Hunter Moon: A Grazi Kelly Novel #2 (9 page)

“Enough of this.” My uncle’s voice resounded
in the filled room. He clearly outranked her and I could feel the
force behind his voice when he told us all to stop.

Cara had looked down immediately. I felt the
impact of his power. But it sort of rolled off of me like soft
rain. I
felt
it, but it didn’t compel me.

“I called you all here because there are
important matters to discuss. Sascha you first, what have you found
about the attacker the other day.”

“I made move to contact local pack leader. He
said there are not usually Vampires in the area, certainly not
Hunters. But he will look into it.” Sascha spoke with a thicker
accent than his brother. He was also the more intimidating of the
two. Powerfully built, he wore a close cropped beard and never
seemed to smile. I could understand why my uncle would send him on
a fact finding mission. I doubt anyone would lie to him. Not that
they could, Werewolf nose and all.

“Good. You made successful contact,
excellent. Okay, next-”

“Why is that so surprising? Wouldn’t they
want to help us?” I was a natural
interruptor
. It was sort
of like my second calling. I had to ignore the way everyone cringed
when I opened my mouth.

“Not necessarily, Grazi. The American packs
are not associated with the Hounds. They have no loyalty or
allegiance to us at all.”

“What are they like rogues or something?”

“Not at all, they have their own
infrastructure-”

“Oh, this is just lovely, ain’t it? Are we
all going to get a history lesson now? It’s not why I’m here Sean.”
Cara’s voice grated against me. Her insult wounded. But I was used
to comments like that from my cousin and I showed nothing. Besides,
there was no such thing as a bad question. I learned that in
grammar school. Asking was better than sitting in ignorance any
day.

“She doesn’t have the same background
knowledge we do, Cara that’s all.” Ronan spoke up for me, but he
was careful not to make eye contact.

Not weakness, respect. He knows his place.
It is a good thing for a soldier, little one. His concern is for
you alone.
My Wolf answered my questions before I even knew I
had them.

“Oh, whatever, Ronan! The little princess can
speak for herself, can’t she?” Cara picked up a strand of my hair
and pulled. I did not wince.

Ronan, however, jumped up, ready to defend
me.
An act of aggression
. I didn’t see this panning out for
him. I reached out and stayed his hand. His muscles were bunched
under the sleeve of his flannel shirt. He looked at my hand and
leaned back against the wall. But he didn’t let my hand go right
away. Surprisingly, I didn’t mind.

“Yes, Cara, I can speak for myself. I didn’t
know what I was until a few weeks ago and I still don’t have all
the answers. I don’t know if I ever will. You’ve had a lifetime to
learn what you are and your education and physical prowess are
proof of that. I just don’t see why any of that would make you hate
me so much.” I held my right hand up, no tricks no fast moves. Just
honesty as only a Werewolf can appreciate.

This time it was Cara who squirmed under my
stare. I could smell fear, anger and confusion all emanating from
her. She looked back and forth. I guess she was searching for some
show of support, but all were still.

“Grazi is right, Cara. You’ve no cause to
hate my niece. What was done happened long ago and she’s not
responsible. Rolf left me in charge. So unless you challenge me, I
am ordering you to stand down now. Whatever this is you’re feeling
about Grazi, let it go. You are here as her fighting tutor. If you
can’t handle that I’ll relieve you of your position.”

“No sir. I- I’m sorry. I’ll act in a
professional manner from now on.” The sincerity of her words struck
me. She seemed truly ashamed of her behavior. I doubted she wanted
to tarnish her reputation just to spite me. Still I didn’t see us
becoming lifelong friends or anything.

“Before we continue I’d like to give Grazi a
little background information.” A few grunts of assent around the
room then Uncle Sean sat down on the leather loveseat. That’s when
all the fun really started.

“First let’s go over some basics about
Vampires. The one that attacked you was a
hunter
. A creature
that has been Vampire far too long. You see they weaken with age,
their humanity sheds, and over time, hundreds of years mind you
they become fragile. They are threatened by other younger and more
powerful Vampires and they lose their place in their coven. Some
choose to seek protection. Usually it is provided by Witches who
then use them as trackers and hunters. With their craving for blood
they can search out one among millions with just a hint of that
person’s blood. The mystery here is how he found you. He must have
gotten some of your blood from somewhere. I just can’t imagine how,
but I’ll look into it. Next, let’s talk about the different kinds
of Vampires…”

I sat still and concentrated on my uncle’s
words. This was a lecture I never thought I’d hear.
Beware for
here be monsters.

Walking home that night was like waking after
a
really
real dream. You know the kind when you spring up in
bed and are mad at someone for something they didn’t do or afraid
of something that never happened?
Like that
. Only these
things were real and now they were hunting
me
. Sascha walked
me to the back door of my house. Ronan had stayed behind. I missed
him.

“Cara is good Wolf. She misses her
brother.”

“Who’s her brother?”

“Her brother died in accident. Motorcycle.
The investigation is no good.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s Werewolf. We ride motorcycle very good.
They say it is an accident, she says no. She misses him.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“He was on a mission for the Hounds. Rolf
orders missions. You are his granddaughter. She should not take it
out on you though,
printzyessa
. Old wounds sometimes take
longer to heal.”

“Why does everyone call me that?”

“Because it is who
you
are. Me, I am
Sascha.” He looked at me as if this was the simplest explanation.
Completely obvious.
Uh huh, right.

“Goodnight, Sascha.” I smiled and closed the
door.

I took the steps two at a time. Everyone was
in bed already. I had been getting to bed later and later. It was
getting ridiculous, but I guess Werewolves don’t need much rest
because I felt great every morning.

I so should not have said that. No doubt I’d
be up all night. I got in bed and closed my eyes. As usual I said a
quick prayer.

Hey, it’s me again. I guess I’m addressing
this prayer to anyone listening. Why me? Oh Lord, why me? I’m not
sure I am right for this path You have chosen for me. Give me
strength, patience and wisdom to see it through. Help me find out
what happened to my parents. Please.

I fell asleep immediately after I finished
praying. I dreamt of a place with dark tunnels and dirt floors.
There was no light, but my Werewolf eyes adjusted. I smelled
dampness and mold. I listened for noises to lead me in any
direction. but it was quiet as a tomb. That’s when I came upon the
first body.

It was crouched on the floor hands up as if
trying to shield itself from something. It looked like a mummy. Its
skin was like leather, completely sucked dry. Like an empty husk.
No wonder I smelled nothing. There was no blood left. That’s when I
noticed the two puncture marks on the neck.

I gave a quick sniff, my muzzle scrunched up
in revulsion.
Definitely dead
. There was nothing I could do
but move on. I passed some more corpses. They were like the first
only these were bound and gagged. Some had torn limbs and others
were clutching each other. They were all frozen in their last
moments of life.

Horrific expressions remained on their sunken
in faces. Men and women, young and old. The beasts who did this did
not discriminate. It was as if every last drop of fluid had been
stolen from each body. Preserving them in their terror. I wished
there was something I could do, but they were long gone.

I sniffed and noticed a few things. These
were the remains of people the Vamps had fed on, but the feasting
had not been done in the tunnels. I’d smell it if blood was spilled
there. These poor people were simply thrown away. Where no one
would ever find them.

I could hardly breathe for the pain of their
families, the ones they left behind. They would never have closure.
Never know what happened to their loved ones. Bad enough to murder
innocent people, but to rob their families of knowing what
happened. It was too much.

I kept moving. I had to leave my pity behind
with them. Slowly and cautiously I continued on. The tunnels were
empty. Not a rat or bug in sight. Then I smelled it. Death, rot,
the distinct metallic tang of spilled blood.
Vampires.

The tunnels gave way to a basement. It was
cold and dark. I could hear someone or something walking on the
floor above me. I snarled in defense. The slow shuffling of that
someone’s footsteps abruptly stopped.

Crap! Me and my big mouth. The better to
eat you with I guess.
I waited behind the wooden stairs that
led to the above floor. The door opened. Whatever it was it heard
me and it was going to come down here.

I held my breath and crouched down low.
Waiting.
Would I have to fight? Would I survive?
My heart
was pounding as these thoughts raced through my mind. Another pair
of footsteps came into the room these louder and heavier. Their
gait uneven, as if the person they belonged to had a limp of
sorts.

“And just where are you going?” A woman’s
voice asked impatiently. She sounded hoarse. Like a chain cigarette
smoker and nasty too. Whoever she was speaking to, she did not
respect them. That was evident.

“Eeeeeee.” The Vampire screeched in answer. I
heard a shove and something banged against the door.

“Get back to your cage! And no more wandering
around, bloodsucker! I’ll have to lock you in if you keep this up
or maybe I should just throw you back where I found you. Ungrateful
brute!” The door banged shut and I listened for more clues as to
who or what that could have been. I breathed in the air. It was
definitely human, not a Vamp, female though her voice had been
hoarse and rough. She definitely smelled female. Also she smelled
like grape cough syrup.

That thick nasty purple stuff Aunt Theresa
was always shoveling down Julianna’s and Rebecca’s throats at the
first hint of a cold. It was a sickeningly sweet smell. Made me a
little queasy.

I listened, but could hear nothing else. I
climbed the steps out of the basement and nudged the door open with
my muzzle. I hesitated a moment. I was so big in my Wolf form, I
would most likely get noticed.
But this is only a dream,
Grazi
.

My hesitation made me ashamed.
What kind
of Wolf was I to get scared in my own dream? Come on girl, get a
grip.

I quickly passed through what look liked a
kitchen. It was dirty with old dishes and glasses strewn about.
Heaps of garbage littered the floor and the smell of rotting food
and waste was everywhere. It obscured anything relevant I might
uncover.

Packages of ultra-processed snacks filled the
counters as well as stacks of 100% high fructose corn syrup and
food dye juices. There were also stacks of drained blood bags, like
from a hospital, piled in one corner.

Dirty hypodermic needles were flung in an
open waste basket. It was overflowing. I took my steps more
cautiously.

A big black pot or cauldron,
oh yeah, it
was definitely a cauldron
, sat on the stove bubbling over. Its
smell made me want to throw up. Not that anyone would notice with
all the filth and garbage everywhere.

What was in there? I couldn’t tell from afar
so I got closer. I stopped and sniffed. There was nothing in there
I could identify.

I walked quietly as I could over the dirty
floor. I stopped and listened. There seemed to be noise coming from
the left, a television show I think. I heard a couple of “eee’s” so
I figured that was where the Vampires were. A heavy New York accent
echoed from the surround sound.
Seriously, Housewives, huh. I
guess they really like their reality TV. Go figure.

The woman who scolded the Vampire by the
stairs seemed to be nowhere in sight. I went down the right side
hallway away from the noise of the television. There was one
bedroom door. It was locked from the outside. I reached up with my
lupine head and gripped the doorknob in my mouth.

A few shakes of my head and the door opened.
The first thing that hit me was the absolute dark. There was no
lamp, TV, or light. Just a dirty window under a dirty drape or
shade. My Werewolf eyes adjusted quickly. Tied to a bed, sitting
up, was a young boy. Maybe ten or twelve, he was thin and unwashed.
He cowered against the wall.

“Don’t hurt me, please. I keep telling you. I
don’t know anything.” His eyes were squeezed shut, there were
puncture marks in his arms and legs. Clearly he was a prisoner and
he was being fed on.

I moved further inside of the room. My claws
made small clacking noises against the cold, uncarpeted floor.

“What, what are you?” I cocked my head to the
side at the question in his voice. He opened his eyes and stared at
me in surprise.

“Are, are you real?” I nudged his foot with
my nose and he pulled back. He was scared, but brave. Tentatively
he reached out with his small hand, his dirty fingernails and
frightened eyes tore at my heart. I wanted to help him. I let him
touch my head and neck. He seemed fascinated by my fur.