Chasing The Moon (6 page)

Jackson looked at her quizzically. “I suppose that’s possible, but what would be the point?” She shrugged. “Lust. Power. Greed. Control. Take your pick.” Billy groaned and sat in a chair, face buried in his hands. After a moment he looked up. Staring into space, he muttered under his breath, but the words were clear and alarming to Jackson.

“So she won’t be free until Wyatt’s dead.”

“You are not going after Wyatt.” Jackson sat on the edge of the desk and stared Billy down until he finally nodded in agreement.

“I told her I wouldn’t,” he said tightly.

“That’s why you’re ready to take everyone’s head off? She asked you not to go after her mate?

Maybe that should tell you something, man. She’s with whom she’s supposed to be with.” Billy gave him the steady stare he was more accustomed to, the one that told Jackson he was fully in control of himself and absolutely sure of what he said. “No. She doesn’t belong with him. She’s afraid of him. Of me. Of all men as near as I can tell, and she hasn’t always been. Wyatt did that. And now she’s stopped going to work.” He stared at his hands a minute and gulped. “I’m afraid he’s hurt her.

I
will
kill him if I find out he has, Jackson.” Standing, Billy met his gaze before walking to the hall door.

“Hey, where you going?”

“Down to the basement.”

He didn’t look back as he pulled the door closed with a soft click behind him. Jackson exhaled a pent up breath and glanced over at Summer. She stood still, the only sign the scene might have bothered her was the way her teeth worried her bottom lip.

Taking one of the chairs in front of his desk, she cocked her head to one side. “What’s in the basement?”

“We have a gym down there. He probably went straight for the punching bag.” He walked to the mini fridge in the corner and pulled out two bottles of water. After twisting off the lids and dropping them in the waste can, he took the armchair next to her and handed her one. He drank down half of his before he spoke. “So how do I fix this?”

He laughed at the expression on her face. He’d finally stunned her speechless. “Cat got your tongue?” he teased.

She shook her head as if clearing a thought and frowned at him. “Are you actually asking me for advice?”

“Yes, Summer,” he answered seriously. “You are my mate, and you seem to know more about this than we do. You’re the expert, right?”

She took a deep breath. “I suppose I am. I don’t see how I can help, though. There is only one way to break the bond. We had a spell, but…”

She shrugged, and he was glad the bitterness from a few days ago was gone from her voice. The thought of that spell gave him nightmares. That wasn’t the answer. Worse was the idea that a werewolf could pick the wrong mate. Or would do so intentionally. If that was true, and he had no reason not to believe Billy, then anyone could have claimed Summer before he even met her. A fist seemed to grip his heart.
Thank God I already bonded with her.

“You’ve seen this before?” He was proud he kept that moment’s panic out of his voice.

She paled under her tan and pressed her lips together. “Once.”

“Your grandparents?”

She forced a laugh. “No. I don’t think so. I think those two just started off wrong and it escalated into a full out war.”

“Who then?” he prodded, when she didn’t continue.

She shook her head, like she was getting rid of a memory. “A few years ago in the Panhandle.

The girl was the Alpha’s daughter, and one of the weres who was in line for his position bonded with her.

It was okay for a while. They got along.” She paused for a drink of her water. “Then a Hunter came through.”

Jackson didn’t know if he wanted to hear the rest. There were few that could take on a Hunter.

“The girl realized right away. So did he, of course. There was a challenge, and she was hysterical. She had to be sedated.” Summer’s eyes took on a far away look. “The Hunter won, but it caused a lot of turmoil. People suddenly wondered about their own bonds, and there was this great big rift between the woman and her pack. She grew up with those people and it was a blow. The Hunter took her away. I don’t know what happened to them.”

Jackson felt triumph on behalf of the Hunter for winning his mate, but he doubted Summer shared the feeling. He turned so she couldn’t see his reaction, which had to reflect more than his agreement with the Hunter’s action. He’d do the same in his position.

The idea that a werewolf would bond with someone who was not his destined mate was deeply disturbing. Worse that someone in his pack may have done so; it was the most horrible of taboos.

Bonding with a woman, that one particular equal, bordered on sacred. He remembered the old tales told around the fire when he was a cub. Stories of the gods deciding to create a perfect counterpart for the werewolves, a match that would become so important to them that the old ways of fighting and bickering were forced under control. The mate bond served to tame some of their more primitive natures.

If Wyatt had bonded with a woman who was not his destined mate, Jackson would be forced to act. In what capacity, he had no idea. He’d never heard of or witnessed such a thing. His wolf side wanted to let Billy handle it, knowing it would come to a death challenge and sure of the outcome. The human side that had to control a pack of three hundred was less sure that was a great idea. Later he would contact the Elder of the Council and seek advice, but he was tempted to say fuck it, give in to his animal nature, and deal with the consequences.

Shaking his head, he decided nothing could be determined without collecting a lot more information. There was an elder werewolf in the village who may be able to help, and he could use the opportunity to take his witch around to meet the locals while he was at it.

She still sat in the chair, pensively staring out the window. He recognized her as his mate the way his species was supposed to—she existed in him down to his very marrow. She had to feel it too but, after hearing the story of the Hunter and his mate and the little he knew of her grandparents, he was beginning to understand her reticence. Dreaming a dozen possibilities of the future couldn’t help her state of mind. He’d probably made it worse by keeping her locked up in the house. She was safer here, but she resented being treated like someone who needed to be protected. She’d have to get over that; it was one area that he couldn’t bend.

“Find your jacket and let’s get out of here for a little while.” Waiting for her decision, he held his hand out to her, and his heart stopped beating. It slammed back into life when she placed her long, delicate fingers in his and slowly rose from her seat. Her eyes were wary, but a smile tugged the corners of her mouth.

“Is it cold out?” Her low, husky voice almost made him reverse the spur-of-the-moment invitation. A fire and a day spent in bed sounded a hell of a lot better.

“It’s not too cold.” He looked her up and down. She was wearing a cream-colored high-necked cable knit sweater, jeans, and brown, short-cuffed boots. “You should be okay with a windbreaker.” Slipping her hand from his, she walked into the bedroom and rifled through the end of the closet she’d taken over. She came out with lightweight pale blue jacket and pulled it on. They went downstairs and her expression lightened as they walked outside. She walked down the front stairs to the driveway and stood still, spreading her arms wide and tilting her face back to catch the sun. He leaned against the porch rail and watched her, not trying to hide his stupid grin. She was magnificent. And she was his.

When she straightened, she grinned up at him, her body language a complete one-eighty from ten minutes ago. Rolling back on the heels of her boots, she joked, “So now what? Laps around the yard?” He laughed. She might be happy with that. For about a minute. Walking down the steps, he took her hand and led her around the corner of the house. Under a wide stone arch, a dirt path led down the side of the mountain.

“I thought we’d visit the village. It’s about a mile and a half. Think you’re up for it?” Pulling her hand loose, she took off down the path.

I’ll take that as a yes.
He caught up and walked at her side, enjoying the quiet moment and watching her reaction to his domain. After a half mile, she started to slow down and pay attention to their surroundings. The next turn coming up was a popular stopping place, with a huge boulder several people could lay across on one side. She stopped and leaned against it, accepting with a smile of thanks the water he brought along.

“So what do you look like in your other form?”

Squashing down a surge of adrenalin-filled joy, he joined her on the rock, wondering how to answer. In the normal course of events, he’d expect a mate’s curiosity about his wolf form to be a step toward acceptance. But Summer was hardly normal. It could be that step he yearned for, or her scientist’

s inquisitiveness. Either way was in his favor, he decided. Maybe the way to lure her out of her shell was through her work.

“I have no idea.” He grinned. “I’ve never seen myself in a mirror as a wolf.”

“Hmm,” she murmured, watching him thoughtfully. He wondered if she’d ask to see him change?

“Have you seen the change before?” he asked.

She shook her head. His wolf clamored at him, wanting the freedom of the animal side, needing to stretch its legs after days of confinement. He made a split second decision and started stripping. When he was naked, he rolled everything into the small backpack he habitually left the house with and handed it to her. Eyes wide, she accepted it and broke into a reluctant grin.

“You’d do that for me? Let me see it?”

“For both of us,” he said. He nodded at the backpack and grinned. “Hang on to that. I need clothes where we’re going.”

Stepping back, he embraced the transformation already beginning in his body. His bones and muscles contorted, changing to those of the wolf, and he dropped onto four paws. The wolf threw its head back and howled.

Chapter Five

Awe froze Summer in place. The wolf’s call was a claiming of the land he stood on, of all that lived in it, including her. He was huge; his shoulders would reach her hip if he stood at her side. His coat was thick. Black and gray on his back and face blended into brown and white down his sides and belly.

At the end of his cry, he sat on his haunches and watched her. She almost wept for her lack of camera.

She’d always been drawn to wolves; found them majestic and spent years studying them, trying to figure out what their hold over her was. Her past rushed at her and when she took her first step toward him, she knew this was a continuing part of her lifelong journey. Her whole life led to this moment, this choice. She paused when she reached him, yearning to dig her fingers through his fur but unsure if she could take the final plunge into a murky future. Sinking to her knees, not touching him but within easy reach, she looked up to meet his eyes. The longing there that mirrored her own would have knocked her on her butt if she wasn’t already there.

She gave into temptation, pushing fingers through the hair around his muzzle, and the memory of one of her first dreams of him rose in her mind. Not this scene, but one like it. She and the wolf on a path in the woods, surrounded by the pure white of new snow. He licked her face, startling her out of the reverie, and she laughed. Even in the form of a wolf, he gave her the look she was coming to associate with his annoyance at her silence.

“You expect me to talk to you like this?”

He gave her a big-toothed wolfy grin, and she giggled.

“I’m suddenly getting this whole Little Red Riding Hood vibe.” The wolf made a sound between a snort and a grunt that she took for laughter. She sat in the dirt and laughed with him. It was surreal. She had always wanted to be able to do a more in-depth, personal study of a werewolf. But being bonded to one, though it gave her the exposure, threw a major wrench in her plans. With her world spinning way out of her control, she laughed until she cried. The wolf nuzzled her face, licking away the tears in a gesture she found oddly comforting. Shaking off the weird emotional outburst, she rose to her feet. They started down the path, her hand buried in the thick fur at his nape.

Switching back and forth down the mountainside, she was surprised at how quickly they reached the bottom.

He took the bag between his teeth and stepped behind a clump of trees, while she looked around. The village lay nestled between mountain peaks. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but the rustic Alps-looking scene wasn’t it. Jackson joined her on the path, dressed again with the bag across his back. Taking her hand, they set off down Main Street, Jackson pointing out businesses as they went. A grocery store, a general store, post office, health and vet clinics, hair salon and clothing store, a pharmacy

—it was a preserved slice of small town America. The town bustled with activity, and Summer was charmed. People nodded and said hello as they passed but no one asked for an introduction, and she wondered at their restraint. Was this some cultural aspect she’d never been aware of? Was there a required procedure for introducing a mate? Her stomach twisted. It better not be some kind of public ceremony. She didn’t do crowds.

“Um, Jackson? Is there a reason no one is speaking to me? Some secret new mate ceremony I don’t know about or something?”

She cast a suspicious gaze at him when he laughed. He sobered immediately. “No. No, there isn’

t. You’re just getting a...call it a free pass, since it’s the first time anyone’s seen you. Next time you’ll be the center of attention.”

Since they’d cleared the tree line and entered the town, she’d felt gazes following their progress.

Shivering a little under the watchful sensation, she cut her eyes at him. “We’re
already
the center of attention.”

They came to the end of Main Street and turned down an ally with a large house sitting at the end. He glanced back up the main thoroughfare, then met her gaze, nodding slowly.

“Yeah. I guess we are. I’m so used to it, I don’t notice it anymore.” She bit her bottom lip. She was such a private, solitary person, she doubted she’d ever adjust to it. Her witch’s perception made it worse. Looking up, she brushed the worry aside and concentrated on the house they approached. It was a long ranch-style, with a deep porch stretching across the entire front.