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

Author:Beth Trissel [Trissel, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Contemporary, Paranormal, Friends to Lovers, Action-Adventure, Animals
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press, Inc
Published: 2015-12-13T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

The Call

Hastening up the hall with Jackson, Morgan inhaled the tantalizing aromas emanating from the homey kitchen. “Yum. Something smells delicious.”

“Yep. Chicken pot pie, baked apples, and fresh cornbread. We’re in luck. And first,” he tossed over his shoulder.

Jimmy ducked under his arm and sped past them. “Beat you!”

“Hey! Cheat!” Jackson called, good-naturedly.

“It’s about the win, dude!” Jimmy shot back.

Reaching the table first had become a game between them. Normally, Morgan washed up and took a stab at fixing her windblown hair before meals. After hours out in the cold trying to master that impossible bow, she was famished. Rinsing her hands under the kitchen tap would have to do.

Beating the guys didn’t matter to her. Jackson indulging Jimmy in the little things he enjoyed was nice, though. The kid was a good sport and deserved some fun mixed in with these rigorous training sessions. Hawthorne usually entered into the friendly camaraderie. Not this evening. He lagged behind them, brooding over his would-be girlfriend.

Was Dilly as bad for his cousin as Jackson feared? Probably, if her mother was a notorious witch. Still, Morgan wanted to meet the Lizard Lady’s youngest daughter and judge for herself—assuming that hypnotic eye thing wasn’t hereditary. Meanwhile, thank God it was suppertime.

She halted in the doorway. Anticipation of digging into the savory dishes spread over the sideboard abruptly altered to alarm. Okema sat at the head of the table. He fixed those otherworldly eyes on her and beckoned with silent fingers.

A chill crawled down her spine. For the first time since breakfast several days ago, she lowered herself onto the bench at his left. Jackson sat across from her on his right.

Was it her imagination, or had Okema come because of her? She arched a questioning glance at Jackson, who answered with a slight shake of his head. He was also in ignorance as to why the unfathomable chief had joined them—a rare occurrence. What and where Okema normally ate eluded her. Granted, he was going on three hundred years old, but still human, or partly so. He must require regular nourishment to sustain life.

Did he kill deer in stealth and devour them raw? A shudder ran through her. She prayed Okema hadn’t noted it, or read her mind, but he very well may have. Better to think he chose to eat in the kitchen alone when the others were absent.

“Here, Morgan.” Miriam gently disrupted her inner conjecture and passed her a warm washcloth.

She wiped her hands on the cloth and passed it back. A glance into the older woman’s eyes told her nothing. If Miriam knew why he’d come, she wasn’t letting on. Jackson’s Aunt Willow gave no indication either, and the men sure weren’t divulging anything. Those two were as mute as the grave.

The mysterious warrior’s unexpected presence both disturbed and fascinated Morgan. He smelled of the age-old forest, the crumbling earth, deep-rooted trees, and a musk she couldn’t define, only that its essence embodied danger. He could give life or take it away.

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