Hunter's Moon (2 page)

When he entered, Ellen lifted a department store bag emblazoned with the local costume shop’s logo and set it on his desk, then stepped back with a Cheshire grin. Fuck. He had cats on the brain. Still. Growling, he peeked inside.

“What is this?”

“Your costume.”

He pulled out what he could only describe as gold underwear. “What in hell, Ellen?”

“The Halloween party tonight? Human hunters? Remember?”

He pulled the rest of the things from the bag. The underwear was some kind of loincloth. Sandals and calf guards. Something that looked like it might cross his chest. A red cape. There was no way she could really expect him to wear this!

“And what the hell is this?”

She was still grinning. “I thought it would fun if we all went as Spartans. You know?
300
? Great movie.”

“Yeah.” He got it. “No.”

Ellen tilted her perfect heart-shaped face to one side, long red hair cascading over her shoulder at the movement, and he didn’t feel…anything but brotherly exasperation. Even knowing she wasn’t his, he’d considered her the ideal of feminine beauty for years. Now another face, another body, demanded his regard. He refused to call it obsession, but he knew he was bordering on it.

Ellen set her hand on Clint’s forearm, and moved in front of him, as if blocking him. It set Anthony’s teeth on edge. Made his hackles rise.

“You know,” she started, while caressing her mate. “Maybe seeing you as a Spartan is just the push Gia needs.” She shrugged. “Women are just as susceptible to physical appeal as men.”

He frowned. “Sure they are.”

She shrugged again, and he knew she was changing tactics. “Well, Clint is secure enough to wear it.”

Anthony laughed. “Sure he is.”

“Yeah,” she said with a huff. “He is. I’m going to set dinner out.” She pivoted on her heel and left the room.

He looked up to meet Clint’s gaze. “Tell me you aren’t.”

“If it makes her happy and I go to bed happy?” He smirked and shrugged one shoulder. “Why not?”

Anthony tossed the loincloth onto the table. “No fucking way.”

“Whatever you say, Tony,” Clint said turning to follow Ellen as the desk phone rang. He glanced at the caller id, determined to ignore it, but snatched it up when he saw Gia’s name and number.

“What’s wrong?” he barked, not even trying to temper his tone. She never called him unless there was a serious problem.

“You are
not
going to believe who is here,” she answered in a harsh whisper.

He suspected he knew before he asked. “Who?”

“That lion!”

There was a long pause, and he wondered if there was a reason she thought this should be a private conversation. His wolf nature went on high alert. “Are you okay? Do you need me?”

She blew out a long breath and he could imagine her blowing the hair from her forehead and rolling her eyes. He smiled. “I’m fine. But I have no idea why the fuck he’s here. I don’t like it, and Julian won’t talk.” She paused and practically growled before going on. “I don’t like this cat.”

Anthony preened. She didn’t like the cat, because whether she wanted to admit it or not, a part of her knew that Anthony was her mate. And finally, finally, she’d come to him outside of an assignment for help. He knew better than to let her hear his satisfaction though. He picked up the damned costume. Fingered the soft fabric. Maybe Ellen was right. Maybe it was time to really go on the offensive instead of just trying to insert himself into her life and wait for her to take the next step.

“I’ll be there soon.”

“What? Why?”

“Party? Tonight?” He kept his tone light. He didn’t know Gia’s history, but he’d watched her keep herself closed off from everyone long enough to guess it was ugly. He intended to change that.

“Oh yeah.” She sounded almost confused, like she’d never been to a party, but she signed off before he could ask her what she was going as. He hoped it was something sexy and grinned at the image of her in a French maid’s outfit. He wasn’t that fucking lucky. She’d probably go as an Amazon. Or Xena, Warrior Princess. That would be pretty damned hot too, come to think of it.

He loaded the costume back into the bag and followed the others into the dining room. Ellen had ordered in Italian and he helped himself to a huge plate of lasagna. One of his favorites. She ate silently at the other end of the table. Probably waiting for him to announce he was giving into her suggestion. When he met her gaze, her expression was so expectant he nearly laughed.

“Fine. If Clint goes all macho and Spartan, I guess I will too.”

When he saw the look on Clint’s face, he realized the other werewolf had made the same deal with her. They’d both walked right into her trap. He did chuckle then, and shook his head.

“That wasn’t nice, Ellen.”

She smirked. “Worked though.”

“You could have just told me,” he said to Clint.

“I didn’t think you’d ever agree to it,” Clint said with disgust in his voice. “Too late now.”

Anthony shrugged, already resigned. Since all three of them lived in the mansion that served as Hunter headquarters, he preferred to not rile Ellen up. She wouldn’t do it on purpose, but if she was displeased with any of them,
all
of them would know it. Thank God, Clint had finally claimed her. Anthony had hated to watch her sadness grow with each year that Clint had let pass. And that idea just firmed his resolve to more actively pursue Gia.

He finished his dinner and after rinsing the plate and putting it in the dishwasher, took the bag upstairs to his room. He dumped the contents on the bed and stripped before he changed his mind. He pulled the outfit on. First the loincloth, then the gold metal plates that strapped behind his knees and calves, and finally the cape whose black straps crisscrossed his chest. There was a sharp rap on the door that he recognized as Clint’s, and he reluctantly turned to face the mirror while calling out.

“Come in.” Fuck. He couldn’t do this. He looked ridiculous. He felt ridiculous. Hands on his hips, he faced Ellen who’d ducked in under Clint’s arm. He was wearing the same get-up. She whistled. “There’s no way I’m leaving the house in this.”

Her grin was accompanied by an appreciative gleam in her eyes as she looked him up and down. “Oh, yes you are. You made a deal.”

She leaned back against Clint and her costume finally registered. There was no way Clint was letting
her
leave the house like that. She’d curled her hair and piled most of it on top of her head, but some fell loose down the back. The look accented her bare neck, the thin straps of the gown over her shoulders, the deep V cut all the way to her waist.

“You ready to go?” she asked.

He snorted. Yeah right.

“As soon as everyone gets dressed.”

But when he met Clint’s gaze, he realized she was serious. “Sorry, man. Neither one of us is winning this one.”

Ellen was still smiling, eyes shining, when she turned and kissed Clint then stepped around him to leave. “Just let me grab my bag. I’ll meet y’all downstairs.”

“I can’t believe you’re letting her leave the house in that,” he said to Clint who’d taken a step towards the door to follow her. He turned around to meet Anthony’s gaze and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’ve known her almost as long as I have. You gonna tell her no?”

He had a point. The woman was stubborn. And hell, he might look at her as a little sister, but when it came right down to it, she wasn’t his woman. Wasn’t his to watch over anymore either.

“Besides, she’s been looking forward to this for weeks. When was the last time you saw her that happy?”

A few months ago when you finally claimed her
, but he kept the thought to himself. Clint was still learning how to live as part of a unit after years of trying to cut himself off from everyone who cared about him.

“Come on!” Ellen called impatiently from downstairs and he had to laugh as he buckled the sandals on and followed them out.

Chapter Three

Gia gripped the stem of the wineglass so hard she couldn’t believe it didn’t snap. Where the hell was Anthony? And why the hell was she expecting him to come rescue her from this social disaster? She’d never felt so exposed.

It was her own damned fault for picking out this costume. She should have come as a nun, but no. She had to lose her damned mind and decide to turn that damned wolf’s taunting back at him. Let him drool over her for once. It better fucking work. Nothing else would make this nightmare worth it. Hell, if the black vinyl corset and short as hell skirt didn’t do the trick, nothing would.

Speaking of male attention, Carlos, the werelion, said something but her mind was a million miles away and she didn’t catch it. She murmured assent and smiled, which seemed to please him so she assumed it was the right response and went back to cussing out Anthony in her mind.

She’d tried this afternoon—again—to talk Julian into assigning her to work with someone else. And again, he’d refused. He kept insisting she had to learn to work with people she didn’t like. He totally didn’t get it.

She liked Anthony all right. Way too much. And he seemed to live to torment her. She wondered what would happen if she took him up on one of his many insinuated offers. Hell, she knew the answer to that one. Several weeks ago, after a very bad day, she’d finally responded to one of those offers.
Sure, Anthony. Take me to bed.
And what had he done? Laugh it off as a joke. Okay, yeah, she’d been pretty flip when she said it, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t serious damn it.

He’d actually backed off for a few days, and she’d finally realized it was just a working relationship. He wasn’t serious about getting into her pants. She was so damned horny she was probably even reading innuendo where none was intended. God, what a depressing thought. Had she been celibate so long she’d forgotten what male interest really looked like?

She glanced around the room and caught Declan, one of the werewolf Hunters, checking her out. Okay. Maybe not. She must have frowned because Declan arched a questioning eyebrow and Carlos asked if she was okay. She forced a smile for both of them and drank the last of her wine.

“I’m fine,” she said, standing up. The vinyl of the tight black corset squeaked with her movement, and she tugged on the matching short skirt. Carlos smiled appreciatively as he looked her up and down once more.

“Sure I can’t get you to run away with me, honey?”

This time her grin was real. Her instinct had been to mistrust him. But he was open and friendly and much too charmingly persistent. “Sorry. But no.”

“Ah, well. I’ll just pine away alone, I suppose.” He looked up when the door opened. “And now I suppose your wolf will be stealing you away.”

“He’s not my wolf,” she snapped. Damn him.

Carlos stood and lifted her hand, turning it over to press a kiss on to her palm. “Oh, I’m afraid you’re mistaken about that, darlin’. Here he comes.”

With a two-fingered salute, he turned and strode across the room to where the bar was set up. She turned to see if Anthony had, in fact, showed up. Now that Carlos had decided to leave her in peace, of course he would arrive. When she saw him moving through the crowd, she caught her breath.

Good God. Was he supposed to be Leonidas? He certainly looked like a Greek warrior king. She’d seen him naked several times when they were working and he was between shifts. It was always a struggle to control her reaction then. Leave it up to him so show up at a party half, well mostly, naked. It was like he was tormenting her on purpose.

Oh, but he was nice to look at. Not an ounce of fat. Thick, defined muscles. She had dreams about those arms, picking her up, bracing her back against a wall as her legs came up to wrap around his waist. They always ended before she got to feel him inside her. Always ended before she got any satisfaction.

He was talking to one of his Hunters, his body angled slightly away from her, and she sighed when he turned enough to give her a better look at his profile. Like he sensed her there watching him, he turned his head right to her, caught and held her gaze a moment before going back to his conversation. Like she was just another stranger in a roomful of strangers.

It was like a punch to the stomach. Her heart started to pound, and she looked around for Julian. She had to get out of there before it got worse. God, she hadn’t had a panic attack in years. They couldn’t start again now. She took a deep breath, counted slowly till her heart slowed, and finally located Julian behind the bar. She made her way through the crowd, thankful the lingerers scattered when she arrived.

She almost sent them a mean smile. None of them would ever believe she was less than the tough as nails hard ass she portrayed. She’d learned all her hard life lessons at sixteen when a rogue destroyed her world, and accordingly, had wrapped her heart in ice. But she’d paid a steep price for protecting herself. Julian was the only person in the world she was close to, and he made lousy girlfriend material. She scowled. Not that she was admitting for one minute that kind of friendship was missing from her life.