Beneath A Rogue Moon: The Brotherhood of Ruin, page 9
When the last bars of the song faded, I pulled back, but Ryce didn’t immediately release me. Instead, we moved in one last slow circle, gazing into each other’s eyes as if we truly were the only two people in the room.
The moment didn’t end abruptly, but rather, as we came to a stop, the rest of the world materialized around me like some special-effects scene in a movie. The sounds of conversation and laughter and balls striking each other on felt; the smells of stale beer and perfume and disinfectant; the faces deliberately looking away because no one in that place would dream of pissing off the big scary guy.
I could see in Ryce’s face that he, too, had lost himself there for a moment. He dug in his pocket for his cigarettes and gave me a stiff nod. “You mind if I step out for a smoke?”
A rush of anxiety swept away the last of the lovely, floaty feeling as I looked around the crowded bar at all the people who belonged there—all the people who knew I didn’t. I couldn’t handle their judgement at that moment, even if it was silent.
“Can I come with you?”
Ryce raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Of course.”
He guided me to the side door and held it for me as if he was escorting me to a red carpet event instead of a gravel parking lot. I stepped outside into the darkness and had a split second to enjoy the cool air on my face as Ryce joined me on the rough wooden porch.
Then there was a blur of movement, a grunt, and three of the largest men I’d ever seen slammed into Ryce and tackled him to the ground.
Chapter
Thirteen
KAYLA
Even as I panicked, I could tell that there was something strange about the men piling on top of Ryce.
It wasn’t just their tremendous size and strength, though they had to be the three biggest men I’d ever seen, as solid and broad as boulders. There was something brutally primal—almost feral—about the way they were tearing into Ryce.
Ashamed as I am to admit it, for a long moment, I did nothing. It was as if my body was frozen while my mind tried to make sense of what I was seeing, not just the speed and violence of the attack but the physicality of the brutes’ bodies.
And there was something else: as I watched one of them pull back his arm in preparation to swing at Ryce, I would’ve sworn that, silhouetted against the street lights in the distance, I saw claws protruding from his fingers. Thick, ragged, blunt points that almost looked like…bear claws.
But that was impossible.
My mind, already traumatized by everything that had happened in the hours before, had been pushed past the edge of reason, and I was imagining things. I needed to snap out of it—fast.
Less than an hour earlier, Ryce saved my ass—and now I needed to return the favor.
There was no such thing as bear-men. But rival enforcers sent by someone Ryce had been paid to rough up? Yeah, that seemed credible.
Which meant Ryce was in even more trouble than I’d imagined.
I finally regained control of myself and rushed into the fight with no real plan, grabbing for the first attacker I reached. But my hand had barely closed around his arm before he flung me away with a flick of the wrist. The force was enough to slam me into the side of the bar, knocking the air from my lungs.
Then, looking straight at me, he threw back his head and roared like an animal——and that’s when I saw his teeth. Two rows of pointed incisors bordered by four long canine fangs.
That was no illusion—those were the teeth of a bear. An actual…fucking…bear.
Every instinct urged me to run for my life.
But as I stood doubled over and gasping for air, two drunk men staggered onto the porch, drawn by the sounds of a fight. Their arrival distracted the three beasts’ attention long enough for Ryce to scramble to his feet.
The fight took a turn as the newcomers joined in. They didn’t last long; one was thrown at least a dozen feet, landing with a sickening thud. The other managed to stagger to his truck and grab his shotgun from the rack, fumbling with a box of ammo that scattered on the ground. He got the weapon halfway to his shoulder before one of Ryce’s attackers tore it from his hands. The beast tossed the weapon over his shoulder before picking the man up and doing the same to him.
I could only stare in horror as the half-man/half-bear tore the tailgate off the truck with a screech of tearing metal. He swung it around at Ryce as if it was as light as a broom.
“Watch out!” I screamed just in time.
In one preternaturally smooth motion, Ryce spun and dropped to the ground, dodging the blow by a fraction of an inch. For a split second, I caught sight of his face.
And just like that, I couldn’t breathe again. Not because the wind had been knocked out of me…but because Ryce had fangs of his own.
His were thinner, longer, sharper than the others. Ditto the claws that raked the air.
I felt dizzy with confusion and horror, torn between what was right in front of me and the certainty that I was imagining it.
Incredibly, once on his feet, Ryce was holding his own. It was clear that, whatever he was, his leaner frame was faster and more agile than the hulking bear-men. He was able to land multiple solid blows while managing to blunt the ones he couldn’t dodge.
But he was tiring; I could see it in the veins standing out at his neck and hear it in the grunts as the attacker’s blows began to find their mark.
By the time the third bear-man tossed the twisted metal tailgate and rejoined the other two, Ryce was rapidly weakening. If I didn’t come up with something fast, Ryce was going to be killed.
I flew off the porch and sprinted past them toward the mangled truck. No one paid me any attention as I grabbed the shotgun off the ground. My hands shook as I shouldered the weapon.
“Stop!” I yelled. It took a couple more tries before I managed to get the beasts’ attention, and even then, they only seemed to find me hilarious. At least they were laughing so hard they let up on Ryce for a moment. One of them sauntered toward me, his lips pulled back from his large yellow teeth as if he thought I’d let him take the gun from me as easily as he’d taken it from its owner—but I wasn’t bluffing.
I pulled the trigger.
A spray of pellets hit him square in the chest, the blast tearing his jacket to shreds. Blood poured from his wounds—but still, the creature didn’t stop. He made it a couple more steps before beginning to sway, then he tipped his head back and howled with rage, the sound chillingly animalistic, not human at all.
I bent down, desperate to grab another shell before the other two bear-men could rip my arms from their sockets, but as I grabbed for the ammo, there was a crashing sound at the edge of the forest. I lifted my head to see two figures tearing out from the trees at full speed.
And oh, God, more fucking claws and fangs.
Past trying to sort fact from illusion, I was reduced to trying to figure out if they were friend or foe—bear or…whatever Ryce was. I felt weak with relief when they came close enough for me to tell they were the latter. They were tall and lean, their features chiseled. They had the same dark brown hair touched with silver, the same sharp, flashing golden eyes.
Wolves, it came to me. That’s what they reminded me of.
The newcomers charged the bear-men, clashing with them in a scene of unbelievable violence. Blood and curses flew as they joined Ryce’s fight until the outnumbered bear-men grabbed the man I’d shot and carried him off into the woods. Even injured, their retreat lasted only seconds.
Ryce teetered and collapsed onto the ground.
Without thinking, I rushed past the two strangers and dropped down to my knees at his side. His clothes were in tatters, and blood oozed from more wounds than I could count. His eyelids fluttered closed, and his mouth was slack.
But at least he was back to the Ryce I knew. No more fangs or claws. I grabbed his hand and shuddered at how cold his skin felt.
“Ryce—Ryce, can you hear me?” I could hear the desperation in my voice—and over that, the scrape of metal and heavy footsteps.
I looked up to see that the newcomers had picked up the tailgate and brought it over. They laid it on the ground and started to lift him onto it.
“Stop!” I begged them. “You can’t move him. He’s hurt! We’ve got to call an ambulance.”
The strangers ignored me, settling Ryce onto the makeshift gurney. Before I knew it, one picked me up and set me down roughly next to Ryce.
I struggled to sit up, even while each of them took an end and lifted the tailgate to their shoulders like a litter. I grabbed the cold metal to keep from falling off.
“We’ve got to get him help!” I repeated.
“That’s what we’re doing,” one of them snarled at me. Just in case I’d thought I’d imagined the whole thing, he bared his fangs at me. “If you really want to help him, don’t interfere.”
Ryce’s eyes fluttered open, and he lifted a trembling hand a few inches, only for it to drop down again. “Kay…Kayla. Stay here. Go…back inside.”
Every syllable was an effort, I could tell. Already he seemed to be falling unconscious again.
“I can’t.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’ve got to get you help!”
His lips moved but made no sound, his hand twitching in mine before going still, and I was terrified that he had died until I saw his chest lift and fall slightly.
“Do you even know where you’re going?” I demanded.
Unsurprisingly, the strangers ignored me. I rolled off the tailgate and landed hard, barely keeping my balance, but the men didn’t even pause, heading toward the trees at a good clip.
“Where are you taking him?” I called after them.
They’d begun moving rapidly back the way they’d come, striding into the forest as casually as if they were carrying a single two-by-four rather than half a ton of man and metal.
Shit.
I looked back and forth between Ryce and the roadhouse, unsure of what to do—run inside and call the police or try to follow them.
I knew I wasn’t strong enough to protect Ryce from…well, anything I’d seen tonight. But then again, neither were the cops. And somehow, it didn’t feel right to throw my hands up in defeat. Ryce had saved my life tonight—and now I had to try to do the same.
Besides, no matter what awaited in the woods, I was betting that it would be better than Blunt. So before I could second guess myself, I raced to catch up.
“I’m not leaving Ryce,” I said as firmly as I could manage, but the wolf-like strangers didn’t seem to care. They completely ignored me as they advanced deeper and deeper into the woods.
I had no idea where we were going, only that we were on a trail that led up one of the foothills at the edge of the mountains that towered over the town. Stopping to catch my breath, I turned to see a gorgeous view of the glittering lights of Vidalia below.
But I couldn’t stop for long, or Ryce’s rescuers would leave me behind. As I struggled up the rest of the hill, I caught the sound of running water. The higher we climbed, the louder it grew.
As we crested the top of the ridge, I caught a glimpse of moonlight glinting off a waterfall. It wasn’t huge, just a cascade over rock smoothed by centuries of snowmelt, but it was eerily beautiful in the stillness of the night. The men skirted the waterfall, edging between it and the rock wall.
Only it wasn’t a cliff face after all, but the mouth of a cave, camouflaged by the fall. I could see no more than a couple feet into its interior—and yet that was where they were taking Ryce.
I hesitated, glancing back over my shoulder toward town. From this distance, I could just make out the college bell tower and the downtown grid. I wondered how the hell I had gotten here, about to take what felt like the biggest risk of my life.
But there was no time to deliberate as the men disappeared into the cave with the stretcher between them. It was too dark for me to see anything, but the men seemed to know where they were going, so I reached for the jacket of the man in back and took the hem in my fist, cringing in anticipation of his fury.
Instead, all I heard was an exasperated sigh.
I felt the man ahead of me crouch, so I did the same, praying I wouldn’t slam my head into a rock. I’d never experienced anything like the darkness that surrounded us. It was so complete, so absolute, that it filled me with a terror I could barely process. It was all I could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other. I hadn’t come this far to abandon Ryce now.
Fortunately, the darkness didn’t last long. Just when I thought fear would swallow me whole, I saw a faint glimmer of light ahead.
At first, I thought it was the moon, but as we drew closer, it grew brighter, shimmering with a bluish tint. What it revealed was that we had come to a dead end.
“What the—“ My words died away as the air rippled and shimmered, and what could only be described as a rip appeared, as if an otherworldly hand had torn a hole in the light the size of a man. “What is that?”
“The veil.” The man I’d been hanging onto turned and looked at me for the first time, studying me as if I’d finally done something worthy of his attention.
“Told you they wouldn’t know about the veil, Grimm,” the other one said smugly.
The one called Grimm grunted, and they started moving again—carrying Ryce straight into the tear in the glittery blue light. And I was left standing there, deciding between staying behind in this pitch-black cave or following them into the unknown.
Ryce let out a low groan, making my decision for me. There was no way in hell I was about to let him face whatever was on the other side of that rip...or veil...or whatever it was alone.
Once more, I grabbed for Grimm’s jacket just before he disappeared into the darkness and held on. As I passed through the tear, I felt a brief, chilly mist that dissipated into total darkness again.
And then the men did something surprising: they turned around and headed back through the cave again. I had no choice but to follow while a thousand questions raced through my mind.
What was the point of that? All I knew was that we seemed to be retracing our steps, something that was confirmed when we reached the waterfall at the mouth of the cave and emerged into a clear, moonlit night.
We’d been inside the cave no more than five minutes by my reckoning, yet the cloud layer had lifted completely, revealing a bright gibbous moon. It shone down on the familiar contours of the valley spread out below, and—
Wait. I blinked hard and rubbed my eyes, but it didn’t change the fact that Vidalia had vanished. There were no lights in the windows—no windows, period. No bell tower, no roads, no highway off in the distance. Nothing but uninterrupted forest.
It took me a few seconds to spot a faint, flickering cluster of lights near what should have been the stadium at the far end of the university.
“Where are we?” I asked in a small, frightened voice. “Please, please tell me what’s going on.”
No answer. We were on the move again. It was easier going downhill than up, but I still struggled to keep up with the strangers whose lot, for better or worse, I’d thrown in with.
Halfway down the mountain, I could make out that the light came from torches spaced around high wooden walls surrounding a village. It was as if traveling through the veil had landed us on the set of Beauty and the Beast.
It was an absurd thought—but no more absurd than the fact that the town I now called home had vanished, replaced by a fairy-tale fortress. As we neared the bottom of the foothill, I could see other lights far off in the distance, other towns or settlements nestled into the valley and the mountains above, where I was pretty sure there should have been nothing at all.
None of this was possible…and yet it was happening.
My reality was gone. All that remained of it was a man lying unconscious on a metal bed.
Chapter
Fourteen
KAYLA
This couldn’t be real.
My entire sense of place and purpose, everything I thought I knew, seemed to waver as we neared the massive wooden gates of the village. Ryce hadn’t moved or made a sound since we’d stepped through the bizarre blue portal, and I wasn’t sure which I should be more worried about—his condition or my situation.
For their part, the two strangers continued to ignore me as we walked through the opening in the fifteen-foot tall fence built of massive logs girded by iron. It was an impressive structure that completely encircled the settlement.
Two young men, guards by the look of them, stood bathed in torchlight at the gate. Swords sheathed in elaborately tooled scabbards hung from their belts, and they rested their hands on the hilts. They wore coats of dark gold wool embroidered with indigo thread.
They stared at me as if I was an alien, which seemed apt—because while the moonlit topography of the land was identical to that surrounding Vidalia, with the familiar ridgeline of the Siskiyou Mountain range, this clearly wasn’t Oregon.
The air was different, somehow. Cleaner, clearer, more…vibrant. There were no highway or airplane sounds, only the wind and the birds and animals of the forest.
Wherever I was, it wasn’t home.
I met the gaze of one of the guards. His dark hair was thick and threaded with silver. His leather boots looked primitive as if they’d been stitched together by an actual cobbler. The buttons of his coat appeared to be genuine carved bone.
I studied the men who’d carried Ryce all this way and saw that they were similarly outfitted in rustic, homespun clothing; I’d been too distracted to notice until now. Not only that, the villagers gathered in the street past the gate were all dressed in the same fashion, the men in rough woolen shirts and tunics, the women in long dresses.
There was no way I could fool myself into believing any of this was pretend. This village was no plyboard Renisannce Faire mock-up tucked into a quiet corner of the woods. This was an entire town.
A real one—with permanent timber and stone buildings, cobblestone streets, fully stocked shops, and a town square.
