Free The Hunter's Moon (The Secret Warrior Series) by Beth Trissel Page B

barely visible through the leaves, the smoke from the chimney rising above the trees, then returned his focus to her. “But the kids and teens like us are cool with it. None attend public school and are taught by the clan. Some take online classes. We do as little as possible to draw attention to ourselves.”
    She nodded. “Do you have cell phones?”
    “Burners.”
    “Disposable phones? Sweet. Can I have one?”
    He eyed her doubtfully. “The one rule we dare not break, on pain of banishment, apart from unauthorized attacks on humans, is to avoid all social media and no email. As long as we obey, the elders tolerate our electronic devices.”
    Arching on her toes, she pleaded with him. “I can do that. I’ve kept a low profile since entering witness protection. Haven’t I, Jimmy?”
    “Yep. E.T. never phoned home.”
    A smile flickered at Jackson’s mouth. “You must prove yourself first. Another thing. No one from the outside can ever know of Okema’s existence. How do you register a guy his age for a driver’s license, personal I.D., or anything?”
    “You don’t,” she agreed.
    The wind ruffled Jackson’s hair where it had pulled loose from his ponytail. “None of us are exactly normal . We don’t want anyone nosing around, especially government officials with their rules and regulations.”
    “What if they do?”
    Looking like a model for outdoor life, Jackson shifted from one all-terrain boot to the other. “Okema put a shield around the lodge that makes it invisible to people, but as his power wanes we’re more vulnerable to human interference, the Panteras, other werewolves—”
    Morgan started. “Wait. There are others?”
    Jackson and Hawthorne exchanged glances, then Jackson spoke. “Werewolves reach back to the dawn of man. There are those, like us, capable of nobility. Others are every bit the monsters you imagine.”
    Uneasiness stirred in her. “Are any besides your clan in these mountains now?”
    A shadow crossed his expression. “Not near enough to scent, but we’ve heard rumors some are scouting for territory.”
    She swallowed hard. “The bad sort?”
    “Bad enough to keep us on our guard.”
    “No wonder the lodge is built like a fortress.”
    “Exactly. Occasionally someone, or something, breaks through our defenses.”
    Apprehension knotted her gut. “And?”
    “Several Panteras, a really bad werewolf, and an overly snoopy government agent are buried out back.”
    “Jeez Louise,” Jimmy said under his breath. “Did they send more agents?”
    “No. The F.B.I. concluded his disappearance is gang-related. Okema took care of him. Of them all. And upped the shield around the lodge, but it can only withstand so much.” Jackson laid a hand on Morgan’s shoulder and gazed into her eyes. “When the heat overtakes you during your change, strive to remember who your friends are. Fight for your pack, which now includes us. We need each other.”
    Heat was already overtaking her from being this close to him. “I’ll try my darndest. I swear it by all that’s sacred.”
    “Good. Your strength of will and the herbs Grandma Miriam gives you are the best way to achieve control over the wolf. Meanwhile…” He glanced from Morgan to her bow. “Your human self isn’t gonna be our next great archer. That hope lies with Jimmy. Is there any other weapon you might master? And don’t say guns. They’re too loud.”
    “I wasn’t.”
    “She likes to whack things,” Jimmy offered.
    Jackson arched his brows. “Really?”
    “Want a whip?” Hawthorne chuckled.
    “She can flick a fly with the end of a towel.” Jimmy further mortified her by imitating the wrist action.
    The chilly air alone didn’t account for her reddening cheeks. “Jimmy. They don’t care about my fly zapping ability.”
    “Sure we do.” Jackson eyed his cousin. “Don’t we?”
    “Heck, yeah.” Hawthorn nodded. Neither cracked a smile.
    “Seriously, Jackson?”
    He crossed his chest. “You could