Moon Crossed (Werewolf Hunter Series): Season 1 (Episodes 1-6) (Crescent Hunter) (5 page)

“It's been a
minute. How've you been?” Cole asks, patting him on the back to
retract from the hug.

“Busy with
school. How about you?” Rabbit asks with his hand on Cole's
shoulder.

He holds up his hand
but obscures two fingers. “Same as always, rough day at the
lumber yard.”

We all exchange a
laugh. Mine perhaps a little nervous.

The back porch fills
with the boys, everyone pulling up a chair. I don't mind, really,
even though I usually come out here for solitude. It's also nice when
it becomes a place for jokes and good times. Balances things out, I
guess.

Lili drags a rocker
over next to me and leans in while looking at the boys. “Seriously,
how is it that you live with all these hotties and don't care?”

“You're so
ridiculous.” I can't help but watch Cole kick Tor out of one of
the more comfortable chairs and drag it over to sit directly across
from me in the circle, as though he's claiming a position.

Lili tracks my gaze.
“Oh, except maybe that one?”

I rattle my head to
snap out of watching him. I don't know why it's so fascinating. The
way he lights a cigarette, but I note every motion. How he pulls it
out of the pack, lights it with his fancy flip-top lighter, and
inhales the first delicious puff of smoke seductively. He's making me
want one.

Claire? Stop it.
I hear Locke's voice in my head. I search for where he is in the
circle and give him a questioning look, quirking one eyebrow.
Just
trust me, stop.

Stop what?
I
shrug innocently.

He really is the big
bad wolf.
He tilts his chin down in seriousness.

And I'm Red Riding
Hood?
I cock my head, pursing my lips. Cole seems pretty
harmless, but I'm captivated by his mannerisms and listening to the
charm of his country accent.

I'm more concerned
about the way he's looking at you like you're the picnic basket.
Locke's eyes widen.

Oh please, that's so
not how he's looking at me. He's made it pretty clear I'm not
his type. My ass is too big. He's already said he prefers rail-thin
girls; that, I am not.
I try not to let the disappointment bleed
through on my face.

Just be careful.
He concedes, since he knows I can take care of myself.

K Dad.
I wink at
him and smile.

When there's a slight
lull in the conversation, I lean forward toward Cole and ask, “Where
did you come from?”

Everyone turns to me
like I just asked him to tell me the meaning of life. I take a second
to mull it over and decide for some reason this needs more
clarification. “Like, how do you know the boys?”

He smiles and oh God
his eyes sparkle with intensity. He takes a drag from his cigarette,
preparing to answer, but Trevor answers for him. “Oh, Cole
transferred from Tallulah High the year after you graduated.”

That high school is
just across town. “Ah, that explains why we haven't met.”
There's an uneasiness that shows in him for a split second. “Why
did you transfer? Did you move?”

Trevor interjects
before Cole is able to speak. “No, he had to transfer because
he ran through all the pussy that would have him over there.”

Everyone in the circle
laughs except for me and Cole. I look at him in a new light, pinning
him with a judgmental stare. “Is that so?”

Trevor answers for him
again. “Hell yeah, Cole's like a hero, and lucky for him he
only had two more years of high school when he transferred.” He
lowers his voice slightly before adding, “It's a small school.”

Cole shifts in his seat
uncomfortably as he gauges my reaction. He wants to be proud of his
prowess, but not here, not in front of me. I decide it may be time
for a little dig, put this cocky bastard in his place. “So
Cole, tell me, do you drag Trevor around everywhere so that he can
speak for you? Or do you actually speak for yourself on occasion?”

Trust me, I know how
hard it is sometimes trying to get a word in edgewise with Trevor; he
just gets so excited.

Locke's voice of
warning goes off in my head again.
Claire, he's a wolf in cowboy's
clothing.

I look over at Locke
again.
I'm just having some fun.

Trevor inhales to speak
again and Cole leans forward, putting his hand over Trevor's mouth,
“Wise men speak because they have something to say; Fools
because they have to say something.” He surprises me with a
Plato quote. My stare is unrelenting; awaiting a real answer, I quirk
my eyebrow to taunt him.

When he doesn't respond
to my question I bite at his comment. “Did you just drop
Plato?”

“I did.” He
nods once, leaving his head down for a moment and letting his blond
hair fall over his ears and eyes.

My whole face brightens
at the prospect of him actually being an intellectual. I don't really
get that with the boys. “I'm impressed.”

“Don't be. He
probably read that from a fortune cookie on the way over,” Tor
says flatly, then awaits everyone's reaction.

“Wouldn't that be
Confucius?” Rabbit scratches his head.

“Real knowledge
is to know the extent of one's ignorance.” Cole smiles smugly
at Tor, then watches for my reaction.

“Was that
Confucius?” Rabbit asks.

“Yes, it was,”
I confirm, then exchange an impressed glance with Cole. He winks at
me and takes another long drag from his cigarette. “I am
capable of speaking for myself, just rarely when Trevor is around and
there's a pretty girl nearby.” He looks directly at Lili when
he says that last part. Huh.

I sip my drink,
pondering that last move far longer than I ever should.

“Is your glass
empty?” Cole asks, watching me tip the cup all the way back.

“It is.”

“Allow me.”
He puts his hands on the armrests to stand.

“No, that's okay.
I'm capable of getting my own drink.” I go to get up and Locke
stops me.

“But you should
never have to.” Locke takes my glass. “What were you
drinking?”

“The usual.”
I offer a smug smile, knowing that Locke totally just blocked Cole
out of getting my drink.

“Diet Coke?”

“You know me so
well, number one.” I close my eyes and nod dramatically.

Locke bows and heads
for the kitchen, but Cole grabs my cup from him on the way by. “I've
got it.”

I shake my head,
rolling my eyes.

When Cole returns he
hands me the cup. “Let me know if this is to your liking.”

“What is it? A
mint julep?” I lay on the fakest Southern accent I can muster.

“No, but it's
blue,” he says, handing it to me.

I take a sip and it's
super sweet and delicious. “It's okay. Thank you.”

The night progresses
with many stories from all the boys, escapades back in high school.
Then there is a plethora of stories regarding Cole's many conquests.

Tor finishes telling
one story and the laughter is still going strong at the punch line.
I'm a little disgusted that this is all at the expense of some poor
girl who thought she was getting a boyfriend, when in fact she was
only getting screwed. Literally.

“I didn't care
that you guys caught me. I just wanted to make sure y'all didn't tell
anyone I was screwing a three!” Cole defends.

I shake my head, now
completely disgusted.

As the night goes on,
the crowd dwindles down. I prefer it when the party is wolf-borne,
hunters, and sympathizers. Lili is the only one left that isn't in
the know, and she's all but passed out. “Hey, why don't you go
up to my room and get some sleep?”

She yawns. “Yeah,
I think that's a good idea. Will you be up in a few?”

“Yeah, I may go
down to my office, but I'll be up soon.” I put my hand on her
wrist and get up. I walk to the opposite end of the porch so I can
make a discrete exit and hop over the railing while the boys are
still enthralled with walking down memory lane. The sliver of moon is
beautiful in the sky and a walk right about now sounds nice to clear
my head.

As I reach the treeline
of the yard, I can feel Cole close to me and I hear Locke's warning.
Claire?

I offer Locke some
reassurance.
I know he's there. I've got this.

“Want some
company?” His deep timbre rumbles through me in the dark.

“Not my
intention, but sure, why not?” I don't slow my pace through the
trees.

“I just thought
it might be nice to have a conversation where I get to speak for
myself.” He huffs a laugh. “That kid.”

“Yeah, Trevor is
special.” There's a long stretch of silence as we walk. I'm
okay with this; it doesn't feel uncomfortable. We are both just
listening to the sounds of the forest.

“You are very
good at walking quietly.” Cole is unable to take the silence
between us.

“My father taught
me,” I answer in a low whisper. There's another stretch of
silence.

I hear him inhale a
breath and release it through his nose. “I know what you are.”

“Good.” I
stop and look up at him. He's frozen in place. I'm not sure exactly
what he was expecting. “And I know what you are, so you're
wasting your time.”

“I'm not wasting
my time.” A sly smile lights his face.

“You are,
actually.” I smile back knowingly. “I'm not interested in
whatever it is you're selling.”

“I'm not selling
anything.” He can't even try to pretend to be hurt. He pauses.
“I may be buying, though.”

“Sorry, darlin,'
I've got nothing for you.” I turn and continue walking, faster,
louder than before.

He matches my pace
easily with his long legs. “I was hoping to be friends,”
he says with an earnestness in his tone. One that I believe.

“Friends would be
cool.” I concede, not slowing down.

“Perfect, I'm
glad we've settled that.” His voice is laced with satisfaction.
I can't help but notice that his footfalls sound like a ten man
wrecking crew coming through the woods.

“You know you
could be a little quieter.” I look down at his feet.

“Sorry, it's the
boots.” He points to his cowboy boots that were shiny when he
arrived. Yeah, I noticed.

“I don't think
they are any clunkier than these.” I hold up one of my combat
boots. “There are just some of us that don't have a talent for
stalking or being quiet.” I cut a half smile into my cheek.
Will he bite at the challenge?

Cole puts his hand on
his chest. “Oh, that hurt.”

“If the cowboy
boot fits.” I pull my shoulder to my ear.

“You think you
can out-stalk me?” He's dubious.

“Nope.” I
open my eyes wide then draw a serious expression, looking him
directly in the eye. “I
know
I can.”

“Do I feel a
challenge coming on?” he says with a playful look in his eyes.

“You putting one
down?”

He nods slowly. “Yes,
I think I am.”

I lower my chin and
from under hooded eyes answer, “It's on.”

“Rules?” he
tilts his head to the side.

“No wolf form.”
I hold up one finger.

“No powers,”
he offers, and I add a finger. We stare at each other for a minute,
trying to think of some more rules. I really can't think of anything.

I turn and bolt. “Count
to sixty and come and find me if you can.”

The advantage is mine.
This is my territory; I walk in these woods every day. My scent is as
prominent here as the blooming gardenias. Excitement is coursing
through me and as much as I hate to admit it, I love the hunt. I'd
also like to put Cole in his proper place. I think he needs to be
knocked down a notch or two.

In my own head I count
to sixty and hope that we are counting at roughly the same rate. My
go-to is the trees. My father taught me early that the trees are my
friends. Most don't ever look up when they are looking for something.
I'm going to use every advantage that I have. Even not in wolf form
his sense of smell and hearing are likely keener than mine, but I'm
pretty sure I'm smarter.

His footfalls are so
heavy, I have no idea how he ever sneaks up on anything. I have to
contain the snigger as I look down at the top of his head from my
perch. I toss a pine cone I grabbed on the way up to get him away
from where I am. If I linger in one spot for too long, he'll likely
catch on from the saturation of my scent. I'm already sweating a bit
from the running.

After half an hour and
trying so hard not to laugh at hearing his frustrated breaths,
knowing that he's always one step behind me I decide to let him off
the hook and make him the hunted. I scale down and lean quietly
against the tree. He walks right by. When he passes me I say it low,
“Hey cowboy, gotchya.”

He freezes in place and
his head shakes from side to side. “You are a tricky little
thing, aren't you?”

“I am.” The
satisfaction in my voice is almost grating to
me
.

He turns around. “Well
you bested me this time. But next time, I'm going to bring my A
game.”

“I'm shaking in
my boots.” I raise an eyebrow.

“Want to go
again?” he suggests.

“Nah, let's just
walk.” I rub my hands on my bare arms, wishing I'd brought a
jacket. I walk past him. “Come on.”

“Are you cold?”
There's genuine concern in his voice.

“A little, but
I'll survive.” I keep walking. He unbuttons his flannel and
takes it off, wrapping it around my shoulders. “I don't want
you to get–”

The look on Cole's face
stops my words. “I'm a walking furnace. I'm not going to get
cold.”

Thankfully he's wearing
a tank top underneath, but it doesn't stop me from noticing his broad
chest and strong arms.
Clair, stop. He's no good,
I tell
myself; it's like I have Locke built into my head. Still his scent
envelopes all of my senses, making me feel lightheaded. I'm wrapped
in his shirt and can't stop inhaling.
Stop
. Being this close
to him feels different than anything I've felt before. It's a cross
between a glow and a hum. That burns.