Crescent Moon: Cat Clan, #3

By C.L. Bevill

Ula is a wolf shifter who was kidnapped from the northern woods of Manitoba. Although she was freed from her captivity by the Cat Clan of Colorado, her sister is still missing. In the frantic moments of the liberation of the weres, she encounters Killian, a cougar were and member of the Cat Clan of Colorado.

Killian has enjoyed his friends' recent entanglements and never thought he would encounter his own mate in such desperate conditions. He knows Ula is the one within minutes but she is urgently intent on finding out what happened to her beloved sister.
Their concurrent journeys lead them to Canada and Paris, where they will do battle to discover truths that might be too unspeakable to comprehend.

Crescent Moon is a novella of about 35,000 words. It is intended as the third in the Cat Clan series. The order is Harvest Moon, Blood Moon, and Crescent Moon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C.L. Bevill
• Release date: Feb 11, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301184835

C.L. Bevill

C.L. Bevill is the author of several books including Bubba and the Dead Woman, Bubba and the 12 Deadly Days of Christmas, Bubba and the Missing Woman, Bayou Moon, The Flight of the Scarlet Tanager, Veiled Eyes, Disembodied Bones, and Shadow People. She is currently at work on her latest literary masterpiece.

Book preview

Crescent Moon

A Cat Clan Novella

By

C.L. Bevill

Published 2013 by C.L. Bevill

on Smashwords

© 2013 by Caren L. Bevill

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without written permission, except for brief quotations to books and critical reviews. This story is a work of fiction. Characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This novella is a companion piece to the Moon Trilogy

and the third in the Cat Clan novellas.

The order is:

Black Moon

Amber Moon

Silver Moon

Harvest Moon

Blood Moon

Crescent Moon

Much appreciation to Mary E. Bates, freelance proofreader of ebooks, printed material, and websites. Contact her at [e-mail]

Chapter 1

Slipping softly through the sky

Little horned, happy moon,

Can you hear me up so high?

Will you come down soon?

On my nursery window-sill

Will you stay your steady flight?

And then float away with me

Through the summer night?

— an excerpt from The Crescent Moon

by Amy Lowell

~

The dog for the man, the cat for the woman.

– English Proverb

~

Then

The human was hiding in a broom closet, one of the Cat Clan’s Elite Warriors said as he held onto the man wearing the bedraggled suit. The suit had been Brooks Brothers. Now it was muddied, shredded, and ripped. The man in the suit cringed from the warriors and tried to back away. The warrior growled at him and held him firmly by the upper arm. The warrior’s eyes were a mere slit; it was a testament to the high level of anger within the werecat.

The one who had been addressed, Killian O’Donnell, looked at the human in the suit. You would be the manager of the facility, he said.

The man didn’t say anything.

Killian sighed. Was I asking a question? His Irish accent was thick. He briefly wondered if the man didn’t understand, so he carefully controlled his tongue. He wasn’t happy with what had happened at this remote, antique military site, so his control was less than perfect. He held a clipboard with a sheath of papers fastened to it. With growing horror, he had been thoroughly reading the notes of some of the facility’s scientists. He tapped the clipboard on the desk beside him, making a loud sound. The human jerked. Your name is Whitfield Dyson, is it not? Killian asked specifically.

I want a lawyer, the human muttered.

The Elite Warrior at the man’s side chuckled. The Council doesn’t provide lawyers, dumbass.

Killian ran his fingers through his hair. The normally tawny brown hair was dirty. There was a lot of dust in these tunnels. He’d spent the better part of the last hour tracking down all the various humans running around like chickens with their heads cut off. He was pretty sure he smelled heavily of musk and sweat. The cat inside him was close to coming out, and he could feel the skin on the back of his knuckles itching with the need to let his claws emerge. But there was something else pushing at his senses. Something had been provoking him to go and wait where other Clan Warriors had been working on a set of barricaded doors. Kidnapped female weres had fortified themselves inside a room until help had come. The females didn’t trust their words, and from what Killian had seen, he couldn’t blame them. It had taken the familiar voice of the New York Clan’s Alpha to get the women to open it.

Something inside him pushed at him, and he was gritting his teeth as he went along with doing what he knew had to be done, instead.

The location was an old military facility. It had been abandoned decades before because of its proximity to the unstable Yellowstone area of Wyoming. Lately, it was a private group’s gallery of horrors. Weres had been kidnapped. They had been experimented upon. Worse things had happened.

Killian was a were, otherwise known as a shifter, an individual who has the ability to change into an animal form. He’d been born a were. His mother was a cougar were. His father was a wildcat were. The cougar genes had been predominant in Killian. He’d moved from Ireland years before because weres tended to be independent. He wanted a clan with more freedom than the Irish one. He’d found it in the Colorado Clan, but he wasn’t in Colorado at the moment.

Days before, his clan’s second in command, Emma Lucia, had been kidnapped and brought here. Consequently, the Alpha were, Christopher Wheeler, had pretty much lost his mind. The two were mates, a pair of weres who were meant to be together, but they’d been dancing around each other for years. Since Wheeler had shared Emma’s history with Killian, Killian now understood why.

Only recently, humans had taken Emma with the help of a rogue were, and it was hardly her first experience with a rogue were. The think tank wanted to experiment with the DNA of the weres. They wanted their own army of weres. They also didn’t mind using the weres as exotic hunting game in order to secure financing from rich investors.

Does he have a wallet? Killian asked the warriors. Donate a million bucks, hunt a were creature! The words swirling in his head made the gums in his mouth itch. The fangs were only a heartbeat away from materializing. A heartbeat after that. he would be using them on the human, but he controlled himself.

A moment later, the leather bifold was handed to Killian. Killian looked inside. Yes, Whitfield Dyson. Driver’s license from New York. My goodness, he has a wife and two children! Looks like they’re in high school. How proud they would be of Daddy. He threw it back at Dyson. Dyson looked up, startled, and reached down to collect the wallet. He put it in his jacket pocket with a shaking hand.

I have money, Whitfield said.

Your family will need it when you’re gone, Killian said. Bring him.

The two Cat Clan Warriors dragged the human with them. Killian didn’t need to ask where Christopher Wheeler had gone. He could scent Wheeler’s rage as if it was palatable. All he had to do was follow it like it was a neon arrow. But the scent was muddled with something else. Every part of Killian strained like an animal on a tight bit to figure out what it was that was bothering him.

At the exit was a pen that was open to the woods and the darkness. Wheeler stood there, but he was hardly relaxed. The energy pouring off the Alpha was similar to what would happen when one stuck a moistened finger into an electrical outlet.

Wheeler’s head didn’t move even when one of the Cat Clan Warriors threw Whitfield Dyson to the ground.

This is the manager of the facility, Killian said sharply. They have an expanded scientific agenda for their subjects. They use some of their research for medical applications. He paused and said, They also have a breeding program. He waited for the feline explosion, and when it didn’t come, he added, They also have several other ways of raising money. Some of their donors are allocated special hunting permits for the game in this area. It’s usually listed as cougars or gray wolves. Nothing endangered at the moment.

His name? Wheeler’s voice was flat.

Whitfield Dyson, Killian said and crowded behind Whitfield as the man tried to inch away. Some of the other clan members streamed out behind them and one said with clear revulsion, They hunted our kind.

Killian’s head came up at the sound of the voice. Every part of his body was rigid with his immediate attention. She came out of the blackened tunnels, and the various lights illuminated her pale blue eyes. Her black hair spilled over her shoulders. She was dressed in medical scrubs, but they didn’t detract from her innate femininity. He could tell a number of things just by looking at her. She was enraged. The tautness of her muscles revealed her utter fury. Her eyes found Whitfield Dyson, and she could have ripped his throat out with her bare teeth. She added, And killed them, too. Let me have him. He’ll suffer endlessly.

Killian had an urge to rush over to her, so he could scent her neck. He wanted to throw himself at her. One of the other women said something to her. The woman with the pale blue eyes brushed her off. He shook his head, clearing the unusual feelings roiling through him just in time to hear Whitfield say, I’ll tell you if you let me live.

Killian chortled, but it was half-hearted. Fat chance, boyo.

Wheeler put his hand around Whitfield’s neck and lifted him into the air as if he was a cotton ball. He held the man up high above himself and watched as the suited man asphyxiated and kicked his feet helplessly.

Killian shook his head. Stupid man. Don’t piss off a were. You’ve had this place for months, and you haven’t learned that? He wanted to look back at the woman with the pale blue eyes. One of the other weres was speaking to her in a whisper, but he could hear the words. Ula, he’ll pay. He’ll pay. He’ll wish he was dead.

I won’t kill you, Wheeler said. The Alpha made sure that Whitfield Dyson understood that weres weren’t to be trifled with. With that, Wheeler was done with words. He changed into the lion that he was, and the nonverbal message was sent, with the force of a guided missile, was that he would never be allowed to touch another were.

When Killian looked back over his shoulder, the woman he now knew was called Ula, was gone.

Killian craned his neck, seeking her out, and then kicked Whitfield in the side in mute frustration. Wheeler spun on his paws and shot into the blackness of the night. The Alpha