Contents
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Other Books
Luna Proxy #4 (Werewolf / Shifter Romance)
MAC FLYNN
Text copyright 2016 by Mac Flynn
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission in writing from the author.
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CHAPTER 1
I knew only pain and darkness.
One mixed with the other in a blending of horrors. I was chilled and hot, weak and tense, alone and yet not. My sole consistency in the muddied waters of my mind was the feel of a warm, firm chest against my side and strong arms under me.
The touches of darkness were interspersed by moments of lucidity. The world around me would return for brief moments, but they were bitter glances at life. My mouth would fill with a horrible taste and I would return to the darkness.
Eventually the heat and darkness faded, and I emerged from the darkness brought upon me by the witch. My eyes fluttered open and I was greeted by a clear sky full of bright, twinkling stars framed by pine trees. I lay on my right side atop my coat, and with a familiar red overcoat draped over me. In front of me was a warm, crackling fire.
"Thank goodness you're awake," a voice commented near me.
I turned my head to look above my head. Close beside me sat Vincent. The firelight cast shadows on the black spots under his eyes, and his face was gaunt. His pale skin glistened in the light. I couldn't help staring at the scars over his body.
He shifted beneath my gaze and wrapped his arms around himself. "How are you feeling?"
"What. . .what happened?" I croaked. My throat was parched.
"One second and I can get you some water," Vincent offered.
He turned away to our blanket on his right side and grabbed a small plastic bottle. "I found this on our way here. It should be okay because I cleaned it in a stream," he explained to me.
Vincent scooted closer and pulled me up so I leaned against his side. He unscrewed the top and held the bottle out to me.
"Do you need help?" he asked me.
I shook my head and raised my arm. My limb was heavy, but obedient, and I took the bottle from him. The cool, refreshing creek water quenched my thirst, but not my questions.
"What's happened? Where are we?" I asked him as I returned the bottle.
Vincent set the bottle back and sighed. "You've been asleep for three days with a high fever. I did the best I could to keep you warm and gave you some water."
"I guess that curse of hers wasn't all that great," I commented. I looked around the camp. We sat in an open space just off the path. Nothing looked familiar. "How far are we from where I fainted?" I wondered.
"About half a day's walk. I-" He hung his head and closed his eyes. "I thought we'd be safer here."
"And Glenna?"
Vincent averted my eyes and instead looked at the fire. He pursed his lips and shrank into himself. His hands grasped his upper arms and his fingers clenched the pale skin. He spoke in a low, firm whisper.
"She's dead."
I narrowed my eyes and scrutinized his face. "Dead how?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. All I know is that she's dead."
I frowned. "What do you mean you don't know?"
He shut his eyes and cringed. "I just don't know, okay?"
"No, it's not okay!" I argued.
I still leaned against Vincent's side, but I tried to raise myself onto my arms. My feeble limbs buckled beneath my weight and I fell forward onto the pine needle-laden dirt.
Vincent shifted onto his knees and grabbed my upper arms. "You shouldn't move too fast."
I tried to shove one of his hands away, but my weak slap only clapped against his hand. "Don't patronize me. I know what you are. I saw you change."
The color drained from his face. I felt his hands shake. "I. . .you saw me change into a werewolf?"
I furrowed my brow. Images of those final moments flashed through my mind, but they were all blurry. I turned my face away from his wide eyes. "I'm not sure, but I can't believe that the werewolf would be following us and always appear when you disappear."
"I see. . ." He released me and leaned back. I glanced up and saw that his gaze was cast down on the ground in front of me. "Then. . .then there's something I want you to have." He reached into the side of his waistband and pulled out my gun.
My eyes widened. I reached back and patted my empty holster. The effort nearly cost me my balance. My eyes narrowed at Vincent.
"It never falls out of there. Why'd you take it?" I questioned him.
"I was afraid you'd use it on me, but after what you said I want you to have it," he explained. He held the gun out to me.
I blinked at the gun and raised my eyes to him. "But why?"
Vincent pressed the gun into my right hand. His gaze caught mine and his emerald green eyes were firm and unwavering. "Because if. . .if I'm really a werewolf, I don't want to hurt you. This will keep me from hurting you."
I winced. "I. . .it was never-"
"I know," he interrupted. He enclosed my fingers around the weapon and smiled at me. "But I still want you to have it."
I pursed my lips, but nodded. The gun was heavy, so I reached back to slip it into its holster. That's when I lost my balance and nearly toppled face-first into the hot coals that surrounded our sole source of heat.
Vincent grasped the front of my shoulders and chuckled. "Let me do it, and you can go back to sleep. Tomorrow we'll try reaching a town."
He placed the weapon in its holster and lay me down. I hated this babying.
"Tch. How do you know there's even a town?" I questioned him.
His smile never wavered as he held up the water bottle. "This doesn't look too old, so it must have come from somewhere, right?"
I rolled my eyes. "It might have blown in here from anywhere."
He shrugged. "Maybe, but we can look for that 'anywhere' tomorrow." I furrowed my brow and studied him. He noticed my eyes on him and blushed. "Is something the matter?"
"You've never talked like that before," I commented.
He blinked at me. "Like what?"
"Like you actually know what you want to do instead of just stumbling along this trail," I explained.
He sheepishly grinned and shrugged. "I guess that's your influence."
"Or you're close to getting your memories back," I suggested.
Vincent's face fell and he shook his head. "No, those haven't come back."
I laid down my head and closed my eyes. "Well, whatever the reason, keep that attitude. It looks good on you."
"Y-you really think so?" he asked me.
I snorted and the corners of my mouth twitched up. "It's better than the apologies, now let's get some sleep."
CHAPTER 2
Morning broke bright and late. The chill autumn air stole our breath away from us through our mouths in the form of white clouds. I cracked open my weary eyes and found Vincent was already up. He stooped over the warm fire and fetched a bean can from the outer coals.
"What's our food situation?" I murmured.
Vincent jumped and dropped the can back into the coals. He turned to me and smiled. "Good mo
rning."
"It'll be good when we've reached civilization," I retorted. Some of my strength had returned, so I sat up. I nodded at the can. "How many of those do we have left?"
"This is our last one," he admitted. He snatched it from the flames and placed it on the ground between us as we sat side-by-side. The top was open, and Vincent handed me the spoon. "You can go first."
I accepted the spoon and my eyes flickered to the blanket. It was tied in a small bundle on the other side of Vincent. "How many herbs do we have left?"
"Not much there, either," he told me. He rifled through the bag as I ate one bean at a time. My stomach grumbled, but after three days without food I couldn't obey its hungry demands. "Just some roots and bitter stuff," he announced.
I snorted. "So everything she had." I furrowed my brow as I thought back to our last time at the cabin. The shelf had been practically cleaned. "Could I have a look at that blanket?"
"What? Oh, sure thing." Vincent turned around so he faced me and scooted the blanket so it lay between us.
I looked over the contents and relaxed. The Proxy Plant wasn't among them.
"Were you looking for something?" Vincent asked me.
"The Proxy Plant," I admitted. "I didn't want you to accidentally eat it." The mention of the plant brought back memories of our final confrontation with Glenna. My eyes flickered up to Vincent's face. "Do you recall Glenna mentioning another proxy when we last saw her?"
Vincent furrowed his brow and nodded. "Yeah, she did. I think she called you a proxy."
I frowned. "A plant and me. What the hell is a proxy?"
"An agent," he translated.
I rolled my eyes. "I know what it means, but what is it? Why'd she call me a proxy, and why'd it sound like it had something to do with you?"
He shook his head. "I'm not sure, but we should probably get going. It's not going to be very warm today, and we can't pack the fire with us."
I looked over his pale body. His coat was still draped over me. I pulled the coat off me and held it out to him. "You should put this on. Werewolf or not, I don't want you getting sick, either."
He shook his head. "Keep it. I won't get sick."
I lowered the coat and raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
"Because of the curse. She cursed you and you nearly died," he reminded me. A smile spread across his lips. "Unless curses are contagious, you'll need that coat more than me."
A sudden, insane thought came to mind. I bit my lower lip and turned away from him. "You could-I mean, if you can, you could carry me on your back or in your arms. Then we can share the coat."
He blinked at me. "You're sure?"
My eyes flickered to him and I frowned. "Did I stutter?"
"Actually, you-"
"Yes, I'm sure," I told him.
"Well, then let's get going," he insisted.
The can of beans was polished off by Vincent, and he slipped on his coat. He placed the bag in my arms and swept me up into his own arms. The front of the coat was open so that either side wrapped around me. His chest was also quite warm and comfortable.
"Are you sure you can carry me very far?" I questioned him.
He smiled down at me. "As far as I need to."
"That's not exactly answering my question."
He chuckled. "It'll be okay. Trust me."
I frowned, but said nothing. Vincent took off at a brisk walk up the slight incline that defined the trail. Trees pressed close to the path and the brambles tried their best to snatch us in their thorny branches. The sun above our heads did nothing to alleviate the chill of autumn. A breeze stirred the trees and wafted over us. I shivered and pressed closer to Vincent. He blushed, but didn't comment.
Vincent walked for several hours before there was a noticeable decline in his speed. I looked up into his face and noticed his expression was strained.
"If it's too much for you I can walk," I offered.
He stopped and shook his head. "It's not that. I. . .I think I know this place."
I glanced at our surroundings. The trees were the same as before with the exception of an ancient pine tree. The Methuselah of the forest stood some hundred and fifty feet above the ground and towered over its smaller children. Its gnarled branches stretched in all directions and shaded the path.
Vincent walked us over to the thick base of the behemoth and tilted his head back to look up its trunk. "This tree is familiar."
"It'd be hard to forget something like that," I agreed. I turned back to his face. "But it-" Vincent leaned down and caught my lips in a passionate kiss.
I should have fought against him, but I couldn't find the will to push him away. A warmth spread through me that was not unwelcome, and I almost regretted when he pulled us apart. We both gasped for breath. A blush warmed my cheeks.
Vincent's eyes were lidded. The sun was at his back and the emerald color of his glowed in the shadow that stretched over his face. There was a far-away look in his gaze that caught me off guard.
"Vincent?"
He started back and nearly dropped me. A severe blush came over his own cheeks. "I-I'm sorry! I-um, I didn't mean to-well, to-" He looked away.
I raised an eyebrow. "How could you not mean to kiss someone?"
"I-well, that is, this tree reminded me of someone." He looked up at its branches. "And I-well, I couldn't help it."
I frowned and wiped my lips with the back of my hand. "Put me down."
He returned his gaze to me. "What? Why?"
"Just do it," I snapped.
He winced. "I'm sorry if I've made you mad, Leila. I didn't mean to-"
"Fine, I'll put myself down." I squirmed in his grasp, but he held me tighter. I whipped my head up and glared at him. "Let me go."
Vincent held his head, but released me. I slipped from his warm arms and was hit by the icy wind that brushed through the trees. My body shivered and I wrapped my coat closer to myself. I turned my back on Vincent and faced the upward path.
"Let's go before I freeze to death," I told him.
I didn't look back, but I heard his feet shuffle along behind me. The path was rougher than I anticipated. Rocks, protruding rotten stumps, and the inevitable tree root created a nightmare of obstacles for my tired legs. We traveled a few miles before my exhaustion overcame my stubborn pride. I stumbled and tripped over many of them.
"I can carry you," Vincent offered.
"I'm fine," I snapped.
"But-"
I spun around and glared at him. "I said I'm fine!"
Vincent cringed. I sighed and half-turned to the path ahead of us. The trailed stretched to the top of a hill some hundred yards from us and disappeared over the other side. "Damn it. How far does this go?"
My eyes widened as a head crested the hill. It belonged to a young man. He was dressed in a thick coat and there was a backpack slung over his shoulders. On his feet were heavy hiking boots and on his lips was a cheerful song.
I thought he might have been a mirage until Vincent yelled behind me. "Hey! Hey, over here!"
I turned and glared at him. "Shut up! He might not be-"
"Hello there!" came the reply from the stranger. He tromped down the hill and joined us. I scooted close to Vincent and checked on my weapon. A pleasant smile stretched across the man's lips. "It's nice to see some friendly faces." His eyes fell on me and he laughed. "Well, mostly friendly."
"Could you tell us if there's a town nearby?" Vincent asked him.
The man turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Don't you know?"
"We-um-"
"We lost our map a few days ago during the rainstorms, and most of our gear," I spoke up.
"That was a pretty bad storm, wasn't it? Here, you can have my spare." He slipped his backpack off and set the bag on the ground. The man knelt in front of it and rummaged around before he produced a folded map. "Don't worry about taking it. I can get one in the next city," he assured us.
"That's very kind of you," Vincent complimented him as he took th
e map.
"It's no problem," the man replied as he shouldered his backpack. "Like I said, it's just nice to see someone who can smile at me."
I raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He jerked his head over his shoulder. "The next town over that hill had a lot of unfriendly people. I don't think they trust outsiders, so you might want to get in and out as fast as you can."
Vincent unfolded the map and looked it over. I stepped up beside him. Our friendly guide moved to stand in front of us, and he pointed at a point in the national forest. "This is where we are, and this-" he drew a line with his finger that followed the hill and dipped over the top to a tiny dot on the map, "-is Celatum. That's the town I'm talking about."
"Celatum. . ." Vincent repeated.
I glanced up into his face. "Does that sound familiar?"
He nodded. "Yeah, a little."
"I'm surprised you're going back. The people there gave me the cold shoulder the entire time I was there. I felt lucky to get a 'hello' out of them," the man told us. He shivered and readjusted his coat. "Well, I'd better be going. It's not getting any warmer out here. Good luck with your hike."
"And yours," Vincent replied.
The man waved and passed by us down the winding path we left behind us. I took the map from Vincent and looked over the distance key.
"It looks like it's just a couple of miles. We can reach it before night," I commented.
Vincent frowned. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"
He sheepishly grinned and shrugged. "I'm not really sure. I just have this feeling."
"Well, your 'feeling' won't get us any more food. We don't even have any more beans, remember?" I pointed out.
Vincent straightened and his lips tightened. His eyes flickered to the path ahead of us. "I know, but I still have a bad feeling about that place."
I studied his face for a moment and sighed. "If we find trouble we'll just leave," I suggested. I tried to fold the map into its original compactness, but the paper segments wouldn't bend. "Damn thing. Why won't you work?"
"Let me," Vincent offered. He took the map and quickly folded it into its compact form.
I frowned and took the map back. "Show off. . ."
CHAPTER 3
We continued on our way up the hill. The chance at a soft bed and real food quickened my step, and we reached crested the hill in a few minutes. The top looked out on an upper-elevation plateau. Three sides of the flat area were covered by more treed hills. A single highway led into the town from the western side. The road led into a small town of maybe a thousand people. Their quaint, two-story homes were lined up in two dozen blocks with a main street that separated the town into two equal parts. One of the two lay close to the bottom of the hill on which we stood. The other lay on the opposite side of the road to the northwest.