Christmas Moon (8 page)

She’d have to remember to thank him when this
was over.

The wind swirled, bringing with it the scent
of another wolf—this time feminine. Hunter’s wolf. Bree drew her
gun and picked up her pace.

***

The cold wind ripped through the trees,
ruffling through his fur as Hunter stalked up the forest, winding
closer and closer to the top. The wolf was hardly disturbed by the
frigid breeze. His ears pricking back and forth for any sound out
of the ordinary. He heard a hare move over the snow, moving slow as
it searched for food, but beyond that the forest of Wolf’s Peak lay
quiet. Undisturbed.

His hackles prickled.

This whole thing felt a trap. It was too
easy.

Biting back the urge to snarl, Hunter picked
up pace. His keen gaze took in the pale landscape. The snow was
dappled with shadows and fallen branches. Brittle, yellowed pine
needles poked out from the blanket of white where the trees had
gotten too heavy with the weight of winter and had snapped under
the pressure.

Scent pocketed in the uneven ground and
Hunter paused to inhale the smells of the forest. The closer he
dared to pace to the marked trail, the stronger the scent of Rylie
and the rogue got. So far, it didn’t seem like the bastard had
varied.

Was he just that dumb or was Hunter missing
something?

He had to expect that Bree with all her Hound
training would come prepared to face him, that she wouldn’t be
duped by an amateur. He had to be hiding somewhere. Hunter picked
up speed as he neared the peak. Through the trees he could see one
of the small clearings with its snowed over picnic area and old
rusted grill stand.

He slunk along the edges, his tongue trailing
out over his teeth as he tasted the air. For the first time blood
touched his nose, sweat.
Rylie
. His wolf curled back his
lips to reveal fangs in a silent snarl. He’d get the bastard for
every mark he’d left on her.

The scent drew stronger and stronger,
wrapping around the trees, curling over the snow, it until finally,
crouched in a bush near the summit edge he spotted Rylie face down
in the snow. Blood smeared the white. He lifted a paw before he
could stop himself, barely holding his wolf back from charging out
into the open.

She was alone. Obviously hurt, but he could
see the slight rise and fall of her chest. Alive then. He scanned
the peak. The rogue had been here recently. He could smell it in
the wind. Hunter guessed the rogue had maybe left minutes ago, no
doubt expecting Bree to be early—just not this early.

Hunter cast Rylie another look. Red speckled
the snow around her. She was supposed to be his priority. The rogue
was up to Bree. But damn he hated to leave her blind, hated not
knowing where the bastard was hiding. Hated the damn waiting
game.

His paws flexed in the snow as he struggled
with himself, his claws digging little divots in the frozen earth.
You promised. Rylie first, then all bets were off
. Any other
Hound Hunter had ever known would have preferred to have someone
watch their back then give a damn about another shifter, but Bree
actually cared about the woman face down in the snow. And she
expected him to do as she’d asked.

Was relying on it.

He couldn’t change the game now, no matter
how much he wanted to.

But if this rogue did anything to Bree, the
moment he got Rylie to safety he was coming back for her—and he’d
make damn sure the rogue paid for everything.

Chapter Ten

Bree paused as the trail wound around a small
clearing. The rundown picnic table was covered with snow, but she
caught the scent of blood in the air. Stretching her magick, out
around her she searched for clues as she moved closer. There in the
snow just past the table she could see the struggle laid out in the
snow. Rylie must have decided to fight.

A small smile touched her lips. It hadn’t
been enough, but the girl had guts. Rylie had stayed alive this
long, Bree just hoped she was still hanging in there. Creeping up
the trail, Bree moved off into the woods. It was quiet.

Even in the winter, birdsong should have
stretched between the trees. Quite a few birds stayed year round,
hungrily nibbling at bird feeders and what food they could still
find. The silence was a warning in itself.

Gun in hand, Bree searched every shadow, let
her magic wrap around every snow bank, every tree as she moved.
Finally she saw the summit, the cliff the dipped out slightly over
the edge. A sign stood next to the stone edge
. The Summit
.
Descriptions and pictures filled the glass covered sign. Rylie lay
in the snow, alive.

Bree let her magick touch the woman. A steady
pulse. Good. She sensed Hunter next, hiding in the shadows. Then
beyond him, waiting in the fast falling darkness, a man. The same
dark, guarded presence she’d sensed in the ravine when they’d found
his lean-to and makeshift home. She couldn’t tell if he was aware
of Hunter or what, but something told her he could see exactly
where he’d left Rylie even if she couldn’t see him.

The moment she stepped into the clearing the
game would change.

She reached out with her magick. This time
she focused in on specifics.
Metal. Weapon. Gun
. She felt it
then. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she lunged
to the side. The sharp snap of a bullet eating wood sounded in the
quiet, followed by Hunter’s snarl.

“Get out of here,” she snapped at him,
ducking behind a tree for cover. Her gun pointed toward the ground
she took a breath to calm the pounding of her heart.

That had been close. Too close.

She glanced at the tree she’d been standing
in front of. He’d aimed low. A gouge bit into the bark somewhere
around knee level. Son of a bitch was shooting to wound? The slap
of his hand on her bedroom window, the calls, now this? He damn
well wanted to play with her first.

Bree traced her tongue out over her lips.
Tentative.

She wasn’t about to take a bullet so he could
play cat and mouse.

But right now she had one thing going for
her. He didn’t want her dead. Yet.

The closest tree that would offer her a good
standpoint of protection was another five feet to her right. It
would be a dodge from tree to tree and she couldn’t afford to cover
herself with gunfire. Both Rylie and Hunter lay somewhere between
herself and the rogue.

“Shit,” she breathed out and closed her
eyes.

New plan.

Pointing her gun toward the sky and raising
her arm she edged her hand out from behind the tree. “I just want
to talk.”

Stupid move,
an inner voice chanted at
her. She wasn’t sure this would work, but damn, she didn’t think
she could come up with anything better. And the moment he spotted
Hunter in that rifle’s crosshairs he’d have another hostage. She
had to work with what she could. Right now.

“Don’t shoot. I’m going to put down my
weapon.” She edged out from behind the tree, every prayer she could
think of running through her mind on replay as she stood out in the
open, both arms raised. “I’m just going to set it down.”

Her voice carried easily through the quiet of
the forest. Bree slowly bent over and set her gun on the snow and
then kicked it away. She glanced in the direction of the
still-hiding rogue.

“Come on. I want to know what I did for you
to make this personal.” She took another step towards the clearing.
Her legs felt like rubber, unsteady and uncertain with every step
she took. Damn. But he hadn’t shot her yet. “You have to talk to me
though. Why the phone calls? Why kidnap Rylie here? I don’t even
know her.”

Amazingly enough her voice was steady,
without the edge of fear running wild through her veins. Her magick
floated through the trees, stretching out, searching. She felt him
then. Roughly a hundred yards ahead of. She couldn’t see him, he
was well hidden, but she kept every ounce of strength and energy
she had focused on him. Her inner canine strained forward,
listening for any and every sound. Her magick wrapped around him,
waiting for that barest twinge of muscle before he’d pull the
trigger.

It was the only warning system she’d
have.

Her one shot to get out of the way if the
rogue decided he wanted her dead.

“Come on,” she called out again, taking
another shaky step in the direction of Rylie. If she could put
herself between the woman and him, maybe Hunter could have a shot
at getting his wolf to safety. “I don’t even know you.”

“You should!” His voice came like a whip out
of the forest, harsh and lashing. She flinched against the sound.
It was so filled with hate and anger it practically burned. “But
then again you always want to claim innocence. Always pretend you
didn’t know! Does it help you sleep at night?”

She took another step towards Rylie and then
another, doing her best to get between the rogue and the woman
lying prone in the snow. She tried to let his words roll over her,
but something in them stung. Pretend she didn’t know? There was
nothing about this man that rang a bell. She started to shake her
head when he moved. She felt the pulse through her magick a second
before she could hear him crashing through the forest. He shoved
into view, his gun leveled at her chest.

His eyes were wild and rimmed with red. Sweat
clung to his skin and clothes. He jabbed the gun in her direction,
his hand shaky, but she had no doubt when he pulled that trigger he
could hit her. “You’re such a lying bitch,” he ground out, spittle
covering his lips. “Don’t even look at me like that. You were
married to that bastard. You should have known!”

And there his words hit like a slap. She
jerked. He took another step towards her but Bree couldn’t move.
Her heart lodged in her throat as all the past guilt swarmed her.
This was about Caesar, what her husband had done.

Not her. And yet she couldn’t stop the
barrage of guilt that beat at her.

She
should
have known. She’d told
herself that a thousand times, but damn it, she’d finally come to
accept the fact that no one could have known what Caesar was going
to do—not even his wife.

It didn’t change the fact that she was sorry,
that she wished she’d seen the signs, that she could have stopped
him. But she
hadn’t
known.

“I’m sorry.” She didn’t move as she stared at
him. “Whatever Caesar did—”

“Don’t even do that!” He took another step
towards her, his lips curled back as he ground the words out
between his teeth. She could feel the fury emanating from him. He
shook with it. But as he kept walking towards her he walked right
past Rylie, leaving the woman out of the picture.

The closer he came to her, the more danger
Bree was in, but all that mattered right now was that Hunter could
get Rylie off this damned mountain without either of them getting
hurt. He had a shot now, with the rogue’s sole focus on Bree. But
to get Rylie to safety Hunter would have to leave Bree to fend for
herself. He’d have to do what he’d promised. Bree just hoped he
trusted her enough to know she could take care of herself.

She turned her focus back on the advancing
rogue, trying to ignore the fact that gun was getting closer and
closer. Her chances at getting out of range before he pulled that
trigger were dwindling with every second.

She turned the conversation back to him.
“Don’t do what?” Bree said, keeping her voice as soothing as
possible. She took a step back and he snarled.

The gun jabbed at her and her heart stopped
for a split second as she waited for the shot to fire. Instead he
just screamed, a half-roar, a half sob. It was a desperate sound
that seemed to tear through him. His breath came ragged as the
scream faded and his words were hoarse when they came, almost soft.
“Stop pretending like you didn’t know he was going to kill my
brother.”

She opened her mouth to tell him that she
didn’t even know who his brother was when she saw Hunter at the
edge of the clearing. His wolf stared out at her from behind a
bush. She forced her gaze back on the man in front of her. She
couldn’t risk giving Hunter away, though damn she hoped he’d shift
and get Rylie out of here.

Bree blew out a steadying breath. She had to
trust him to keep his word. She let all of her focus shift back to
the rogue closing in on her. She took another step back, giving
Hunter more space to work and hoping like hell the rogue was so
focused on her he wouldn’t even notice when Hunter came for
Rylie.

“Who was your brother?”

“Hale. Tristan Hale. Do you really need me to
refresh your memory?” The gun waved as he spoke, each word filled
with venom and hate. He wanted her dead, there was no question
there, but there was something else he wanted from her. Fear. An
apology. To admit she’d known.

None of that was something she’d give
him.

But he bulldozed on, as if convinced that if
he reminded her of her sins that she’d suddenly apologize. “Your
husband
, your
partner
, one of your own damn Hounds in
your little pack, slaughtered my brother and his wife. Do you
remember now?”

Oh, she remembered. Tristan and Carolyn Hale
had been her husband’s first victims. He’d slaughtered Tristan Hale
outside of his bar, and then Carolyn inside her own home.

She saw Hunter as a blur out of the corner of
her eye, human this time, and moving in a fast jog towards Rylie’s
still body. Bree took another step backwards, hoping to keep the
rogue focused on her, and started to shake her head.

She had to draw this out, had to keep him
looking at her and not on the woman behind him.

“You lying bitch.”

“I remember them from the news. Vaguely, but
I had no idea—” He lunged at her, severing the words mid-sentence,
and Bree just reacted. Muscle memory and instinct took over. She
caught his wrist and forced his gun upwards just as his finger
tightened over the trigger. She registered the gun shot even as she
shoved against him.