All Hallows' Moon by Reine SM

Author:Reine, SM [Reine, SM]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Red Iris Books
Published: 2011-09-05T04:00:00+00:00

By the time dawn stretched over the horizon, Eleanor hadn’t gotten to kill anything.

She hadn’t so much as glimpsed the werewolf since it jumped the fence. She found signs of it, yes—broken trees, paw prints twice the breadth of human feet, and even a rabbit with a snapped neck. But no matter how fast she moved, she couldn’t catch up with the beast.

The only mercy was that her chase had led them away from civilization. The blood smears she found were stuck with rabbit fur, not human hair.

“Still not a good sign, is it, honey?” she asked the clouds. She imagined Jim, her dead husband, watching the hunt from Heaven. She was never sure if it was a happy thought. He had been a hard man to satisfy. None of her kills were as good as his, and he was always happy to tell her that she could never replicate his techniques with any skill.

She wondered what he would think of the werewolf escaping her. Eleanor was sure he would have gotten it already.

Her search led her in a loop around the hills and back to the mine. It was unlikely that the wolf would have gone back to the place it turned once its den had been compromised, so she shouldered her rifle before hopping the fence.

Eleanor shone a flashlight around the cement as she went down the stairs in the mine. She didn’t care about the heavy machinery left behind by the corporation that owned it, even though the parts might have been valuable. She focused on the ground. A werewolf’s claws weren’t sharp enough to score concrete when it walked, but there was always blood where they transformed.

When she found the first smears of crimson, she tracked them back to an empty room with a heavy door that had been ripped from its hinges.

A lantern was tipped on its side in the corner. Eleanor righted it, frowning at the broken bulb and the scuffed casing. She had a similar lantern at home, but that didn’t seem too odd. Anybody could buy them at a corner store.

A glimmer of something lighter than the rest of the floor caught her eye, and she knelt to get a closer look.

Hair. Human hair.

They were like long, silvery strands of moonlight, and they made Eleanor’s heart race as she turned them over in her fingers.

Long hair probably meant a woman. A blond woman.

“Now what do you think of that, Jim?” she asked. He probably would have laughed and gone to sharpen his knives. He liked to skin the werewolves and keep the pelts as a trophy.

Looping the hairs around her hand, she tucked them into a pouch on her belt and stood. Her search had just become much easier.

Eleanor left the mine grinning.

She had been awake for almost thirty-six hours and fatigue weighed heavy on her bones, but she wasn’t ready to sleep. How many women with pale blond hair could possibly live in such a small town?

Her sons must have taken the car back to the trailer.

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