Lunar Bound, page 25
part #4 of Sky Brooks World: Ethan Series
Samuel looked like he’d been on the run. His dirty-blond hair was long, ragged. His khaki military cargo pants were filthy and worn, like they hadn’t been washed in a week. Blood stained his matching shirt, some of it old. The dried blood beneath his broken nose was more recent, courtesy of Ethos, as were the deep cuts on his arms that probably needed stitches.
Part of me hoped he’d die on the way to the retreat, but he didn’t oblige. We were still a half hour away when he woke up. Confused by his surroundings at first, his gaze finally settled on me. If he thought to fight, he quickly abandoned the idea.
His exhaustion was evident as he declared, “I don’t have the book anymore.”
Sky answered for me. “We know. Do you remember what happened?”
“Three of your kind”—he said with disdain—“and a witch ambushed me.”
“That wasn’t a witch. It was Ethos.”
“That’s not possible,” he insisted. “Not at all. I watched him die.”
“Let me guess, someone stabbed him in the neck or something equally as fatal.”
“I shot him,” Samuel insisted. “I shot him after he killed my best friend.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Five years ago.”
Sky raised an eyebrow to me. I knew what she was thinking. Faeries were hard to kill. This was twice we knew of that Ethos had seemed dead, only to rise again. She already seemed convinced that he was a Faerie. There was a decent chance she was right.
Pursuing her theory, she asked Samuel, “What do you know about Faeries?”
The question surprised him. “They are extinct. There are rumors that a few remain as spirit shades, but I believe those are just tales that keep people wishful of the opportunity to be a host and have omnipotent power.”
“Then why did you try to kill Ethos?”
“He killed my friend. Like most foolish level fives, he wanted more power, more strength, and the name Ethos was passed around like an urban legend. He would let you borrow his magic. Magic so strong you would be close to a level one. But Ethos’s magic is different. The rumors of him being a demon-witch hybrid must be true. My friend called me, and when he changed his mind after making a blood contract with him, Ethos killed him. I was too late.”
Noting the city looming ahead, he began to squirm. He gestured to an approaching gas station.
“Let me out here.”
I gave him a hard look through the rearview mirror as I drove past the station.
He stiffened. “Am I your hostage?”
“You’re alive,” I growled, preferring we’d left him behind.
Sky gestured to the slashes on his arms. “You need medical attention.”
“I’m fine.” He shifted in the seat, grimaced at a pain in his leg. “Let me out.”
Josh and I exchanged looks. Keeping Samuel against his will was going to be more trouble than it was worth. He was lucky we’d taken him this far. I eased the AMG to the side of the road, in sight of a gas station up ahead. If he wanted out, he could damn well walk on his injured leg.
“Feel free to walk,” I said.
Noting the distance, he stubbornly opened the door and climbed out. He winced as he walked, favoring the one leg.
Josh leaned out the window. “We want the Clostra back just as much as you do. Our agendas may be different but we have a common goal, to possess the Clostra. I am a lot more comfortable with you having it than Ethos.”
Samuel paused, limped back a step to regard Josh. After a moment, he turned his attention to me. “You could have stopped this. When magic is involved, people will always fight for more of it, to subjugate and control. It was in your control to stop this, so whatever happens, know that you could have stopped it.”
I made my contempt plain. He was a crazed zealot. His view of magic was childlike, simplified to rationalize his bullshit. In his eyes, we were cursed, captives to our animal. He seemed to believe we’d somehow be saved by his spell, but the language of the Clostra was far from clear. “Laying the beast to rest” could just as easily mean death.
A look of shame passed over Sky’s expression. “Yeah, I get that,” she said, glancing at her palms. “I wouldn’t change a thing. I don’t claim to know what is best for other people. You are welcome to your belief that all magic in all people is bad, but you don’t have the right to take it from others. And as altruistic as you believe your motives are, they aren’t. You want to kill an entire group of people for your belief. How are you any better than the people and the magic you claim to hate?”
He remained quiet for a moment, unmoved. “Your blissful naïveté may be appealing to others, but I find it very dangerous. I find you very dangerous. The vampire is nothing more than an abomination, and you and your kind are a vile mockery of magic. Animals that present themselves as human are just as abhorrent as the dead presenting themselves to the world as men.”
Anger swelled in her.
“Sky,” I said.
He wasn’t worth a confrontation.
Ignoring me, she climbed out to face him, her eyes inches from his own. “I could have left you back there and you could have died. I didn’t. Yet as we stand here trying to help, your response is to tell me I am abhorrent and vile. Can you remind me, who’s the real monster between the two of us? This fantasy world of lollipops, rainbows, and all babies dressed up like an Anne Geddes photo is just that—a fantasy. I get it, you want to believe that the people who live in this world are assholes because of the magic. Maybe that’s the reason you are using magic to justify you being one, too. ‘Like alcohol, the magic made me do it.’ You forget that there are vampires who have friends and loved ones who aren’t vampires. You kill them and you kill someone those people loved. How are you better?”
He remained silently unmoved.
She sighed, her anger fading. “The people who are evil with magic will be evil without it. They will just find other ways to achieve their goals. I’m not as naïve as you choose to believe I am. I know I’m not going to change your mind, but you are strong and we may need you. However you feel about magic, if Ethos and Marcia get their way, you will be a servant to one of them, and I don’t think you will like that.”
He ran a hand through his hair as he looked around. “I shouldn’t have insulted you. I can’t go back to my place. When I’ve found a new place, I will contact Sebastian. I will help you with this, but Skylar, my views still stand.”
“We can find a place for you to stay for a while, if you need it.”
I glanced to Josh, saw the anger welling in him. I’d be damned if I was going to spend pack resources helping the man who once held my brother hostage.
“No,” Samuel said, catching my glare. “I’m fine.”
He turned and limped toward the turnoff. Sky watched him go, shaking her head.
Measuring the distance at a glance, I figured he’d probably get to a phone in a couple hours, unless he passed out from the pain. Either way, I was fine.
“We aren’t going to keep taking in your strays,” I warned as she got back into the car. “Stop trying to save the world. It’s not your job…”
She rolled her eyes, infuriating me.
“Do you understand?”
Her attention fixed on something outside the car, ignoring me.
“Sky.”
Forced to reply, she answered in a cloying tone. “O-kay.”
I shook my head and pulled back onto the road.
CHAPTER 12
The rest of the ride was silent. I dropped off Josh, then Sky. She left without a word, slamming the AMG door behind her.
I was getting into bed when Dr. Baker called me. He’d finished his tests on the deceased were-animal. The results only led to more questions. Too tired to contemplate, I went to sleep.
Sometime later, I woke to Josh calling me. The clock on my nightstand read two-thirty in the morning.
“Sky just called me and said there’s a dead body in her house.”
Fear raced through my body. I stiffened, suddenly alert. “Is she safe?”
“Yes. I’m heading there now.”
I growled, climbing out of the bed. “I’ll meet you there.”
That she’d called him and not me stung, but the dead body was a bigger concern. I doubted the body was one of Sean’s goons—he wouldn’t dare raise his head above ground for a long time to come, never if he was smart. Racing the AMG between cars on the highway, the identity of the mystery body occupied my mind. Reminding myself that Sky was safe did little to ease my anxiety.
Josh and I arrived at the same time. Each of us looked to the other for answers, then walked to the door. Sky answered. If she was surprised by my presence, she didn’t show it. Looking beyond her, I noticed a pool of blood congealing in the entryway. Fiona lay in a lifeless heap, like a doll casually discarded. A third scent lingered inside.
I stated, surprised, “Michaela was here.”
A defiant look came over Sky as she folded her arms over her chest. “I staked her.”
She threw a glance at Fiona’s body, as if the reason wasn’t obvious. Sky’s demeanor was stiff, defensive, as if she expected me to admonish her. Staking Michaela, the Mistress of the Northern Seethe, was definitely a problem. I didn’t need to hear the story to know that Michaela had come to confront Sky about Quell, leaving Fiona’s corpse as a warning. That the confrontation had happened here, in Sky’s home, made it difficult for anyone to lay the blame at her feet.
Demetrius wouldn’t get involved, but this wasn’t over with Michaela. The pressure of yet another reason to fear for Sky’s safety weighed on me.
I nodded, but kept my thoughts to myself while Josh went about his business. His magic enveloped Fiona. A moment later, she disappeared. He did the same with her blood. Once finished, he addressed Sky.
“Are you okay?”
She shrugged, but the struggle was plain in her expression: sorrow and anger mixed with pride, a complex cocktail that left her uncertain how to feel. “I’ll be fine,” she promised. “I just need to get some sleep.”
He squeezed her shoulder, gave her an empathetic look, then left. Alone together, I waited through a long silence until she started to fidget. Crossing to the couch, I sat, patted a cushion beside me. “Let’s talk.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Please.”
After a moment, her suspicion subsided. Before she could sit, I gently guided her into my lap.
“I just want to talk, okay?”
She curled into my lap, her head cradled into my neck.
“Tell me what happened.”
“She’d already killed Fiona,” Sky said in a distant voice that people often used when describing something traumatic. “She brought her here to make a point. She blames Quell for taking me from her, then blames me for taking Quell from her. She demanded that I somehow make Quell hers again, then she tried to kill me. So I killed her, almost. If she hadn’t asked me to save her, I would’ve let her die. I’d have been glad to watch her die. That wasn’t Maya,” she added in a rush. “That was all me. Watching her die while she begged…that was something else. I couldn’t do that.”
I nodded, relieved. I’d been the first to push Sky to harden herself in the face of a dangerous world, but I’d never wanted her to become a stone-cold killer.
“Are you in love with Quell?”
When she hesitated, I braced myself for a difficult answer. She shifted in my lap to meet my gaze, searching. Finding nothing, she tried to kiss me. I’d taught her that, using physical affection as a distraction. She learned fast. I almost smiled.
“I need an answer, Sky.”
“No, I don’t think I’m in love with him.” A vague answer, but not a lie. “But I hate Michaela and it is because of Quell. I hate the way she treats him. She was cruel to him for no other reason than she could be. She wants him to be a monster like her.”
He was a monster. He’d been a monster since the moment he’d first woken as a vampire. It took a great deal of control to not point that out.
Once more, she curled up in my lap. For a long moment, we listened to the beating of each other’s hearts.
“Skylar, things are a mess.”
She nodded, the wavy curls of her hair brushing against my neck.
“Has Dr. Jeremy found out anything about the were-animal?”
“Yeah.” I sighed, tightening my arms around her. Her body tensed in anticipation as she searched my eyes. “There was a synthetic virus in his system, similar to the one that’s found in us.”
“Someone’s trying to make were-animals?”
“Seems that way, but Dr. Baker thinks that whoever is responsible doesn’t want them to change, just take on the other characteristics of were-animals. That’s why his change was so difficult and he didn’t survive it.”
If Kelly hadn’t already been infected by the virus, she probably didn’t have long to wait. Whether Ethos was responsible was an open debate. After Dr. Baker’s news, I had my doubts. Creating a synthetic virus required a great deal of time. Ethos could probably accomplish something similar with magic. After all, we still didn’t know the limits of his powers. But if not Ethos, then who? The pack was surrounded by threats.
Sky said, “We have to find Kelly.”
“Gavin’s on it.” He hunted with tunnel vision. Now that he knew Kelly had been taken, that she was in danger, he would not stop or waver for a moment until he’d found her. There was a fight with Ethos on the horizon. His panther would be missed. “He won’t be any good to us now.”
With the Clostra in Ethos’s possession, our chances of survival were slim.
Sky waited for more information, but I had nothing else to explain.
“Let’s go to bed,” she whispered.
Rising, I carried her to the bedroom.
The next afternoon, Sky and I were at lunch when Josh called. He’d come up with a way to summon Ethos. His plan was questionable, but worth a try. He’d need help. Specifically, he needed London, his friend and occasional lover. As a level one witch, he was more powerful than her, but her skill set reached into some areas Josh’s didn’t. They’d been students together, until he’d decided to train on his own. I wondered sometimes if he’d regretted that choice. I knew little about her, but he trusted London implicitly, which was good enough for me.
Her help was not guaranteed. The last time they’d met, we’d asked her to help source blood that turned out to be Ethos’s. Afterward, she’d made it clear she wanted nothing more to do with Josh or the pack. Since she wouldn’t take his calls, or mine, we’d no choice but to show up at her door.
Josh met us at Sky’s and we drove together to London’s house.
The closer we got, his excitement faded into anxiousness at their impending reunion. Sky was on edge as well, anxiously anticipating another encounter with Ethos if the spell succeeded. In her bag, she held the bag with Ethos’s blood. It was a rare commodity, one she wasn’t keen to waste. As she alternated between stress and confidence, I tapped out the varying rhythm of her heartbeat against the steering wheel, my way of drawing her attention to her anxiety. For me, it was an amusing game. For her, it was annoying.
Eventually, she scowled. “Stop that.”
I grinned, continuing.
Rolling her eyes, she turned to Josh. “Why do you think this is a good idea?”
“Samuel made me think about it. If we are able to call Ethos like his friend was, then we have the advantage.”
“How is that going to help us get the Clostra back? You think he’s just carrying them around in a satchel or something?”
“Getting them back is secondary,” he insisted. “Ethos is the primary threat.”
I agreed.
“We’ve found the Clostra before,” he continued. “We can do it again.”
She remained skeptical.
London’s townhouse was located in a neighborhood popular with young professionals, who were out in force, walking their dogs and drinking coffee. I parked next to her VW Beetle in the driveway. When Josh didn’t get out of the car, Sky and I turned in the front seats to look at him.
I wasn’t used to seeing my brother’s confidence shaken. He stared at London’s door with a forlorn look, fully expecting to be excoriated. When he glanced at me, I nodded toward the door as encouragement.
He said in an accusatory tone, “She’s not speaking to me because we involved her that last time.”
I could take that blame.
“We don’t have a lot of options,” I said in a soothing voice. “You said we need to do it right the first time or Ethos will get suspicious. If you aren’t confident in your ability to do it, we have to get someone who can. Okay?”
He nodded slowly, building his resolve.
“She’ll be fine,” I promised. “It’ll be fine.”
After a fortifying breath, he let out a resigned sigh and climbed out of the car. Sky brought the sealed bag with Ethos’s blood and we followed him to London’s door. When he hesitated, I stepped in front of the peephole and knocked. After a faint shuffling from the other side, she didn’t answer. I knocked harder. She could turn us down, but I wasn’t going to leave until she’d heard us out. I was about to knock again when I noticed the slight shift in the window curtains, saw her peek out between them.
“London,” I said.
She quickly snapped the curtains shut.
A long moment later, I heard the reluctant release of two locks. The door opened. London was a small, slight woman with a rainbow-colored pixie cut. She wore faded jeans and a loose shirt that hinted at some of her many tattoos, an obsession she shared with Josh. Behind her stern expression, I saw a hint of excitement at seeing him. For his part, he was entirely at her mercy. Like me, my brother had a reputation when it came to women. With his looks and his charm, he found their attentions easy to obtain. They came and went and he never seemed to care, yet here he was, ready to prostrate himself. I didn’t mind seeing my brother humbled. It was a good look for him, on occasion.
