Lunar Mates 8:
Hunter’s Moon
By
Loribelle Hunt
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Hunter’s Moon
Copyright© 2009 Loribelle Hunt
ISBN: 978-1-60088-469-6
Cover Artist: Sable Grey
Editor: Devin Govaere
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
Cobblestone Press, LLC
www.cobblestone-press.com
Dedication
To all the fans of werewolves who have made this series such a success. Thank you!
Chapter One
Anthony left his clothes in a pile in the SUV’s backseat and shifted into his wolf form as he walked towards the waiting woman. He smiled a wolfy grin at Gia’s shocked expression. Few werewolves could shift while moving, but he was far from ordinary. To his annoyance, she quickly covered her reaction with chilly disdain, spun on her heel, and strode away.
He sat on his haunches to admire her. Her steps were soft, but measured and efficient, as she stalked forward to the tree line. Her ass swung in provocation he knew she was unaware of and she sure as hell wouldn’t like his appreciation of it. In his current form, he could admire it without giving himself away.
The moon was almost full, easily penetrating the gloom so when she turned to see if he was following, her gray eyes glowed silver. He moved forward and she fell into step at his right, an arm’s length away. They moved in step, as one, as if she’d always been at his side. As if she’d hunted with him for years instead of just months.
He made himself focus on the assignment. They were in a forest on the Georgia side on the Savannah River. Hunting a rogue cat. It was impossible to tell what breed exactly from the markings left on the victims’ bodies but it was definitely a shifter. Big cats didn’t stalk the city streets of Atlanta. And as the leader of the Hunters, the werewolves charged with hunting down and executing rogues, he didn’t normally hunt cats. He would have scowled if he were in human form.
It was a distraction he couldn’t afford. He never would have made such a stupid misstep otherwise and Gia turned to glare at him as the twig cracked loudly under his foot, announcing their presence in the silent night. He was reaching for the power in him to switch forms when he saw the shadow, when he saw it move. With a forceful leap and lunge, he took the naked man to the ground and clamped his jaws around his throat in an animal demand for submission.
He sensed more than saw Gia step up to his side, weapon drawn and pointed at the stranger. He snarled as the man under him tried to turn his head to see her. His throat moved under Anthony’s tongue and teeth and he released his grip a bit, just enough so the man could gasp out a question.
“Can you call him off?” he asked Gia.
Anthony growled low in his chest. This cat wasn’t free to speak to his woman. His claws dug a little deeper into the man’s chest, puncturing the skin so tiny droplets of blood appeared. But only just enough to pierce his skin. Just enough to let him know Anthony meant business.
“What are you waiting for?” Gia demanded in a whisper.
Good question. Why was he waiting? Anthony had seen the last victim just minutes after his murder. The answer came immediately in the stink of panic on the man’s skin. He was a cat, all right, but the wrong cat.
Anthony let go of the man’s throat and backed away, using his body to force Gia behind him before he risked shifting. Just because he wasn’t the killer they were looking for didn’t mean he wasn’t a killer.
He focused his will, forcing his body to change back into a man’s. Bones lengthened, popped. Muscles stretched and changed shapes. In mere seconds he stood tall and waited while the cat-man stood too, holding Gia back with one arm when she tried to step around him. She gave an exasperated huff and dug her fingernails into his forearm in protest, not realizing his wolf side found the display of irritation amusing. Pleasing.
“I’m Carlos.” The cat was careful to keep his distance and to keep his bearing neutral, but Anthony didn’t miss the power in the shorter man’s leanly muscled body. Like a real cat, he was built for speed and agility and Anthony had been around long enough to know not to underestimate him. “I’m not the one you’re looking for.”
Gia’s grip on him relaxed, stroked, and he let his guard down enough for her to slip under his arm. Her pistol was still in her other hand, but pointed at the ground, as if she was at ease. Anthony knew better, could feel her tension, and knew she’d react quickly, no hesitation, if necessary. He didn’t want it to be necessary. Didn’t want her anywhere near this life at all, but he didn’t have much choice in the matter.
“Well?” she asked softly, asking him to confirm the cat’s assertion.
“No,” he responded. She shivered. Now that the excitement was over, he became aware of the cold. “It’s not him.”
Carlos let out a relieved breath. Cat must have realized he was safe for the moment. Gia tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, a gesture that never failed to bring Anthony’s body screaming to full life. He fought the reaction, willing his cock to behave. There were a lot of things he wanted to do to her, none of which she’d let him try yet, but trying to coax her into accepting him in the cold, in the middle of the woods, in front of a stranger was not high on his list. His struggle for control was easily
