Page 11 of Vicious Luna

Maybe Matty would be up for the job. We still haven’t filled Ben’s vacancy in any official capacity, and what better way for the kid to prove he’s deserving of a promotion than to assume the responsibilities of the prospective position? I make a mental note to suggest it to my dad as I enter the cavernous darkness of my room, heading straight for the desk to drop my laptop off and finishing the rest of my coffee. The whiskey is most potent in the last couple sips, burning its path down my throat and settling warmly in my belly.

As I swivel back around, my eyes catch on Ben’s side of the room, that familiar tightness clawing at my chest as I stare blankly at the bed he’ll never sleep in again. That empty bed reinforces why I’m doing this; why I have to keep my head in the game.

For Ben.

This isn’t just about werewolves anymore, it’s about my own personal mission to avenge my best friend’s murder. There’s no room for failure.

By the time I make it back to the kitchen, Griff and Adams have already cleared out- hopefully to join their team for training drills- and I find Matty there instead, standing at the kitchen island arranging a stack of crackers on a plastic tray.

“Hey,” he greets as I enter, his eager blue eyes meeting mine as he reaches up to ruffle the chestnut strands of his hair. “I heard you were dealing with our hostage, but I figured I could lend a hand by prepping her meals, if you want?”

Once again, I’m impressed by this kid’s initiative. Keepingmy expression neutral, I give him a tight nod. “That’d be appreciated, thanks,” I respond.

I mean, it’s obvious that he’s just trying to kiss my ass at this point, but it’s also working. I glance down at the meager rations on the tray, my jaw ticking over.

“Since we’ll have this one for longer, we might wanna consider giving her a little more to eat,” I murmur. “Keep her better hydrated, too.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Matty agrees, throwing a thumb over his shoulder and backing toward the fridge. “I could make a sandwich or something real fast, if you give me a few minutes?”

I shake my head and lift the tray from the counter. “Nah, this is fine for now. We can give her something more substantial for dinner.”

Matty nods in understanding as I turn away and start for the basement, slipping my cold, detached hunter mask into place before keying in the door code to head down. I need to stay on mission here; remember what my objective is. This is all just a means to an end.

Grabbing the keys to the holding cells off the hook inside the basement door- because I resisted the urge to pocket them last time I left- I flick on the light switch at the top of the dim stairwell, illuminating my path down. The Luna’s cell comes into view when I hit the bottom step, and I find her standing in the center of it waiting for me- arms folded across her chest, hip cocked, and angry scowl firmly in place.

“How’s my little beastie this morning?” I ask with fake enthusiasm, approaching the bars to her cell with the tray and keys in hand.

Her scowl deepens and she makes a growling sound in her throat.

My lips curve in a smile. Clearly, that nickname strikes a nerve, so I’ll be sure to use it a lot more often fromhere on out.

“Go put your nose against the wall,” I instruct in a monotone, flicking my head toward the rear of her cell.

“Fuck you,” she snarls.

“Feisty this morning, huh?” I muse, leveling her with a harsh stare. I hate repeating myself, but this girl seems determined to push back at every opportunity. “Nose against the wall, or I won’t be opening the door to give you this,” I say, holding eye contact while wiggling the tray back and forth tauntingly. “Your call.”

She glares back at me for a solid minute, her big brown eyes blazing with defiance. Even when she finally gives in, heaving a furious sigh and spinning around to stomp toward the back of the cell, she’s still radiating ferocity. Most prisoners show signs of wearing down after the first 24 hours, but not this one. She’s going to be a challenge to break.

A ripple of excitement runs through me at the thought of it.

The Luna stomps toward the back of the cell angrily, stopping short in front of the wall. “Happy?” she huffs.

“No,” I reply flatly. “Nose against the wall, beastie.”

Her fists clench at her sides, muscles bunching up with tension as she seemingly grapples with whether to comply. She’s clearly stubborn as fuck, but she’d be foolish to let it get the best of her when food and water’s on the line. She must recognize that and decide to choose her battles, because she slowly leans in closer to the wall until the tip of her nose is almost touching the concrete, her posture stiff with defiance.

Good enough.

I could be a prick and force her to close the distance, but I’m choosing my battles here, too. I also need to move this the fuck along because now that her back’s to me, I can’t stop staring at her perfectly round ass. Slipping the key into the lock, I turn it over with an audible click, pushing the door open halfway and stooping to set the tray on the floor. I wait a beat before closing it up again and re-locking it, tempting herwith a false opportunity for escape. Testing her impulse control.

She spins back around to face me, her expression murderous, but she doesn’t take the bait. She remains rooted to the spot she’s standing in at the rear of her cell, glaring daggers at me as if looks could actually kill.

Good thing they can’t, or I’d be joining Ben in hell sooner than I’d hoped.

I smile back at her tauntingly as I swing the door closed in front of me and twist the key in the lock, pocketing it. “The concrete walls are eight inches thick,” I provide, glancing around the interior of the cell. “And these bars?” I grab onto one, giving it a hard tug in demonstration. “Reinforced steel.” Meeting her gaze again, I toss my opposite thumb over my shoulder toward the stairwell. “One way in and out, and it’s coded, so stop trying to look for a way to escape. You won’t find one. Instead, maybe you should focus on what information you’re going to give me in exchange for letting you live another day.”

I take a step backwards, folding my arms over my chest. “But first, you should eat.”

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