His Missing Luna

Chapter One

Amelia’s Point of View

“Amelia?” Somewhere in the far-off land of consciousness I could hear my Mother calling my name. I gave a half snore, half snort sound and rolled over on to my side. I hated mornings.

I heard her huff and felt the bed dip slightly when she perched on the edge and started to shake me. Gently at first but with more urgency as I continued to ignore her.

“AMELIA!” She finally shouted. “I need you to wake up.”

I tried to open my eyes but they felt like they were glued shut.

“What time is it?” I muttered as I attempted to pull myself up into a seated position.

“5 am.” She said nonchalantly before switching on my light.

“Arggghhh!” I yelled as the fluorescent burned my retinas through my eyelids. “5 am? What? Why?”, I didn’t get up until 7 am for school. Had my mother had some sort of psychotic break?

“Look. I need you to help me at the diner today! The manager has called in sick, and Ada is on holiday. We have to do the breakfast shift.”

“You want me to miss a day of education for this?” I grumped. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t the biggest fan of school, but at least I’d get another two hours of shut-eye.

“It’s an emergency,” she continued. “and one day isn’t going to ruin your entire life, is it?”

“S'pose not!” I replied in an unfriendly tone.

My mother threw my uniform at me, which I caught with my eyes closed. One of the beauties of being a wolf? My sense of sound was so acute that I could hear my blacks and whites sailing through the air. Catching them was down to my increased reaction speed. I smiled to myself. I still hadn’t opened my eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re very clever.” Mom muttered.

“I can’t see you but I know you just rolled your eyes at me.” I laughed before finally wrenching open my eyes and jumping straight out of bed. I landed softly on the balls of my feet. No heavy steps for me. Werewolf genes!

My mother had already left the room. She was downstairs flicking the coffee pot on. More werewolf shizzle.

But here’s the thing about my Mom and me. Very few people knew we were wolves. We ‘went rogue,’ when I was about four years old. I don’t know the reason why and, to be honest, it’s none of my business. All I know was that we settled in a small town and learned the human way of life.

My Mom was a single Mom and has worked tirelessly to raise me by herself. She was 21 when we arrived here. At 17, I am just beginning to understand what a strain that must have been. She started at the local diner as a waitress and worked her way up to Manager. She now co-owns the same diner with her best friend Ada. Her daughter, Maddie, was the same age as me and the only real friend I had. I used the term 'real' because she knows about us. I hung out with a few girls at school, but I’d hardly call them soul mates. They knew there was something different about me, they just weren't sure what that something was.

I padded into the bathroom in my PJ’s. I showered, brushed my teeth and changed into my clothes. I wiped the condensation from the mirror and cast a quick glance at my reflection. I’m a natural white blonde with emerald green eyes, but wear contacts so that they appear mud brown. Not exactly a color to fire up the loins of any would-be male suitors. But my Mom insists that my color is too bright and unusual for the human world. Especially if my wolf Navayeh comes to the surface. Then they positively glow.

'Sorry did you say something?' Vay mumbled sleepily in my head in answer to my unspoken thought of her name.

'Nah you’re good, stand down.' I felt her blink slowly before curling back up into a ball.

With my contacts in, I towel dried my hair and double-dutch braided it. The end result was I looked about 12!

I checked my reflection again. My dull eyes looked back at me and my forehead creased in disdain. I was wearing a white button-down shirt and a skirt that clung to my calves. Whilst my hair suggested I was pre-teenage, my outfit screamed 50 years plus. Sometimes I thought all the things that my Mom did to conceal us were actually just highlighting us. As a couple of weirdos, if nothing else.

I jumped from the top stair down to the ground floor in one effortless bounce and almost collided with my Mom.

“Take it easy, Tigger!” She said, handing me a plastic refillable cup. I inhaled the scent of the fresh coffee and my mouth watered accordingly. We didn't have a great deal of money, but my Mom refused to buy cheap coffee. I sighed happily and took a pull from the cup. It was wonderful.

My Mom pulled on one of my braids. “Shoes!” She commanded, making me chuckle. I pushed my slender feet into a pair of Goddess awful shoes.

“Ready.” I grinned at her. “Let’s go join the human race.”

We stepped out of the front door and walked at a speed that humans appeared to be comfortable with. Honestly, it was so boring and took us freaking ages to get anywhere. We landed our feet a little heavier than was natural for us too and my Mom let her shoulders slump a little to give the illusion of being tired.

I laughed out loud. “Honestly Mom, it doesn’t matter how hard you try, you’ll never look less alert.”

“Don’t sugar coat these things Aimee.” She griped, using what she referred to as my human name. It made me wince. It wasn’t much of a difference from my given name, but it still pissed me off.

****

After what seemed like the whole of eternity, we finally made it to our place of work. Mom went to open the door and then froze on the spot.

“Mom? What’s wrong?” I whipped my head left and right and quickly span in a circle to take in our surroundings.

She sniffed the air… “I thought I smelt.. No, nothing, it's gone now.”

I exhaled in relief as she twisted the key in the lock. I was pretty certain that when we left our pack it was not on the best of terms. Occasionally, something would trigger my Mom. A smell, a noise, maybe a stranger that wasn’t from our small town. Each incident had come to nothing, but watching her happy and carefree expression slide from her face twisted my insides up for days afterward. This time would be no different, I was sure of that.

I went ahead of her into the diner and tapped in the alarm code to disable it. Immediately after, I walked behind the counter and tapped the same code into a different pin pad. This enabled another alarm that alerted us to the creatures that didn’t make any noise when approaching. Cautious was my Mom’s middle name.

We kept the blinds drawn over the door and front windows so that we could work quickly and methodically together to get the diner ready for the breakfast rush..

My Mom had gone out to do her prep in the kitchen. She would cook and I would take orders, serve and clear. It wasn’t ideal. We should have had a pot washer and another waiting person, but we’d just have to manage on our own.

Suddenly, there was an almighty crash and the front door flew open. My Mom always deadlocked the door behind her, so I was utterly bewildered as to how it had been opened and with such force. But when I turned around, my confusion turned into abject horror.

A man in his early twenties was standing in front of me covered in blood. From the way he was swaying back and forth it appeared to be his own. His hair was matted and stuck to his face with a mixture of sweat and blood. He was wearing nothing but a pair of cargo shorts.

As much as my timing sucked, as much as it was inappropriate, he was the best looking man I had ever seen in my life.