Hunting Season

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The air felt green. Owen tipped his head back and howled in joy and abandon into the moon-bright night. The ground was soft under his paws, some of the mud squishing up between his toe pads. He loved it, loved the connection to the earth and to his primal self. Running like this was a freedom he'd never imagined before the change.

Now he couldn't imagine a life without it.

A chorus of howls answered his cry and wind whooshed behind him as one of his team chased after him. Owen glimpsed brown fur, but it was the scent that gave the wolf away. Andre bumped him and nipped at his fur before taking off running. Owen chased. They were safe in these woods. Gibson owned the property and they had miles to run and run and run through dense forest and forgotten paths.

Forgotten to humans, at least.

But in the beautiful chorus of howls, they were missing two. Rowe and Vega were out on a job and were probably running by themselves somewhere that could never live up to these grounds.

Owen let out a little whine at the thought. He wanted his family together. They may not have shared blood, but a dark night had bound them together years ago, and he was determined to build something with the men and women who shifted and ran with him.

Who else could understand how weird it was to be a werewolf?

He'd only been one for two years and he still didn't understand most of it. None of them did. But sometimes the urge to shift overcame them all and they ended up running through the night like the wild beasts that lived inside of them. It wasn't connected to the full moon, that much they had tested. But there weren't exactly guidebooks they could follow.

Andre let out a frustrated bark and Owen shook himself. Those were human thoughts for human time. He let them fall away and surrendered to his wolf. The scents grew more intense and he knew a hare was just out of reach, full of juicy blood and the spirit of the run.

He and Andre ran together and it wasn't too long before Hunter, Jackson, and Gibson joined them. One hare would never satisfy five wolves. But hare wasn't the only prey in these woods.

Gibson took the lead. The major had a way of doing that, and they all unconsciously followed. In this form they didn't talk, their communication relegated to looks and chuffs and barks. It didn't take much to get them into formation. They'd done this before.

Hare forgotten, they latched onto the scent of a stag and chased.

Owen's muscles ached but he forgot about it in the euphoria of the hunt. This was what his body was meant to do and he never wanted to stop.

And then it happened. The stag appeared.

The hunt was on.

He no longer paid attention to the feel of the ground beneath his paws or the scent of the trees in the air. His entire being was focused on the stag and the hearty meal they were bound to have. When Owen woke up with two legs he knew he might have a weird taste in his mouth, but he didn't care. He didn't worry about the future in this form.

It was going perfectly. They were a unit born to hunt together.

Andre ran ahead to flush the stag along the right path while the rest of them bounded after it, ready to pounce once it stumbled.

Only something went wrong. The deer was supposed to keep heading along the path. The trees would close in and become too dense for it to go any further. Then it would be theirs.

It didn't.

The stag took a turn toward the east and in a matter of seconds made it to the county road that abutted the property. The wolves had to skid to a stop before they left the tree line. They couldn't risk getting spotted by a regular human. If they were lucky, they might be mistaken for coyotes. But they weren't going to rely on luck.

Owen and the others were disappointed. It was hard not to be when a juicy stag had bounded from their grasp. But the night wasn't ruined. Not by a long shot. They ran and chased and played until exhaustion got the better of them. Some nights, they ended up in a pile of sleeping fur and slept under the stars. Not tonight.

Gibson gave the call and they all headed back towards the cabin.

Before he went in through the basement door, Owen shifted back to human. The others followed shortly behind him. His shift was faster than theirs, but not by much, and thankfully it wasn't too painful for any of them. It felt like stretching his muscles just past the point of comfort and holding it there for several seconds. Not exactly pleasant, but worth the cost.

And once he stood up, n***d in the pale moonlight, his senses felt muffled by cotton. He could barely smell anything and the sounds all meshed together. But colors quickly became clearer as his senses adjusted back to human. That was the most jarring part of the whole change.

He opened the door and headed inside, picking up his bathrobe that was lying on the floor where he'd left it before the run. Everyone else did the same. They were quiet. They always were when they became human again, as if it took a while to remember how their vocal cords worked and what words went in which order.

Then Owen's stomach grumbled.

"Fuckin' Chip," Erin Jackson groused. She tied her own robe tight and slicked her blonde hair back into a ponytail with a tie that seemed to materialize from nowhere. He didn't know how she got her hair slicked so perfectly and he wasn't about to ask. Jackson had a way of frowning that made him sure he was about to get hit.

"Chip's hungry, major," Andre Gordon told Gibson, as if the major couldn't hear Owen's stomach.

Owen kept quiet and clamped a hand over his stomach as if that would do something to quiet it down. Then his stomach growled again and he couldn't hold in his laugh. "What can I say? I wanted venison!"

Gibson rolled his eyes. "Too f*****g chipper is right. Hunter, go up and order a few pizzas. The usual place should still be open." It was getting close to midnight, but they were on the edge of a college town and plenty of places were open until the wee hours.

Willa Hunter had managed to pull actual clothes on while the others were teasing him. She gave the major a nod before hurrying up the stairs without a word. Owen tried to wave, but she was already out of sight. Oh well. At least she knew the pizza order.

Owen went to find his clothes before anyone else could rib him for his grumbling tummy. He checked his phone and wasn't surprised to see no new messages. He'd called his mother earlier in the day so she had no reason to call, and if something had gone wrong with Vega or Rowe they would have called Gibson or Gordon. Owen wasn't anyone's first call.

The cabin was big enough that he and the others weren't stepping all over each other to store their clothes or move around. Since it was already past midnight, they'd probably be staying the night. It was more than an hour's drive back into the city, and it wouldn't be the first night they'd all slept over. Owen suspected that Gibson came from money, but he'd never asked. He was pretty sure the major could still majorly f**k with his life even though they'd all been retired from the army for two years. He wasn't about to test the man.

The cabin had two large bedrooms in the basement and another two upstairs. The major took the master; no one questioned it. Hunter and Jackson both managed to snag their own rooms, which left Owen and Andre to share. He didn't mind. It wasn't like Andre snored.

Owen considered taking a quick shower, but his skin felt all fresh and new from the shift so there was no need. Some of the tiredness from running around on all fours all night was starting to catch up to him, and he wanted to crawl into his bed, but Gibson would want a check in.

And Owen wanted pizza.

He went upstairs and found everyone dressed and sitting around the large kitchen island, devouring the first of four pepperoni and mushroom pizzas. Owen cracked into the next pizza and took four pieces. That was another thing about being a werewolf. They had to eat all the time. Their bodies devoured calories like it was going out of style. And Owen ate the first slices so fast that he barely tasted them.

"Any update on the Bradley job?" Jackson asked. She took dainty bites of her pizza and dabbed at her lips with a napkin to wipe away the grease after every bite.

Gibson nodded to the cell phone sitting beside his plate. "Rowe texted. Job's wrapping up. They'll be home in a couple of days."

Some of the tension—tension Owen hadn't quite realized he was feeling—leeched out of the unit. It was good to know they'd all be together again. "Any issues?" he asked, mouth full of pizza.

Gibson glared at him and Owen grinned wider. "All was well. The ex did not show up to the wedding and the happy couple are on their way to Aruba."

The news wasn't exactly momentous and no one cheered. "Anything more interesting that babysitting a couple of brides come up?" asked Andre. He was slouched in the corner and somehow managed to be half cloaked in shadow despite the brightly lit kitchen. There was just a hint of menace in his voice and Owen wanted to roll his eyes. The guy was all drama and needed to learn to chill. They'd just gone for a run. They had pizza. What was there to complain about?

Two years before, after they'd been unceremoniously dumped out of the army in an attempt to keep what had happened to them hush hush, Gibson had gathered them all together with an idea: protection. They could provide it to those in need all while figuring out what it meant to be impossible creatures in an ordinary world. Their bodyguarding outfit had gotten off the ground eighteen months ago, but they were still making a name for themselves. That involved taking small jobs and networking. Owen didn't mind it. He was pretty sure that Andre would rather jump off a building than make nice with potential clients.

"You'll be the first to know," Gibson promised, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Andre glared from his dark corner.

Just as Gibson was ready to stuff another piece of pizza in his mouth, his phone rang. He looked at the screen for a moment, eyes narrowed, then put the pizza down, picked up the phone, and walked outside.

He shot Andre a look and then glanced at Jackson and Hunter, then they all looked out at Gibson. He was standing on the balcony and had closed the sliding glass door. Owen wished being a werewolf had given him super hearing. His research—if watching Teen Wolf counted as research—had suggested he should be able to do a lot more than he could. He was a bit stronger, a bit faster, his senses were a bit more acute, but nothing inhuman. Nothing that would allow any of them to actually hear what the major was saying.

"He's being secretive," Hunter muttered.

Owen had to bite his lip from saying something. Hunter wouldn't even tell them her birthday or hometown. "The major's allowed to have a private call."

"No, that was weird," Jackson agreed. She glanced at each of their plates as if counting the number of pieces they'd had and then reached for the next pizza box.

The four of them stared at Gibson through the glass as they chomped on their pizza. Only once he hung up the phone did they swing around to pretend they hadn't been shamelessly snooping.

"You're all very subtle," Gibson said once he slid the door shut. "Myers, with me." He nodded down the hallway towards his bedroom.

Owen had the strangest sense of being called to the principal's office. He had to remind himself he wasn't in school or the army anymore and no one could hurt him.

Yeah, right. The major could make his life hell if he wanted. Owen tried to think if he'd done anything wrong in the past week or so, but nothing came to mind. And then he reminded himself that he was thirty-two goddamn years old and he didn't need to be afraid of Gibson.

He entered Gibson's bedroom and closed the door behind him. They were far enough away from the others not to be overheard as long as they spoke quietly, and this bedroom doubled as Gibson's office when he was at the cabin, so it wasn't strange to have a discussion here.

"What's up?" Owen asked. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms loosely.

Gibson sat at the small desk he had set up and opened the lid to his laptop. "That was a friend of mine from college. His sister might be in trouble and he wants a guard on her for the next week while his family takes care of it."

"Takes care of it? Is he the mob?" They didn't have a strict moral code about who they would work for, but Owen figured there had to be a line somewhere.

Gibson huffed out a little laugh. "Worse. Money. Big money. You ever hear of the Selbys?"

"Can't say that I have." Owen knew his famous rich people, but not the sneaky ones who stayed out of the limelight.

"The Selby Group has its fingers in every pie. Old money. The daughter isn't involved, but this is the second attempted k********g of her in three years."

"k********g? That's a bit more than trouble." Owen had expected to hear about another babysitting gig. Heiresses were needy like that.

"AR sounds sure the private family security could handle it, but he wanted an outsider to watch his sister. Apparently she's not a fan of family security and he thought this would work better. I'm sending you."

"Just me?" Owen didn't mind flying solo, but that wasn’t how missions worked. He couldn't cover 24/7, enhanced werewolf senses or not. He had to sleep sometime.

"To begin with, yes. He wants to convince her to accept a team, but he's going to ease her into it. There will be support monitoring from a distance, but you'll be her only point of contact."

"Our support or their support?" Owen didn't like the idea of going in alone, and he really didn't like the idea of strange backup. But he went where the major ordered.

"Theirs." Gibson didn't sound too happy about it either.

Owen couldn't see the point in arguing; Gibson wanted him for the job so he would do it. "When do I start?"

Gibson turned back to his computer and typed a few things. A moment later, Owen's phone chimed. "Show up bright and early tomorrow. I've sent you the details."

"Guess I'm heading back to the city tonight." He stood. "Anything else?"

Gibson leveled a glare at him. "Don't f**k this up."

"Yes, sir."