Christmas Moon by Sadie Hart Page B

before
she said anything in response, but when she did, her voice came
quiet in the truck, barely louder than the radio. “You didn’t treat
me like someone you wanted to get the hell out of your territory.
You showed me respect and showed me an alpha who cared about his
pack and cared about keeping them in line. You showed me kindness
and concern when instead of chasing down that rogue you came to
make sure I was all right. I think we both learned a lot about each
other that night.”
    Hunter looked at her. “I’d like to learn
more.”
    “Oh. I would too. After we catch this
bastard.”
    The truck picked up speed as it rose over the
hill in front of Bree’s house. It had become automatic to look,
just to make sure all was well, when he spotted something on her
door. He slowed. “Was that there earlier?”
    “What?” Bree leaned forward in her seat. “I
don’t think so.”
    “Let’s make a pit stop.”
    He turned the truck up the slope of her
driveway. It was a piece of paper hanging on her front door. Bree
hopped out and headed for her front door, only to rip the piece of
paper off. She climbed back in the truck and slammed it on the
dash.
    One look at the paper and his blood went
cold.
    An photograph of Rylie tied to a chair, a gag
in her mouth was taped to the paper. Below it in a rough scrawl
was: Want to save her? Wolf’s Peak, 7 PM. Come alone.
    Her jaw was tight as glared down at the
paper. “Should we call the Hounds?”
    He hated to make that offer, because as much
as he trusted Bree, he didn’t trust the others. She pulled out her
phone. “No.”
    “Then who are you—” The words died. She’d
pulled up Google. He recognized what she was searching for. “I know
where Wolf’s Peak is.”
    “How far?”
    He glanced at the clock. “An hour and a
half.”
    It was barely two in the afternoon. They had
time. She jerked her head in a nod. “Get us there early.”
    That he could do. He backed the truck down
the drive and angled it in the direction of the small clip of
mountains to the north. “What are we going to do when we get
there?”
    “Save your wolf and figure out what this one
wants with me.”
    He nodded. In the meantime though, they had a
drive ahead of him. He flipped on the radio and let the Christmas
carols fill the car.
    After a few seconds Bree whispered, “My
daughter loved this song.”
    “You were looking through her pictures last
night.”
    “You were right. I don’t have anything in
that house. Nothing that’s me. Nothing to remember her by.”
    He didn’t remember quite phrasing it that
way, but it was the truth so he didn’t argue. “It’s easier that
way,” he said, mirroring what she’d said the night before.
    “Only if you never want to move on.” She
looked out the window. He could see the rush of snow covered land
whisking by the truck. “I’m tired of trying to disappear. Of
hiding. Didn’t work so well anyway.”
    Someone had found her, and not just Hunter.
He focused back on the road, but not before he reached over and
took her hand in his, giving it a light, reassuring squeeze. “I
don’t think you were meant to hide.”
    She trailed fingers over his knuckles before
clasping his hand between hers. “I guess not. But for awhile it was
too painful to live.”
    “Everyone has that every now and then.
Sometimes you have to pull back, give yourself a break. Then when
you feel strong enough—”
    “I’m not sure I’m strong enough.”
    Hunter shook his head. He knew she was. “That
look you get in your eyes when you’re working a case that tells me
you’re strong enough. It’s pure steel. Raw determination.”
    He admired the hell out of her every time he
glimpsed it in her gaze.
    “Thank you.” She pulled his hand to her lips
and he felt her warm breath across his knuckles a second before she
kissed his skin. “For offering to clean my garage and just...being
insistent enough for me to realize I was tired of talking to empty
walls instead of