please shift.”

I need him to shift for
me; I need him in human form. While he's frozen, I get close enough
to see directly into his eyes. My heart drops down when I see the
tell-tale blood flecks in his eyes.

He's moon-touched.

“No, no, Brogan,
no!” Tears blur my vision and my concentration is shot; the
freeze spell drops. He jumps at me again with his mouth at my throat.
I'm keeping his muzzle far enough away to keep him from doing any
damage to my throat, but he's clawing and scratching and I can smell
the scent of my own blood filling the air. I don't want to hurt him.
I don't want to do this. I try to wrap my arms around him to subdue
him, but either he's too strong or I'm too weak. I'm not really sure
which. It's never been this hard of a fight before.

I finally get him off
me, but he is unrelenting, still trying to bite and claw me. I get
far enough back to give myself time to draw my dagger and sword.
“Brogan, I'm so sorry.”

I know he can't really
hear me; he doesn't understand anymore. He's gone. Sorrow courses
through me, making my arms feel heavy and weak.

He attacks again, and I
jab my dagger into his haunches to stop him. He drops to the ground
but is still flailing with his paws.

I keep telling myself
that he's not moon-touched, that I need to look closer. I drop my
knee on his neck to hold his head still so that I can study his eyes.
With my elbow, I hold down his snout.

“No,” I
scream out with agony when I check again. I was hoping to find
something different, that maybe he wasn't moon-touched. Tears
free-fall from my eyes. I know what I have to do. “You should
have been in the basement. Why didn't you come in when you were
supposed to?” He can't understand me; he struggles against my
hold.

His body begins to
writhe under me, and he gets loose. I have to disable him again by
jumping up and pushing his neck back to the ground. Brogan gets a
good swipe in, putting a nasty gash in my leg. His entire being
shudders at smelling more of my blood, and comes directly at my
wound. He knocks me backward, hitting my head on something hard. I
scramble backward and use my magic to freeze him again. It's hard to
hold without the proper amount of concentration.

With my hand in the
air, I guide his body down to the ground, holding it there with magic
so that I can make a clean kill. I hold my sword high above my head
“Brogan, I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you from this.”
I plunge the blade directly into his heart, and feel sharpness of it
in my own. There's only silence. No yelping or noise from him at all.
Dropping to my knees, I throw my arms over his body, sobbing. “I'm
so sorry, Brogan. I love you. I'm so sorry.”

My own heaving chest
masks his breathing. His eyes focus and find mine, conveying a
message of relief. The last breath leaves his body, and it hurts like
no other kill. My soul is shattered and turned to dust. Tears fall
upon his fur, soaking in, burning with my anguish. I'll never stop
feeling this.

“Why?” It
comes out on a whisper released into the wind. I look up to follow it
and see my boys standing at the tree line, looking on in horror.
Shame blankets me; I want to sink into the soil. Did they watch me
kill him?

Locke looks at me with
disdain; I can't handle this. My body heaves with sorrow, and my
wailing echoes throughout the trees. All of the witnesses gaze upon
me with hatred and shame.

Zane comes to where I
am; he's the only one unafraid to approach me. “Claire, let me
take care of the internment. You should go back to the house.”

I shake my head. “I'll
do it.”

“Claire, we need
to hurry. We have a problem.” His tone is critical.

“I won't rush
this.” I shake my head uncontrollably.

“Pike is coming.”

Grief is pulling me
under, and I just want to lay here
until I fade into the earth with him.
Locke, Tor, Trevor, and Rabbit turn away, slowly disappearing into
the woods. I thought that they would understand, maybe want to say
goodbye. Maybe be here for me because it hurts to have to say
goodbye, and in this moment I feel completely alone.

I look up at Zane
hopelessly; he presses a tight smile into his cheek. “Let me
help so we can get you back to safety.” He looks toward the
tree line. “I think it's just us.” The knowing stare he
gives me says so many things. I'm sorry. I wish I could help you. I
do understand you. I'm afraid for you. You
are
alone.

Zane and I work
together to conjure a hole, much faster than digging. We place him in
it. On my knees I throw my arms over Brogan's body, and through my
weeping tell him goodbye. “I'm so sorry, my friend. It is my
hope that your death won't have been in vain.” I pat my pouch
where the samples I took are. I will study them and see if there is
something good that can come from this.

Standing, I manifest a
fireball in my hand and gently roll it off my fingertips onto Brogan.
We only watch for a moment before Zane and I both feel the presence
of wolves. It's not a familiar vibration, so I have to assume that
it's Pike and company. Zane looks at me with alarm. “We need to
go.”

“I know, one
second.” I run over to a patch of wild penny royal to lay on
Brogan's ashes as I wipe the moisture from my cheek.

Zane takes my hand as
the grumble from the trees tells us that there are a lot of angry
wolves in there. We exchange a glance, and I say on a breath, “Fly.”

We take off through the
woods at full speed, which is much faster than any wolf can run. My
eyes keep going to the trees in the event that we are cut off. I want
to be quick in getting up there.

He never releases my
hand as we run through the thicket, having left the trail. Greenery
and branches speed past my vision in a blur. I can't see where we
are, or where we're going. I'm trusting that Zane is leading us back
to my house.

He comes to a full stop
and yanks my arm backward, putting me behind him. There's a large
mottled wolf with mats in his fur. Blood dripping from its eyes.
“Moon-touched.” I look up at Zane.

“What do you want
to do?” I ask, looking behind us to see how
close Pike's pack is.

“What we have
to.” He draws his sword, and I my sais.

“Let's be fast,”
he says, pressing his back to mine as I watch the woods.

“Agreed.”

“Do you know
him?” he asks.

“I don't think
so, but it doesn't matter. He's been turned for a while. Look at his
coat,” I point out.

“True. You hold
the rear, I'll make the kill,” Zane says, pushing away from my
back.

“Be quick,
they're coming.”

Instead of watching
Zane, I watch for how close Pike is to us. I still can't see him, but
I hear and smell him. The sound of Zane's sword cracking through the
wolf's rib cage and the yelp shudders through me. It doesn't matter
how many times you hear it, I'll never get used to it.

“Okay, let's go.”
Zane grabs my hand.

“What about –”
I worry about handling the body.

“It's done,”
he says, pulling me past the pile of ash.

“Wow, that was
fast.”

“Not a lot of
time for ritual,” he says, looking behind us to indicate Pike,
who is now in view.

“True.” We
both pick up speed, knowing that we aren't far from my house.

Through the trees, the
white paint on my house comes into view. I don't know how many
hunters are still there since things were winding down. “Pike
is coming!”

We break into the yard
and there is a flurry of activity, but there are only about fifteen
hunters here. “Arm yourselves.” I jump up onto the porch.
“And we are seriously outnumbered.”