Hunter's Moon (13 page)

“Both. So fucking what? Just because they’re not as smart as you or me, they deserve to get slaughtered?”

“I didn’t say that. Don’t put words in my fucking mouth.”

“Speaking of which….” Erin crossed her arms over her chest, taking a thorough look at Kieran until he squirmed a little. “So, you’re a lycan’s mate. A guy’s predestined companion for life. Now what?”

Raking a hand through his non-existent hair, Kieran growled. “Damned if I know.” He glanced at the mansion behind him, the peaceful appearance belying the underlying dangers. “But I do know I have to be with him. Somehow. The thought of not being near him….” He shuddered. “Apart from what you saw—and that was private, by the way—I have never been with a man. Sure, I understand the logistics of it….”

Erin laughed. “Logistics? God, Kay, you really need help on this one.”

“Fuck you.” But inside Kieran had to admit she had a point. “Look, the, um, sex stuff, I’ll work that out on my own. It’s other stuff that I could use your help with. Like… what do I do for money from now on, and—”

“Coincidentally, my boss has a few ideas about that,” Erin cut in, smiling. Kieran had almost forgotten how her face softened into the girl she had once been when she let go of the harsh expressions. At times Kieran felt like he had betrayed her for not being there for her when she was younger and getting beat up by their asshole of a father. He felt that way even though she was older and craftier than he was. If any one person could survive nuclear holocaust, it would be Erin.

But now Kieran had a whole new set of reasons to apologize to his big sister. While he had been busy cashing in on his hunt of mythical beings, she had been occupied in saving them. She definitely had the moral high ground on this one, despite his bad experiences with super-dangerous and harmful creatures. Maybe he just didn’t understand them.

“So, my big sister is a Keeper.” Kieran quirked an eyebrow. “Who’d a thunk it?”

“Cut that shit out. I can still kick your ass on my worst day.” Erin made a show of air-slapping him, and he dared a chuckle. Then pain shot through his ribs, and he hissed with the unpleasant sensation of it. “The Keepers have doctors with them, Kay. Want me to call one of them here to take a look?”

“Nah. I’m good.” He had had enough probing and hassling and physical intrusions into his personal space for one day. “I just need some rest, that’s all.” Peering toward the side entrance of the estate again, he frowned. “And I need to make sure Gabe’s all right. What he did for me inside…. It’ll kill him.”

“He’s a tough one,” Erin commented, standing at his side.

She emanated protective waves, and Kieran had missed her more than he had guessed. “I’ve missed you, Erin.” Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his arms came into contact with hers, and it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Me too, you big lug. You know, anarchist or no, I have a phone. Several, in fact.”

“What? Like
your
hand is broken, or something?”

Giggling, she shoved him with her arm, and he pushed back, snickering. Unfortunately, Kieran was in no condition for roughhousing or horseplay, so he turned to face her and grew serious. “Let’s not become strangers, okay? I hate that I don’t know what’s going on in your life. Like, are you seeing a guy?”

“I’m a lesbian.” Kieran actually heard his jaw click when it fell open as he stared at his big sister, wide-eyed. Erin chortled like a hyena. “God, Kay, you’re still the easiest dupe this side of the Mississippi.”

Kieran growled. “Bitch.” Then he was laughing, too, so hard his sides hurt.

“Here.”

A man spoke to Kieran, startling him. The leader of the Keepers was remarkably tall and refined for such a young man. He could not have been more than twenty-five, but he had an air of class about him, an impression Kieran was unable to dispel. The formal black suit and blue tie he was wearing just confused the issue more, as Kieran didn’t yet know what kind of animal he was looking at, even after giving the guy a double once-over.

At his side, Erin leaned in, nudged him with her elbow, and whispered, “What did you expect? An ‘I’m on Team Jacob’ T-shirt?”

“Fuck. Off,” Kieran ground through gritted teeth while plastering a civil expression on his face.

Smiling courteously, the man offered Kieran a small glass of dark red liquid. “You are wounded. This will help.”

Suspicions of all kinds ran through Kieran’s mind even as he took the glass and sniffed the liquid, a tangy, metallic odor reaching his nostrils with ease. “What is this?”

“Gabriel’s blood. As he is your mate, the blood will heal you instantly.” While Kieran was busy holding back a wave of nausea, the Keeper kept his tone composed and dispassionate, as if it was commonplace for people to be handing blood over to others to heal them from their injuries.

“Where is he?” Kieran did not particularly like this man. His instincts were on high alert with him, as though he were someone to be dreaded, though Kieran could not understand why he felt this way. The reaction within him to be on guard was purely automatic, and it was a side of him he had learned to trust early on in life.

“A car is on its way to take him home as we speak—” the Keeper began.

“What?” Kieran shoved the glass of blood to Erin, who awkwardly took it, and he stomped past the man toward the driveway where several black armored SUVs still stood with Keeper guards nearby. “You let him leave without speaking to me?”

“Kieran, it was his wish.” The man’s voice behind him was apologetic, yet composed. He had no personal stake in this affair between Kieran and Gabriel, so he only followed protocol.

And in his heart Kieran knew the man wasn’t lying. He had seen Gabriel’s face, the guilty, defeated expression he had sported after killing Deck. But the truth was that whatever this bond was that existed between him and Gabriel, Kieran knew running away solved nothing. And yet that was precisely what Gabriel had just gone and done. Well, Kieran wasn’t about to take that lying down, for he was a warrior at heart—and though a battle had been won, the war was far from over.

“H
E
’
S
here again, Gabe.”

Climbing down off his sorrel American quarter horse, Gabe looked at his youngest brother, Rafe, who stood by the barn doors, leaning against the fire-engine-red wooden walls and giving him a hard time with just a look from under his straw cowboy hat. His expression, both sympathetic and challenging, annoyed Gabe to no end as he walked the horse into the stall, removed the saddle and the reins, and started to brush him. “I don’t want to see him yet.”

Rafe chuckled and shook his head, chiding, “You can’t keep ignoring him. Because I don’t think he’s going anywhere.”

“Your brother is right.”

Gabe stiffened and stilled his hand when he heard Kieran’s approaching voice, deep and threatening. The only image in his head was the look he had worn when he had witnessed the beast within Gabe killing a man. No matter what his face might say now, there would always be that memory, and Gabe didn’t know how to dispel it. Kieran may have been his mate, but he was not gay. He had his own life to lead—as a mercenary, no less—and a part of him was afraid of Gabe.

How on earth can I ever face him again and stay stoic?

“You’re not going to talk to me now? You’re not even going to look at me?” Kieran’s accusation hurt Gabe, so he mustered his centuries’ worth of experience and forced himself to turn around.

Kieran looked exactly as Gabe remembered him, with his fierce features, eyes of steel gray and sky blue, depending on the lighting, his tall, strong, and streamlined body—this time in blue jeans and a gray sweater—and his attitude to match all attitudes. His face had healed, so he must have ingested Gabe’s blood. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

Gritting his teeth, Kieran fisted his hands at his sides, clearly trying to hold on to his composure. “Whose fault is that? I have come here five days in a row, and you refuse to see me? What the fuck is that about?” Rafe snickered at the barn door, listening to the profanities-ridden conversation with clear amusement, and Gabe wished he had his shotgun. “At the cabin you got what you wanted, and now it’s ‘so long, see ya’? Didn’t that mean anything to you?”

Even after living for so long that some days felt the same as a million days before, Gabe still found himself tongue-tied. Giving a pointed look at Rafe, he said, “Take care of Quill, will you, so I can talk with my… uh, with Kieran?” He offered the brush to his brother, who came forward, took it, and started to brush the horse, but still made no attempt at not listening.

Extending his hand in a this-way gesture, Gabe led Kieran out of the stables and up the stone stairs rising behind the structure to the ridge. Scents of pine trees whiffed in their direction, and to Gabe that smell was home.

In his heart, he knew his mate should have been his home, but Kieran just wasn’t.

Up on the ridge, the view opened up in both directions, from the wide open range, the river, and the mountains in the north to the Howling Creek Ranch and the small town of Connor’s Crossing, known better among the residents as Conxing, in the south. Folks in town said the name used to be Blue River Gorge, but for some reason it had been changed back in 1896. The sandy, rocky ground threw up little dust clouds as they reached the top, because the air was so dry, and pine trees surrounded them, tall and thin enough to allow for the splendid sight to all compass points.

There was a lookout spot where a sleek wooden bench faced the range, and it was there that Gabe sat heavily, for the first time feeling every one of his nearly four hundred years. Quietly, Kieran sat next to him, but Gabe could hear from his breathing that the man was fuming mad.

“You named your horse Quill?”

Kieran’s attempt at civility was appreciated, and Gabe let out a small sigh of relief. “It’s short for Tranquility.”

“Uh-huh.” Kieran leaned back, watching the tall, light-green grass of the range below the ridge waving in the wind. “Sounds exactly like you.” His grunt could have been for a number of reasons, and Gabe tensed again. “All cool and peaceful and shit.”

Unwilling to postpone the inevitable, Gabe said, “I thought I should give you time and space away from me. You were afraid.” Kieran gave him a sharp look but said nothing, waiting. “When I… when I killed Deck. I sensed your fear—”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Kieran murmured, cutting in, shaking his head in frustration. “I wasn’t afraid
of
you, dumbass. I was afraid
for
you.” Shocked, Gabe faced Kieran, and their gazes locked. “’Cause you’re so damn good and decent and kind and perfect—and you just killed a guy. And you did it for me, for fuck’s sake. I figured you’d come to the swift conclusion I wasn’t worth a damn after making you whack somebody, and then you’d shun me.”

“I, uh, I didn’t realize…,” Gabe mumbled, feeling ashamed again.

“No, ’cause despite all your good qualities, sometimes you just don’t listen. You just shut me out. You—the King family negotiator and peacemaker—cowering like a—”

“Now wait just a minute,” Gabe said out of the blue, turning his whole body to face Kieran, who did the same, warily. “I wasn’t….” His voice trailed off as Kieran frowned, his eyes flashing in that metallic way they did. Gabe sighed. “All right, yes, I suppose I did… kind of. The thing is, you and I, um, we don’t really know each other—”

“I know.”

“We have nothing in common—”

“I know.”

“I mean we live completely separate lives—you on the road hunting my kind of people and me here on the ranch raising horses—”

“I know.”

“You’re not gay—”

“I know.”

Gabe’s face heated up from hearing Kieran say the same words too many times in a row. “So, what on earth are we doing here?”

Kieran threw his arms up, and his voice rose as he said, “I don’t know!”

Gabe felt awestruck. “You do realize that makes no sense whatsoever?”

Kieran lowered his gaze to the ground, sort of kicking dirt around with the tip of his army boots. “Look, it scares me that we’re mates, okay? It terrifies me that you have hundreds of years of experience accumulated, way more than me. I feel like a child compared to you. I’m kind of freaked out about all this. Yeah, I admit it.” He lifted his gaze and watched Gabe so intently that Gabe shifted uncomfortably. “But I’m not running away, okay? Because I also know that being without you is way worse than being with you. With you I feel weak and disoriented and happy and so fucking wigged out. But without you…? I feel like I can’t breathe, like my heart can’t beat. You and me… we can’t
not
talk. I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do or what will happen between us, but I’m asking you now: Are you gonna run from me?”

Blinking because it felt like his eyes were filled with grit and sand, Gabe slowly shook his head, embarrassed beyond words for his lack of courage. “No.”

Kieran’s shoulders relaxed. “Good. ’Cause I got tons of questions.”

Gabe leaned back on the bench and exhaled slowly, keeping his eyes on the range for the sake of his peace of mind. It was indeed better this way, with Kieran doing the asking, instead of Gabe filling the man’s head with information he may or may not have wanted to hear, let alone absorb. “Shoot.”

For a moment Kieran was silent, and Gabe feared the worst. “Back at the mansion, I got this feeling that there was more to it than your refusal. I mean, not biting Adler to change him.”

Anxious and reluctant to speak about this now, Gabe sat up straighter, fiddling with his hands in his lap. “It’s not true that if you’re bitten by an Alpha you become an Alpha too.” That was only part of the truth, and Gabe knew he had to go all the way with his mate, or Kieran could never trust him. He knew this, and in spite of that he was aware the whole truth could ruin any chances he had of happiness with his mate. So he chose his words carefully, not allowing himself to go too far. “There are bites, and then there are bites. But what the world around us doesn’t know….” Brushing his cowboy hat back from his forehead, he took a deep breath and said, “A lycan can only alter a human who is his or her… mate.”