Page 14 of The Huntress and the Blood Moon (The Huntress #1)
W ithout the weight of the firestarter, Carmen moves much quicker through the building, keeping her cover in the shadows by hugging as close to the wall as she can.
She knows there are others somewhere in the building but the corridor she stalks down remains quiet.
She worries most of the werewolves have already made it out of the den and are currently inflicting terror in the heart of Renbury, and can only imagine the catastrophic loss that over a dozen wolves—set free by the rise of the blood moon—would manage against the sleepy little town. It makes Carmen’s heart ache.
She follows the path she spent hours memorizing to the heart of the building, making a few calculated turns down dark and dingy hallways, until the biggest room in the building comes into view just ahead.
The closer she gets to it the more she can hear movement and a low thrumming of voices, of quiet conversations, coming from inside, realizing the pack must be gathered together.
Both sets of double doors to the room are closed, and there’s a small sign on the wall just outside one of them labeled CAFETERIA .
The door itself contains a small window, less than a foot wide and a couple feet tall, spilling light out into the otherwise dark hallway.
It’s a perfect opportunity for Carmen to peek inside and see what’s happening.
She ducks below the height of the window and slowly pushes herself up until her eyes reach just above the bottom edge.
Squinting against the bright fluorescent lights, she finds the room full of nearly twenty werewolves in their human forms seated in four rows of chairs, all facing a male who stands at the front of the room.
There are three werewolves in wolf form who flank the male like guard dogs—he’s clearly in a position of power here.
Carmen eyes the male closely. He’s tall and slender, not carrying nearly as much bulk as most of the others in the room with him. But even from here she can see his eyes are void of any warmth. They’re a pitch into nothingness. Unfeeling and probably ruthless when needed.
She knows that for a werewolf to get into any sort of position of power, he or she has to literally spill blood and fight for it, has to take down whoever holds the seat in a display of brutal dominance.
If this male is the Alpha of the pack, it means he’s proven himself deadlier than anyone else in the room.
“In just a few moments,” he says with a voice that easily booms around the space, “we will all set out upon the lands beneath the blood moon, the Mother moon, as our truest selves. She will empower us with great strength and amplify our instinctual purpose to ensure our ability to take what’s ours, to overpower anyone who might foolishly stand in our way.
“Tonight, we let our bloodlust take hold.
We let our dominance and aggression take control of our bodies, and we trust the wolf in our hearts to lead us to our higher purpose: to recruit.
We must seek those who yearn for power such as ours, who would welcome this life with open arms, to stand alongside us as we prepare for the Great War.
“We need enforcers, lieutenants, scouts, and healers. We need more dedicated brothers and sisters who will support this pack and all packs who serve our Great Alpha as we enter into what will no doubt be the bloodiest battles any of us have yet seen.”
He pauses, smirking, his eyes trailing over every single person who sits in front of him. The hairs on the back of Carmen’s neck stand, like her body recognizes the unnatural threat before her.
“But before you all go,” he says, “it appears we have a surprise guest to welcome first.”
Carmen stops breathing as the male smiles wide and turns to look right at her through the window.
“Come,” the male says, beckoning Carmen in with a wave of his arm. “Please, join us.”
Carmen falters backward, her heart jumping into her throat.
His smile widens. He turns to face her more fully through the limited view of the window, arching his neck as if to keep an eye on her retreating form.
She looks him up and down, searching for any weapons that he may be carrying—but she doesn’t see anything obvious lumped beneath his tailored pants or slim-fitting button-down shirt.
“We won’t bite,” he calls out to her. The room skitters into a swell of chuckles and low murmurs.
She considers her options. She could run—she still has a backpack full of makeshift bombs that would help deter the pack of wolves from getting to her quickly.
But she didn’t bring the firestarter, and likely wouldn’t be able to get back to this place to start a fire in the heart of the building as planned.
She could stay and fight, but there are more than twenty werewolves in that room. The fight wouldn’t last long.
She thinks about the girl anchored to the wall, bloodied and bruised on a piss-stained floor. She thinks of Lacie, what she would have done.
And then she’s straightening her back, pasting her own ruthless hatred on her face. She will not run—she will not back down from this fight.
Reaching for the metal handle, she pulls open the heavy door. The smell of dog and old musk permeate the space, and she makes a show of scrunching her nose in disgust as every eye lands on her.
The male at the helm claps his hands together. “Welcome! I have to say, you have guts to walk in here,” he says with delight. “I’m impressed.”
Carmen stays silent, letting the door fall shut behind her. She makes no move to enter further into the room, hoping to keep her escape at her back for as long as she can.
“Tell me, what is your name?” he asks.
But Carmen refuses to answer. Instead, she forces her concentration on keeping her breathing even and controlled—she refuses to show these monsters any fear.
“I suppose I’ll just have to call you ‘love’ then.” The male gives Carmen a magnanimous bow, a small smirk playing on his lips. “My name is Renfus. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, love.”
“Fuck you,” Carmen spits. She scans the room, the faces of all the seated wolves.
The one who kicked the girl sits in the second row.
She scans the rest, but none of the others look familiar.
“Where are they?” she demands. “The one with black fur, and the red-haired male with a copper hue—where are they?”
Renfus tilts his head. “You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”
“They came to send a message,” Carmen says through gritted teeth. “A message to Warren, two years ago. They killed his daughter right in front of me.”
“Ah, yes.” The male nods, recognition sparking in his eyes. “I heard about that. Whispers about a hefty bounty for a traitor’s daughter. Quite a payout, if what I’m told is true—though you can never really trust wolves, can you, love?”
Carmen feels like she might be sick. “Where are they?” she asks again.
He frowns. “You won’t find them here,” he says, looking a bit confused. “They’re part of the Shadow Pack—quite high up the proverbial food chain. Their Alpha reigns over the whole of the west, and those in the Shadow Pack are his most subservient soldiers.”
Carmen’s heart sinks. This isn’t even the right pack? How could that be? “I . . . I followed you here from Missouri. From Oklahoma before that?—”
“We were in Missouri,” Renfus confirms. “But never Oklahoma. Missouri is as far west as we allow ourselves—territories and all that. Wouldn’t want to piss off old Ramses. He can be quite dramatic.”
“Ramses?”
“The Alpha of the west,” he says. “There are hundreds of packs stalking around this country, love, but the hierarchy leads up to two rivaling Alphas: Ramses in the east, and Andreas in the east. My pack,” he waves his hand out toward the silent group of wolves, “serves Andreas. Pity about your friend, though. We had nothing to do with it.”
“What about Elijah, and all the other innocent people who have been slaughtered?” Carmen glares at him. “You’ve been leaving a deadly trail for months.”
Renfus nods. “We’ve been working hard to fill our ranks. Unfortunately, some of us still struggle with self-control—but we’re working on it.” He smiles, and it makes Carmen want to vomit.
“What’s to come?” she dares to ask.
The delight on Renfus’s face dissipates, his eyes growing cold and more distant. “Why are you here, love? Come to seek vengeance for your little human friend?”
“Something like that,” Carmen grits out.
His eyes flick to the shoulder straps of the bag hanging down her back, as if only now realizing she carries it. “Bring some toys to play with, did you?”
Carmen knows damn well she only has minutes to make a move, and she’s still not entirely sure what move to make. She needs to think fast, needs to get out of this room and back to the girl. It’s certainly a change of plans to suddenly prioritize her own survival, if only to fight for hers .
She grins at Renfus but doesn’t say a word, hoping her silence stalls him.
He sighs, no longer entertained. Her heartbeat quickens as he turns his attention to the guards behind him, nudging his chin toward them in silent command. Like dogs set loose from a leash, the three of them stalk toward her.
They only make it a few steps before Carmen’s pulling a gleaming silver blade from the holster at her lower back, flinging it through the air.
Right at the Alpha’s heart.