BrightBlueMoon (5 page)

His companions didn’t respond, but Michael’s ire flared. Jack was the caretaker for the handful of rental cabins that dotted the mountain – Jack who was alone at home in the middle of the night with his pregnant mate. With
Mandy
. The thought of her being disturbed pissed Michael off even more than being interrupted himself had.

Turning to Kimberly, he pulled his shirt over his head, then unbuttoned his jeans, yanking them down over his hips.
 

“Stay right here, and keep the door locked – I’m gonna hurry down the mountain and warn Jack.”

Kimberly’s eyes went wide as he stood naked, still hard and aching for her, but determined to shove those feelings aside – temporarily – in order to defend his family. “Why don’t you just call?” she asked, reaching for her phone.

The ghost of a growl threatened to escape, making his throat itch as he thought of Gus shoving his foot between the door and its frame. “The rest of the pack has headed back to their cabins by now – Jack and Mandy will be alone. I gotta go – I gotta be there in case those idiots in the SUV try something.” What the hell they were up to was anyone’s guess, but clearly, they were stupid. Maybe stupid enough to be dangerous. No way was he sitting at home while they went to harass his pregnant daughter.

“I’ll come with you.” Kimberly took a step toward him.

“Can’t.” He shook his head, a wave of frustration slipping over him as he acknowledged the fact that he’d have to leave Kimberly alone. “Driving would be too slow – they’d get there before me. I’m going on foot – as a wolf, I’ll be down the mountain in no time as long as I stick to the woods.” He barely restrained a humorless grin.
 

Slowly, she nodded. “All right. Just be careful – remember what Jack said about staying away from the area where the hiker was found.”

“I’ll be fine. Make sure you keep the cabin locked up. If they show any signs of turning around, I’ll be back here before they’re halfway up the mountain. Promise.”

In the blink of an eye, he shifted, slipping into the lupine form that had in many ways become more comfortable to him than his human one. He snatched up his jeans and shirt in a bundle, gripping it between his jaws, just in case he needed to confront Gus and his crew as a human once he reached Jack and Mandy’s cabin.

Still aching for more of her touch, he disappeared into the night, experiencing the tiniest spark of relief when he heard the
clack
of Kimberly locking the cabin door. If he’d been able to talk, he would’ve sworn – abandoning her, even for a short period of time, was the hardest thing he’d done since the first time he’d left her behind.

* * * * *

“Morning, Sunshine.” Michael’s voice carried across the room to Kimberly, a deep burr seasoned with a rural Georgia drawl that jumpstarted her heart as she rubbed sleep from her eyes.

She’d always loved his accent. It was softer than the twang she’d grown up hearing in her native Tennessee – more lilting, melodic – irresistible. When he spoke, she felt the heat of the Deep South tingling in her veins, warming her from the inside out.

“Morning.” She blinked, straining to make out his form as her sock feet slid against the floorboards. He was at the other side of the kitchenette – cooking, from the smell of it. As the scents teased her, memories from the night before drifted back to her, blurry around the edges, just like him.

His arms around her, the warm press of his body against hers in the dark…
 

She hadn’t meant to fall asleep after he’d left to warn Jack and Mandy about the rude tourists, but the search for the missing hiker had exhausted her and she’d lain down on the bed to rest…

Disappointment lanced through her consciousness, sharp and stabbing. She’d been burning for him when he’d left, after they’d been interrupted. How could she have fallen asleep?

He’d joined her in bed, but they’d only slept – she barely remembered him coming in and lying down beside her.

“Why don’t you pull up a chair and have some breakfast? Coffee’s done brewing.” Michael motioned toward the coffee maker, which she could barely make out.

“I’ve got to put in my contacts first.” She headed to the bathroom, where she’d stored her lenses in a drawer beneath the sink. Once she had them in, she could see clearly.

And there was a lot to look at. She sucked in a breath as she walked back into the kitchen, eyeing Michael as he slid several strips of bacon onto a plate. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt that clung to his frame of lean muscle, showcasing his athletic body. He’d stayed up late and risen early – their extended hike the day before hadn’t even winded him.

She, on the other hand, felt the resulting burn in her calves and thighs, even after a decent night’s sleep. It was the price of being human … and forty-nine.

“How did it go at Jack and Mandy’s last night – did those tourists show up?”

Michael nodded. “Yeah. Showed up and pitched a big fit. That Gus Oliver idiot had called Jack’s boss demanding a cabin. The guy told him this mountain’s been busy lately, but he could stop by and ask Jack if anyone had left early. He knew Cabin Number 4 would be empty soon, so…”
 

Michael’s broad shoulders rippled as he shrugged, clearly irritated. “Jack told them there were no cabins available. Gus didn’t take it too well, but there was no blood spilled.” He shrugged again, like that was the best possible outcome anyone could’ve hoped for.

“Talk about rude,” Kimberly said, irritation flaring inside her as she thought back to the night before and what the tourists had interrupted. If it hadn’t been for them, she and Michael wouldn’t have stopped, wouldn’t have spent the night merely sleeping. Maybe then she would’ve woken feeling satisfied – happy – instead of disappointed in herself.

“Yeah. Two eggs or three?”

“Two.” She rose, made her way to the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t nineteen anymore, like she had been when she’d first met Michael at King’s Whiskey Grille, the bar where she’d waited tables and he’d performed with his guitar. She wasn’t twenty, either, like she had been when he’d disappeared. She was far from it.

“You sure? We’ve got plenty.”

“I’m sure.” She sipped her coffee and watched him crack two eggs, the roped muscles and sinews in his forearms shifting as he moved, just as strong as they had been then. Stronger, even – he’d been young then too, and had filled out some since then, though he still retained the same athletic grace that had attracted her to him in the first place.

He’d spent years on the run, locked in combat, while she’d lived as a thoroughly human single mother in the city. There was no question who was in better shape – she was still slim, thanks to the tall and lean family genes she’d inherited, but after the night before, surely he’d realized that she wasn’t the girl he’d fallen in love with ages ago in Nashville.

Deep down, she’d known that all along, but after a confusing, almost magical week spent in the mountains with him, it hurt to feel reality being driven home.

“Here you go.” He served up two scrambled eggs. “Just how you like ‘em, right?”

She nodded, eyeing the dark flecks of pepper that dotted the fluffy yellow mound. “Thanks.”

It was flattering that he remembered how she liked her eggs, though if he recalled such a mundane detail about her, surely he remembered everything – the young woman she’d been, and how she was different now.

“I know you like tomatoes fried up on the side,” he said, settling at the table with a plate of his own. “We didn’t have any, but I can make a run to the store later today – pick up some to have on hand for tomorrow.”

She shifted in her chair as another uncomfortable reality zoomed to the forefront of her mind. “Tomorrow’s Sunday – I have to head back to Nashville, you know. I have work on Monday.”

She’d taken a chunk of time off for Mandy’s wedding; her time in the Great Smoky Mountains was just about at an end. She’d tried not to think about that too much over the past few days – being reunited with Michael had been all-consuming, enough to drive thoughts of the life she’d built without him from her mind.

“
Mmph
.” Michael made a sound of acknowledgement, if not understanding, as he raised a cup of black coffee to his lips. “Almost forgot.”

That probably wasn’t true, but maybe he’d only wanted to forget, just like she had.

“You know…” she said, summoning all the courage she had, forcing herself to address the subject. The city loomed in her thoughts just like the mountains and Michael loomed in her heart, and in some subconscious corner of her mind, she
had
given the matter of her departure some thought. “Maybe it would be best if—”

Her phone rang, vibrating against the nearby counter and filling the air with a familiar melody. Thinking instantly of Mandy, she rose.

“Hello?”

It was Mandy. Unlike last time, she hadn’t called at Jack’s behest, though she
had
called because of him.

“Are you sure?” Kimberly asked, taking in what her daughter was telling her. “That sounds … bizarre.”

“I’m pretty sure, mom. Jack’s getting really bent out of shape. I thought it might help if you and dad came over now. If you’re not busy, I mean. I know Jack’s planning on getting in touch with the entire pack, but I don’t want to risk Daniel being the first to arrive on the scene – I know he’s Jack’s beta, but he’s a real hothead, and Jack’s temper is already being tested. I don’t want to have to scrape Gus Oliver off the ground and explain to the police why he’s been beaten senseless.”

“Okay.” Kimberly eyed her breakfast regretfully. “We’ll be right over.”

CHAPTER 4

Leaves crunched under Michael’s paws, the soft noise discernible to his hyper-sensitive ears. The film crew at the bottom of the ridge didn’t hear a thing – their human senses were too weak, and it’d be just about impossible to hear anything over Gus Oliver’s manic squawking.
 

Yeah, he was in the woods, stalking Gus Oliver and his crew. It was a far cry from tracking shifter hunters, but the watching and waiting – the suspicion tingling in his bones as a breeze swept through his fur, causing it to ripple against his spine – were familiar.

“Over here, Alex! Nobody gives a shit about the roots of a freaking maple tree. Keep the camera trained on me!” Gus’ voice echoed through the forest.

“Ash,” said the tall redheaded man who’d been with Gus the night before.

Gus’ already red face darkened, going almost puce. “What’d you call me?”

“Ash,” Alex said, slowly swiveling his camera on its tripod, an expression of distaste on his face as he trained the thing on Gus. “The tree is an ash, not a maple.”

Gus threw a hand in the air. “Whatever. What are you – a freaking boy scout? Just do your job. Where’s Serena?”

The dark-haired girl from the night before scuttled into view, standing squarely in the middle of the clearing where the hiker’s body had been found.

“Get me a towel, will you?” Gus wiped his brow with the back of his fist, sighing as Serena turned to do his bidding. Seconds later, he was scrubbing his forehead with a towel. It wasn’t too warm out, but he seemed to have worked himself into a sweat with all his yelling and gesturing.

According to Jack, Gus had gotten an early start on making an ass of himself by showing up in the woods with his entourage at just after sunrise … and trespassing on Half Moon Pack territory.

Michael had honestly feared he might have to intervene to prevent Jack from brutalizing Gus. The man had shown up at Jack’s doorstep the night before and thrown a fit over lack of cabin rentals on the mountain, then he’d returned a few hours later and lumbered onto private property with his cameras and crew.

There was no question about it – Gus was on Jack’s shit list. The film crew didn’t know it, but they were under heavy surveillance – Half Moon Pack surveillance. Glancing away from Gus and to his right, Michael eyed Jack, who managed to look pissed, even in his wolf form. Beside him, Daniel and Noah – his cousins – looked grim too.

They’d tracked the crew to this part of the woods, and Jack no longer seemed to care about avoiding the area. Sheltered by rock, trees and underbrush, they watched from one far side of the rocky ledge that formed the ridge the hiker had tumbled over.

“Ready yet?” Alex drawled as Serena spirited Gus’ sweaty towel away.

Gus nodded, took a deep breath and looked directly at the camera.

“We’re rolling.”
 

“Tennessee’s Great Smoky Mountains,” Gus began, speaking in a practiced monotone that was worlds away from his usual squawk. “Home to the country’s most visited national park … and something more. Lurking beyond the scenic trails frequented by millions of tourists each year is a danger no one saw coming until it was too late.

“Here where I stand, hiker Braden Spencer was found dead less than 24 hours ago. Driven to the edge of the drop-off above me, he fell … and was attacked. What drove Braden off the beaten path and over the edge? Clues left at the scene paint a terrifying picture. Bite wounds on Braden’s body and distinct paw prints left in the earth he died on have investigators scrambling for answers.
 

“As always, we at Monsters 24/7 are prepared to join the fray and expose what goes bump in the night. The hunt starts now. In 24 hours, we’ll know what, exactly, is killing tourists in the Great Smoky Mountains.”