Luna of Rogues

Part 27 - A Twisted Mind

I tried not to show my alarm. "And how is that possible? Did my parents piss off the hunter community?"

Carter grinned slyly. Oh, I did not like that expression one bit. "Something like that."

"You're famous," Fion piped up. She had settled in a corner and was keeping the little girls out of my way. Leo, though, had pulled up a chair right next to me. It would be an educational demonstration for him.

It was my mate who finally ended the argument with, "What does it matter what her name is? Just start explaining. Who were your parents?"

Carter clamped his mouth firmly shut. It looked like he wanted to do this the hard way. I didn't really mind — it had been far too long since I had practised my intimidation skills.

"I'm bad cop," I spoke through the mind-link and heard twin groans of disappointment.

"Why do you always get to be bad cop?" Fion demanded.

"Because I always call dibs," I replied.

"Fine. I'll be good cop," Leo suggested sadly.

I nodded in agreement. Leo had never helped me with something like this before and Fion didn't seem all that interested.

"You're mind-linking," Carter observed.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," I muttered despairingly. It was such a human thing to state facts aloud for no particular reason.

He frowned at me, not seeming to understand it was sarcasm. I felt like facepalming. He was obviously a bit lacking in social interactions. "You're welcome, I guess. I know because you stopped moving. That was in the handbook."

"You want a cookie or something?" Then I considered his last words. "Wait, what handbook?"

"Oh, the handbook," Carter said breezily. "It explains everything about werewolves to the novice hunter. 'Bite the Bullet' by Scott Anderson."

"What?" Leo and I asked at the same time. And that was no coincidence. It was the standard reaction to discovering that someone had turned the killing of your species into a recreational pastime.

He stared sullenly at us, not dignifying it with a response. I tried to forget about the book and took a different track. "So ... about your parents. What happened to them, exactly?"

"I don't have to answer that," Carter replied, going into a sulk. It became obvious that he was still in the stage of teenagedom when moods could change fast and everything was annoying. Fifteen, I guessed. Or even younger.

"You do if you want to live," I explained darkly. My switchblade found its way out of my pocket and into my hand, where it began cleaning my fingernails. A tad over the top maybe, but Carter looked suitably afraid.

Leo seemed to finally remember he was good cop, and faked a convincing, sympathetic smile. "Can't you see he's just tired? Give the boy a break."

Carter's eyes flitted to Leo and stayed there, happy to have found a friend. The corner of his mouth twitched uncertainly as he said, "They were hunting a rogue. He killed my uncle, you see, years and years ago. So Mum and Dad went to find him, only I think he found them first."

"And the name of this rogue?" I demanded, unnecessarily because I already had a fair idea.

"Can't tell you that," he informed me. "Don't want to neither."

This was the crossroads. I could either drop it there and assume I was right ... or go the whole distance and torture him for the information. The latter wasn't an appealing choice. Carter was just a kid. A misguided, twisted, angry kid who wanted to follow in his parents' footsteps.