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    Red Moon
    Red Moon
    Red Moon
    Ebook223 pages3 hours

    Red Moon

    By Amber Douglas

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Two wolf packs join forces in California to defeat a genetically-enhanced wolf, known as a werewolf, from destroying Southern California.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAmber Douglas
    Release dateJan 17, 2013
    ISBN9781301837496
    Red Moon
    Author

    Amber Douglas

    I'm a native Arizonan and while growing up, I would often write down notes about stories germinating in my head. I was always interested in the fantasy genre, having been introduced to Anne McCaffrey's Riders of Pern book series (may she rest in peace) in elementary school. I devoured Piers Anthony, Raymond E. Feist, and later, Lord of the Rings. In trying my hand at mysteries, I've found they are fickle things, like a knot in yarn. Instead of cutting it, try to work it out and once unraveled, have a straight line of yarn again. I will some more books coming soon, so please enjoy the ones I have out now. Reviews from readers: The Fallen Angel Review by: Gerty So on Jan. 20, 2013 : Wow, what a story.... I loved it.... Please keep writing, you are great at it..... A Highly Recommended Read..... The Fallen Angel Review by: Anonymous (Barnes and Noble) on June 27, 2013: Short and sweet...a happily ever after ending The Fallen Angel Review by Val Zykwa (Apple store) It was ok...I wish it was longer! A Pie for Papa Review by: Gerty So on Jan. 20, 2013 : Another great read......

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      Book preview

      Red Moon - Amber Douglas

      Chapter One

      Dr. Jason Selby walked briskly down the hall of the city morgue. His white lab coat flew behind him like a cape. He reached up to his black face and adjusted the wire-rim glasses perched on his nose for the hundredth time that day. He kept rubbing his nails into his palms, brimming with excitement.

      Dr. Clark Hennessy, his mentor and the elder doctor, was a grizzled old white man. He limped slightly as his knees would allow limited movement. The old man looked up as the door opened and Jason entered.

      Is it here? Jason whispered excitedly. The elder doctor grinned as he motioned to a box on the dissection table. The package had cleared customs only hours earlier. Dr. Hennessy had taken great pains to ensure its arrival from Romania in one piece.

      With Jason looking over his shoulder, Dr. Hennessy carefully opened the box, and took out the organ storage container. He twisted off the top and Jason gasped in awe. Resting amid the fog of dry ice, was the heart. It was still red from its extraction from its owner.

      Jason had put on latex gloves and now he slowly reached his hand out and laid a finger on the heart. He jerked back his finger with a curse. The heart contracted and let out an audible thump as it beat.

      Dr. Hennessy laughed. This, Jason, is a rare specimen. It was harvested from the European species of Canis lupus, or grey wolf.

      Jason frowned. Why is rare? There are plenty of wolves in Europe.

      Dr. Clark Hennessy lowered himself into a chair, sighing with relief. True enough there are wolves in Europe. What you don’t know is that there are werewolves in Europe. This heart was harvested from one.

      But doctor, werewolves don’t exist. That heart belongs to an animal wolf. Jason protested. Clark merely smiled.

      They do exist, my boy. To prove myself right, we will do an DNA analysis. I have always thought werewolves existed. Now, I believe this will be my proof.

      Jason couldn’t help but stare at the heart. He doubted the old doctor and his wild tales. But this came from an European wolf, not a werewolf. He poked the heart again less gently than the first time. He jerked back when the heart beat again. A sinking feeling settled in his gut. What if the heart came from a true werewolf?

      Chapter Two

      The black wolf watched the four humans spread the food out on the picnic table. The three males were laughing, dressed in plaid shirts and dirty jeans. The one on the left was burly, like a football player. The middle one was skinny, with bones showing. The one on the right was the combination of the other two. The wolf speculated this man must have been a middle brother. The black wolf soon got bored, curling his lip in disgust as the skinny one of the trio raised a beer can to his lips. His eyes narrowed as he hunkered down in the brush.

      Marie! the burliest one suddenly bellowed. Time for lunch!

      The wolf’s green eyes darted towards movement to his left. He stared as a young girl, probably seventeen or eighteen, bounded towards the picnic table, her sandy hair flying behind her. She was dressed in extremely short shorts, barely covering her thighs. Her shirt was V-necked, a pale pink accentuated by her hair.

      Here, Dad! What’s for lunch? As the girl named Marie went to sit at one end of the large table, she angled herself so she was looking into the woods behind her father and the other two men. Her father’s back was to the wolf, who held his breath, trying not to breathe. The other two men were oblivious to their surroundings. The wolf froze, hearing only its heartbeat. She had a tan complexion, with turquoise blue eyes framed by her sandy hair.

      She would be perfect for me.

      He suddenly shook his head at the thought, his fur settling down. No. She was a human female. Humans were taught to fear his kind, not embrace it. He closed his eyes, willing his heartbeat to slow. He opened them and went back to staring at her, staring at the smile that graced her face, hearing her laughter as it carried on the wind from something one of the other men said.

      She’s perfect. Just right for an alpha’s mate.

      The wolf froze again, his eyes staring straight at her, when he heard her say, Dad, are there any wolves here?

      The burly man frowned. Wolves? Yeah, think so. Heard there may be a pack or two somewhere around here. Why?

      I think I see one now. Her voice had dropped to a whisper. She was staring at the wolf’s hiding place. He coiled his muscles, hunkering down in the cover of the bushes, claws extending, lips being pulled back to reveal canines. No one can see us and live to tell about it.

      Marie screamed as the wolf burst from the foliage and attacked. Her father whirled around, yelling something the wolf couldn’t make out. The skinny man dove for his pack on the ground. The other man threw a beer can at the wolf, who leaped easily over the picnic bench, and latched onto the beer-thrower man with his powerful jaws.

      The wolf jerked his head sideways and he heard the crunch of bone. The man lay limp in his jaws. The wolf let go and dropped the man, turning his attention to the others. The wolf heard a gunshot. He jumped sideways as he felt splinters as the bullet ricocheted off the from the bench. He laid his nose close to the ground, green eyes narrowed. The skinny man had been knocked unconscious. Her father had a handgun pointed and cocked in the wolf’s direction.

      The wolf tried a different approach. He quickly looked away, ears perked. The man followed his bluff. The wolf shot off the ground, leaping directly at the man. He heard the girl scream, "Daddy!" as the wolf closed his jaws around the man’s gun arm. He wrenched his head, and the man’s arm ripped apart. The man screamed in pain, and the wolf finished him off. He turned around when he heard a groaning coming from near the picnic table.

      The skinny man sat up, a cut oozing blood on his forehead. The wolf calmly walked over to the man and chomped on his head. The wolf finished and too late, saw the girl running away. She looked back once, and her turquoise eyes were bright with fear. The black wolf charged after her and saw her disappear over a hill. He skidded to a halt. He lifted his nose high. Scents of other humans wafted into the air. He heard her sobbing, telling them what she saw. He heard their running footsteps.

      Where was it? Over here?

      Yes, Marie sobbed. It was a giant black wolf, it killed my dad and uncles. It was huge!

      The wolf wheeled and dashed for his cover. From behind the safety of trees and brush, he watched a tall thin man dressed in military camouflage pull out a weapon similar to the one her father used and hold it out, sweeping the area. There was a black-haired woman with the girl. She pulled out her phone and dialed it.

      Hello? I want to report three murders. I’m with a survivor. She said it was a black wolf. The woman continued talking to the operator.

      The wolf pricked his ears. Sirens. Coming closer.

      It was now or never. There were only two. He had taken three down by himself. Two more should not be a problem. He rushed the man first, targeting the hands holding the gun. The shots went wild; none hit the wolf. He dispatched the man easily. He turned on the woman. She was holding Marie behind her, her brown eyes wide, but calculating.

      Run. The wolf heard her whisper to Marie, who was still frozen in place. The woman turned to her. Run! Marie took off like a flushed rabbit.

      The wolf kept the woman’s attention on him. He leaped forward and managed to clamp his jaws on her shoulder. He dispatched the woman when he broke her neck. The wolf looked up, seeing footprints where Marie had fled. He wasn’t going to let Marie get away again. He bounded after her, intent now on the chase.

      He followed her footprints, knowing he would eventually catch up to her. He saw her several yards ahead. She stumbled as her foot slipped on some rocks. In that moment, he closed the gap and came to a halt. She had fallen down and she was now facing him on her back, her dirty face streaked with tears. She was breathing heavily, her turquoise eyes wide and watery.

      She screamed as he lifted her up in his jaws. She beat him on the muzzle in a futile attempt. He knew she was trying to get him to put her down. Which wasn’t going to happen. Marie had a good set of lungs on her, as the wolf’s ears were ringing from all her screaming.

      I can’t let them find her. She will lead them to us. I’m sorry ahead of time for this.

      Choosing the only course of action available to him, he whipped his head and heard a crack as the back of her head hit a tree. She suddenly went limp in his mouth. He glanced back before dashing away into the woods.

      Chapter Three

      You homework for tonight is reading the story of Beowulf and writing about theme and foreshadowing. I want a three-page essay, but you can go up to five, max. Dismissed.

      Matthew Turner, Ph.D. of Classical Mythology finished his lecture on foreshadowing and exaggeration. He swept his graying blond hair away from his brown eyes and set about collecting his papers. The class was popular as the thirty students who signed up at the beginning of the term proved. Not one had dropped the course.

      He glanced up the clock and sighed. He had five minutes before the next class would start. Students were already filing in, looking around shyly before settling in their seats. The door opened and a light breeze blew through, lifting the papers Dr. Turner had stacked on the desk, and scattering them.

      Muttering curses under his breath in several different languages, he saw a dainty hand extend towards him, holding a sheaf of papers in her hand. Matthew straightened up and saw it was a young woman.

      What class do you teach, professor?

      Classical Mythology, he answered. I just finished lecturing on Beowulf. She handed him the papers and he tucked them under his arm.

      Will you be teaching it next term?

      Of course. Unfortunately I only have thirty seats open, so the sooner you register, the better if you’re interested. He smiled, seeing that she was interested as her eyes widened and she was nodding.

      He excused himself as more students filed in. Matthew walked out of the classroom and walked down the hall of Hatley Castle, the main building for the Royal Roads University in British Colombia, Canada. Dr. Turner reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He beeped the key pad, and opened the back door first, stuffing his papers into a pile on the back seat. He straightened up and sighed. He was nearing forty and already he felt decades older.

      He got in the car and backed out the parking lot. He drove down the street to his house, situated in a tiny housing community. Scenes from the story of Beowulf flashed in his mind. He had to wonder, what would a man sacrifice to have it all?

      Chapter Four

      Dr. Jason Selby rubbed his tired eyes. It was well after midnight at the morgue. He had studied the blood samples from the heart. It started to creep him out whenever he touched the thing. It jumped and started beating as if it was still alive. As if the heart was still keeping its owner alive.

      Jason rubbed his hands together, then rubbed his sweaty palms on the front of his lab coat. He stretched, hearing his back crack. He glanced over to the clear glass coffee pot and groaned. There was very little coffee left. Grumbling, he got up and set about making more.

      Jason leaned against the table that housed the coffee maker, idly watching it brew. He glanced up at the clock. Dr. Clark Hennessy had left the morgue close to ten last night. He wouldn’t be back in the morgue until seven that morning. In six hours, Jason mused.

      Jason wandered over to the box where the heart rested. Dr. Hennessy had carefully and delicately placed it back in its nest in the organ storage container. Jason noticed a small piece of paper nestled in the packaging surrounding the container. He pulled it out and read it.

      ‘To Dr. Clark Hennessy. The wolf this heart was harvested from was a female. She has no pups as I have checked, but what else to call pups who are also human? I plan on staying here in Budapest for at least a few more weeks. I will write you when I have more information. Signed, T. E. White.’

      Jason snorted. Pups who are also human? There was no such thing. He sighed and placed the note back in the packaging. He would show it to Dr. Hennessy when he comes in. Jason was in the act of pouring himself a cup of coffee when he heard the heart start beating. He flinched, causing the hot liquid to spill over his hand and the table.

      He cursed, gasping in the pain. He swiftly put down the coffee pot and turned around to the table. You could have warned me! he shouted at the heart. If you would stop these stupid beatings every so often, I would not have spilled my coffee!

      I’m yelling at an organ, Jason realized. A dead organ. He shook his head. He had been up far too long. He needed sleep. He grabbed some napkins that were nearby and daubed up the liquid. He risked a glance to the heart. He didn’t know whether to feel relief or worry at its silence.

      He finished his task and finished fixing his coffee. He carried the cup over to his microscope and set it down beside it. Jason suddenly had a thought and he acted on it. He walked slowly over to the container and opened it. The heart was still perfect. He reached out and this time, placed a hand on its surface.

      He froze. It was warm! It wasn’t supposed to be warm. He had felt it earlier. It had been cold earlier, surrounded by the dry ice. The dry ice was still there, at the bottom. He took it out cupped in his palms. As soon as the organ was free of the container, it thumped.

      Jason nearly dropped it as it started thumping in a more steady rhythm. It was beating.

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