Page 11 of Rejected Moons (Rejected Moons 3)

I turn and head for the exit.

On my way to the door, I see something else—a plastic water bottle as tall as my forearm. It’s lying on the floor by itself, and I imagine it was part of a collection at some point, but all its brothers must have been taken. I pick it up and examine it. It doesn’t look cracked, but there will be no way to know for sure until I test it by filling it with water.

There’s a little mesh pocket on the side of my backpack that’s just the right size for a bottle like this. I tuck it in.

Then I head to the broken window at the front of the store, the place where I made my swift entrance last night. I brace my foot on the windowsill and jump out.

All around me, the world is quiet.

I know how deceptive that is, though. Just because I can’t see or hear any threats, that doesn't mean there aren’t any.

There are other wolf packs scattered throughout the city. Ours is far from the only one to have survived the Lunar Reversal. And because I’m a woman of mating age, I’m a commodity. Anyone who sees me is going to want me.

There are the Ravagers, of course. I’ve never met any Ravagers, but I’ve certainly heard enough legends to have a healthy fear of them.

There are covens of Moon Casters, using their magic to do unspeakable things. I want to find a coven, but I can’t let them find me first.

And, of course, there’s my own wolf pack. Still pursuing me. Still hunting me.

I’ve really got my work cut out for me.

I tighten the straps of my backpack and set off down the road.

Chapter Eight: EMLYN

Acrackofthundersounds overhead.

I look up at the darkening sky. I’ve been traveling through the city for two days, looking for signs of any Moon Caster covens, and so far, I’ve found nothing. I shouldn’t be letting that get to me, of course—two days is a pretty short amount of time for a search like this—but I’m starting to feel a bit frustrated by the whole thing.

And now this storm.

It’s only mid-afternoon, but I’m going to have to stop my search for the day and get inside to wait it out, or else risk all my things getting wet. Which wouldn’t be the end of the world, I suppose, but I’m probably not going to find any Moon Casters during a storm anyway. Might as well wait this out.

I’m in a residential neighborhood, so I choose a house at random and hurry up the porch stairs and inside. Just as I close the door behind me, the sky breaks open. I see a flash of lightning and hear the sound of rain beating down on the roof.

Great.

I can’t even make a fire to eat one of my alphabet soups—not indoors. Which is a damn shame. I opened my first can the night before last, and it was delicious.

Out of habit, I check all the cupboards in the house’s little kitchen. There’s nothing there, of course. There almost never is. I love hunting for my food—I’m good at it, and it makes me feel powerful. But sometimes it blows my mind that there was a time when people could just go to stores and get all the food they wanted. Whoever lived here, back before the Lunar Reversal, I’m sure that had cupboards full of food. It’s just that someone has picked them bare in the intervening years.

Below my feet, I hear the sound of something moving around. Claws on wood floor.

I freeze.

Rat?

I’m not too proud to eat a rat. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to cookthatup either in the present circumstances. But I could catch it now and save it for when the rain stops.

This house has to have a basement. That’s the only way something could be coming from below me.

I try a few doors until eventually I find the one with steps going down behind it. It’s dark down there, of course, but there isn’t much I can do about it other than leaving the door open to let a sliver of light down after me. I know that my eyes will adjust.

I creep slowly down the stairs, not wanting to scare the rat, or whatever it is. When I reach the bottom, I turn in a slow circle, my eyes glued to the floor, searching for movement—

Behind me, something yelps.

I let out a cry, spinning and stumbling backward at the same time, more startled than frightened. When I recover myself, I see that the noise came from a dog—no, not a dog. It's a wolf. And he’s locked in a cage.

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