Christmas Moon Page 2

  “You okay?” Hunter’s voice was soft when it came, a soothing murmur that seemed to stretch around her small kitchen, as if it could wrap her in its arms. Comfort her.

  Bree jerked her head in a slight nod just as the phone rang and she jumped, hating the spike of fear that shot through her. Damn prank callers. Just a kid, she reminded herself.

  She forced a smile to her face and turned to face him, cradling her mug in her hands as she brought it to her lips. “I’m fine.”

  The phone rang again, like nails over a chalkboard. The shrill tone lifted every hair along her neck. Something about the static that always greeted her on the other end of the line, the slow, steady breathing, unnerved her. Another ring.

  Hunter arched an eyebrow. “You need to get that?”

  “No. Prank call.” She forced her voice to be light, but the scowl that crawled over his face told her that her attempt at humor had failed.

  “Like the writing on your garage?” A dark undercurrent filled the question and he seemed to still, the wolf in him simmering just under the surface. She could see the animal in his eyes, the quick flash of irritation. He tilted his head toward the phone. “Do you mind?”

  She opened her mouth to tell him not to bother, but as the phone rang again a growl slipped out of him. His pack, he could deal with it. And it was better than going to Shifter Town Enforcement. “Have at it.”

  He made a gruff sound as he reached for the phone. “I will.”

  ***

  Hunter held back the wolf snarling inside him as he picked up the phone. Not only were these brats vandalizing her house, but they were harassing her too? Oh, he was going to have a word with them. Hell, it might not even just be words. They’d be shoveling his driveway and hers for the rest of the winter.

  He pressed the phone to his ear and waited. Silence greeted him, and then slow, steady breaths. In. Out. He waited, listening for anything that would give the runt away. Nothing. He opened his mouth to let the growl snake out when the phone clicked off. He glanced at the phone. Blocked number. Hunter ground his teeth as he tried to dial it back. Nothing.

  Now that was odd. He couldn’t think of anyone in his pack with a blocked number. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t find out though. He’d go through everyone’s phone records tonight. Hunter jerked his gaze up to hers.

  Breanne watched him, calm. Assessing. Nothing like the woman who’d jumped at the sound of the phone, or the woman who had looked so vulnerable when he’d walked into her kitchen. Standing with her hip braced against her counter was the woman he could easily see being a Hound. Someone he’d have dreaded knocking at his door.

  There was an intensity that flitted through her gaze, snaring his every move, and Hunter took a step toward her before he realized what he was doing. Just like that, the strength faded and uncertainty stole across her face.

  “I’ll figure this out,” he told her.

  “I’m not worried.” She tried for bravado, but he’d thrown her off with that step toward her. He wondered what she’d do if he took another. Then another.

  “You jumped when you heard it ring.”

  A laugh sprang from her lips, but it wasn’t a happy sound. Fake, tinny. It felt wrong and his inner wolf winced at the sound. “It’s not like the phone rings all that often.”

  He heard her heartbeat pick up as she spoke the words. A lie. “Breanne,” he said softly, taking another step in her direction and she stiffened. “How often do you get these calls?”

  “That’s none of your business.” She turned and set her mug on the counter, and he could see the inner war she waged with herself. The intensity was back in her eyes when she turned to face him, and this time her spine was straight with confidence rather than fear. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’d like you to leave.”

  Hunter cursed under his breath as he set the phone down on the table. His hands gripped the back of the chair where his coat hung. “You should report that. It’s harassment.”

  “And if it’s just a kid?” Breanne folded her arms over her chest, not at all impressed. Damn, but a Hound with morals. He’d never before known a Hound that cared whether the shifter was a kid or an adult, if they did something wrong, they deserved the punishment Enforcement could dish out. But here she was, willing to let it all go.

  Hunter nodded. “Thank you. I’ll see if I can’t get them in line. I’m sorry I pushed.” He tugged his coat off the chair and slipped it on. “Thanks for the hot chocolate.”

  “Thank you for the help.” She walked him to the door, no sign of the nervous woman he’d seen before. This was the woman he wanted to know. The one who’d been strong enough to survive in a world where her husband had murdered so many people right under her watch. The one strong enough to put her life back together.

  The one who still cared enough to protect a few shifter kids from getting in trouble with the local law.

  He touched her arm as she reached for the door. “Thank you for what you’re doing for them, but please. If they do anything else, let me know. You don’t deserve the bullshit.”

  And with that, he let himself out the door and headed back for his truck, trying to get the look of stunned disbelief that had flashed across her face out of his mind.

  Apparently he surprised her as much as she did him.

  Chapter Three

  Bree leaned back into the warm spray of the shower, her eyes closed as she rinsed the last of the conditioner from her hair. The house was quiet, sometimes almost too quiet. It wasn’t something that had bothered her, not until today. Turning off the water, she reached out and snagged a towel from the rack and pressed her face into the soft fabric.

  Letting Hunter Reed into her house had probably been a mistake.

  He wasn’t the kind of man who let things go easily. He probed and prodded. Had to know details. A small smile curved her lips. He’d have made a damn good Hound. The need for control, to know the facts, was no doubt what also made him a good alpha. It didn’t, however, make him the kind of person she needed in her life.

  A soft snort sounded from her as she patted her body dry and wrung out her hair. Helping her with the garage and a cup of hot cocoa did not make him in her life. Except for the small fact that she couldn’t shake him from her mind. She kept replaying their conversations, the expressions that had flitted over his face, and most of all, the hard look that had stolen his eyes when he’d realized his pack had been harassing her.

  Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped the towel around her hair and knotted it neatly on her head. She tugged out another and tied it around herself. A soft tap sounded on the window and Bree turned, her gaze automatically scanning the window. Nothing.

  A tree scratched the window again as she headed into her bedroom. It felt empty as it often did. She paused in the doorway, her gaze on the new comforter she’d purchased before moving to White Pine. She hadn’t brought anything with her that could remind her of Caesar and yet somehow, staring at her bed, she could still see the man she’d once loved.

  The one who’d laughed and teased. He’d read crime thrillers before bed every night. Had loved Brazilian coffee every morning. She closed her eyes against the pang in her heart. He’d killed so many people, but that hadn’t been the man she’d known. Before Arianna’s death, Caesar had been warm, loving. No one had ever made her feel so comfortable to be herself before him. And when they’d had Ari...

  A soft cry lodged in her throat and she pressed her face into the doorjamb. Bree swallowed down a deep, shuddering breath. Her little girl. She’d loved to listen as Caesar told Ari stories of princesses and dragons and fairy tales. God, but the two of them had made her so happy.

  Her fingers tightened on the towel tied above her breasts. Bree took another breath and pushed away from the wall. Dwelling on the past would never bring them back and the man that Caesar had become before he’d died wasn’t the kind of man she wanted back. But for once in a long time, she wanted someone in her life. She was tired of the solitude. Of
being alone.

  She rifled through her closet and dug out a pair of pajamas, letting the towel fall to the ground as she pulled the oversized white t-shirt over her head and slipped into a pair of baggy scrub pants. She turned to dig her slippers out from under the bed, the towel on her head tumbling to the ground in front of her when a soft thud sounded against the glass in her bedroom.

  Her heart froze for a second, her inner dog rising to the surface.

  She hadn’t let the canine out in months. But this time it brought a growl to her lips and simmered just under the surface, waiting to be let loose. Danger. Bree took a steadying breath, her slippers all but forgotten, and scoured the room even as she sidestepped closer to her bedside table.

  She could feel the fur just under her skin and her spine prickled. Nothing but darkness outside her window and the smallest sliver of a moon. Damn her.

  What had her so jumpy all of a sudden?

  The phone trilled in the living room and she startled. Stupid question. “Damn kids,” she muttered under her breath and knelt to scoop her slippers out from under the bed. Maybe she would let Hunter deal with the brats when he figured out who was behind this. She couldn’t even get ready for bed in peace anymore.

  The phone rang again but she ignored it, only to hear the sharp slap of flesh hitting glass. A scream built in her chest as she spun. A hand flattened over her window, only to pull back and smack it again.

  “Fuck,” she breathed. Years of being a Hound had left her reactions automatic. She moved quickly for the bedside table and drew out her gun, checking the chamber as she padded towards the window.

  In the second she’d taken her eyes off the window to glance at her weapon the hand had vanished. It had looked larger than a kid’s though. Her jaw tightened. Probably another wolf in the pack. But she was done cowering in her own house. Gun at her side, Bree headed toward the front of her house, shoving her feet in her shoes before she shoved her way outside.

  The cold winter wind hit her like a punch and she shuddered, almost tempted to go back for a coat. Her long red hair hung wet past her shoulders, soaking through her shirt. Not cold enough to freeze, but cold enough that her breath spun out past her lips in small wisps.

  Bree moved along the edge of her house, snow crunching under foot, with her gun stretched out in front of her in a double handed grip. She let the inner dog rise up inside her, called up the Hound magick that had lain unused for so long, and the darkness seemed to brighten. She could see the various shades of gray in the shadows, the spidery bare branches, the large footprints in the snow.

  Definitely not a kid.

  Bree curled back her lips, the cold press of metal in her hands reassuring. Somebody was playing with her. And it wasn’t just some pup.

  Her gaze cut through the darkness, watching. Waiting.

  ***

  Hunter stretched out into an easy lope, letting his wolf revel in the freedom that came with running over the snow. The red and green of his Christmas lights reflected against the snow, casting the shadows in shades of color. His breath puffed out in clouds behind him as he bent his head to the cold, crisp ground and inhaled. Picking up pace he left behind the lone house on the hill and headed toward the forest that stretched between his house and Bree’s.

  Pack territory stretched through most of White Pine and as Hunter wove through the trees a sense of peace surrounded him. Freedom. Home. The cold earth under his paws had him wagging his tail like a pup. His nose twitched as he scoured the ground, eager for a scent.

  A hare had passed through here not too long ago. His stomach rumbled. He’d had enough of the pack over at his house that somehow they’d managed to eat him out of dinner before he’d so much as had a bite.

  With a grunt, he turned down the trail, his tail swaying happily as he started the hunt. The night forest was quiet, but he heard the movement of a small critter up ahead and picked up his pace. His footfalls were light, fast, barely breaking the top of the hardened snow.

  The scent trail wove through a copse of small bushes and he angled toward them when he crossed the scent of another wolf. Male. Unfamiliar. Hunter froze, a snarl rising inside him as his ears flicked forward. It was fresh and as he stepped closer he recognized the signs of boot tracks in the snow. Whoever it was had blown through here in human form. He turned to follow when he paused, one paw lifted as he glanced back the way the wolf had come.

  What the hell was a rogue doing on pack territory?

  He scanned the barren winter trees, the scent of pine and frost burning at his nose. He pictured his territory laid out to the east and stiffened. Breanne Torres lived in the house closest to this point. It wasn’t that far from Hunter’s house, but the tracks were on her land. Fighting the urge to follow the rogue, he headed toward the lonely house and the single woman inside it.

  He had to make sure she was okay before he went hunting.

  Picking up pace, he ran in the direction of the small bungalow. He broke from the trees, just as he heard a sharp, “Freeze!”

  Hunter jerked, every muscle in his body stiff as he skidded to a halt in the snow, frozen. Breanne stood at the edge of her back porch, in nothing but baggy pants and a t-shirt, with her gun aimed straight at him. The hard look in her eyes every bit the Hound she’d once been. Nothing at all like the meek woman that had invited him in for hot chocolate.

  “Shift.” She snapped the word out, anger pouring out of her in waves. Not that he could blame her.

  The vandalized property, the prank phone calls, now someone snooping around her house.

  He glanced across the snow, saw the broken tracks stretched over her yard. It led rid up to the side of her house, the tracks traveling from window to window. His lips curled back and a growl poured out of him before he could stop it.

  “Shift or I will shoot.” The words were iron when they came and they jarred Hunter back to the present. He couldn’t deal with the bastard now.

  Right now, the only thing he could do was shift and try and talk her down. Hopefully avoiding getting shot in the process.

  Hunter took a deep, steadying breath and pulled the wolf back inside him until he knelt in her backyard, fully clothed, and human again. It was magick, pure and simple.

  Bree startled at the sight of him and he lifted both hands above his head.

  “It’s just me.”

  “And why are you lurking around my house?”

  “Because I smelled a rogue and followed his tracks here. Use your nose, Breanne. I’m not the one who was standing under your window.”

  She lowered her gun and a shiver racked through her as the wind played across the yard. His thick flannel shirt helped fend off the cold, but one look at her and she wasn’t wearing anything that would protect her out here. His attention drifted over her wet hair, to the soaked shirt, her nipples taut under the thin fabric.

  Damn. But that wasn’t a visual he’d needed. He closed his eyes for a breath, tried to wipe it out of his mind, but all he wanted to do was stride across the lawn and pull her close to him. Embrace her with his warmth. And hell, he wanted to do more than that.

  “Why don’t we go inside?” he whispered. Hunter forced himself to look her in the eye. “We can both get warm and you can tell me what happened.”

  She lifted her chin, defiant. “I want you to deal with your wolf.”

  “He’s not mine.” Hunter strode toward her, ignoring the way she stiffened, her gaze darting toward her window then the forest beyond him. “A rogue,” he added softly.

  Then he was standing in front of her, so close if he leaned forward he could take her lips in a soft kiss. It would be soft too, because Breanne needed gentle, soothing. Despite the anger swirling in her gaze, he could smell the raw edge of fear to her. She needed comfort right now.

  He reached out and touched her face. Her skin was cold to the touch and this close he could see the constant trembling running through her. “Let’s go inside, you’re freezing.”

  His thumb trailed o
ver her cheek right under her eye and Bree relaxed into the touch, her eyes drifting shut. A strangled breath caught in his throat as he stepped closer, his other hand slipping to her hip as he pulled her against him. She was so cold, but he had no doubt that wasn’t the only reason she was shaking. His lips brushed her forehead and when she didn’t make a sound in protest, he slipped his hand down to her jaw, tilted her lips up, and stole a soft kiss.

  Just a quick press of his lips on hers, there and gone. But it left him shaken, wanting more, so much more.

  Bree didn’t protest as he pulled her to his side. “Back door unlocked?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  Her voice was hollow when it came and he wanted nothing more than to get her inside.

  Hunter led them around to the front of her house, but as they rounded the corner he let his gaze drift out amongst the surrounding forest. No one stared back at him from the darkness, but he’d be damned if he let this slide. Rogues weren’t welcome on his land.

  And they sure as hell wouldn’t be allowed to harass what was his.

  He flashed the darkness a feral smile before leading Bree back to the warmth and safety of her house.

  Chapter Four

  Bree was shivering so hard her teeth were chattering by the time they made it inside. Her gun shook in her hand and she couldn’t help the small bubble of laughter that came from her. Even if she’d had to shoot, she doubted if she’d have hit anything at all.

  She pulled away from Hunter and strode into her living room, setting the gun on the coffee table. She tugged the over-sized afghan off the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders. It didn’t help. She couldn’t stop shaking.

  Then Hunter was in front of her, his hands on her shoulders as he turned her toward the couch. “Sit.”