Page 16 of Marked By Moonlight

The two men exchanged grim looks. That was NODEAL’s worst nightmare. A lycan that infected indiscriminately could be a plague on the city. Or the world. Both men turned and stared unseeing at the television, each absorbing the implication of such a possibility.

Sighing, Cooper stood and brushed orange Cheeto dust from his hands. “I expect you to be available this weekend and taking calls.”

Gideon nodded, rolling his eyes. Who needed a wife when you had a NODEAL director breathing down your neck?

For a split second, the by-the-book agent in him considered coming clean and telling Cooper about the teacher, but he quickly squashed that idea. Hell, Cooper would probably put him on suspension. Then he’d track Claire down and destroy her himself. Gideon’s personal history with Cooper wouldn’t get in the way. Neither would sentimentality. Nor Gideon’s vague instinct that Claire Morgan was worth saving. Cooper was hard as nails. From that first meeting in his parents’ hallway, his mother’s corpse at their feet, that much had been clear. And only became clearer in the following years as Cooper took him under his wing and taught him the trade. Gideon had done his best to model himself after Cooper. A hard man driven by one purpose: to hunt and destroy lycans.

Apparently, Gideon March wasn’t as tough as he thought.

He owed Cooper his life—his and his sister’s. No argument there. He also owed him the truth about Claire.

Unfortunately, it was the one thing he couldn’t give him. Not yet.

“You look… different.”

Claire couldn’t help smiling at Maggie’s pause as they exited the school together. By the time their conference period rolled around, they desperately needed a little adult R & R. The bagel shop around the corner provided the perfect escape.

Only eleven in the morning and heat already cloaked the city. The smell of baked asphalt, thick and pungent, clogged Claire’s pores.

“Different good or different bad?”

“Oh, good! Different good,” Maggie assured, a hint of devilry in her smile. “I never knew you had breasts.”

Claire chuckled, allowing the tension to ebb from her shoulders. The run-in with Gideon had left her in a foul mood. As a result she lacked her usual patience and had decided to assign book work for her afternoon classes in order to spare them. To top it off, Jill Tanners, Lenny’s counselor, was too busy to see her. Claire knew when she was being avoided, but she had no intention of letting Tanners off the hook. It was her job to follow up on Lenny, and Claire intended to pester her until she did.

Her laughter died an abrupt death in her throat the instant she sawhim. The tension returned, stiffening every muscle as her feet dragged to a stop.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” she muttered under her breath, her heart lurching wildly against her chest.

Maggie pulled up beside her. Claire felt her curious stare scanning the side of her face.

“What is it?” she asked.

Claire couldn’t speak. Her attention focused on the maroon CJ-7 Jeep parked in the principal’s spot—on the man inside. The Jeep was a far cry from Principal Henderson’s Volvo. As was the stone-faced, hard-bodied man behind the wheel.

In the midmorning sunlight, Gideon March sat there like he had every right to park in the reserved space. Big as day and hardly inconspicuous in a vehicle that lacked doors and a roof. Not that his six-feet-plus frame was easy to conceal. A long, lean, denim-clad leg protruded from the Jeep, his Red Wing boot propped on the door frame as he watched her.

What if he got out of the Jeep?

What if he started spouting that ridiculous werewolf nonsense again?

What if—

“Who isthat?” Maggie whispered in hushed, reverent tones.

Claire shook her head dumbly, her stare never wavering from him. A pair of sunglasses obscured his eyes, but she could feel them burning into her.

“Do you know him?” Maggie pressed.

Claire tore her gaze free, focusing on her car and the prospect of escape. Refuge.

“No.” Claire resumed walking, forcing herself not to panic and run.

“Well, honey, I think he knows you. Or the way he’s looking, he wants to.”

Claire’s gaze skittered back to him. Sunlight glinted off his dark blond hair. The nerves along her spine tingled. And not entirely in fear.

“We don’t know each other,” she insisted, her voice firm.

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