Page 86 of Moon Tamed

Why would I give you any warning?

Armed with a rather small paintball gun capable of holding only a few rounds, I entered Mr. Stephans’s office, confirmed he was alone, and pretended to hand over the morning itinerary, something we’d done from the day after my promotion.

He reached for the folder, and with a smile, I hit his chest at point blank range. As desired, the baby blue ball exploded against the black of his suit. Pretending nothing had happened, I said, “Your first hunt is in thirty minutes, and you will be expected to accurately and honestly record all of the points.”

As Calden had handled the settings for my paintball gun, he’d promised the round would thump into his father with a small risk of leaving a bruise in addition to ruining his suit. Trusting that he wouldn’t hurt his father on purpose, I set up for a second shot and squeezed the trigger, adding a second blue splotch on his chest. “I do believe that equates to five minutes immunity from retaliation, Mr. Stephans?”

With owl-wide eyes, the leader of the Hunters regarded his ruined jacket and shirt. “You shot me.”

“Twice,” I confirmed.

“Without warning. You shot me without warning.”

I made a show of checking the wall clock. “The hunt started twenty minutes ago, officially, sir. Why would I give you any warning?”

He plucked at his jacket and heaved a sigh. “Calden put you up to this, didn’t he?”

“Oh, no, Mr. Stephans. I want to win, and if I want to win against you, I have to play within every rule you set and do it better than you do. I plan on adding a complete section to my report regarding your performance at this hunt. Are you sure you’re the undisputed ruler of this faction?” I raised a brow and regarded my two shots, then made a show of blowing off pretend smoke from my paintball gun. “If I win, I rule over this faction for at least a week. But don’t worry, I’ll give it back.”

“I have no idea what has gotten into you, but I’m going to record your points and pretend like I know nothing of your ambition. But be aware, Miss Patten. Revenge is coming.”

“If you say so,” I replied, making sure my doubt oozed out of every word. “You’re expected on the fifth floor in twenty-five minutes, so try not to be late.”

Leashing Calden and keeping him close did an excellent job of deterring the other Hunters, who struggled to make sense of their leader’s son prancing around as a wolf. The collar, which we’d picked up from a pet store on the way back to the city, matched my collection of paintballs for my little gun, which I reloaded after every ambush I sprung on any Hunter unfortunate enough to cross my path.

Generally, I shot Calden’s father and enjoyed every moment of it.

Calden’s leash, which was covered with white, fluffy pom poms and counted as a horror show, induced hysterical laughter on my part every time I had to use it. Laughing while hunting my co-workers resulted in me being shot with paintballs more often than not.

Most aimed for my bare, lower legs, sacrificing my shoes rather than the knee-length pants I’d chosen to wear because Calden liked them so much.

I showed no such consideration for my fellow Hunters, and they didn’t seem to mind. I suspected the wolf keeping me company had something to do with that, as he’d curl up a lip and displayed his teeth for anyone who didn’t go with my flow.

For my first hunt, I took my wolf into the maze, where my job was to shoot my brother with as many paintballs as I wanted. Someone had given me two new paintball guns, both loaded with the baby blue balls I’d claimed as mine. Unlike me, Peter wore a full set of protective gear, which he’d need by the time I finished with him.

Peter got a five minute head start, which wouldn’t help him, as I came armed with a wolf.

The hunt did a good job of establishing I never wanted to go without my wolf ever again.

“Peter, Peter, Peter! Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I called out in my best sing-song voice.

“No!” my brother howled from somewhere deep in the ridiculous room the Hunters had converted into their personal playground.

The observers, who were on a catwalk around the entire course, cackled their delight. I unclipped Calden’s leash, crouched, and rewarded him with ear scratches. “Lick my brother into submission without getting shot with his paintball gun.”

Calden shook his head, earning more laughter from the watching Hunters.

“Come on. I don’t want you to bite him. Jab him with your nose repeatedly. That would count. And gentle nips, I suppose, are acceptable. It’s not like I’m asking you to kiss him, and I’m sure he doesn’t taste that bad.”

The baleful look Calden shot me implied he believed my brother did taste that bad. I also got the impression he viewed licking as uncomfortably close to kissing.

Interesting.

I leaned over and whispered into his ear, “If you lick my brother into submission, I’m sure you would be given an opportunity to retaliate against the evil tyrant queen putting you through this in similar fashions.”

That decided the wolf. Calden bolted off at a brisk enough pace I pitied my brother. One day, after the memory of wolf breath faded, my brother might forgive me. After the weekend, which had been spent pleasantly hinting at the various nice things we could be doing after the first date night, I held some general hope the wolf would be keen on exacting his revenge upon me for making him slobber on my brother.

With Calden on the prowl, my brother incapable of winning at any sport to save his life, and an audience of easily amused Hunters, I went the leisurely route, considering if I could pluck out a few extra points from the observers.

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