The Hunter's Moon (The Secret Warrior Series) (9 page)

Jimmy considered. “You must really need help bad here.”

A slight smile crossed Okema’s aged countenance. “Indeed. You will also train. Jackson and Hawthorne will aid you both.”

“No school?” Jimmy brightened.

“For you, some of the time.” Okema fixed his inscrutable gaze on Morgan. “For her, not until she has mastered much.” He leaned near and spoke in her ear. “I know what you saw. Feel your fear. You must master this beast and join the Wapicoli in our battles. The Panteras will attack you and your brother at their first opportunity. They would destroy us all.”

“Why all of you? Are you also witnesses?” she whispered.

“Not as you, yet we have seen much. The Panteras are longtime enemies of the Wapicoli. And the Morcants. They killed your parents.”

A tidal wave of incredulity swept over her. “It was an accident.”

“The truth was hidden from you. They also killed Jackson’s mother and grandfather. They have slain many.”

Too stunned to reply, she opened and closed her mouth.

“You can never go back into witness protection. Your only hope lies here.”

She found her voice. “What if the government sends out agents to find us?”

“They will. And shall find your burned-out vehicle. If this fails to satisfy them as to your fate, we cannot allow them to take you.”

She read the truth in his timeless gaze, like the sheen of stars in the heavens. “Then here we stay. With your aid.”

He nodded his approval. “In return, you will pledge your allegiance to the Wapicoli.”

“Agreed.”

Jimmy looked questioningly from one to the other.

She spoke again to Okema. “I think you had better tell him, too. He’s very smart.”

“Morcant males are always clever,” he said under his breath. “They must be to protect themselves from the females,”

As she’d feared.

He inclined his head. “Very well. Jimmy Morcant, prepare to hear much you will not understand.”

Freckles stark in his pale face, he nodded. “OK, Okema.”

The others at the table leaned in, intent on his words. Perhaps they thought Morgan’s presence would add a new twist to the old story.

She glanced at Jackson. His eyes seemed to will her courage. She’d already seen and heard more in the past twenty-four hours than anyone could possibly absorb, but she steeled herself for more.

Okema’s gaze grew distant, as if he were journeying way back. “The Panteras descend from an ancient line of Spanish pirates. After many years of sailing the seas and plundering ships, they raided the American coast. They were victorious, until the British Royal Navy vowed to hunt them down and hang each one.” Here, he paused and made a slashing motion across his throat. “Or cut off their heads.”

“Awesome.” Jimmy appreciated the gory touch.

A faint smile, and Okema continued. “Their ship was heavy with treasure, too heavy to outrun the swift vessel giving chase. In their haste to escape the navy, the Panteras wrecked on the Virginia shore. With their ship badly damaged, and the British in pursuit, they fled inland to hide the treasure.”

Jimmy lit up, but bit back the
ding, ding, ding
, he often chimed before giving the answer. “I bet they hid it in these mountains in a cave!”

“They did, clever one. But pirates fight among themselves, and their numbers declined.”

“They couldn’t have killed off every single man, or none would be left,” Jimmy argued.

“True.” Okema seemed mildly impressed with the kid. “Some lived. But pirates are also restless, from all their sailing. They took what treasure they could carry and left these mountains. Except for one. He remained behind to guard the rest of the treasure. The others thought to return, but did not. They stayed in the city, until one recalled the story of the treasure. And they grew greedy.”

Jimmy pounced like a sharp-eared cat. “They don’t know where it is, do they?”

“No.”

“The one who stayed knew.” The kid was on a roll.

“Yes.”

“He lived, didn’t he?”

“He did. And wed a woman. They had children. His descendants are the Mountain Panteras, led by Santiago, named for the one who remained. The city Panteras formed a gang.”

Jimmy made his about to barf face. “Led by Mateo.”

“The two groups war with each other. Both attack the Wapicoli and the Morcants. Santiago lives in a rocky fortress, more of a hideout then a home. He and his kind have women and children with them.”

Morgan bet government agents and social workers didn’t mess with them. “Did they spend all the treasure? Is any left?”

“Pirates are hoarders of gold. Some treasure remains. This the other Panteras desire.” Okema cast her and Jimmy a significant look. “There is one more thing you must understand about the Panteras.”

She was afraid to ask. “What?”

“They are the Panther People.”

Jimmy scrunched blue eyes together behind his glasses. “You mean like
real
panthers?”

“Quite real. When they wish.”

“So shifters.” Morgan had a sinking sensation. Panthers could climb trees, had slashing claws, tearing teeth, high speed, the advantage over a lone wolf. A pack was essential.

Okema’s forbidding expression confirmed her silent conjecture.

Jimmy was far more matter-of-fact about this startling news than she’d expected. “That explains the panthers in the woods. What about the wolves?”

Okema tapped his chest and gestured at the circle. “These are before you, except for the women. More Wapicoli live in the mountains.” He rested his hand on Morgan’s head, sending a near electric current surging through her. “Soon, your sister will transform, like us.”

“Cool,” Jimmy said, then caught himself. “Wait—does Morgan know what to do?”

No one answered in the affirmative.

Concern veiled his initial enthusiasm. “Isn’t that kind of dangerous?”

He had no idea.

Chapter Nine

Mastering Archery—or Not

Morgan’s arrow zinged out of sight. “Crap. Where’d it go this time?”

Afternoon sun filtered through the canopy of orange and yellow leaves, but she couldn’t blame blinding light for her pathetic miss. Hawkeye Jimmy hit the center of the circle on his last shot. Her arrow had bypassed the target entirely. Again.

Lips twitching, Hawthorne pointed overhead. “There.”

“How the heck?” She craned her neck to glimpse the feathered projectile in the tree. Only the few remaining shreds of dignity kept her from hurling the bow after it and pitching a complete fit.

“I’ll go, Morgan.” Jimmy had lived with her long enough to recognize the warning signs of an impending meltdown.

Not only was the kid fetching her arrow, but making a speedy getaway. If the other two were smart, they’d do the same. She wanted to break something.

“Back in a nanosecond.” Propping his smaller bow against the silvery-barked sycamore, Jimmy sprang up and grabbed the lowest branch. He scrambled onto that limb, and reached for the next.

Jackson gave a low whistle. “You’re scaling that tree like
Spiderman
, Jimbo.”

“Yeah. He’s a natural at everything,” Morgan muttered.

“You’ll catch on. It’s only your second day at archery.” Jackson squeezed her shoulder.

She shrugged his hand off. “No one could possibly be this bad without trying to fail.”

After hours spent in these trees, with only short meal breaks and a night’s rest before they were back at it again, she was no nearer to mastering the sport—or, in her case, a potentially lifesaving skill. All this time with a hot guy, two, if she counted Hawthorne, and for what? All she’d accomplished was making a fool of herself. That much, she’d done quite well.

Hang it all
. She’d rather give up and go eat supper, even caught the whiff of something delicious on the breeze. But Jackson had knocked himself out trying to coach her, and Hawthorne had lent support when he wasn’t smothering a smirk.

“Sorry, Jackson. It’s not your fault I’m abysmal at this. I appreciate your efforts. But I don’t have the luxury of time. None of us do, if we’re readying for battle with the Panteras. Face it, I’m not the next Katniss Everdeen.”

“Nope,” he admitted. “We’d have heard the cannon boom for you by now.” Indicating her demise.

“However, no one in
The Hunger Games
was a werewolf,” Hawthorne added. “Gives you a distinct advantage.”

“Right. Just aim me at the Panteras and fire away.”

A thoughtful look in his hazel eyes, Hawthorne considered. “That might actually work, if you’re as badass as they say.” He hadn’t yet glimpsed her inner beast.

“Oh, I am. Like a newbie on
Teen Wolf
. The worst ever.”

Hawthorne grinned. “Well, fix this in your wolf brain.
Wapicoli good. Panteras bad
,” he emphasized, patting his chest,
Tarzan
style. The leather vest he wore over a long-sleeved white Henley shirt was similar to Jackson’s attire.

“And don’t believe all you see about werewolves on TV. Wapicoli are unique,” Jackson cautioned.

“Guess so, if you originally came from the Star People. I saw a werewolf, or a creature resembling it, on
Monster Quest
once.”

Hawthorne rolled his eyes. “That show only gets a kernel of the story right. Jackson and I have laptops and internet access. For a hoot, we watch old episodes.”

“Really?” She perked up a little. “I haven’t had the time or energy to ask about PC’s. Good to hear you’re on the net.”

“Unofficially,” Jackson amended. “Hawthorne can hack Wi-Fi and any other signal floating around.”

Arrow in hand, Jimmy sprang to the leafy ground. “A computer geek? Awesome. Me too.”

“Yeah. Who knew? Now there are two of you.” Morgan slid the arrow into her quiver. “What about the other Wapicoli?”

“The older ones want nothing to do with new ways. They stick to tradition.” Jackson peered at the lodge, barely visible through the leaves, the smoke from the chimney rising above the trees, then returned his focus to her. “But the kids and teens like us are cool with it. None attend public school and are taught by the clan. Some take online classes. We do as little as possible to draw attention to ourselves.”

She nodded. “Do you have cell phones?”

“Burners.”

“Disposable phones? Sweet. Can I have one?”

He eyed her doubtfully. “The one rule we dare not break, on pain of banishment, apart from unauthorized attacks on humans, is to avoid all social media and no email. As long as we obey, the elders tolerate our electronic devices.”

Arching on her toes, she pleaded with him. “I can do that. I’ve kept a low profile since entering witness protection. Haven’t I, Jimmy?”

“Yep. E.T. never phoned home.”

A smile flickered at Jackson’s mouth. “You must prove yourself first. Another thing. No one from the outside can ever know of Okema’s existence. How do you register a guy his age for a driver’s license, personal I.D., or anything?”

“You don’t,” she agreed.

The wind ruffled Jackson’s hair where it had pulled loose from his ponytail. “None of us are exactly
normal
. We don’t want anyone nosing around, especially government officials with their rules and regulations.”

“What if they do?”

Looking like a model for outdoor life, Jackson shifted from one all-terrain boot to the other. “Okema put a shield around the lodge that makes it invisible to people, but as his power wanes we’re more vulnerable to human interference, the Panteras, other werewolves—”

Morgan started. “Wait. There are others?”

Jackson and Hawthorne exchanged glances, then Jackson spoke. “Werewolves reach back to the dawn of man. There are those, like us, capable of nobility. Others are every bit the monsters you imagine.”

Uneasiness stirred in her. “Are any besides your clan in these mountains now?”

A shadow crossed his expression. “Not near enough to scent, but we’ve heard rumors some are scouting for territory.”

She swallowed hard. “The bad sort?”

“Bad enough to keep us on our guard.”

“No wonder the lodge is built like a fortress.”

“Exactly. Occasionally someone, or something, breaks through our defenses.”

Apprehension knotted her gut. “And?”

“Several Panteras, a really bad werewolf, and an overly snoopy government agent are buried out back.”

“Jeez Louise,” Jimmy said under his breath. “Did they send more agents?”

“No. The F.B.I. concluded his disappearance is gang-related. Okema took care of him. Of them all. And upped the shield around the lodge, but it can only withstand so much.” Jackson laid a hand on Morgan’s shoulder and gazed into her eyes. “When the heat overtakes you during your change, strive to remember who your friends are. Fight for your pack, which now includes us. We need each other.”

Heat was already overtaking her from being this close to him. “I’ll try my darndest. I swear it by all that’s sacred.”