Moon Sworn

resources and no one to call on. Not even my wolf.

In the distance, crickets droned. Or maybe they were locusts, because they were certainly making a whole lot more noise.

And they were on the move, getting closer, getting louder.

Too loud, in fact, to be either crickets or locusts. I stopped and frowned up at the sky. Saw the lights—lights that were moving, circling. A plane.

“Hey!” I ran forward, waving my arms frantically. “Hey, I’m here.”

It was night, the landscape was vast, and the chances of their seeing me were next to none, but that didn’t stop me from screaming like a maniac or trying to catch their attention.

Light shot out from the plane, spearing the hill above me. I ran toward it, saw it dart sideways, and dove frantically for that patch of bright salvation. I hit the turf hard, rolled to my knees, and looked up, squinting against the harshness of the light.

“Help!” I screamed again. “I need help!”

For a moment there was no response, then the light flicked off and the plane banked away.

“No!” The word was wrenched from my throat. I punched the ground in frustration, my vision suddenly blurred with tears. Damn it, they couldn’t leave. They couldn’t …

They weren’t.

The plane was descending, not leaving. I scrambled to my feet and ran down the hill toward it.

The plane taxied to a halt and the small rear door opened. A red-haired man scrambled out and ran toward me. That fleeting image of the boy who’d chased me rose again, and something inside me leapt for joy. But as my gaze fell on his face, my steps slowed. That face wasn’t the face I remembered. Wasn’t the face I was expecting.

For a start, it was a whole lot younger.

He didn’t seem to notice my sudden hesitation, just reached me and swept me into a hug that was fierce and strong.

“Jesus, Hanna,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I thought you were dead.”

Hanna. I rolled the name around internally, but for some reason, it didn’t sit right. “Obviously, I’m not.”

He laughed—a rich warm sound—and stepped back, holding me at arm’s length. His bright gray eyes—so familiar, so alien—searched mine. “You look like shit.”

“Not surprising, given that’s how I feel.” I stepped back, away from his touch. “Who the hell are you?”

Surprise rippled across his features. “What do you mean, who the hell am I? Who do you think I am?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be asking the question.” I crossed my arms and stared at him. He was a little taller than me, and broader in the shoulders. His face was rough-hewn but oddly handsome, and his scent said he was a wolf. From the red pack, if his longish hair was anything to go by.

Part of me felt like I should have known him, but the other part, the instinctive part, said he was a stranger.

“Hanna, you know who I am.” He reached for my hand, but I avoided his touch. Surprise ran through his eyes. Surprise and concern. “You really don’t, do you?”

I didn’t bother answering. Just waited.

“For fuck’s sake, what’s happened to you?” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “I’m Evin. Your brother.”

My brother.

No, I thought, staring at him. He wasn’t my brother. Not the brother I wanted, not the brother I was expecting.

God, this was all so damn confusing.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Frustration and hurt rippled through his expression. If he was acting, then he was damn good.

Why would I think he was acting?

I didn’t know. I just didn’t know.

It was becoming somewhat of a theme for me.

“I can’t prove it here, obviously. I didn’t bother collecting our life history when I came looking for you.” But he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open to show me his license. His name was indeed Evin. Evin London. He flipped it closed before I could catch the address, and said, “Happy?”

No, I thought. But simply said, “So, you knew I was out here?”

It came out almost as an accusation, and he raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know for certain. But when we found your car—”

“My car?” I couldn’t remember a car. No surprise there, either.

“Yeah. By the look of it, you’d hit a kangaroo hard enough to roll the car. It’s a total bloody mess. I had to hire another one.”

But I didn’t hit a roo, I’d hit a truck. Or rather, it had hit me.

Or was that just more mixed memories?

“What the hell did you do with your clothes? They weren’t in the car,” he said.

I shrugged, not knowing and not caring. “Where did you find my car?”

“About an hour out of Dunedan. The local cops have already hauled it back into town.”

Which was not helpful, given I had no idea what or where Dunedan was. “And where are we now?”

“About a hundred miles southeast of that point.”

Which was a hell of a long way to walk in the time I’d apparently been missing. “Then how did I get here?”

His gaze ran down my battered body. “Looking at the mess your feet are in, the answer is pretty obvious. And you’ve got a nice sunburn going.”

He peeled off his shirt and handed it to me. His body was well toned, but it wasn’t the body of someone who trained regularly. For some reason, that struck me as odd. I put on his shirt on and did up the buttons. It was long enough to cover my butt, which was probably a good thing if I was going back to civilization. Humans tended to get antsy about nakedness.

“Now, let’s get you to—”

“No hospital,” I interrupted. “I hate hospitals.”

His eyebrows raised even further. “Dunedan hasn’t got a hospital. Can’t you remember anything?”

“No. Not who you are, not who I am, not where I am.” I paused. “Why can’t I shift shape?”

He frowned. “I have no idea. You could before the accident.”

I had a sudden vision of a truck grille and a black car that rolled over and over and over, until it resembled nothing more than mashed metal. Felt the panic and fear rising, until it closed my throat and I was all but gasping for air. But it wasn’t a truck I’d hit. It had been a roo. It had been flesh, not metal, that had caused this damage.

But not the damage to the other car, the black car. God, what had happened …?

Again the thought faded, but the terror remained, thick and agonizing.

“Hanna, snap out of it.” The voice was sharp, filled with concern, briefly sounding so warm and familiar that tears stung my eyes.

I wanted, so wanted, whoever that voice reminded me of, but for all I knew, that person was standing right beside me, grabbing my arm and desperately trying to comfort me. Maybe it was just my memories that were faulty, that were wanting something or someone who might not even be real.

No, no, no, that inner voice whispered. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.

I had to trust that instinct. I certainly couldn’t trust anything or anyone else right now. Maybe not even that man who said he was my brother.

But until I knew more about me—and more about what was going on—I just had to play along. It was either that or return to the emptiness and the heat of the red sands, and that path could lead only to death.

“I’m okay,” I said, taking several deep breaths in an attempt to calm the turmoil still raging inside. “Really,