Hunter's Moon Read online

  Hunter's Moon

  A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 15

  Yasmine Galenorn

  A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication

  Published by Yasmine Galenorn

  PO Box 2037, Kirkland WA 98083-2037

  HUNTER’S MOON

  A Wild Hunt Novel

  Copyright © 2021 by Yasmine Galenorn

  First Electronic Printing: 2021 Nightqueen Enterprises LLC

  First Print Edition: 2021 Nightqueen Enterprises

  Cover Art & Design: Ravven

  Art Copyright: Yasmine Galenorn

  Editor: Elizabeth Flynn

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any format, be it print or electronic or audio, without permission. Please prevent piracy by purchasing only authorized versions of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, or places is entirely coincidental and not to be construed as representative or an endorsement of any living/ existing group, person, place, or business.

  A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication

  Published in the United States of America

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Welcome to Hunter’s Moon

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Cast of Characters

  Timeline of Series

  Playlist

  Biography

  Acknowledgments

  Welcome back to the world of the Wild Hunt.

  Thanks to my usual crew: Samwise, my husband, Andria and Jennifer—without their help, I’d be swamped. To the women who have helped me find my way in indie, you’re all great, and thank you to everyone. To Kate Danley in particular, for running our author sprints that have helped me regain my focus in this current pandemic. To my wonderful cover artist, Ravven, for the beautiful work she’s done.

  Also, my love to my furbles, who keep me happy. My most reverent devotion to Mielikki, Tapio, Ukko, Rauni, and Brighid, my spiritual guardians and guides. My love and reverence to Herne, and Cernunnos, and to the Fae, who still rule the wild places of this world. And a nod to the Wild Hunt, which runs deep in my magick, as well as in my fiction.

  You can find me through my Website at Galenorn.com and be sure to sign up for my newsletter to keep updated on all my latest releases! You can find my advice on writing, discussions about the books, and general ramblings on my YouTube channel. If you liked this book, I’d be grateful if you’d leave a review—it helps more than you can think.

  Brightest Blessings,

  ~The Painted Panther~

  ~Yasmine Galenorn~

  Welcome to Hunter’s Moon

  Everything is in turmoil as Herne and Ember struggle to keep up with the collateral damage caused by the war against Typhon. An old enemy reappears—stronger and more dangerous than before. Once again, the hippocampi call for the Wild Hunt’s help. Not only has Straff, the son of Blackthorn, returned to his old haunts, but several teens have gone missing from the Foam Born Encampment. Herne and Ember tread a delicate balance, searching both for the kidnapper and the psychotic Ante-Fae. But when Ember makes a misstep, she falls into the hands of the King of Thorns. Will she be able to escape before he takes out his revenge on her?

  Reading Order for the Wild Hunt Series:

  Book 1: The Silver Stag

  Book 2: Oak & Thorns

  Book 3: Iron Bones

  Book 4: A Shadow of Crows

  Book 5: The Hallowed Hunt

  Book 6: The Silver Mist

  Book 7: Witching Hour

  Book 8: Witching Bones

  Book 9: A Sacred Magic

  Book 10: The Eternal Return

  Book 11: Sun Broken

  Book 12: Witching Moon

  Book 13: Autumn’s Bane

  Book 14: Witching Time

  Book 15: Hunter’s Moon

  Book 16: Witching Fire (forthcoming)

  Chapter One

  I searched my desk frantically. “Where the hell are they? I’m going to kick Herne’s ass for this.” I couldn’t find a file we needed for a meeting, and it was all Herne’s fault.

  My desk was one massive pile of papers and folders, and to top things off, I had spilled my latte all over everything, making even more of a mess. The wastepaper basket was full of wadded-up paper towels saturated with the stains of coffee and milk and sugar, and the half-used roll was on the floor, next to my boot. I kicked it out of the way as I scooped up an armful of the files and dumped them on the seat of my chair.

  The next moment, I let out a long sigh when I finally saw the file with the name “Cleandra” on the label. I fished it out from the stack of folders it was sitting in, managing to knock over another pile in the process. Ignoring the mess for now, I hurried out the door. I jogged back to Herne’s office, pausing by the door to collect myself. Then, and only then, did I turn the knob and let myself in.

  “Welcome back,” Herne said, smiling pleasantly from behind the desk. But his gaze fastened on me and I knew that—inside—he was cringing. He knew exactly what kind of a mood I was in. I said nothing as I held up the file. “You found it, thank you,” he said. “Let’s get back to business then.”

  I slid into the chair next to his desk. Our client—a very wealthy dwarf named Keri Cleandra—gave me a long look, then smiled. I had the feeling she knew that I was about to smack Herne, because she gave me a secret smile that women have when it comes to dealing with men. Dwarf or Fae, human or god, we all had those times when the men in our lives were this close to sleeping on the sofa.

  “Yes, I found it,” I said, gritting my teeth. But I was a professional, so I shook off my mood for the moment and turned to Herne. “So, what’s our next step?”

  “The next step,” Herne said, “would be to visit Keri’s property. We need to figure out how the thief is getting into her house.”

  “I don’t understand why my alarm system isn’t working,” Keri said. “I had it checked out.”

  Herne nodded. “Given you have an alarm system and a guard dog, and neither one reacted to the break-in, yet you keep losing property is pushing me to think you might have a poltergeist or something of the sort. But we can’t make that determination until we’ve actually examined the house.” He held out his hand for the file.

  I slapped it into his hand, harder than necessary. As I did so, I noticed the blueberry stain on the cover from my blueberry jam and peanut butter sandwich. I tried to ignore it, but Herne caught sight of the mess and gave me a long, meaningful look. I glared back at him and he hastily turned back to the file, opening it and placing it on his desk.

  “When would be good for you, Keri? We can come out either tomorrow or Wednesday morning.” Herne pulled out his tablet and brought up his schedule.

  Keri, who was around four-two—she was tall for a dwarf—and golden blond, smiled. Like almost all dwarves, she was sturdy, and muscled, but she was also stunning. She ran a mechanic’s garage, specializing in foreign engines. Even though she had a thorough grasp of domestic models, she preferred working on Porsches and Jags.

  “Tomorrow morning would be best. Around ten?”

  Herne nodded and tapped away with his stylus. A moment later, the appointment came through to my phone and tablet as well. “Ember and Yutani will look around and asc
ertain what we need to do next.” He stood, and I took my cue from him, also standing.

  Keri Cleandra slid out of the chair and gave us a formal nod, then turned. “Thank you,” she said over her shoulder. “I’ll see you then.”

  As soon as Herne closed the door behind her, he turned back to me. “What the hell? The file folder is covered in peanut butter and jam?”

  “You’re lucky I even found it! And it’s not covered in jam, so chill out. I’ll have Angel make up a new folder. But Herne, if you ever dump a mess like that on my desk again without asking, I’m going to kick your ass. And I know Yutani and Talia feel the same way. What the hell were you thinking, having Rafé stack all those files on my desk? I have an office full of papers that have to be sorted out now. You think I can go through them easier when they’re one big jumble?”

  Herne and I didn’t fight often, but the past few days had been one nightmare after another and we were all on edge.

  Herne paused, closing his eyes for a moment. He smiled, looking for all the world like a cute but lovable naughty little boy. “Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

  “No, it’s not that simple. You can’t just mutter ‘I’m sorry’ and expect it all to be okay. First, if we had lost the file, we have all the information in the computer and Angel could just print it out for us again. And second, panic will do you no good. We can find the mistakes easier if we go through the files one by one. You don’t need to dump everything on our desks at once. That’s not helping matters any.” I dropped into the chair next to his desk, leaning back as I stretched my legs out in front of me.

  We were facing a war with the dragons, the dead were flooding the graveyards, and worst of all, the United Coalition was considering letting the dragons have a seat in government. And on top of all of that, we had discovered a big mistake in the firm. Or rather, Charlie, our vampire accountant-in-training, had. That mistake meant that the Wild Hunt had overcharged at least eighty clients over the past few years.

  Herne would have no trouble paying them back. The real problem came in ascertaining just how much each client was owed, and convincing them not to sue us for fraud. While the Wild Hunt never meant to overcharge clients, a court might not see it that way, given how big of a mistake it ended up being and how many people had been affected.

  All of that meant that we had to go through every single file and review the hours listed for each client, run the figures through our new software, and note the difference between what our records showed they had paid, and what they should have actually paid. This would also impact taxes for that year, so we were hip-deep in overtime until we took care of the issue. Yeah, it had been an extremely rocky past few weeks, and we were all tired.

  I knew that this weighed on Herne’s shoulders more than it did on mine—he was responsible for the entire agency and I was just an employee, but his frantic desire to be done with it and make sure everyone was paid back had resulted in chaos.

  “So…talk to me,” I said.

  He jerked his head toward the daybed in his office. Herne kept his office organized and clean. The desk and other furniture was heavy walnut, old gleaming wood. The walls of the office were painted a robin’s-egg blue, and the ceiling was white. Over Herne’s desk sat a rack of antlers, massive and heavy, mounted on the wall. Two pair of wingback chairs offered plenty of seating, and a locked case displayed a number of various weapons. The daybed was for when Herne needed to spend the night in the office.

  In the year and a half that I had worked for the Wild Hunt Agency, I had never once seen his office untidy. Even now, in the midst of a crisis, it was calm, with plenty of plants to offer fresh oxygen and serenity. Mine had been tidy, too, until this morning.

  I followed Herne to the daybed. He curled up against one end and held out his arm. I snuggled up into the niche he offered, resting my head on his shoulder. My long raven hair mixed with the sprawling strands of wheat-colored hair that fell below his shoulders.

  “You’re right,” he said after a moment. “I’m sorry. We’re all on edge, I know that. I thought that by dividing the files, we’d be able to get through them faster.”

  “Well, it would be faster except that the stacks of files tipped over and they’re now all over the floor of my office. We should’ve just started out taking four or five at a time and worked our way through that way.” I frowned, my anger easing as we talked. I tried to suppress a smile. One thing I had learned during my time at the Wild Hunt: the men who worked here had very little sense of organization. Although Herne’s decisions were being influenced by his focus on the dragon menace. That was a hard reality to avoid or push out of mind.

  “Speaking of dragons,” I said.

  “Were we speaking of dragons?” Herne asked.

  I shrugged. “Well, I was thinking about them. Even though the dead are still on the move, and people are pissed over the curfew, have you noticed how quiet it’s been lately? Regarding the dragons, that is? Gyell is out there, targeting us, but he hasn’t done a single thing to retaliate. When I think of the look on his face the last time I saw him…” I shuddered. “He’d kill us all if he had the chance.”

  “I think that’s what’s worrying me most. We haven’t had any reports about the dragons in days. So, what are they doing? We know they’re not just going to give up and go away. Maybe you should contact Ashera to see if she knows anything?”

  “I can do that,” I said. “Have you heard from Cernunnos or Morgana regarding Echidna?”

  Herne shook his head. “Ever since they transferred her to Annwn, there’s been radio silence. And I don’t feel like I have the right to ask at this point. Morgana and Cernunnos will tell us what they want us to know when the time is right.”

  Herne’s parents—Cernunnos, the Lord of the Forest, and Morgana, the goddess of the Sea—had created the Wild Hunt Agency, to deal with the twin courts of Fae.

  When we had discovered that Echidna, the mother of all dragons, was still alive, they had swept her away before Typhon discovered she was still alive. Echidna was our one hope in defeating the Father of Dragons, and she was sequestered away in Annwn, discussing strategies with the gods.

  I wasn’t sure what to say. Part of me wanted to urge him to contact them. After all, we were in this war, too. But reality was: the less we knew, the better. We were all careful, but should one of us be captured, what we didn’t know, we couldn’t tell.

  The phone rang, interrupting us. It was Herne’s landline, so it was probably Angel on the intercom. I shifted so that he could stand up, and he hurried over to his desk to answer. He listened for a moment, then said, “Meet us in the break room.”

  He motioned for me to join him and, gathering my tablet and files, I followed him down the hallway. Viktor was already there, along with Angel. Talia and Yutani were almost to the break room when we got there. Rafé wasn’t in yet—he often came in during the evenings, along with Charlie.

  When we had gathered, Angel cleared her throat. “I just got a call from Rhiannon. You know, from the Foam Born Encampment?”

  We nodded. Rhiannon was the matriarch of the Foam Born Encampment, a Pod of water-horse shifters who lived over on Whidbey Island.

  “She’s coming in for an appointment this afternoon. She says it’s urgent and can’t wait.”

  A shiver raced down my spine. Shortly after Angel—my best friend—and I started working for the Wild Hunt, we had investigated a case over on Whidbey Island for the water-horse shifters. We thought we had managed to close it, but as time went on, we found out that it wasn’t quite as closed as we had hoped.

  We had captured one of the Ante-Fae—one of the ancient Fae. He had been killing people and siphoning off both their life force and their blood. When we delivered him to Cernunnos, Herne’s father had thrown him deep into a dungeon, planning to leave him there for the rest of his life. But then, one of the guards set to watch over him had vanished, and Straff vanished along with her. We had no idea where he was, but we suspe
cted that he was on the prowl again because reports of similar murders had cropped up recently.

  “Crap, you know what that means,” I said.

  “Don’t assume,” Talia said. “We don’t know yet—”

  “Well, I’m not sure,” Angel said. “She did mention that two teens from the Pod have gone missing. One was a young woman named Lecada, and Lecada has a twin. They’re bonded. You know how human twins bond? Well, apparently among the hippocampi, twin-bonds are even stronger and if one of a set of identical twins dies, then the other will feel it.”

  “Oh no,” I said, closing my eyes. “Tell me she didn’t feel the pain—because if Straff is involved—”

  “Oh, there was pain,” Angel said, a grim look on her face. “But not the way you might be thinking. Aja said her connection to Lecada was abruptly severed. It wasn’t the same as if her sister had been killed or even hurt, but she described it as if she and Lecada had never been connected. It traumatized Aja, because it was like cutting off something in one of her senses.”

  Talia paled. “That’s odd. Perhaps the girl was taken through a portal?”

  “That’s possible, but Rhiannon didn’t say anything about that.” Angel consulted her notes. “The other girl vanished a month or so ago—her name was Twinkle. She vanished without a trace.”

  “We need to talk to the twin, obviously, but I don’t want to scare her. What do the parents have to say? Were the girls prone to running away?” Herne asked.

  Angel shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her when she gets here.”

  “So, she’s not coming because of Straff?” Talia asked.