Moon Tortured (Sky Brooks Series Book 1) (28 page)

She looked at me again, then Sebastian. “If I kill her, the maximum punishment is exile from the pack,” she said softly.

“It is considered pack betrayal if a were-animal dies as a result of your direct disobedience to an order. The penalty is death,” he corrected her.

Winter’s face softened, her eyes gentle with a subtle defeat as they seemed to plead for leniency.

Sebastian took a deep breath, studying her intently. “Winter, if you kill her while I consider her protected, it is betrayal. I would recommend death and see that you die at my hands,” he responded in a crisp firm voice. “If you blatantly disobey my orders, then you are no good to me or the pack because you can no longer be trusted. You’ve always followed my orders loosely and interpreted our rules in ways that were questionable at best. But it was never a clear violation of my authority.”

She nodded once, looking hurt—really hurt. Subdued, she didn’t seem like herself. If I weren’t mistaken, her eyes seem to glisten from unshed tears. With her head down, she left the house.

At the moment, I battled with the love-hate relationship I had with pack laws and obligations. I hated how stringent they were, and yet at this moment, they were the only thing saving me from Winter’s wrath.

Ethan stood in the corner of the room. He had remained silent and expressionless, throughout the discussion. I fidgeted, wishing he would say something—anything. I didn’t know where he stood on the matter and something about the way he looked back at me indicated that he didn’t either.

The murmurs downstairs continued long after I had returned to the room. At times, the voices rose, fueled by passionate deliberations. I cracked the door but couldn’t make out all the words because they moved the conversation to the kitchen and further away from my room. I couldn’t stop my heart from racing. The sounds of the house, which for a short period had brought me a level of comfort, now scared me.

Winter had given a compelling argument for my execution. Ethan seemed to be on the fence, and heated discussions were taking place only steps from the room I stayed in. None of these things did much to help me feel safe. Sebastian claimed my life was protected. But as quickly as he had given that protection, could he remove it? This torture was no better than what Demetrius had planned for me. It was enough to drive me insane as I sat quietly in a room, questioning my fate at the hands of the were-animals. I shuddered at the thought of how easily my life could be taken upon Sebastian’s command. Did I still trust them that much?

CHAPTER 8

The discussions stopped about five that morning. I hadn’t slept. Instead, I watched as the sun broke through the darkness. With only my wallet, a few weapons and my keys, I opened the window and leapt out. I ran from the house as soon as my feet touched the ground. The sun shone brightly, which ensured that I wouldn’t be attacked by vampires. I felt confident that I could handle the garden thugs if they showed up. However, functioning on the ten-minute naps I had taken between the sounds of the house left me less than sharp.

I hadn’t formulated the best plan, but I was leaving anyway. I refused to sit around while everyone else decided my fate. If the vampires wanted me, they were going to have to search. I wouldn’t make it simple by sitting in the pack’s retreat. If the pack decided my life wasn’t worth protecting, killing me would be as easy as a walk upstairs to perform the execution.

I had enough money saved in my personal account to stay hidden for a while. Going home to pack wasn’t an option because that would be the first place they’d looked. I planned on going straight to the airport. My passport was tucked in my wallet. It was always with me. It was a neurotic obsession because I partly expected a village of torch-wielding people at any moment to come to our home once my werewolf was discovered. Although it was a silly expectation, today I was glad my neurosis had driven me to such paranoid preparation.

I followed the path of the driveway but stayed deeper into the wooded to stay hidden. I realized it wouldn’t be long before they discovered I was gone. The powerful smell of oak accompanied by the enticing smell of pine, was a pleasure to the olfactory but it also dulled them—I needed theirs dulled to make it harder to track me.

As I hurried through the dense arboreal area, I made sure to follow the path of the driveway. The clicking of tongue against teeth brought me to an abrupt stop. Damn.

“Here wolfie, wolfie,” called Gabriella’s grating voice. She appeared from behind the trees fully healed from Winter’s assault and still sporting the atrocious, orange-red hair. She looked weird—well, weirder in daylight. Her pale skin was a grayish opaque color, taking away from her previous attractiveness. I shuddered, scared and confused because I wasn’t aware that vampires could walk in the daylight. I had no idea what to make of this situation. She stayed close to the tree. I assumed she needed the shade. Taking steps back from her, I listened for Chase. If she were here, he wasn’t far behind. She smiled, exposing bloodstained fangs. What the hell was the vampires’ deal? Why didn’t they feel the need to wash away evidence that they had fed?

She smiled as she quickly advanced toward me. Her movements were quick but not as quick as I remembered. I had her by the throat by the time she was within striking distance. Fear worked in my favor, my actions came swift and precise. Pushing her hard, she landed with a thud against the tree she had come from. Turning quickly to my right, I plunged the stake into Chase. I didn’t have a chance to direct my strike and thought I missed his heart until he let out a ragged gasp and fell to the ground. The foul smell of necrosis filled the air as the reversion processes started. Taking out my knife, I prepared to decapitate my first vampire.

Gabriella grabbed me roughly and tossed me to the ground. I swiped her legs with mine and she crashed down next to me. Moving to my feet at what I thought was lightning speed, I still wasn’t fast enough to beat her.

“I don’t have time to play with you,” she lashed out, dragging me toward Chase. She pulled the stake out of him and slammed me hard against the tree next to him.

“Stay.” She pushed the stake through my right shoulder, impaling me to the tree. Taking the knife I dropped, she pierced it through my left hand. I screamed as tears blurred my vision.

Gabriella ran into the woods and came back quickly with a woman in her late twenties, dressed in running clothes. Her hands were bound with rope. She continued to struggle against Gabriella as she dragged her toward Chase. Her face was flushed from either screaming or crying, her eyes panicked with fear. She was covered in dirt. They must have grabbed her early this morning and kept her stashed in the woods. Gabriella loosened the bindings, and when the girl fought back, she hit her hard several times until she was unconscious. I moved forward from the tree, trying to loosen the knife or stake. Sharp wrenching pain overwhelmed me as I twisted and lurched in an attempt to dislodge at least one of them.

Chase took the girl’s wrist into his mouth, pulling his lip back he sunk his teeth in and began to feed. I looked away, the sounds of him hungrily drawing blood from the poor woman made my stomach queasy. It took a long time—too long as he drained the woman of her life.

Once finished, he stood up, looking good as new, the lifeless body lying at his feet. A rivulet of his recent feeding ran down his chin; Gabriella wiped it away with her thumb and then her tongue slivered out to lick it. “Welcome back,” she said, pleased. When he exposed his blood-covered teeth, terror swept over me. The horrible duo, reunited again. Ignoring the pain, I moved frantically from the tree, trying hard to release myself, disregarding whatever damage I was causing to the soft tissue.

“The big wolf is coming,” Chase stated with a grimace, turning slowly as he scanned his surroundings. Gabriella smiled and started to walk toward me. He grabbed her hand, “We won’t be able to take her now.”

“No. We have to take her now,” she urged, taking several steps toward me.

“The big wolf is here,” Chase repeated in a strained voice. His lips turned into a grim sneer as he tugged her toward him. Then they disappeared. Staring at the empty space where they once stood, I came to the painful realization that I knew very little of vampires’ strengths, weaknesses and gifts, which made them an even bigger danger to me. I laid my head against the tree. The wolf was definitely here. I could feel his anger smothering me. My throat began to close, fearing my encounter with the angry wolf.

Once he was in my line of sight, I prepared myself for an enraged rampage but instead Ethan seemed unusually calm as he walked toward me. His face showed signs that he was working hard to achieve that level of control.

“Inhale,” he instructed me, his face inches from mine. “Now exhale.” As the air slowly escaped from me, he simultaneously pulled the stake and knife out. I wailed as gushes of blood spewed onto his shirt. I leaned against him, gasping for breath. His body was rigid as he held me against him until I could stand on my own. Once the pain had subsided to barely excruciating, Ethan stepped away from me. I doubled over, trying to catch my breath, fighting the bile that crept up. I was becoming too acquainted with pain and it was quite annoying.

“Look to see if there are others,” he commanded Steven, a were-dingo, a were-jackal and a were-panther, who were unfamiliar to me. They moved quickly, with the exception of the were-panther who snarled then licked his lips. His short black fur shimmered in the light as he stalked toward me responding willingly to the smell of blood and fear that inundated the air. Deep aggressive rumbles reverberated as his tongue darted out of his mouth licking his lips. It took a step closer; Steven growled angrily, abandoning his undertaking and returning to stand next to me.

“Gavin, she’s under our protection,” Ethan stated firmly. The rumble came again deeper and more forceful. Ethan’s stance changed as he raised a brow; flashes of gray swept across his pupils. The panther stared at him for a moment then roared violently. Ethan took a step closer, crouched and growled the most inhuman vicious sound I ever heard. Dropping his shoulder in recoil, the panther slowly backed away.

I leaned against the tree, wiggling my fingers, touching each finger to my thumb. I moved my shoulder up, to the side and back as shrill pain shot through me with each movement. Everything hurt like hell, but at least they still worked and there wasn’t any apparent nerve damage. Ethan glanced in my direction several times but still hadn’t spoken to me. I assumed he realized that if he did, he would succumb to rage and Joan wasn’t here to intervene or coerce him into behaving civilized.

We walked back to the house, my wounds throbbing as we weaved our way across the unleveled terrain. Ethan’s emotions were worn sufficiently on his face as the muscles of his neck and face strained as he fought to keep it together. Josh met us halfway in his Jeep and I sat next to him. Ethan sat in the back. I could feel his wrathful glare on me during the drive back.

Ethan jumped out of the car before it could come to a full stop refusing to look in my direction or even speak to me. “Chase and Gabriella left a body on the property. All evidence of it needs to be removed. You need to do your thing,” he stated, his voice becoming harsher with each word. When he finally turned to look at me, I wished he hadn’t. A torrential wave of rage filled the space between us. I knew then that if Sebastian, at that moment, lifted his order of protection, it wouldn’t be Winter I would have to worry about.

Josh must have sensed the anger and violence brewing in Ethan as well because he stepped between us and stayed there until Ethan disappeared into the house. Then he quickly took me to Dr. Baker’s office.

Dr. Baker took one look at my shoulder and shook his head. “Silly, silly girl,” he scolded as he palpated the area, abandoning any pretense of gentleness with each touch. Each time I winced, he grumbled an insincere apology under his breath and pulled my arm back.

As he poked and prodded around the wounds, I flinched, periodically drawing my hand back but he kept a firm grasp on it. “I’m sorry, but these types of wounds have a tendency to cause pain with touch. That’s why we try not to get staked or stabbed,” he said, irritated. He was angry with me. I had managed to anger a person who had patience and compassion like nobody I had seen, well, in this house, anyway. Okay, I definitely see why some of them wanted to kill me.

He tore the remainder of my shirt off and let out a chain of irritated sounds. As he examined the shoulder, I didn’t need to look at his face to know it was a mess. My fingers were still numb and the shoulder throbbed like hell.