Moon Crossed (Werewolf Hunter Series): Season 1 (Episodes 1-6) (Crescent Hunter) (72 page)

“I know you will,
but there's something about surrendering to this that feels wrong.”
I don't turn around. “But I'll do it...surrender.”

“It is wrong, but
what are the options?” Zane's mood has completely deflated.

An internal flame
ignites my fire, but I let it only take on a slow burn. “There's
only one.”

Four A.M. Christmas day

With
a solid plan in place, I'm left with a quandary: do I take the risk
and meet Cole to watch the sunrise? That's the only problem I don't
have a definitive answer to.

Many other questions
have been answered as I worked tirelessly through the night,
preparing for my journey. I'm all packed and ready.

“Claire?”
Zane calls quietly from my office.

“Zane?” I
question and look toward the door. “Are you okay?”

“I wanted to
check on you.” He stands on the opposite side of the table.

“I'm fine.” I shake my head, stuffing jerky and protein
bars into my pack.

“I'm pissed, and
I wanted to let you know that I'm here for you no matter what you
decide to do,” he concedes.

“So far as I know
I have one choice, which is to go to the council.” I finish
putting away the glassware that was drying on the rack.

“You have more
options than that.” The pleading tone in his voice is
heartbreaking.

“No, I don't. We
have to disengage in this war or we're no better than Pike.” I
place the rest of the cure I synthesized into the leather pouch and
sling it over my shoulder.

“You could run.”
His words are barely audible.

I stop all motion.

“Claire, you're
on the verge of a cure –”

I turn and look him in
the eye. “I have the cure. I just have to test it.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” I
tie my boot laces, then motion to the stack on the desk: four USB
drives, a notebook, four large envelopes, and five small envelopes
stacked on a small box. “If anything happens to me, everything
you need is right there.”

“Claire?”
he questions, looking at my desk.

Then I hand him a sheet
of paper. “Here are the instructions. Everything is marked.”
I power down my computer. “Keep it safe.”

“What are you
doing?” he asks cautiously.

“The only thing I
can.” I throw my pack over my shoulder. “Ending this.”

Zane eyes the pack.
“You're going on the hunt.” He looks down. “You're
not coming back.”

I look him hard in the
eye.

“No way am I
letting you go alone,” he insists.

“I have to do
this alone. I need you to get this information into the right hands.”
He knows I'm right and I don't want to have to disable him.

“Claire,
please...”

“You should go up
to your room,” My tone is cold as I take final inventory of
what I'll need to have in order to survive in the woods for a while.
I swing my black cloak around my shoulders. “Plausible
deniability.”

“I'm getting
Hayden. You can't do this.” He starts for the stairs.

“I'm sorry,
Zane.” With the wave of my hands, he's frozen in place.

His eyes widen as I
stand in front of him, putting my hands tenderly on his cheeks. “I
need you to get this information out there
and
I need you to
be safe.” A soft smile rises to my lips. “I can never
thank you enough for everything you've done. You were my only true
friend when everyone else left.” My smile widens through damp
eyes.

He inhales. “Claire,
please let me come with you.”

“I love you,
Zane. I
will
see you again.” I press a kiss onto his
forehead and start up the stairs quietly.

“I love you too,
Claire.”

The moment I reach the
tree line, Cole's presence runs through me like a hot knife. Comfort,
excitement, and anger flow, setting my insides on fire. I break into
a full run, matching pace with Cole's. I'm fully laden with at least
forty pounds of gear and supplies and I'm weakened from the two pints
of blood I took to leave at the lab.

As I dart through the
trees, the wind pushes my hood off and flows through my braid. Cole's
heavy footfalls ring in my ears as we run toward the one place we
were allowed to love each other. It escapes me how after all of the
lies and betrayal I can't stop loving him. Perhaps I'm only looking
for validation of my own ability to love.

We reach the clearing
and I sit, laying my sword next to me after taking off my pack. Cole
shifts into human form and puts on the jeans he must have left here
earlier. The sky is still a deep blue; there's time before the
sunrise.

“Hello, Clarice,”
he says in a creepy tone.

“Don't call me
that.” My father would call me Clarice when I was in trouble.
Cole doesn't get to.

Cole sits next to me.
“How are things?”

“Dandy.” I
spit it out like venom. The conflict ruling my emotions is almost too
much to take. I want to throw my arms around him in surrender and
disappear into him. I also want him to hurt like I have, like I do.
But he doesn't, he won't.

Silence falls upon us
like a heavy blanket as we stare blankly at the winter sky. “That's
a big pack for a morning run.”

My only response is a
quick glance in his direction. He inhales, his discomfort palpable.
My mind races, wishing I didn't feel him like this. Seeing me, being
near me, smelling me—I can tell he just wants to wrap his arms
around me, and I want that too.

“What are you
planning?” He breaks another long silence.

“I don't think
it's wise to share that information with the enemy,” I snipe.

He turns toward me.
“Claire, I'm not your enemy.”

“You are. If you
aren't with me, you're against me. You may not be in a league with
your father, but you aren't fighting for me.” I hope he gets
the double meaning and feels the pain resonating in my voice.

“You don't
understand. I can't go against my own kind.” He shakes his
head.

“I'm not against
'your kind.'” I shake my head. “I'm trying to find a
cure, and until then I will do what the elder shamans made me for,
which is keeping everyone safe from the disease. Keeping our whole
culture hidden from the rest of the world.”

There's another long
beat of silence. Cole moves around to sit in front of me, taking my
hands in his. I'm reticent but I can't resist his touch. “You
have to know that I've always been your friend, and I never stopped
caring.”

“Cole, it feels
like you never started.” I look down at the ground.

“I've missed you,
thought of you...” he quietly whispers.

“Do you even know
when you're lying anymore or is it just like blinking for you?”
I try to pull my hands away from his.

He lowers his eyes.
“Somewhere in there you know that I love you.”

Jerking my hands away,
I stand, looking down at him, doubt quieting my voice. “You
love me?”

He stands to meet me.
“Our love, what we feel. It couldn't be like this if it were
one-way.” He can't look me in the eye. “Claire, I love
you so much that it hurts me to be away from you. It hurts more that
we're not meant to be. We need to be with our own kind.”

I look up at him
squarely in the eye. “That's the irony, Cole. I
am
your
kind.”

“Wolves and
hunters. You're meant to be with a hunter; I'm meant to be with a
wolf.” He's not getting what I'm saying, and why would he?

I huff an ironic laugh.
“Pike has been lying to you your whole life.”

“What do you
mean?” He tightens the grip on my hands as though he knows I'm
about to pull them away.

“Cole, you're a
hybrid.” My smile is meant to cut him.

His face loses all
expression and he drops my hands. “That can't be.”

“It can. That's
why you have powers that most wolf-borne don't. Just like Trevor.
Just like Locke.” I reach into my pack and pull out the proof.

He releases my hands,
pacing the clearing, “How can I be a hybrid? I knew my mother.
She was a wolf.” He runs his fingers through his golden hair.

“Here, look.”
I take out the information that shows the genetic markers. “These
are the boys: Brogan, Rabbit, and Tor.”

He studies them. “Okay,
I really don't know what I'm looking at.”

“Bear with me.”
I point again to the markers. “Just look at these. You see how
they are identical?” He nods. “These are the wolf-borne
markers.”

“Okay.”
There's some understanding in his expression.

“Here's
Trevor's.” I compare it to the boys.

“It's different,”
he concedes.

“Right. Here's
yours.” I slide the paper up, lining the markers up between
Trevor’s and Rabbit's results.

“It's the same as
Trevor's.” His eyes widen a little.

“Now here's
mine.” The paper sliding against the other sheets is loud as it
goes into place between Trevor’s and Cole's results.

He sucks in a sharp
breath and starts shaking his head. “This can't be. I'm a
wolf.” He staggers backward and narrows his gaze on me. “How
do I know this is mine? That this isn't a trick?”

I look him hard in the
eye and with malice in my tone say, “Because
I've
never
lied to
you
.”

He puts both hands on
his head; his breathing shallows. He can't process what I'm saying to
him. “Claire, I don't understand. How...”

“Pike lied to
you.” I tilt my chin upward, knowing that fact alone makes me
better than Pike. “You never knew
your real mother.” My head tilts in the small victory that I do
know his mother.

“Of course not.
She was killed by your father when I was six years old.” He
looks at me as though I killed her.

“No, my father
didn't kill your mother.” I shake my head. “Your mother
is still alive.”

He stills all motion.
“That can't be.”

“I've met her.
She's really quite amazing and loves you with her whole being.”
I take the envelope I made for Cole, handing it to him. “Here,
you can look this over. It took me a few visits with her and your
Aunt Vivian, but I have several photos of you and her together when
you were small.” I point to the part of the packet that has the
photos.

Cole looks them over,
and understanding takes over his demeanor. “I remember her.”

He's pacing and shaking
and I see that he's going to shift. In this moment, I want to calm
him, soothe him, make everything okay. I wish I could take back the
pain he’s feeling now or make it better. I go to him, reaching
up and putting my hands on his bare chest. “Cole.” Once
his attention is on me and our eyes are locked, I say, “We're
the same.”

He stares blankly past
me, his blue eyes shining with panic and confusion. “No,
this...” He can't form words. I have to bring him back to me.

“Cole.” I
put my hands on his cheeks. “Cole.” I speak softly to
bring him into my gaze. When our eyes meet, I smile through my tears.
“We are the same.” My voice is loving and resolute.

The moisture in his
eyes spills over and he repeats in a haunted voice, “We're the
same.”

I nod, still holding
his face. At this moment, there's no longer a need for words. His
gaze changes from confused and hurt to loving.

He tangles his hands
behind my head and pulls me to him, kissing me with his entire being.
Every emotion, every moment of pain and joy that we have felt pours
from us into one another. Tears stream down our cheeks as we let go
of the pain and hold on to each other.

The forest bows down in
silent homage to our love.

Cole tenderly puts his
hands on my cheeks while I lightly run my fingertips down his neck
and chest. His huge arms circle around me, pressing me against his
warm body that melts everything that I am.

My knees become week
and I sink to the ground. He follows my motions, kissing my neck, and
I am frenzied to feel more of him. My hands tangle in his hair to
pull him closer. Our souls fuse in a beautiful dance of surrender in
concert with our movements as we explore one another. I unbuckle my
bodice and throw my gear to the side; the metal daggers make a
clanking noise when they hit the ground. I'm drowning in him, gasping
for air that I don't want to breathe unless he's in it. Never have I
loved surrender as I do in this moment, with his skin on mine and our
bodies moving in sympathy with one another.