Moon Sworn

Chapter 7

Waking was an abrupt and ugly process. Sensations flooded my mind, overwhelming and confusing and, most of all, painful.

My body burned, my skin burned, my head burned. Everything hurt. My back, my legs, my arms, my face. Even my goddamn brain.

It felt like someone had strung me up and used me as a punching bag. A bag that now lay abandoned and forgotten.

I lay on my back, and the surface beneath me was sandy and hot. It stuck to my skin, grinding like sandpaper, itching and hurting all at the same time.

The air was also heated, and ripe with flavors that were strange and oddly exciting. There was a vastness to the air, an emptiness, as if I were lying somewhere that held nothing and nobody except me and the burning earth.

I tried to open my eyes and discovered I couldn’t. I frowned and lifted a hand. My arm felt heavy, tired. My fingertips, when I brushed my face, felt nothing, although the lack of sensation did not apply to the hand as a whole. Frown deepening, I switched hands. Felt the dry stickiness caking my eyes.

Blood.

There was blood on my face.

Why was there blood on my face?

I didn’t know, and that scared me far more than the burning in my body and brain.

I rubbed the blood away and forced my eyelids open. The sky above me was blue. A deep rich blue from which the sun burned brightly.

That’s why my skin burned. I was getting burned.

I twisted my head, looking for cover. The land stretched out before me, filled with sandy red hills and scrubbylooking plants. It seemed totally empty of any other sort of life.

How the hell did I get here?

I didn’t know. I really didn’t know.

Fear swirled, briefly catching in my throat and making it hard to breathe. I forced it away. I could worry about the hows and whys later. Right now, I needed to find myself some shade or I wasn’t going to survive much longer.

And I didn’t want to die. I’d followed that path once before, and though it had been tempting, in the end it had not been for me.

I frowned at the thought, not really understanding it and too damn worried about the here and now to chase it.

I forced myself upright. If I thought my body had been aching before, then that one action proved just how wrong I’d been. God, it hurt. Fiercely. Brutally. Tears stung my eyes and fell down my cheeks, mingling with a warmer liquid that seemed to be running down the side of my face.

More blood.

And not just on my face.

My torso was a mass of bruises and cuts. There was an ugly, half-healed wound on my shoulder, abrasions scattered across my skin, a massive yellowing bruise stretching from under my breast down to my hip, and my knees were cut and scabby.

Had someone used me as a punching bag? Right now, it sure as hell felt like it. But if they had, how had I ended up here, in the middle of goddamn nowhere?

I didn’t know. Not anything. The ache in my brain seemed to be all-consuming, and nothing was getting past it. Nothing except pain and the need to find shelter before the sun burned me to a crisp.

I lightly hugged my knees with my arms and stared at the landscape around me. Hill after red hill. Few trees, no houses, no cars, and certainly no people.

There weren’t even footprints in the earth. How I’d gotten here was anyone’s guess. Hell, I might have been dropped from the sky for all I knew. But sitting here wondering how I’d gotten into this situation rather than doing something about it wasn’t going to stop my skin from getting redder.

I braced my hands against the warm, sandy soil and pushed upright. Every part of me protested the movement, and I ached with a ferocity I wouldn’t have thought possible. Sweat broke out anew across my forehead, and my breath hissed past gritted teeth. But I forced my sore knees to lock and made it upright.

Just.

I stood there, wavering, for several seconds. Or maybe it was the landscape around me that was wavering. I couldn’t have said for certain.

Taking another swipe at the sweat and blood dribbling down the side of my face, I resolutely focused my gaze on a lone gum tree and headed toward it.

Luckily for me, the soles of my feet were fairly tough—in fact, I think they were the only bits of me that weren’t aching—and the heated earth, sharp stones, and barbed scrubby bushes didn’t do much to hinder my progress.

It took about an hour to finally reach the shade. The sun seemed to be hotter even though it was clearly late afternoon, but the minute the dappled light of the tree caressed my skin, the relief from the burning was almost instantaneous. I sighed and, for a moment, closed my eyes, fighting the urge to sit down, to rest.

If I sat, I might not get up. It would be easy to die in a place like this.

I don’t intend to kill you, whispered a voice through the fog and the pain clouding my brain. That would be too easy.

I knew that voice, but I couldn’t name it. Couldn’t bring to mind an image of the man who spoke the words. Didn’t know why he would want to put me in such a place, in such danger.

Why would someone want to dump me in the middle of nowhere? I was just …

What was I? Who the hell was I?

I didn’t know. Reach as I might, no information was getting through the fog.

Anger rose, and I swore softly, frustrated by the lack of memories and understanding.

Someone had put me here, that much was obvious. I couldn’t have gotten here any other way, unless I could fly.

The thought made me pause.

Could I fly?

I frowned, uncertain. It seemed right, and yet wrong. Like it was something I could do even if it wasn’t something I was born to, wasn’t something that was a part of my soul.

But what was my soul?

Hunter, hunter, sleek red hunter. The chant ran gently through my subconscious and memories surfaced—me, being chased by a boy with wild red hair and bright gray eyes. A boy who sang the child’s chant moments before he slipped from human to wolf form and pounced.

Wolf.

I was a werewolf.

The relief I felt at that realization was incredible. It flowed through me sweetly, giving me an odd sort of strength. If I could remember that, then I would remember everything else with time.

Besides, a wolf could easily survive in wild places like this. She could find food and water that I, the humanoid, would never spot. She also had a thick red coat to protect her skin from the sun. I needed that protection—

needed it badly.

I closed my eyes and called for the wolf within. But instead of power, what rose was another wash of pain. It was thick and fierce and hit like a punch to the gut, leaving me winded and shaking.

The wolf was there. I could feel her, fierce and angry. But she couldn’t answer. There was some sort of barrier between us, something that was stopping her, and I had no idea what that something was.

I screamed then, and it was a thick and angry sound filled with frustration and pain.

Damn it, what the hell was going on?

How could someone stop the wolf? She was a part of me, part what I was. How could that be stopped?

I hope you enjoy the week you have remaining, that arrogant voice had said. But I very much doubt you will.

Fear surged again, its taste so bitter that I almost gagged. A week. I had a week, if that voice was to be believed. A week to discover who I was, where I was, and what the hell was going on.

It suddenly didn’t seem like a whole lot of time.

I swung my fist savagely, hitting the tree trunk and sending bark flying. Pain rippled up my arm, joining the various other aches that ebbed and flowed across my body. I swore again, this time at my own stupidity, and shook my bloody hand. Hitting the tree wasn’t going to achieve anything.

I glanced up at the sun again. I couldn’t go out in that. My skin was already red and tender, and it felt like I was burning from the outside in, meaning the sunburn had gone fairly deep. Shape-shifting would have solved that problem, but that was—for whatever reason—out the question. I’d have to wait out the heat and travel at night.

Meaning, whether I liked it or not, I was stuck here until sunset. I crossed my legs and plopped down on the sandy soil. After a while, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, trying to rest, trying to ignore the aches and the internal fires and the confusion.

I didn’t succeed.

Time passed slowly, but eventually dusk cast its bloody ribbons across the sky and the heat began to fade. I rose stiffly to my feet and sniffed the air, searching for something, anything, that might give me a direction.

Nothing but crisp, clean emptiness.

I blew out a breath, saw the evening star beginning to twinkle in the sky, and headed that way. It was as good a direction as any.

Dusk continued to blaze across the sky, vivid and beautiful, but eventually gave way to night. The stars came out, dominating the sky, brighter than I could ever remember seeing them. Not that that was saying much, because it wasn’t like I could remember a whole lot.

I kicked up a puff of soil with my toes, watching the dust float away on the breeze. Was I meant to die out here?

That arrogant voice had said he wasn’t going to kill me, but maybe he’d simply meant he wasn’t going to do it himself. Maybe this was his method of revenge—trapping me out here, in the middle of nowhere, with no resources and no one to call on. Not even my wolf.

In the distance, crickets droned. Or maybe they were locusts, because they were certainly making a whole lot more noise.

And they were on the move, getting closer, getting louder.

Too loud, in fact, to be either crickets or locusts. I stopped and frowned up at the sky. Saw the lights—lights that were moving, circling. A plane.

“Hey!” I ran forward, waving my arms frantically. “Hey, I’m here.”

It was night, the landscape was vast, and the chances of their seeing me were next to none, but that didn’t stop me from screaming like a maniac or trying to catch their attention.

Light shot out from the plane, spearing the hill above me. I ran toward it, saw it dart sideways, and dove frantically for that patch of bright salvation. I hit the turf hard, rolled to my knees, and looked up, squinting against the harshness of the light.

“Help!” I screamed again. “I need help!”

For a moment there was no response, then the light flicked off and the plane banked away.

“No!” The word was wrenched from my throat. I punched the ground in frustration, my vision suddenly blurred with tears. Damn it, they couldn’t leave. They couldn’t …

They weren’t.

The plane was descending, not leaving. I scrambled to my feet and ran down the hill toward it.

The plane taxied to a halt and the small rear door opened. A red-haired man scrambled out and ran toward me. That fleeting image of the boy who’d chased me rose again, and something inside me leapt for joy. But as my gaze fell on his face, my steps slowed. That face wasn’t the face I remembered. Wasn’t the face I was expecting.

For a start, it was a whole lot younger.

He didn’t seem to notice my sudden hesitation, just reached me and swept me into a hug that was fierce and strong.

“Jesus, Hanna,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I thought you were dead.”

Hanna. I rolled the name around internally, but for some reason, it didn’t sit right. “Obviously, I’m not.”

He laughed—a rich warm sound—and stepped back, holding me at arm’s length. His bright gray eyes—so familiar, so alien—searched mine. “You look like shit.”

“Not surprising, given that’s how I feel.” I stepped back, away from his touch. “Who the hell are you?”

Surprise rippled across his features. “What do you mean, who the hell am I? Who do you think I am?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be asking the question.” I crossed my arms and stared at him. He was a little taller than me, and broader in the shoulders. His face was rough-hewn but oddly handsome, and his scent said he was a wolf. From the red pack, if his longish hair was anything to go by.

Part of me felt like I should have known him, but the other part, the instinctive part, said he was a stranger.

“Hanna, you know who I am.” He reached for my hand, but I avoided his touch. Surprise ran through his eyes. Surprise and concern. “You really don’t, do you?”

I didn’t bother answering. Just waited.

“For fuck’s sake, what’s happened to you?” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “I’m Evin. Your brother.”

My brother.

No, I thought, staring at him. He wasn’t my brother. Not the brother I wanted, not the brother I was expecting.

God, this was all so damn confusing.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Frustration and hurt rippled through his expression. If he was acting, then he was damn good.

Why would I think he was acting?

I didn’t know. I just didn’t know.

It was becoming somewhat of a theme for me.

“I can’t prove it here, obviously. I didn’t bother collecting our life history when I came looking for you.” But he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open to show me his license. His name was indeed Evin. Evin London. He flipped it closed before I could catch the address, and said, “Happy?”

No, I thought. But simply said, “So, you knew I was out here?”

It came out almost as an accusation, and he raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know for certain. But when we found your car—”

“My car?” I couldn’t remember a car. No surprise there, either.

“Yeah. By the look of it, you’d hit a kangaroo hard enough to roll the car. It’s a total bloody mess. I had to hire another one.”

But I didn’t hit a roo, I’d hit a truck. Or rather, it had hit me.

Or was that just more mixed memories?

“What the hell did you do with your clothes? They weren’t in the car,” he said.

I shrugged, not knowing and not caring. “Where did you find my car?”

“About an hour out of Dunedan. The local cops have already hauled it back into town.”

Which was not helpful, given I had no idea what or where Dunedan was. “And where are we now?”

“About a hundred miles southeast of that point.”

Which was a hell of a long way to walk in the time I’d apparently been missing. “Then how did I get here?”

His gaze ran down my battered body. “Looking at the mess your feet are in, the answer is pretty obvious. And you’ve got a nice sunburn going.”

He peeled off his shirt and handed it to me. His body was well toned, but it wasn’t the body of someone who trained regularly. For some reason, that struck me as odd. I put on his shirt on and did up the buttons. It was long enough to cover my butt, which was probably a good thing if I was going back to civilization. Humans tended to get antsy about nakedness.

“Now, let’s get you to—”

“No hospital,” I interrupted. “I hate hospitals.”

His eyebrows raised even further. “Dunedan hasn’t got a hospital. Can’t you remember anything?”

“No. Not who you are, not who I am, not where I am.” I paused. “Why can’t I shift shape?”

He frowned. “I have no idea. You could before the accident.”

I had a sudden vision of a truck grille and a black car that rolled over and over and over, until it resembled nothing more than mashed metal. Felt the panic and fear rising, until it closed my throat and I was all but gasping for air. But it wasn’t a truck I’d hit. It had been a roo. It had been flesh, not metal, that had caused this damage.

But not the damage to the other car, the black car. God, what had happened …?

Again the thought faded, but the terror remained, thick and agonizing.

“Hanna, snap out of it.” The voice was sharp, filled with concern, briefly sounding so warm and familiar that tears stung my eyes.

I wanted, so wanted, whoever that voice reminded me of, but for all I knew, that person was standing right beside me, grabbing my arm and desperately trying to comfort me. Maybe it was just my memories that were faulty, that were wanting something or someone who might not even be real.

No, no, no, that inner voice whispered. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.

I had to trust that instinct. I certainly couldn’t trust anything or anyone else right now. Maybe not even that man who said he was my brother.

But until I knew more about me—and more about what was going on—I just had to play along. It was either that or return to the emptiness and the heat of the red sands, and that path could lead only to death.

“I’m okay,” I said, taking several deep breaths in an attempt to calm the turmoil still raging inside. “Really, I’m okay.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t sound convinced, and he didn’t let go of my arm. In fact, he looked like he expected me to keel over at any minute. “Why don’t we just get you back home, and I’ll call in the doc to have a look at you.”

He guided me toward the plane, his grip on my arm gentle and firm.

“I thought you said Dunedan didn’t have a hospital.”

“It doesn’t, but it has a doctor. Has to. It’s a tourist town.”

I guess so. I grabbed the guide rail and climbed the steep steps into the plane. There were only two seats in the back. I took the one away from the window and wasn’t entirely sure why I felt safer doing that.

“Nice to see you in one piece, little lady,” the pilot said, handing me a bottle of water. He was a rough-looking man with a bulbous nose and scraggly gray beard. “The laddie here was extremely worried about you.”

I glanced up at the laddie in question and raised an eyebrow. He took the hint and said, “Hanna, this is Frank. He runs the local pub and owns the plane.”

I held out my hand. “Hello, Frank. Thanks for coming out to rescue me.”

He laughed, flashing teeth that were yellow-stained and crooked. His hand wrapped around mine briefly, his grip firm and strong. “Wouldn’t be neighborly to let our newcomers get themselves lost the first few days they hit town, now would it?”

“I guess not.”

I began to sip the water and it was the sweetest thing I’d tasted in a long while. Which wasn’t saying much given the state of my memories.

Evin drew the steps inside the plane then closed the door and sat down in the remaining seat. As the plane’s propellers roared to life, he said, “We arrived in town a day ago. Your accident was reported this morning.”

Which didn’t really explain the state of the various wounds on my body. I might be a wolf, but I was one who apparently couldn’t change, so why were there so many half-healed wounds on my body? The one on my shoulder looked bad, and it surely should have taken more than a day to heal without a shape change. “What was I doing alone in the car in the middle of nowhere?”

And why couldn’t I remember hitting a roo?

He shrugged. “You said you wanted to be alone for a while and went for a drive.”

“An odd thing to do if we’d only just arrived in town, wasn’t it?”

His sudden grin crinkled the corners of his eyes and warmed his bright eyes. “We’d been cooped up together for ten days in that car. We may get on like a house on fire, but ten days is a long time. So no, it wasn’t surprising.”

“Why were we traveling?”

His smile faded. He studied me for several seconds, his expression serious and eyes suddenly sad. “You don’t remember?”

Something caught in my throat, and I had an image of that truck again, and that crumpled black car, rolling over and over. I licked suddenly dry lips and said, “Remember what?”

He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Maybe it’s better if you remember in your own time.”

“Remember what?”

I grabbed his arm, my fingers tightening reflexively. He winced and, for a moment, seemed surprised by my strength. Which struck me as odd, given he was my brother and should have known what I was. What he was.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Jesus, Hanna, I don’t know if it’s the right time—”

“Tell me,” I demanded. “What don’t I remember? Why are we here?”

“He’s dead,” he said abruptly, but with sympathy in his expression. “Your soul mate is dead. Hit by a truck and crushed.”

I stared at him. Just stared at him, as the words rolled around and around in my brain. My soul mate is dead.

Yes, I thought. Yes. The emptiness was there, deep inside. It felt true and right. I closed my eyes, again saw that truck, that black car, and felt the rising pain—a pain so deep it felt like my heart was being torn apart. He was dead. The man who couldn’t be killed was dead.

Tears stung my eyes and suddenly I was sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. Evin took me in his arms and held me tight as the plane roared into the night.

W e landed on an airfield that was little more than a strip of dust beside a ramshackle collection of aging buildings. By that time, I was numb. The tears had stopped and there was nothing left except emptiness and an odd sort of disconnect.

I stared out the window, taking in the scenery. There was little enough to be seen. Not because it was night, but because there was nothing there. No tower, no guide lights, and certainly no terminal. Frank taxied around to one of the few large buildings in the immediate area, then killed the propellers and twisted around to face us. “If you’re feeling like a drink later, lassie, the first one is on me. Sounds as if you could do with one.”

I forced a smile. “Thanks. I just might take you up on that.”

“Do.” He flung open his door and climbed out, quickly disappearing inside the old hangar.

Evin opened the back door and lowered the steps, climbing down before turning around and offering a hand to me.

I paused on the top step and looked around. There were buildings and houses in the distance, their lights twinkling like stars, but I’d been expecting a city and Dunedan obviously wasn’t anywhere near that large. The air itself was rich and clean, and smelled ever so faintly of the ocean.

This place, like the man waiting at the bottom of the steps, was unknown to me.

“You coming?” Evin said.

I placed my hand in his and let him help me down, but he didn’t release me, keeping hold as we walked around the back of the building. An old blue Toyota four-wheel drive was parked at the far end, and it looked as beaten as I felt. Obviously, we couldn’t afford to hire anything better.

Evin opened the passenger door, waited until I climbed in, then slammed it shut and walked around to the driver’s side.

“Why did we come to Dunedan?” I said, as he reversed the car and pointed it in the direction of the buildings.

He glanced at me. “Because you wanted to get away from everything. Friends, family, everything.”

Well, I’d obviously succeeded, because I couldn’t remember anything. And how much more “away” could you get? “But why here?”

He shrugged. “You took a pin and poked it in a map. This was the nearest town to that pin, and here we are.”

“Why did you come with me?”

He smiled. “Because, sister, we do everything together. Besides, Mom would have had a fit if I’d let you come out alone in your condition.”

Mom. It was a word that raised a surprising amount of emotion—and not all of it was good. Yet I couldn’t even picture her face. “What do you mean, my condition?”

He hesitated. “You survived your soul mate’s death, but you were being treated for severe depression. Which was why I was looking for you so frantically. I thought you might have gone off your tablets and tried to kill yourself again.”

I frowned. His words had the ring of truth, and yet, there were lies there, too. Or was I merely seeing problems where there were none? I rubbed my forehead wearily, and wished the aching would stop. I’m sure it would all make so much more sense if it just didn’t hurt so much.

“Meaning I’ve already tried to kill myself?”

He grimaced. “That wound on your shoulder is from a gunshot. You only missed because I managed to grab the gun in time.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire …

And yet, the wound was a gunshot wound. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe it was my internal voice that was lying.

“How did I get hold of a gun?”

He snorted. “We’re licensed security officers, so guns aren’t a problem.”

I didn’t feel like a security officer. I felt like I was something more. Not a cop, but something along those lines. Someone who dealt with life and death on a daily basis.

Which I guess a security officer could do, if we were in the business of guarding people rather than possessions.

I looked out the window, watching the emptiness go by, feeling its echo deep inside. “I can’t remember any of this.”

His gaze swept me again—something I felt rather than saw. “Well, you’ve obviously received several nasty blows to the head, so that’s probably why. Give it time.”

Time. For some reason, that was something that seemed in very short supply.

A week, that voice had said.

What would happen after that?

I didn’t know, and I didn’t intend to hang around long enough to find out. Whatever this was, whatever was going on, I needed to sort it out well before then.

I shifted my focus to the approaching town. It didn’t look huge, but it seemed quite pretty. The main street was about half a mile long, with grand old buildings clustered on either side of the road and the blue of the moonlit ocean visible down at the far end. Cars were angle-parked along the street, and people strolled about casually—

some in beach gear, some not. Trees and wide verandas provided shade from the elements, as did the white umbrellas that sat above the tables in the outside restaurant areas. Hanging pots filled with flowers and creeping vines dangled from the ornate light posts that lined the street, and the nongardener in me wondered how the hell they managed to keep them alive in the heat.

“Where are we staying?”

“Bayview Villas. We have a two-bedroom unit right on the beach.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It is.” He swung into a side street and the buildings gave way to old but pretty houses. We passed several more streets then swung right. The sea suddenly seemed a whole lot closer, the sound of waves crashing against the shoreline sharper.

He swung left, into a driveway, and stopped. The building was white concrete, but had the same wide verandas that the older buildings did. It also had a big blue-and-white sign out the front that said POLICE.

I raised my eyebrows and looked at him. “Why are we here?”

He undid his seat belt and climbed out. “Because I reported your accident and the fact you were missing, and now need to unreport you, before they arrange another search party for tomorrow. You coming?”

I shrugged but climbed out and followed him into the station. The inside reception area was cool and dark. A woman behind the desk glanced up as we entered and gave us both a warm smile.

“Evin,” she said, standing up. She was tall and thinnish in build, with sandy-colored hair and sunburned cheeks.

“You’ve found her.”

Her scent said she was a werewolf, and if the hunger in her eyes was anything to go by, then she was very interested in Evin, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. And that oddly seemed right.

“Yeah,” he said, stopping several feet away from the desk and studying her with an almost amused expression.

“Is Harris about?”

“No, he’s been called out.”

“Well, could you let him know I’ve found her? If he wants me to make a report, then he knows where to find us.”

“I will.” She paused, then added, “Are you going to the pub later on?”

“Sorry, love, I don’t drink. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be there later.” He gave her a wink, then swung me around and headed out.

“You do so drink,” I said, when we were out the door. “Why didn’t you tell her the truth?”

“What, that I’m moon-sworn and unavailable? Why spoil her day?”

Shock rippled through me and I stopped, ripping my arm from his grasp. “When did you go through the moon ceremony?”

Something flitted through his eyes, and I had a vague suspicion he’d just said something he shouldn’t have. But why would he want to keep something like that a secret?

Why was I so damn suspicious of everything?

“You can’t remember anything right now, so is it really surprising you don’t remember the ceremony?” he said awkwardly.

“So I was there?”

“Yeah.” He grabbed my arm again and walked me—quite forcibly—toward the car. “Now, let’s get home, get you cleaned up, and then call the doc.”

Let’s not, I thought, and pulled my arm from his grasp again before stepping back. Damn it, he was my brother. Surely to God I could trust him? But I didn’t, and I didn’t know why, and it was just so frustrating that I wanted to scream. I drew in a breath to try and calm the sudden, angry shaking, and that’s when I smelled it.

Blood.

There was blood on the wind.

A lot of it.

Which could only mean that someone nearby was dead.