The Wild Moon by Riley Storm

Chapter Thirty-Two

The next morning, I was tired and more than a little cranky. The night had been a long one, spent tossing and turning and waking up in a cold sweat more times than I could remember. The moon’s pull was growing stronger, and so was my wolf.

Not even coffee could fix my mood. It was that bad. I stalked across the parking lot of our meeting place, which Aaron had told me to be at after our expedition to the warehouse. It was a long, squat, concrete affair, one of those commercial buildings that had gone up quickly in the late seventies, with a bunch of units next to one another.

Every five or so units, there was a break in the buildings to allow vehicles to access the rear. One tree was planted at the front of each unit, none of which looked to be in good shape. Unit Four was where I wanted to go. It had a pair of roll-up doors installed in the front, and faded lettering above them proclaimed that once upon a time, “Al’s Auto Care” had called the place home.

Judging by the weeds growing everywhere, I doubted Al had been there anytime recently. It was the perfect spot for a secret clubhouse. Exactly what a man would choose.

I ducked under the roll-up door that was halfway down, noting that it felt as dour inside as it looked outside, the gray skies and generally blah weather of the day matching the well-worn interior. Two lifts still stood in place, but otherwise, the inside was devoid of anything related to its former life.

Instead, a handful of people stood around a wheeled chalkboard, drinking coffee and doing nothing. They all looked up as I entered.

“Am I late?” I asked, frowning. The dash in my dad’s truck had said I was twenty minutes early.

“No,” Aaron said, appearing from the little office off to the left.

He wasn’t dressed in his traditional suit at all. It was still all black, one of his two preferred color schemes, but instead of the formal wear, he’d traded it in for something more practical. Black tactical boots, thick pants that wouldn’t rip or tear as we trucked through the wilderness, and a heavy black shirt. Strapped around his waist was a utility belt that I felt was filled with practical items, not what necessarily came with it. He wore it with experience, clearly used to the weight.

“You’ve changed,” I said dryly.

“You sound surprised.”

I shrugged. “I figured you would be the type to wear camo-everything. I find it hard to believe they were so out of stock you had to resort to this.”

Aaron stared at me, a mix of irritation and resignation. “I should have asked for more money.”

I snorted. “Are you going to introduce me? I know Jaxton there, but what about the rest of your merry band of misfits?”

“Hey,” one of the others said, a grin plastered on his face. “I resent that remark.”

“That would be Dave,” Aaron said. “He’s our tech guy.”

Dave was tall, though I didn’t think he could quite look Aaron in the eyes. He had the look of someone who had once been extremely fit, but now the muscle was covered in a layer of fat. Bald, with thin eyebrows and a lopsided grin, I immediately pegged him as the funny one of the group. Easygoing and able to poke fun, I felt we would get along best. He nodded, and I smiled.

“You know Jaxton, our quartermaster.”

“And not too shabby in a fight,” I said.

Jaxton dipped his head in acknowledgment.

“Alexi is our tracker.”

I focused on the next member of the team. Average height, blond hair–though not as brilliant as Aaron’s–pale blue eyes, and a wide, blocky face that spoke of Nordic lineage, or perhaps northern Slavic, based on the name. I wasn’t sure. He met my eyes, then looked away. That was all the greeting I was getting, apparently. A real charmer, that one.

“Pieter here is our chef,” Aaron continued, moving on. “And an expert driver.”

The smallest of the group, Pieter was a scrawny little thing even shorter than me with curly hair sticking out from under a green beret hat. I almost wrote him off as the least dangerous member of the group.

Until I saw his eyes. Tiny dots of brown, they focused on me with uncanny intensity. Something told me I shouldn’t look away, not at first. This man wasn’t entirely stable. I held the gaze. Take a good look, buddy. Trust me when I tell you, you don’t want to mess with me.

Eventually, Pieter nodded, apparently satisfied with what he’d seen. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but that was fine.

“And him?” I asked, nodding at the sixth and final member of the team. “Who’s he?”

The unnamed member had his back turned to me. He was leaning against the upright support of the lift.

“That’s Fred,” Aaron said dismissively.

Fred didn’t turn around.

“And what does Fred do?” I asked.

“Fred’s a labor grunt,” Aaron said as if that’s all that was necessary.

I looked at Aaron, then at Fred. He was taller than Aaron, broader in the shoulders, too. His hair was short, black, and very thick. He turned around, revealing a taut face and brown eyes that revealed absolutely nothing about him. An extra bump in his nose spoke of it being broken a time or two in the past, but otherwise, there was nothing remarkable about him at all.

Yet, he gave me the creeps.

“A grunt. Right,” I said, making it very clear I didn’t believe him.

Was that a bulge I spotted under Fred’s shoulder? It was tough to tell, the black of his clothes made it all blend even with my vision, but I was fairly positive. So, Fred was the gunman.

Why did we need a gunman?

“Why do we need this many people?” I asked. “Plenty of these jobs could be doubled up.”

Aaron shrugged. Clearly, I wasn’t winning that fight. Okay, fine. You win this round, pretty boy.

I waited for Aaron to explain what happened next, but he was looking at me. They were all looking at me.

“Well?” Aaron prompted when I raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a face full of what the fuck is going on? attitude.

“Well, what?” I asked. “Are we waiting?”

“Are you going to tell us what we’re doing? What the mission is?”

I stared at him. Was he stupid? Did he get hit in the head too hard by Byron yesterday?

“I already told you what we’re doing,” I said, obviously missing something here. “We’re going out to the mountains where you and my father went, northeast of Kellar. We’re going to explore the last area you guys worked together. Then we’re going to find the abandoned city hidden out there.”

Everyone was looking at me now. Most of them with mixed amounts of disbelief. I looked over the group, then back at Aaron.

“You didn’t tell them, did you?”

“I thought it would sound better coming from you,” he said blandly.

“You mean less crazy.”

He looked upward in thought, then nodded. “Yeah, less crazy.”

“You guys signed up for this without being told what we’re doing? Without even asking?”

The team shrugged in near unison. A sure sign of a group that’s worked together plenty of times.

“You all are fucking weird,” I muttered. “And crazy.”

“Don’t forget you’re part of the team now,” Aaron said. “So, include yourself on that list.”

“Oh, I’m at the top,” I said, shaking my head. “At the very damn top.”

I’m chasing a wild theory into the complete unknown, based on some vague hints and a gut instinct I got from reading my father’s book. I stole one of my race’s most important artifacts to do so. I’m trusting a man I’ve never met before, all while running from my Alpha and his son, the man I’m supposed to be mated to.

Yeah, definitely crazy.

“The thing is, I’m aware of my faults,” I added when nobody else spoke.

Alexi spoke up, his words heavy with an Eastern European accent but intelligible enough to tell me he’d been here for some time. “What information do you have?”

I sighed. “Not much. My father has been looking for this city for decades.”

“Yes. We have worked with him before. Never find city,” Alexi said. “Where is your father?”

“Missing,” I said. “I’m hoping that whatever is out there, whatever he wanted me to find, will help me locate him.”

“So, we are going in blind?” Alexi asked.

I nodded, confirming it. “Yes. Do you want out?”

He shook his head.

“Anyone else?” I asked, looking around.

Nobody spoke up. They were all in. Like I said, a bunch of crazies.

“Did you ever take this many out with my father?” I asked Aaron suddenly, wondering if he was bringing such a large group because I was there and didn’t really know what I was doing.

“Sometimes,” he admitted.

“Why? I don’t get it. How could you possibly need this many people out there?”

“These mountains are dangerous,” Fred said, looking at me with brown eyes that tracked my every movement with computer-like precision.

He didn’t elaborate, and after a minute of waiting for him to, I gave up.

“There’s no way Fred is your real name, right?” I asked. “Is it supposed to make you seem less threatening? Because it doesn’t work. Just so you know.”

Fred stared at me.

“Whatever,” I said, turning back to Aaron. “It’s just camping and exploring out there. What’s so dangerous? You keep saying this. I grew up in the country. It’s fine.”

“Growing up in a farm town is different than where we’re headed,” he said. “No cell reception. No other humans for hundreds of miles. It’s rough territory, and it’s very easy to get lost and killed out there. We go as a team. As much for our own protection as yours.”

“Okay,” I said, not fighting it. If Aaron wanted to bring his frat brothers with him, I wasn’t going to argue. “Then, let’s do this.”

Aaron nodded, and without a word, the others got up, filing out the back door. I followed. Waiting were two large, beefy-looking pickup trucks packed to the brim with supplies. The white one had a trailer attached to it, though it was empty.

Everyone but Aaron went to the white truck and climbed in. Aaron went to the slightly smaller black pickup, a new-looking Ford.

I hopped into the black pickup as well, taking the passenger seat.

“Are they that afraid of you?” I quipped as I got in and buckled up.

“I told them to let you ride alone with me,” Aaron said quietly, firing up the engine with the push of a button on the dash. “I figured you would be more comfortable that way.”

I frowned. That was uncharacteristically nice of him. Was he hoping for road head or something? It wasn’t going to happen, and he had to know that. So I waited for the catch, but Aaron was done speaking. We pulled out, leaving the rundown building and my dad’s little pickup behind.

Two days until the Wild Moon. Two days to find something my father hadn’t found in years of searching.

I was so screwed.