Lunar Marked (Sky Brooks Series Book 4) (13 page)

“Yes,” Abigail said, barely turning her head in my direction, keeping her focus on Winter. Her entreating eyes and delicate features belied the power-thirsty ice princess who kept a handle on politics and the strings that controlled her brother, as well as her skills of manipulating the weather as an elemental elf

Abigail’s eyebrows furrowed. “Sebastian didn’t tell you?” She chuckled. “Of course he hasn’t.” She sighed and then rolled her eyes. “I forgot, I’ve been ordered to stay away from you.”

At Winter’s silence, Abigail continued, amused. “He seems to believe his control extends further than the pack. Perhaps he felt one way of ensuring that was to make sure we are never around each other. Your pack has been very busy cleaning up Liam’s mess.”

“Are the wards up?” I asked.

“Yes, the ones to Elysian and to the dark forest are in place and I hope they hold this time. My brother and the others have taken notice. This is a problem, something that I am sure would not have happened if my brother were in control of the
Makellos
.” I held my tongue and didn’t tell her it would have.

Winter was the first one to stand, declining Abigail’s invitation to stay longer. She hadn’t looked at Abigail for most of the visit, and it bothered Abigail. We had more things to worry about than Abigail’s hurt feelings. I couldn’t help but wonder when we would find ourselves faced with a taloned creature that had escaped from the dark forest and was wreaking havoc on the city.

* * *

I
t was
close to eleven at night and I had given up on the idea that I would hear from Ethan or Sebastian regarding the information Abigail gave us today. My mind kept revisiting everything that went on earlier and the things that had occurred since we removed the curse. The ward was back up in the dark forest, that was good. I really didn’t care if Elysian was exposed; it would serve those snobs right if people just starting visiting it like it was the new local weekend resort. It was a beautiful place that they had created just for them. Their egos wouldn’t take the idea that mere humans were enjoying their things. They didn’t want elves that were half human or any part human near it. Elysian was to be enjoyed by those considered pure and untainted by what they considered the weakest, humans.

The jackal that was able to perform magic, the
manimal
,
unrestricted Tre’ase, and vampires that were no longer inhibited by sunlight were on the list of the new things that had occurred in the past two weeks. I conceded. Claudia was right, we should have the Clostra. We needed to fix this, and without all three books, I wasn’t sure how we would.

Steven was in his room. Any other time I would have been there with him or he would have been in here but he spent most of the time packing. Stay away from Quell. That was all I needed to do and my life would get easier. It was hard letting go of him: as much as I believed I was there to help him, he was there to help me. David kept me anchored to humanity, and Quell helped me stay firmly in the middle, away from a darker side that seemed to be at every corner.

Steven’s moving out seemed to be going faster than his arrival. When he moved in, it was a molasses-slow transition. He slowly moved his things in, infiltrating my space day by day until I realized more of his things were in my home than his, and before I knew it I had a housemate. At first I minded it, but it didn’t take long for me to like having him here.

Sitting up in my bed, I scanned my laptop. Gibberish jumped off the pages. I had been distracted, and the assessment that I was working on for my job reflected it. It wasn’t my best work and would probably shatter the fragile existence of said job. With a deadline in forty-eight hours I didn’t have the luxury of procrastination. I deleted the pages and started typing trying to put together a coherent evaluation of the private practice that I had assessed a couple of days ago.

I
heard
the thunderous sound of a door breaking open—I assumed my front door—and then the window in my room shattered, spraying glass. Several fragments became imbedded into my arm as I attempted to protect my eyes. I tossed my laptop aside and leapt for the sword. A man swung through the window, his gun aimed at me. I lunged to the side as bullets whizzed past me. I was at an awkward angle when I swung the sword but was able to thrust with enough force to sever the arm. Blood spurted as it dropped in front of me. Howling in pain, the man lunged at me; a side toss got him out the way in time for me to grab the arm of the other man as his elbow jutted into my face and he jerked the sword out of my hand. Grasping his arm, I pulled it into extension and jabbed my fist into the joint, breaking it. He stumbled back, and I thrusted the palm of my hand into his nose, swiped his leg, and kicked the gun he dropped out of his reach.

I doubt I would get any answers, but before I could question them, I responded to the sound of wood splintering, drywall smashing, and brutal fighting coming from the other room. Sword in hand I ran, moving around the pools of blood on the floor. The crashing sound magnified, and when I got to the living room there was a man on the ground, his throat open, a butcher knife tossed at his feet. Another man’s head was turned at an odd angle, motionless, a few feet from Steven. He had a third man in a chokehold. The seconds crawled by and eventually the man lay withered at Steven’s feet.

Steven stood and whipped around in my direction, feral as gold rolled over his eyes, lips drawn back, a vicious growl vibrating in his chest. Calming him down wasn’t an option, I needed him fight ready. We waited for more, and after several minutes, standing in defensive stances prepared to fight, it seemed like that was it. Five men sent to my home, but we weren’t sure if it was for both of us or one in particular.

Three out of the five men who attempted to ambush us were alive. The man whose arm I severed wasn’t any use, drifting in and out of consciousness. The man with the broken arm had been secured with belts and ropes and sat against the wall refusing to talk to us. The guy Steven had rendered unconscious was bound, too, but tight-lipped.

“Who sent you?” Steven asked after checking them for any identifying information. Nothing.

The man whose arm I broke seemed to be the leader, and if the other ones looked like they were prepared to speak, one glare from him and they reconsidered.

“Who fucking sent you?” Steven demanded. He slammed the man’s head into the wall.

Steven’s breathing still hadn’t returned to normal. Ragged growl-like sounds escaped with each expiration. Now more beast than man, I expected him to shift into his coyote, but he didn’t. Gently touching his arm, I covered his hand, forcing myself to calm hoping it would affect him. If he killed them, we wouldn’t find out anything and he looked like he was just moments from doing just that. By the time he was calm enough to interrogate them again, Sebastian walked in.

Broken Arm’s stern, defiant look faltered at the sight of Sebastian. Steven could be ferocious, having a limited but symbiotic relationship with his animal that allowed remnants of his humanity to peek through. There was a glimpse of hope that he was capable of clemency—even mercy. Sebastian’s bestial ways shrouded his humanity nearly into obscurity, giving you the impression that interaction would never be anything other than primal, stripped to its very essence. He possessed no mercy to give, and it showed profoundly on his face.

He walked closer, grabbing the knife off the floor, with the look of annoyance and anger expected from anyone who was awakened from his bed at one in the morning. He inched closer to Broken Arm and then knelt down to eye level with him, his glare hard enough to cut diamonds. Sebastian held the knife casually at his side, but I knew not to underestimate his lethalness with any sharp object. I’d seen him at work with a sword—skills and speed that would rival a machine’s.

Sebastian’s voice was so soft it could have induced a tranquil calm. But Broken Arm wasn’t comforted by it. Perhaps he had dealt with people enough to know there was always a calm before the storm and he was preparing himself for Sebastian’s wrath. Like a gentle snow, before you are hit by a blizzard that you may not survive.

He looked over at the guy whose arm was severed and looked stricken by a new fear.

Sebastian was gentler than I expected, but I guess he didn’t need to yell or sound angry while holding a knife that was positioned in a manner to cause damage at whim.

“There were five, now you have three. I am prepared to allow all three to walk out of here—I am also prepared
not
to. Who sent you?”

The man’s lips tightened for a mere second; he looked at the knife in Sebastian’s hand then made an effort to hold his gaze. A hapless endeavor, because most people couldn’t hold it—most people didn’t want to.

“I don’t know who actually paid us. We had an intermediary.”

“Who was that?”

Broken Arm inhaled a ragged breath as his eyes roved over the room at his fallen partners, the blood-soaked carpet, and back to Sebastian’s stone-set face that hadn’t faltered once since he had positioned himself in front of him. The cognac-colored eyes could switch from warm and gentle to hard and cold in just a blink.

“Sean,” he said.

Sean was the new hunter of choice since Chris had been changed. She had been the go-to person for anything needed because she was the best. Upon her transition, Sean and Ann emerged as her replacements and together didn’t seem as good or effective as Chris. Sean was the worst; his combination of arrogance and incompetence made him more of a danger than a help in the otherworld. We’d met him last year when we were looking for other Tre’ases in the area. He didn’t know who Ethan was. How did he expect to function without knowing the chain of command of the largest pack in the world and not being able to identify them?

“What were your orders?” Sebastian asked.

“I’m not sure what you are asking.” I could hear his heartbeat from across the room.

“Was it just to kill her? Did they want proof of death? Did they want the body?”

“Dead and proof,” he said evasively.

The bile crept up, catching my breath.
Proof. What suffices as “proof of murder”? An arm? Leg? Head?

Feeling the blood drain from my face, I started to feel light-headed. I rested against the counter.

“You have five minutes. Take your men and get out.” The man scrambled to his feet, taking the armless man with him. The other guy was still groggy and staggered out behind them.

Once they were gone Steven asked, “Why not send Chris? She usually handles jobs like this and quite efficiently. Why deal with them? Do you think it was a warning?”

“No, it wasn’t a warning. Chris wouldn’t have taken that job,” Sebastian said casually.

“Really? Why not?” I figured the money wasn’t enough. Chris made it very clear that for the right price, she could be bought. But whatever she was charging had to be less than hiring a five-man team.

“Ethan feels confident that she won’t hurt you no matter what is offered.” He shrugged.

I couldn’t help but be flattered because no one had been given such honors, even Ethan and he was her ex. And a vampire who was a sharpshooter as an ally was one of the few things in my life that I was very happy about. I gained a friend in Chris but made an enemy in Logan. Worth it.

“You can’t stay here. Pack a bag.”

“Where am I going?”

“With me.”

“I can go to Winter’s,” I offered. I’d experienced Sebastian’s brand of protection more than once, and it always involved me being locked in. I just couldn’t deal with his level of security.

Sebastian’s lips pressed into a stern line, and my small smile wasn’t going to make them relax. He studied me for a few moments, which became a long stretch of silence. With a roll of his eyes, he dismissed me as you would a petulant child.

I pressed the issue. “If it is about my safety, her home is as safe as an armory.” It was dangerous if you weren’t welcomed and not lacking for weapons of any sort. Looking for a sword? Check the closet. A gun? Pick a drawer and the odds were in your favor you would find one. Need a knife? Pick a cabinet drawer or oddly placed console and you will find one in it. And if you were short on time, just move any table, sofa, or ottoman aside and you’d find something that could hurt, mutilate, or kill someone.

“I didn’t give you that option. Now go pack.”

I looked in Steven’s direction. He was still leaning against the wall, the dark cast of his features making him look hard, overshadowing his cherub looks. “He’s not safe here, either,” I said to Sebastian and then directed my attention back to Steven.

“Don’t worry about me, I am leaving, too. I’ll stay at my new place.”

I didn’t know how long I would be gone and when I got back, Steven may have moved all his things out and be officially gone. I convinced myself that the bile that crept up was from the smell of blood, fear, and death, but it wasn’t. When I returned, Steven would be gone and it bothered me. For days, I had convinced myself that it wasn’t going to happen and we would work it out at the last moment. I clung to the hope that at the last minute, this fight, like the rest of them would end with him flicking my ear and then a quick side hug. It was as good as a heartfelt apology—but it hadn’t happened. This was it. No apologies. He was leaving.