Moon-Swell (Lone March #4)

Moon-Swell

The Lone March Series

Book 4

Erin Irvin

Moon-Swell

Erin Irvin

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2012 by Erin Irvin

These stories are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Erin Irvin.

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For the Solomon Four.

Acknowledgements:

Thanks to Glasser and Bon Iver, who were unmatched muses during the whole writing of this book.

Thanks to Jonathan Solomon, the real lawyer, for more fictional legal advice.

Thanks to Erin Jay, for all those writing sessions, working together but separately, and feeding off each other’s creative energy for hours on end—you were and are more helpful than you know!

To Ben and Jack, my beautiful nephews, who kept me busy enough throughout the waking hours and beyond, to take my writing time seriously and get the work done when I had the chance.

To my sister, Amy, for suffering through my many rants and ramblings with each successive chapter, as I very annoyingly did my thinking out loud.

To England, which I still miss every day, and which I thought particularly a lot about while writing Chapter 26.

And always, to Travis, who’s there through it all.

Moon-Swell

Chapter One

AHHHHmmm!

My scream was immediately muffled by a hand with a scent I only vaguely recognized as belonging to one of the were-wolves from the other packs Elliot had summoned, which had all been at our den less than a week ago. Now they were here, in Avery’s car, kidnapping me right from school.

An arm swung around my waist and pulled me out of my seat in the front, into the back where I was immediately bound, gagged, and blindfolded. It was horrifying to know how utterly helpless I was—how completely trapped I was.

How could I possibly get out of this?

With my vision gone, I listened as the stolen Escalade rumbled along and I noticed we weren’t going all that fast. You would think my kidnappers would have the pedal to the metal, I thought. Then I remembered my guards. Quinn had stationed guys around the school specifically in case this happened. Now I understood why they had stolen Avery’s car—not just to trick me so I would get in, but to fool the guards, too. Having the Escalade made it look like everything was fine and Avery was just taking me home as usual.

I knew we were outside of the school zone because we had picked up speed and seemed to be gaining more and more of it.

I screamed through my gag, but it was useless. I couldn’t get out any words and barely any sound. And even if I could, what good would it really have done? I swallowed the lump in my throat before realizing that my face was covered, so I could cry without them knowing. With that, my tears broke instantly.

You know, that grandfather of yours must not care much about you to let you get taken so easily. Greggor’s smooth voice spoke from the driver’s seat. "And it was easy. I could hear the grin in his voice. Or maybe he just didn’t know what he had, when he had you. He never was the sharpest tooth in the hound."

I was fuming. The anger his words had caused had stifled my tears and now, I just sat there, seething through my gag and blindfold.

I told you this wasn’t over, he said with amusement.

We were clearly getting outside of town now. Through the air-conditioner I could smell the different scents surrounding us and they weren’t Glenbrook anymore.

I didn’t know where we were going, but the gravelly road told me we were on a rural highway. We rumbled along in silence for fifteen minutes, though it felt like an eternity. Then, suddenly, a force hit the top of the car and, after jumping a little, I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. It had to be one of the guys—they had figured out what happened and caught up to us!

All the men started yelling at each other, some saying to pull over, some saying to keep going and try to throw them off, but one thing was clear: they weren’t expecting it.

Before they could make their decision, the back window shattered and I could hear the sounds of someone crashing through.

Greggor and his men barely got a word out before they were all succinctly knocked out and, obviously bound, because I could hear the sounds of tying ropes. Then, the car slammed to a halt, the doors opened, and bodies were pitched out, like the weight of these burly were-wolves was nothing.

There was more than one person—I could tell by the distinct and conflicting sounds of fighting from two different areas of the car. But what I couldn’t tell was who they were; I didn’t recognize their scents. Actually, they didn’t really smell like were-wolves at all. They couldn’t be human, so who were they?

I gave a muffled shout through my gag, but they must not have understood that I was trying to say, ‘Hi—get this stuff off me—and, by the way, thanks for saving me!’

I felt the car pull a U-turn, heading back toward Glenbrook, and I tried to relax, despite the fact that they were keeping me bound and blind.

Wait—what if they weren’t saving me? What if they were just more were-wolves (who had, somehow, covered up their scents) and they were just taking over the kidnapping??

The ride was eerily quiet. I didn’t know how they were communicating with each other (if they were) but neither of them made a noise. The one who wasn’t driving sat next to me, and I tried to move closer to him or her to discern something further from the scent, but an elbow jutted out and pushed me back to my side. I gave a grunt at being elbowed, but still, neither uttered a sound. They obviously didn’t want me figuring out anything from either their scents or the timbres of their voices.

Before too long, I felt us slow down and eventually, the car stopped. I didn’t know where we were, but there were several speed bumps.

There was a lot of stirring as my rescuers exited the car. Wherever they were going, they took off fast, and in a matter of seconds, I was left alone and I couldn’t even hear their footsteps anymore. Obviously they went off to get their alpha, or boss, or whatever. I couldn’t hear or smell anyone outside the car, but, as I’d learned from the two mystery rescuers/new she-wolf-nappers, that didn’t mean anything. Someone was out there, guarding the Escalade, watching me—they had to be.

But even so, I knew I couldn’t just keep sitting here. I was going to try to escape until I got caught. Then I’d try again and I’d keep trying till they knocked me out or did whatever they planned to do with me. I couldn’t just give up. So I lifted my legs in the air and pulled my bound hands from my backside to the front by looping them under and around my legs. I tried to pull my blindfold off, but it was really tight, and too hard to do with my bound hands, so, I slid across the seat, reached for the handle, and kicked the door open with my feet. The cool air hit me and I breathed in what I decided, with new perplexity, were the smells of the school. So far, no one was shouting or running at me to keep me in the car. Was it possible I was alone? Had they really left? And did they really just rescue me and set me free?

I hopped out of the Escalade, careful to keep my balance, and walked around a few steps to try and orientate myself.

I didn’t know what was going on here, but that wasn’t going to stop me from continuing my escape attempt. I would have to take my lupine to get out of my binding. But I had to make sure no one saw. I circled around, perking up my ears to listen for the sounds of anyone near. I didn’t hear any, but I was still afraid to change, in case someone happened to come along and see me. So, I stood still and breathed in deep through my nose, trying to find the direction of the strip of trees that had become such a common setting in my life recently.

When I sniffed out the smell of pine, I took off at once, making my way steadily down the hill, next to the school building, careful not to trip and fall, though I couldn’t see the path before me.

I followed my nose till I knew I was directly in the center of the strip. Then, I took a deep breath and began the picturing-self-into-wolf process.

In literally a matter of seconds, all my muscles tensed and my lupine burst from me. I had taken my wolf form so much while I was away with Elliot, that it had become like second nature to me.

All my binding ripped away from me and, along with that, my clothes, too. I sighed inwardly. I’d lost a significant portion of my wardrobe from changes and I hadn’t even been a were-wolf two months.

As I shrugged off this thought, I glanced at the trees through my wolf eyes. The last time I had been here, I’d fought that mangy wolf. I’d more than fought him, actually—I’d killed him.

Just as I was recalling the image of puncturing his neck with my teeth, my eyes caught at the neighborhood on the other side of the strip. My home. I could see the front of my old house down the street, looking quiet and lonely and somehow smaller than the houses around it. Before I knew what I was doing, I was walking through the strip, toward Briar Patch Lane. I knew I should be going straight to the den—after being almost-kidnapped and then left to my own devices, I needed to get to Quinn and protection as soon as possible. But I couldn’t help myself. It was the first time I had seen my house since the night I escaped Elliot and Avery had picked me up, as I ran—naked—through my neighborhood. Since then, I had been shuffled from the Purvises’ to the Harpers’, with the contents of my room, all the while dancing around the possibility of ever getting to see my house again.

The familiarity of it pulled me forward like a magnet and even in my wolf form, it felt as natural as ever walking down the street and across the lawn, as if I’d never left, as if I still did it every day.

I noticed the ‘For Sale’ sign in the yard, shiny and bright to the point of intensity so that it contrasted starkly with the deserted house. When I approached the door, I noticed the knob had one of those special locks on it that realtors used for unoccupied houses. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to just walk through the door like I still lived here.

Circling around toward the back yard and hopping the fence, I checked the sliding door and found it locked as well. I pushed my wet nose up against the door and breathed out in frustration. As the glass fogged, I decided I wasn’t leaving without going inside for a minute. I didn’t know when I’d get the chance again, and after my attempted kidnapping, I suddenly felt I really needed this.

I stepped back and glanced around. The neighbors on all three sides had privacy fences around their back yards, so no one would notice if I started attacking the kitchen window. With that, I threw myself at the small window, hurling my body at the center. I thought it would take several tries, but I found myself diving instantly through. It was a testament to my suspicions that I was getting stronger as I grew into my were-ness.

Landing with a thud on the tile floor, I stepped carefully around the bits of glass and walked into the center of the dining area, where the table used to be. As my heart pounded against my chest from the emotional impact of being back here, I hastily took my human form and stood up.

The afternoon light seeped through the blinds and did what it could to brighten the dark house, but it didn’t matter—my perfect were-wolf vision could have seen it in total darkness.

I found myself veering right, toward my old bedroom. When my feet hit the carpet and the hallway walls swallowed me, I tried to breathe in the familiar smells of home, but they were gone. My door stood open and I didn’t hesitate to walk through.

From the center of the room, I looked around me at the strange, empty space, trying to see my furniture sitting around, and my things on the walls. But so much had happened in the last six weeks that it felt like ages since I’d been here. And I couldn’t even remember how it used to look.

Walking to the window, I peered out, careful not to expose my bare body to the neighborhood, and eyed the bushes just under the sill, and the ground beyond. A month and a half ago, there had been a wolf sitting out there, looking despondently up at me and whining incessantly. Two weeks later, I’d killed him.

I exhaled a long breath and walked toward the door. The light switch caught my eye. Slowly, I brought my hand up and put my thumb over it. Remembering my first departure from this room, and by extension, this life, I looked over my shoulder to give a parting glance to my room. Last time, I’d wondered when I’d be back to turn on my light again. I couldn’t have imagined all the things that have happened since that night. I flipped the switch up, but, as I knew would be the case, there was no light to fill my room. I flipped it back down and started to step out into the hall.

As I brought my eyes up from the floor, I was given a sudden shock when I saw a vision of Greyson’s figure, standing outside my room, in his holey jeans and dark hoodie, waiting patiently for me. Though his image was faint, it seemed much clearer for the simple fact that it was so completely unexpected. I cocked my head at his soft, lopsided smile as he looked just past me, offering his hand to the invisible, six-week-younger version of me. I was so much younger then. I had no idea what was coming. My animal tendencies had yet to fully show themselves.

One blink and he was gone. And I walked on down the hall, recalling the other prominent image of that night, which followed right behind that of Greyson.

Again, the unexpected vision appeared fast before me. My breath caught at the sight and I lifted my hand over my mouth and shook my head. I tried to shut out the scene by closing my eyes, but when I opened them, it was still there, flickering slowly. A wavering, hazy picture of my parents, lying helpless and near-dead on the floor. Where in real life there had been six were-wolves standing around the living room, there were now none, only my parents’ foggy forms, shifting ribbons that seemed to capitalize on the loss that followed.

I threw my eyes up to the ceiling, biting down on my tongue as if it could help hold back the lump in my throat somehow. I traced the tops of the walls with my eyes, refusing to watch the scene I knew I was unable to change.

I gave up on waiting for it to play out, and resolutely stepped forward, walking through the vision till it dissipated, and I soon found myself in their bedroom. Despite my grief already having been drudged up from the vision, I couldn’t help taking one last look at their room. I felt like I needed to say goodbye.

Three steps in, and an image I’d seen a thousand times burst forth from the emptiness. My mother, standing at her invisible vanity, putting on lipstick. No sooner had I seen this than she began to walk toward me. She was putting on an earring as she walked right through me, probably on her way to the kitchen to make me breakfast—something I would hate and would freely complain about—like oatmeal—but that she knew would be good for me. I twirled around to follow her, hoping the vision would continue.

Sure enough, as I stepped back into the kitchen, I saw that she was not only there, but the dining table was back—the whole kitchen, in fact, was visible, just as it had been when we lived here. I could hear nothing, but I saw her cracking eggs. As she scrambled them, her mouth moved and I knew she was calling me to come eat. Soon, she was setting the table, a plate of eggs, fruit, and toast ready for me. The next thing I knew, a figure was walking past me and I saw it was my dad, seating himself at the table. As he took his first bite, my mom called silently for me again and sat down across from Dad.

I couldn’t stand it anymore. I dropped to my knees, ignoring the spike of pain as they hit the hard, tile floor, and wept wildly. My head hung low and my hair skimmed the ground as I watched the tears drip down between my naked legs. When a small puddle had formed, I stuck all five fingers of my right hand into the center and spread them out in all directions, dispersing the liquid till it thinned out and couldn’t recollect itself—the perfect image of how I felt about my life.

And just like that, when I looked back up, they were gone. The room seemed even darker and more drab than before. My parents took the warmth with them.

I sniffed up my snot and wiped the remaining wetness from my face. Pulling my hair behind my ears, I lifted myself up and took a deep breath. I knew it was time to go.

Before I got any closer to the shattered glass on the kitchen floor, I took my lupine. Then I leapt up on the counter and straight through the window, promising myself, as I left the house behind, that I wouldn’t dwell on what I’d just seen—at least not until I’d dealt with the issue at hand. I had to get to safety and then tell Quinn about the kidnapping, so we could figure out a new plan to keep it from happening again.

Back in the strip of woods, I loped between the trees, breaking out at full speed once I reached the edge, and headed toward the den.

Chapter Two

You would think I’d be totally out of breath and ready to pass out by the time I got to the den, but, in fact, I barely felt like I’d broken a sweat—I was just settling into the run when I got there. I really loved running now, and besides the fact that I hadn’t done any cross-country-ing for a while, it was helping me block out the sadness I’d just experienced, so it felt extra good.

I slowed down once I hit the hospital parking lot, knowing two of the guys would be standing watch at the of doors, and knowing also that if I came barreling in, they might think I’m, well, anyone outside the pack, and attack me before they had a chance to catch a whiff of my scent and know it was me.

As suspected, they got into their defensive poses when they saw me, but soon shuffled out of them once they picked up my scent. Justin opened one of the boarded-up doors for me and I stepped right through, picking up my run again and making a bee-line for Greyson’s room, where I could get some clothes and change forms.

I bounded up the stairs, jumped up on my hind legs and used my front paws to push through the doors.

When I got to Greyson’s door, I reared up to push through it, but fell back to all fours before I did. This was his bedroom. Just because I viewed all the rooms at the den as temporary, make-shift rooms, since they were in an abandoned hospital building, didn’t mean they weren’t still private quarters. Regardless of how it looked (and no matter how sad this was) Greyson certainly didn’t view it as temporary. He’d lived here for several years—longer than even I can say for the last two places I’ve held residence. So this was a real bedroom, and I needed to respect that.

I lifted a paw and scratched lightly on the door. There was a pause of silence, then, I heard movement as he walked to the door and opened it, revealing a look of confusion.

March! he said instantly.

It was so good to see him. It had only been a couple of days, but so much had happened since I’d seen him last. With all the school drama—all my friends hating me, my freak-out in debate, detentions—it felt like ages since I’d had a good friend by my side. Then, there was the other stuff, of course. The weird Jasper feelings, and then the kissing him thing, and then…the weird Avery feelings springing up in the middle of that kiss and completely throwing me for a loop. And then I got kidnapped. Never again will I underestimate how many things can go wrong in only two days. Actually, never again will I underestimate how many things can go wrong in any amount of time for the girl who’s the last female were-wolf on earth.

Greyson opened his door fully to let me in and, without saying anything else, he walked straight to his little makeshift closet, tugged off a tee shirt and a pair of jeans, and laid them on the bed for me. Then, he walked right out, shutting the door behind him.

I smiled (well, as much as a wolf can really smile) and walked over to his bed, relieved that I hadn’t needed to give an elaborate charades performance to communicate with him. He knew what I needed and that was a comforting thing.

It just reminded me that he was the one I needed to be with; he was on my level. I didn’t need another human, like Jasper, and I def didn’t need to think anything about Avery beyond him being a good friend. I’m sure the whole thing was just a moment of inner confusion, that’s all. I had just gotten my emotions all mixed up in the heat of the moment with Jasper.

Avery had done a lot for me, and been there for me through all this crazy were existence I’d been living for two months. I was sure it was totally normal for a person to have a moment of mixed-up feelings about someone they were close to. It was nothing. I had gotten all uppity and blubbery for nothing. Greyson was the one I needed to be thinking this way about; he was the one for me.

I made my change quickly and threw on the jeans. Pulling the blue tee shirt on as I walked to the door, I reflected on how comfortable I’d gotten wearing guy clothes since, lately, it seemed I’d been wearing them more than anything else. I poked my head out. You can come back in now, I told Greyson, who was waiting politely a few steps down the hall.

So, hi, he said, shutting the door. What are you—

Before he could get anything else out, I leaned up and kissed him. Not just a peck, but as passionate a kiss as I had in me under the circumstances (the circumstances of just having been kidnapped, and then revisiting my old life, that is). Although, I had to admit to myself, part of it was also just to remind myself of the rightness of kissing Greyson, as opposed to anyone else.

Has anyone ever told you you’re really good at the greeting thing? he asked with a grin as he wrapped an arm around me and brought his free hand up to pinch my earlobe in his usual loving gesture toward me.

Hey, you’re not half bad yourself, I said.

So, what are you doing here? And why’d you come in your lupine form?

I exhaled, dropping my smile as I recalled the ordeal. I got kidnapped today.

What?! What do you mean? By who??

Well, don’t freak out. I’m standing right here; I’m okay.

March, he said in a ‘get-real’ tone, of course I’m gonna freak out. Now tell me what happened.

They stole Avery’s Escalade and picked me up from school in it.

Who??

Oh, sorry. Greggor and a couple of his guys, I said.

I should’ve known.

That reminds me—I need to call Avery and let him know that both me and his Escalade are okay—oh, wait, you don’t have a cell phone.

Yeah I do, he said, walking to a chair that sat by his bed, which acted as a night stand. It’s a pre-paid phone.

Oh, okay, great—I’ll try not to use more than a minute or so, I told him as he handed me the phone.

Use as much as you need, he said. I can buy more minutes when I need them. I smiled at him as I dialed. Meanwhile, let’s head downstairs. Quinn will want to know about this. He put his hand on my back and ushered me out of his room.

I squared everything with Avery (who said he was on his way to pick me up in the same worried tone that Greyson had used) as we made our way down to the lobby and then the headquarters room, where Quinn was.

I heard talking as we neared the door, which Greyson opened promptly. A strange sight was found on the other side—Quinn was sitting and chatting easily with Brigham, our prisoner and son of the enemy. Okay, I know I’d done the same thing when I’d chatted with him during lunch the other day, but I didn’t expect Quinn to. Plus, he had let him out of his cell. I know I’d asked him to take care of the kid, but this seemed above and beyond as far as Quinn should be concerned.

March! they both exclaimed in unison.

Without even looking back, I could feel Greyson fuming behind me. On the one hand, I couldn’t blame him for being wary of the guy who was technically supposed to be the enemy (even though, during the short time I’d chatted with Brigham, I’d decided he seemed pretty okay, and def not like his dad). But on the other hand,