Page 30 of Wolf Hunted (Rejected Moons 1)

I don’t know why I’m so sure it’s the place to be. It’s instinct more than actual logic driving me there. I don’t want to be wet. But the thought of water feels safe, somehow.

I’m probably being ridiculous. If it was a river, I could travel downstream, and the wolves wouldn’t be able to track my scent. But what am I planning to do, swim across that giant lake? There’s no chance of it.

Still, I run until I reach the beach, and then I run all the way down to the water. I splash through the surf until I find a stretch of rocks, and I hole up between two of them, taking shelter from the elements there.

I close my eyes and breathe deeply, doing my best to let my heart return to normal.

I can’t believe I survived that.

But I know it’ll be a long time before I manage to sleep, and I can’t help wishing, once again, that Nate was here to take a watch.

Chapter 20

NATE

“Nate!”Paulsaysfrombehind the bar as I enter his little establishment.

I look around the place furtively. “Hey, Paul,” I say. “Has Butch been here?”

“No,” Paul says. “I haven’t seen any of your pack in weeks. I was starting to think you were too good for my brew.”

“Your brew’s the only game in town,” I point out. You can tell by looking at the faces of the buildings that remain that this city used to be full of bars, but now you can’t get a drink anywhere unless you distill your own alcohol or go to Paul’s. I’ve tried making my own stuff a few times, but it always comes out near-toxic, and Paul’s actually good at what he does, so whenever I can get away, I prefer to visit his place.

One of the biggest perks of being on my own now—no one can tell me I can’t come here.

“What did you bring me?” he asks.

I hold up a dead rabbit, which I caught on the way here. “What’s this good for? Five drinks?”

Paul laughs. “Five? Try two.”

“Come on, Paul. I’m one of your best customers!”

“I’ll make it three if you fix the leg of that stool,” he says, pointing.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s wobbly.”

I nod. He’s giving me an easy job here, and I recognize that. He’s acknowledging that, actually, Iamone of his best customers, and he wants to help me out. “You got it,” I say. “Drinks first, though, and work after?”

“You’d better not blow me off.”

“I won’t,” I assure him.

He goes to his little still, takes down a glass, wipes it out with a rag, and fills it up, then brings it back to me. “That’s one,” he says severely. “Don’t think I’m not counting, now.”

I pick up the glass, steel myself for the bite of the liquor, and knock back the first third of it in a quick gulp.

The older members of my pack tell stories about liquor sometimes, late at night when we’re all sitting by the fire, when they get sentimental about the good old days. The way they describe it, they make it sound like some kind of magic. Dozens of different flavors, some of which went down almost as smoothly as water does. They mock the stuff we drink now. They call it swill.

Itishard to choke down. But after a few swallows of it, I feel my mind start to unsnarl and my body start to relax.

“What’s been going on since I last saw you?” Paul asks.

I shake my head. I definitely don’t want to get into everything I went through with Emlyn. I came here to forget about her, not to dwell on it all. So what if she’s the sexiest woman I’ve met in months—maybe ever? There are other women out there. I’m not hung up on her.

And I’m not going to tell Paul what’s going on with me and my pack, either. I like the guy, but he’s definitely a gossip, and I don’t want word getting around that I’ve decided Butch can go to hell. Even though Butch himself probably knows by now that I’m not going to come back, he doesn’t need to hear what I have to say about him.

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