Wolfshot: Storm Moon Shifters Book 3 (EBOOK)

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Chapter One

Maverick Hale sipped his whiskey, his attention fixed on the large, centuries-old tapestry that hung on the wall of his flat above Storm Moon.

It was in excellent condition despite its age, with only a few areas where the silk thread had worn thin, or the colour had faded. It was a map of Medieval Europe, and many countries bore little resemblance to their current iteration. Images of mythical creatures were scattered across the landscape, as were castles and rivers, settlements and lakes, with the borders marked in red silk. He found it hypnotic, and ever since he’d bought it from the shifter auction, he had spent a lot of time lost in the details. Particularly the wolf heads stitched in gold thread that marked safehouses for shifters across the region. Or so he had been told. It was the main selling point for the item. He wondered if such sanctuaries still existed, and if so, what state would they be in, or what secrets might they reveal.

A knock at the door drew his attention, and with a shock, he realised the room was now dark, the sole light coming from the angled light fitting that illuminated the tapestry.

“Come in!” he called, turning on a lamp on the side table.

Arlo, the pack second, and manager of Storm Moon entered, dreadlocks swinging and a bounce in his step. “I see you’re still obsessing over that.” He nodded to the tapestry as he crossed to his side. “Planning a trip to find them?”

“I must admit, the thought had crossed my mind. It would take months, though. Years, actually.” His attention returned to the tapestry. “There are roughly two dozen across France, Germany, Spain, Portugal, the Netherlands, and Scandinavia.”

“And further. Eastern Europe, too.” Arlo frowned, leaning in. “Istanbul, by the look of it.” He shook his head, a trace of wonder in his expression. Maverick knew he loved history, particularly shifter history. “All those old empires, vanished. The map is nowhere near detailed enough, Mav. You would need more specific directions. I wonder if there’s an accompanying document that goes with it. Or was. You’d think if it existed, it would have been at that auction.”

Maverick sighed as Arlo voiced his own thoughts. “True. I should just consider it an object of beauty and leave it at that. Just like the other lots I bought.”

The shifter auction at Burton and Knight had taken place a month earlier, in March, and had attracted a huge crowd of enthusiasts. He hadn’t been intending to go, but in the end, curiosity had got the better of him, and he went with Harlan, the American occult collector who worked for The Orphic Guild, and Morgana, one of the witches who lived at Moonfell. Only Harlan had been to an auction before, and he helped them navigate the nuances and complexities. Morgana had bought a variety of documents—for their library, she had explained, as if she had needed to justify her interest. Maverick, however, had only bought one document, a hand-drawn map of wolf-shifter pack territories and sacred sites in the 1500s, encompassing the UK and Europe. He thought it complemented the tapestry well. His other purchases had been a collection of wolf head amulets, an engraved wolf mask inlaid with moonstones said to aid transformation, and a few other objects.

There were lots he had been interested in that he couldn’t afford, and others he would have dearly liked but went to unknown bidders. Harlan had been purchasing on behalf of several of his clients who he refused to name. The whole event had been fascinating, the sheer volume of objects overwhelming, and it had renewed Maverick’s interest in his own history. He wasn’t just a wolf-shifter and the pack alpha. He was part of something bigger that had been passed down through generations, and maybe across borders from the Otherworld. For a moment, he felt lost in the sheer volume of all that had gone before, and suddenly knew how collectors developed obsessions. He was developing one with shifter art.

“You’ve gone blank on me again,” Arlo said, a trace of amusement in his voice.

“Sorry.” Maverick dragged himself back to the present and turned to Arlo. “Everything okay downstairs?”

It was Thursday evening, one of their busiest nights. A band was booked for the club, a local group that promised to draw a big crowd.

“Yeah, all good. We should make a lot of money tonight. But Hal hasn’t turned up. He’s normally always on time, and as yet, he’s a no-show. He’s not answering his phone, either. I asked Hunter to go and check on him.”

Maverick frowned. “We promoted him, right?”

“A couple of months ago, while we were dealing with Owen. He works the club’s entrance now. He’s good at it, too.”

“I agree. He’s management material.” Hal had dark, shoulder-length hair that he tied in a top knot, and always wore a good suit. He handled the difficult customers well, and never let them abuse the two women who manned the ticket booth and cloakroom. He was also the oldest son of one of the shifter families who had been members of the Storm Moon Pack for years. “Perhaps he’s been held up in traffic. Or maybe he was out last night, and had a skinful.”

Even as Maverick was saying it, though, he thought it unlikely, and so did Arlo, from the look on his face. “He uses the Tube, and he’s not a drinker. Plus, it takes a lot to get us drunk, as you well know.”

“Who does he hang out with?”

“A few of the staff, but he worked last night and apparently went straight home. It’s not far. Edge of Tooting.”

A trace of worry gripped Maverick, but he shook it off. “I’m sure there’s an easy explanation.”

“Let’s hope so. I just thought I’d keep you informed, anyway.”

“Did Hunter go alone?”

“No. He went with Tommy.”

Hunter and Tommy were from Cumbria, and had joined the Storm Moon Pack together, both looking for a change. Hunter needed a distraction after splitting up with a witch who lived in Cornwall, and Tommy… Well, Tommy liked to party, and London offered that. Both were proving to be excellent additions to the pack, and both were good fighters, especially Tommy, who was as enormous and hairy as a bear.

Pleased with the choice, Maverick nodded. “Good. Although, if anyone attacked Hal, I’d be surprised. Everyone knows he’s a member of our pack. They attack him, they attack us. Maybe it’s something else. Girl trouble?”

“Not as far as I know. He seemed like his usual self last night.” Arlo was already turning away, his long stride taking him across Maverick’s luxurious flat to the door. “I need to get back downstairs, but I’ll keep you informed.”

***
Hunter lifted his head and sniffed the corridor outside of Hal’s flat. The rich scent of spices was coming from a flat down the hall, and incense drifted from another, but Hal’s flat gave nothing away.

He knocked on the door and raised his voice. “Hey, Hal! It’s Hunter and Tommy. You okay?”

Tommy pressed his ear to the door and shook his head. “Can’t hear a thing.”

Hunter dropped to the ground and tried to peer under the door, but it was fitted well, leaving no clue as to what lay beyond. On his feet again, he said, “This place is nice. I don’t get dodgy vibes. You?”

Tommy shook his head and brushed his hair off his face. “No. Well painted. Smells good. Friendly. Nice area, too.” He stepped back, assessing the door. “Want me to smash it so we can get in?”

“Fuck, no!” Hunter loved Tommy like a brother, but sometimes he wondered what he was thinking. “He wouldn’t thank us for that, and the neighbours would call the police. Besides, don’t you listen to me? I have these!” He fished the lockpicks from his pocket and swung them in front of Tommy’s face. “Domino taught me how to use them.”

Domino was the head of security for Storm Moon, and a woman with many skills. And she was seriously hot.

Tommy smirked. “Private lessons. Is that the only thing she taught you?”

“I’m not telling.”

Hunter and Domino flirted a lot, but so far, that was all. For now. The other night, though, as she’d shown him how to use the lockpicks on Arlo’s office door, they had leaned in, heads close. He was inches away from kissing her when Jax, another shifter on the security team, had appeared behind them, and they had eased apart, Jax smirking.

Making sure the hallway remained empty, Hunter tried various picks, glad he’d spent so much time practicing what was a very fiddly job, and eventually the lock released. He eased the door open. The flat was in darkness, so he fumbled for the light, flicked it on, and slipped inside.

The apartment was nicely furnished, but reasonably plain, and very small. Within a minute they had searched the whole place, and there was no sign of Hal. The bed was made, the rooms were clean, and there was only a mug in the sink.

“At least,” Tommy said, heading to the curtained windows, “there’s no sign of a fight. Why are the curtains drawn, though? If he went out today and was held up somewhere, the curtains would be open, right? Unless he likes to live in the dark.”

“Unless he didn’t come home after the club last night,” Hunter pointed out, worry knotting in his gut. “This place smells stale. Unused.”

“Which means what?” Tommy scowled. “Is he injured somewhere? Dead?”

Hunter glared at him. “Don’t even suggest that.”

“I don’t fucking like the idea! I like Hal. He’s a great bloke. But why else would he not be here? Even if he found a girl to go home with, he’d still be at work. He’s focussed. He doesn’t get distracted over women like someone I know.”

“Neither do I, you wanker. And Domino is not some girl, so shut up!”

“Tetchy!”

Hunter ignored him, focussing on the room. “Let’s check the wardrobe. Maybe he had to leave quickly.”

“His parents are in the pack!”

“Maybe he got into trouble and kept it from everyone. Maybe someone threatened him last night,” Hunter reasoned. “Sometimes people have secrets, Tommy. Unlike you, who is an open pamphlet.”

Tommy flipped him the bird.

Hal’s bedroom had a built-in wardrobe, and it was filled with a handful of suits and more casual clothing. His toiletries were in the bathroom, and an overnight bag and suitcase were at the bottom of the wardrobe.

Hunter knew this was bad news. Hal was missing, and they had no idea where he was. “Let’s trace his route home. He’d have taken the Tube and used the main road, but there’s a small park close by. Maybe he wanted to stretch his wolf. No harm in checking, right?”

Tommy nodded, still studying the flat, and from the grim look on his face, Hunter knew he was worried too.

***
Arlo was relieved to see Hunter and Tommy walking across Storm Moon club’s dance floor, shouldering their way through the crowd, oblivious to the dancing. Dionysus, their resident DJ, was playing a set before the band started. The pair had been gone for a few hours, and he’d started to have fears for their safety, too. However, Hal wasn’t with them.

“They’re back, Dom.”

Domino, a slim and muscular woman in her thirties with long, chestnut brown hair, looked up from the computer. “With Hal?”

“No.”

By the time she’d walked around the desk, Tommy and Hunter had entered the office, both looking frustrated and wary. Hunter’s eyes skimmed to Domino, but there was no hint of his usual flirting in them, and his gaze landed on Arlo. “He’s not there. We think he didn’t go home last night.” He ran through what they had found, Tommy adding details.

Arlo sank onto the sofa in the corner while he listened, and the others joined him in the seating area, all four leaning together over the table in the centre. “No sign of a struggle?” Arlo asked.

Hunter shook his head. “It was clean and tidy, much as I’d expect from Hal. We decided to check what we think would be his route home, too. We even thought he might have gone for a run in the closest park. Didn’t find a damn thing, other than a faint scent of him.” Hunter sighed. “Days old, I estimate.”

“Any blood?” Domino asked.

“No. Not his, anyway.”

Arlo had experienced a creeping dread ever since Hal had failed to arrive at work, a feeling he’d distanced himself from as he tried to be rational and not leap to conclusions. Hal was a young, fit wolf-shifter who would not be easily hurt. He was clever, and he could fight in his human body as well as in his wolf. Now, however, his fears came flooding back. “This is bad. Very bad. Do you think he’s been kidnapped?”

Domino snorted. “Why kidnap him? He doesn’t have loads of money, nor does his family. He’s not an influential shifter with political affiliations, and no dark secrets either, I’m sure.” She focussed her intense stare on Arlo. “Have you checked with his parents?”

“Of course. I called them earlier to make sure he wasn’t with them, before I asked Hunter and Tommy to look for him. Kept it light, obviously, and when his mum said he wasn’t, I suggested he was probably just running late.”

“Was she worried?”

“No, just puzzled. She was at the unit with his dad.” His parents ran a service garage that repaired cars, and Hal’s younger brother had started working there. “Said he didn’t often go there. They always caught up at home. She sounded busy. I told her not to worry and I’d chase it up.” He flopped back against the cushions. “Bollocks. Now I need to call her again and she’s going to be worried sick.”

“Let me.” Domino was on her feet and striding to the desk. “Maybe his brother has heard from him. Even his sister.”

“His sister is fourteen. I doubt she’ll know anything.” Arlo checked the time. It was close to nine, and Hal should have been there at five. “I don’t like this at all.”

“Me neither, mate.” Hunter frowned. “You want us to go back out? We could have missed something.”

Arlo shook his head. He was half listening to Domino’s phone call, so he already knew the bad news before she rejoined them. He pre-empted her. “He’s not there.”

“No, and now they’re worried, too. I asked her to call other family, old friends. Fuck.” Arlo didn’t need to tell Domino anything, as she was already phoning again. “Time to tell Maverick and make a plan.”