Page 10 of Vicious Luna

Yup, definitely human. Definitely a dickhead, too, and one of the shifter hunters. I figured as much, but it’s good to have confirmation. At least it’s not some new, unknown enemy to contend with. Then again, the fact that these guys have had a decade of practice killing shifters doesn’t exactly bode well for me.

I level him with a glare, reaching up to wrap my fingers around the cold steel bars between us. “You’d better let me go, or a whole lot more of those rabid animals will be at your doorstep looking for me,” I snarl.

The corner of his mouth ticks up. “Oh, we’re counting on it.”

Bile crawls up my throat.

The guy winks at me again, slinking back a step and stooping down to grab the empty beer bottles from the floor, kicking the metal folding chair further away from the bars in the process. “Well, as fun as this was, I should probably go get some sleep,” he remarks, putting his back to me as he gathers the bottles in his arms. “You might wanna do the same, I’ve got a big day planned for us tomorrow.”

A shiver runs through me at his insinuation, and he glances back at me over his shoulder with a wicked smirk. “Sweet dreams, Luna.”

7

The next morning, I wake up with that same uneasy feeling from the day before, along with the added bonus of a nasty headache that feels as if someone’s pounding their fists against the inside of my skull, trying to split it open and crawl out. Which is why ten minutes later, I’m tipping a healthy pour of Jameson into my coffee from my perch on a barstool at the kitchen island.

Yeah, I told my dad I’d dry out, but… baby steps. At least I’m having coffee with my morning whiskey today.

Recapping the bottle, I set it aside, lifting the steaming mug to my lips as I bring my focus back to the screen of my laptop resting on the granite counter in front of me. I’ve got the video feed of the basement pulled up and the Luna’s awake, pacing the length of her cell while undoubtedly searching for a way out. She won’t find one, but it’s free entertainment to sit back and watch her try.

I wonder what’s going on in that pretty head of hers right now. Pity I can’t crack it open to find out.

Even though I’m fully aware that my behavior is already starting to border on obsession, I can’t help myself. I tend to jump into new projects with both feet when I’m trying to distractmy mind from something else. It’s probably not the healthiest coping mechanism, but it is what it is. All the anger and grief I’ve been carrying over the last two weeks since losing Ben is now being funneled into this new task of mine as the Luna’s handler.

I slowly sip my spiked coffee as I watch her on the video feed. She paces toward the window, then turns around to face the camera again, her shoulders drooping as she exhales a sigh and leans back against the wall. She wraps her arms around herself, rubbing at her biceps.

Is she cold?

I reach up to twist my hat backwards on my head so I can lean in even closer to the screen, my eyes flickering up to the top right corner. The temperature reading estimates that her cell is a comfortable seventy degrees. The Guild’s research has demonstrated that werewolves can tolerate much cooler temperatures than humans, but here I am again, forgetting which this girl is.

The problem is that she just looks so damn unassuming. If we crossed paths in some other place, I’d be struck by her beauty, but I’d never guess that a soulless killer was lurking beneath that stunning façade.

She doesn’t look the part of a monster.

I suppose that doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, though. Both pretty birds and feral beasts need to be caged- either to protect them from the world, or to protect the world from them. She’s exactly where she belongs, and try as she might, there’s no chance for escape. Not on my watch.

Footsteps sound behind me, but I don’t look up from the video feed as I continue sipping my coffee. A couple of Guild foot soldiers pass by me as they enter the kitchen- first Cody Adams, then Kyle Griffin- but the latter rocks back a step, doing a double take.

“Holy shit, is that her?” he chokes, staring wide-eyed at my laptop screen.

I lift my gaze just in time to see Adams stop in his tracks, turning back around to blink curiously in my direction. “Who?”

“The Luna,” Griff replies as he moves in closer to get a better look at the video from over my shoulder. “Get over here, bro, you’ve gotta see this…”

I grind my molars in irritation as Adams rushes to investigate, crowding in over my opposite shoulder to peer at my computer screen. On it, my captive is now pushing off from the wall, the hem of her shirt lifting to reveal even more of her slim, tanned stomach as she stretches her arms over her head.

“Damn, she’s hot as fuck,” Adams comments, snickering a laugh as he claps a hand down on my shoulder. “I can see why you wanted to take point on this one, dude.”

“You gonna fuck the information out of her, Knox?” Griff chortles, flicking the brim of my backwards baseball cap teasingly like we’re buddies or something.

I swat his hand away in annoyance, snapping my laptop closed. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not into bestiality,” I mutter, sliding my stool back from the counter.

“Well hey, if you want any help with interrogating that one, I’ve got a few ideas,” Adams muses, stroking his goatee with a smirk.

“Don’t you two have somewhere to be?” I grumble as I rise to my feet. Sliding my laptop off the counter, I tuck it under my arm and pick up my coffee cup, then turn to give the two of them a pointed look. “Last I checked, Delta team was doing formation exercises this morning.”

They stare at me like a pair of deer caught in the headlights, which is a welcomed change from the cringeworthy frat boy impersonation I just witnessed. Shouldering past them, I head toward my room, leaving them to sweat over whether they’ll be in trouble later for fuckingaround instead of reporting for duty on time. Fucking useless, both of them.

Once we wrap up this current mission, my dad and I seriously need to re-assess our plans for the future of The Guild. I can’t stomach dealing with guys like Adams and Griffin long term; not without Ben as a buffer. He had a knack for assigning random tasks as busy work to keep idiots like them out of my way.

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