Full Moon Hike by Julie Steimle (best 7 inch ereader TXT) 📖

“Because he is a member of the Holy Seven? Even though there can’t be an eight in seven, right?”

That man stared at me, quite dumbfounded. He nodded. “And my brother said you don’t care to hunt the Seven—yet.”

Disgusted, I said, “Of course not. I told you, I’m not a monster. And neither is Rick.”

It was his turn to look disgusted. “He is a werewolf.”

“That the Holy Seven also let live,” I finished, folding my arms and with a firm nod.

The hunter froze, his eyes widening with what I could tell was disbelief.

“That’s right,” I said. “They’re friends with the Holy Seven. Rick’s best friend is some guy called Red. In fact, they’re such friends that Mr. Deacon was worried that I would do them harm. He even called them yesterday to find out if Michael Toms really did meet me.”

I could hear Gregor McDillan’s heart jump again as his eyes grew even wider. “You know about Michael Toms?”

“I said I met him,” I said. Stepping back towards the doorway, I added, “I think you had better give up this hunt and go home.”

His expression changed only slightly, turning to a flutter of worry. His imp shouted at him to kill me anyway, calling me a liar.

“I’m not a liar,” I said to counter it.

That McDillan twitched, blinking at me to ask how I knew what had passed through his mind.

Deciding to remain mysterious rather than explain it, I added, “And if you try to kill Rick or me, I will fight you until…until….”

“Until death?” He took a step towards me.

“I’m not afraid of death,” I said, though in reality I was. I just wasn’t afraid of him. I knew I was more than a match for that hunter, especially if I let that wave of urges take over. But I wouldn’t let it. I was not a killer. However, I said, to him, “And I don’t want to have to make this kitchen a bloody mess.”

He set his hand on his knife again, grinding his teeth together. “Are you threatening me?”

“You’re already threatened by me,” I said. “A wise hunter of your experience ought to know when he is outmatched.”

But he snorted, slowly lifting the knife from his sheath as if he thought I could not see it. “But even a hunter can take down the king of beasts.” 

Honestly, he really was a dope. Any slight movement draws my attention. It was an imp tendency that has been rather annoying actually. Focusing in school with all the stuff going on really has been a trial. When I was a kid they said it was ADHD, but my mom never believed it. I was glad she hadn’t believed it. Otherwise I think I would have been on Ritalin to the end of time. Blinking at him, I went invisible again. “I’m not a lion. I’m a dragon.”

Right away he whipped his knife out and cursed.

The stupid battle between us started again. Once more I slipped to the side and hopped on to the tabletop, walking over it to go behind him. Sure he hadn’t heard me, as my weight was just as immaterial as I was, I then said, “What did Mr. McDillan say to you anyway?”

He spun around to face me, but I had already flapped and landed on the kitchen counter once more, walking tiptoe along the edge to avoid him.

“That’s none of your business!”

I glanced out at the window above the sink, noticing that the bodyguards were searching the grounds still. One walked by the window, giving me the best idea ever. I rapped on the glass with my knuckles then jumped up with a flap in case that McDillan tried to stab me.

Both the hunter and the bodyguard turned to look. They saw each other.

Cursing again, the hunter ducked straight down then dived to get out of the room. He first ran to the side door to the kitchen, but already one of the guards was there, opening it to get at him. Ramming it closed, Mc Dillan tried to lock it. However, the guard had a key and opened it up again. I let myself fall to the ground and watched this struggle where the hunter tried to hold the lock closed and the bodyguard still worked to open it. The bodyguard then rapped on the glass with his gun barrel, hinting that he’d use it.

Panicking, the hunter searched for another way out. I was about to stop him, but he saw what I saw at the same time, a set of ironwork stairs that spiraled up to the second floor and possibly a third floor. He darted to it, letting go of the lock with a scramble to get away from the bodyguard who unlocked the door once more, charging in with his gun raised. Immediately I thought of Rick who was hiding up there. I pushed off the ground with a flap, pressed my somewhat immaterial self through the ceiling, and I rose up out of the floor.

Landing softly on the rug set on the wood, I listened for Rick and the hunter. Nothing of Rick. I assumed that during my fight he slipped out of the house through a window, or perhaps his father had built in some kind of escape passage just in case. I believed that Mr. Deacon had that kind of forethought. There certainly were enough rooms and closets to fill three houses that one escape route could be hidden in it.

I then heard a boom of a door slamming open against a wall. The hunter scrambled straight down the hall, charging at me. I had forgotten that he could not see me for just a second, but when I saw the bodyguard plowing right after him I knew he wasn’t after me. I flattened myself against the wall to get out of their way, watching them both pass by. Soon as they rounded the corner to the stairs I exhaled with relief and followed behind just to make sure the hunter didn’t come across Rick.

But since I was upstairs, I sought out Rick’s room and tried the doorknob. It was locked. It didn’t seem very smart for him to just hide in his bedroom, so I checked to see if that were actually the case. Going immaterial, I stuck my head through to look for him, listening for a panicked heartbeat. There was none. Satisfied that Rick locked the door for a diversion, I pulled my head back out, and I turned to go back down the stairs.

“No! No! No! Let me go! Don’t you understand! They’re werewolves! Monsters!”

I halted on the fifth step from the bottom, peering at Gregor McDillan and the two bodyguards who had both wrestled him to the ground.

“Keep quiet.”

“I’m telling you!” The hunter strained to get up, but Mr. Deacon really did hire two muscular professionals talented at their job. I was impressed. Gregor belted out, “I’m a licensed member of the SRA!”

“We don’t care.” One of the bodyguards cuffed the hunter’s wrists together as the other cocked his gun to shoot him if he had to.

 “Don’t you understand?” Gregor McDillan kicked out when they lifted him to his feet. He snapped at them with his teeth as he struggled. “I have full legal permission to hunt here! Signed by the president of the United States himself!”

I materialized then walked the rest of the way down the stairs. “The president personally signed your license?”

All of them stared at me. The guards were especially surprised to see me in the house.

However, Gregor snapped back, “Yes! The SRA is a registered government organization, sanctioned by the president, so what you are doing is obstruction of justice!”

“Justice?” I made a face. “You broke into someone’s house and tried to kill him. How is that justice?”

The bodyguards chuckled then nodded at me, hauling the hunter to the front door, perhaps to chuck him out, or more likely to take him to the ranger’s station to be locked up so they could contact the authorities. Unfortunately, if the SRA really were a legal monster hunting organization sanctioned by the president, there was no way in the world that man would stay locked up. He would be hunting the Deacons again by the next full moon.

Gregor McDillan seemed to be thinking the same thing as the bodyguards dragged him outdoors. “Do you intend to protect those werewolves each and every full moon, demon?”

I lifted up my chest knowing that he knew that I could not. But then I tilted my head and smiled, thinking of ways I could at least try to delay the next hunt. The first and foremost I had already thought of, and I nodded to the imps flying around the heads of the bodyguards and the hunter with a wicked grin. I said to them, “Get me his wallet.”

“Why?” The imps chimed in, though the guards blinked at me wondering if I was talking to them.

Giving the imps a nod, my eyes focused over the heads the men. “Because, we are going to have some fun with it.”

The imps gleefully dived to Gregor’s pocket and tore out his wallet. He shouted as he saw it fly up into the air, though the bodyguards just stared at it. I was grinning.

“What are you doing?” the hunter shouted at me.

“Take out all his cards and licenses,” I said to the imps.

Flinging the wallet open, they scattered all the cards, his driver’s license, and the SRA card. There were other documents among them, each of which I read as they fell down. I caught one. It was a library card. I also found a club card for a private golf course and one for a shooting range. I snickered and dropped them on the ground.

“That’s stealing!” he shouted at me, even as the bodyguards brought him to the gates.

With a shrug, I said, “I didn’t take it. I never even touched your wallet.”

His face bunched up, knowing that somehow I did have him there. What could he say in court anyway? That I told little devils to do it? Knowing he couldn’t do anything about it, I told the imps to toss all his important cards into someone’s fire. To the men it looked as if the cards flew up into the air like leaves and gusted away to some far off place. I could see the two bodyguards nod. I had solved their problem quite neatly.

“The SRA has me on record,” that McDillan said as the guards hauled him through the gate. “I’ll just have them print out another! You can’t stop me from coming back!”

I followed the guards as they dragged the hunter out to where the other imps were done with their spray painting chaos. Spray cans were scattered all over the ground. The imps fluttered over them with satisfied grins from their feast of mischief, the sheets sprawled this way and that, covering the punks they had terrified. Most of the punks were still looking around for what haunted them.

“You wanna bet?” I stomped after him, retracting my wings into my back so that I was less conspicuous. “I can email Michael Toms, first off. He’ll contact the Seven… though I think Mr. Deacon would probably do that on his own if I told him I knew who you were and who your affiliates are.”

He spat at me. “The Seven don’t interfere in the SRA’s work. They’re not members!”

I halted. I hadn’t really thought of it. However, I just narrowed my eyes and said, “Really? Then why do you defer to them?”

Stiffening, Gregor McDillan said, “I don’t have to answer that.”

Making a face at him, I huffed. “You’re impossible.”

Tossing up my hands, I then glanced at the stricken college students who were now gaping up at me, seeking some help. However, taking in my pale figure and glowing orange eyes in the moonlight, they ducked back down to pretend they hadn’t seen me at all. At that moment a thought occurred to me. I halted.