Moon Tortured (Sky Brooks Series Book 1) (37 page)

“Have you always felt this way about the moon calling?” I asked.

He knelt down, his gaze meeting mine with a thought-provoked smile. “My affection for Joan had to grow and I love her more than I thought I would be capable of, but my feeling for the moon was immediate,” he admitted. “When it calls, it’s the one time when you transform into your animal and allow yourself to give in fully to the primal urge of your beast.”

“You enjoy this? Giving into it, being driven by urges and needs that aren’t your own?”

“But they are
our
urges. Deny them, and when it is unleashed, the results are horrific. Embrace it, and the animal is tamed by you,” he admitted in a low drawl.

“I hate the feeling that I am not in control of my body and actions. The first and only time I changed in an uncontrolled environment, I woke up next to a deer that I savagely attacked. My control lost to a point it disturbed me. I gave in to primal urges that I knew were not my own.”

He moved, positioning himself in front of me, his appearance hauntingly gentle. “You lack control because you choose to live as though your animal-half and human-half were two different entities. You will never gain that control when you live that way. I don’t know how to show you how to do this. It’s a matter of acceptance on your part.”

He sat back on his heels. “There are many of us who have control issues, but it’s not the animal that’s the problem—it’s the person. Just like you find typical humans with rage issues, there are were-animals with them as well. It’s not the animal that is losing control—it’s the person inside, allowing it to take that control. It is their desire to be led only by primal urges. I’ve never known that lack of control. I think it has a lot to do with being a changed rather than innate were-animal. I’ve found that they seem to have to work harder at control. They have a greater affinity toward the animal, allowing it to have more control than necessary,” he informed me, his hand briefly touching mine.

“So when you ripped into that vampire, you were in control the whole time?” I inquired doubtfully.

The smile on his face exuded so much innocence that I provided my own answer. He had to have lost control at least a little. No one would be capable of that level of carnage without being driven by something inhuman.

“I’m a killer, Skylar.”

His acknowledgment felt like a sucker punch to the gut. “You are not a killer.” Because of unavoidable circumstances, he had killed; I had done the same, but I refused to consider myself a killer. What self-respecting person would want to?

“I kill when necessary, and I make no apologies for it.”

There was a long uncomfortable silence between us, and I tried to figure out how I felt about the self-proclaimed killer who slept in my room every night, the coyote who I witnessed kill without remorse and whose smile and warm demeanor made me want to ignore it all.

He gave me a determined look as he responded to my discomfort. “Are you afraid?” he challenged.

Considering his question, I took a long time to think about it. “No. Not of you,” I admitted in a small voice. Maybe it wasn’t the wisest thing, but I couldn’t help it. “I can’t be afraid of you. These days, you are one of the few people who comfort me.”

He nodded once, “Skylar, I am a predator and so are you. I just give into mine, while you hide from yours. We are all capable of some horrible things. I’ve done some horrible things that I would do again if necessary. I need you to never forget that ... ”

“ … I get it. You’ve made that perfectly clear; you’re an remorseless killer,” I stated sharply.

“Skylar, the sooner you recognize this, the better off you will be. You will be faced with people who are like me. Don’t assume they are harmless. Know that as easily as I killed that vampire and that lone were-animal, I have killed others with little regard. They will be capable of the same. I tell you this for your safety,” he stated earnestly.

My voice dropped to a saddened whisper. “I get it, you’re a predator and a killer, and I should never forget this," I responded, disillusioned and angered by it.

He stared at me with full concentration as he held my gaze. “You shouldn’t.”

There was another long tense silence between us that made things too uncomfortable for my liking. “Should I be afraid of you?”

The long silence was quite discouraging, “If it is in my control, I will never do anything to hurt you,” he stated straightforwardly.

That wasn’t the ringing confirmation I was looking for, but that was what he could offer. Being part of a pack, some decisions where not his own, they were demands he had to follow. “Why is that?”

He shrugged and then smiled. “I like you. You are … ” he searched for the right words “ … odd and have the self-preservation skills of a bunny. But you are kind and untainted by this world. I feel you could use a friend.”

“I really could,” I acknowledged to the teenager with the olive green eyes who somehow possessed the gift of showing gentleness and malevolence simultaneously.

He gave me a quick pat on the knee. He tried to stand but I took hold of his arm. I didn’t want him to go. He lowered himself back to the floor and leaned back against the wall next to me. We stayed there in silence as I tried to find the same comfort that the call of the moon brought him.

Sebastian was the first to change into wolf form. Ethan followed, then approximately thirty other canidae pack members. The full moon called in the deep of the night and they willingly answered and, for the first time in my life, so did I.

The night was colored by a crescendo of melodious howls that resonated throughout the thick woodlands as we ran throughout the vast area with unbridled freedom. The large oak trees waved in the breeze, the grass hummed under our feet and ebullience radiated throughout the space. Was this what it should have felt like answering to moon? What had I denied myself all those years hiding and subduing this side of me?

I had surrendered to the joy and reveled in the pleasure of something I had denied myself far too long, when the deep musical howls stopped abruptly. The padding of joyous paws against the grassy terrain became hard bounds against the earth. The euphonious sounds were replaced by Sebastian’s angry growl. The pack reversed and starting sprinting back to the retreat. I couldn’t see what was going on, but when a surge of anger and hostility washed over me, I knew it couldn’t be good. I pulled back toward the trees aware that my dark gray coat did not blend well with them and would not keep me hidden. But as the others surrounded me, it made it difficult to pick me out. They emerged, their faces pale and eyes various shades of crimson and black onyx. Baring their fangs, they held choice weapons from crossbow, swords and even guns. We were being attacked. Sebastian charged first, taking out two vamps before hitting the ground. He caught one quickly by the throat, the other fell victim to his claws. He stalked deeper into the woods, responding to the sounds of rustling trees exposing the location of more vamps. Ethan killed several vampires as well, shredding them into pieces, before he crashed to the ground panting, his body convulsing, as he reverted into human form. I heard invocations coming from the left of the woods. As the commands came faster, pushing magic stronger than anything I felt with Josh, the other were-animals, including me, crashed to the ground, jerking violently as we were forced back into human form.

My gaze followed the sound; hidden within the coppice were four witches, fingers entwined as they continued chanting, forcing us back into human form.

Ethan saw them just as I did and started running towards them, but before he could reach them, they disappeared, leaving the were-animals weaponless and more vulnerable to the vampire attack. Ethan was right; the vampires had gone through great lengths to get to me, including becoming indebted to witches strong enough to perform a reversion spell.

In the midst of the commotion, as the others continued with their transition to human form, Winter ran toward us at speeds that made the vampire motion seem slow. She held a sword and severed the head of one vampire in mid flip. Her sword moved rhythmically with her, like a dance partner with whom she held the lead. She took out the legs of another as she landed before beheading him. Her movements were so graceful and riveting it could easily be described as art if it weren’t so violent. Between the wrist guard and her sword, she had taken out four vampires and was working on a fifth. A group of vampires began to part like the red sea. Through the midst of the vampires walked the man from my nightmares—Demetrius. He was more terrifying in person. He held a sword as he walked toward Winter.

Her face that once held immense confidence went blank. The closer he got, the more terrified she looked. He proceeded slowly, prolonging the terror as a sadistic smile covered his face. When he was close to her, he swung, and she barely blocked it from striking her. She went from being an aggressive fighter to defensive prey. She stumbled and fumbled her way through the fight, losing the poetry in motion that distinguished her skills. When the last strike sent her sword flying across the forest, she protected herself with the wrist guard. The sword caught her on the shoulder. She screamed, the pain kicking in her survival instincts. Dropping down, she kicked his legs from under him. He fell but recovered quickly before she could attack. He grabbed her, and then tossed her back several feet with minimal effort as though he were handling a child’s doll.

He was advancing toward her when Steven, still in coyote form, lunged at him. Jamming the sword upward in a semi-circle motion, it pierced Steven’s torso and slid through his abdomen as though it were going through butter. Steven plummeted to the ground, crying out in agony. It was a sound so torturously painful, I could go another lifetime without hearing it. He lay on the ground panting hard as he changed back into human form exposing the full gruesome details of his wound. Demetrius walked over, pushed the sword further through his stomach and twisted. Steven’s face trembled, his body shuddering but he didn’t cry out, refusing to give Demetrius the satisfaction of his pain. With a smug look on his face, Demetrius pulled it out and started toward Winter.

The smell of Steven’s blood and distant whimpers of pain flooded the air. Josh suddenly appeared with swords, crossbows, and other weapons for the defenseless were-animals. He toss a sword to Sebastian, who grabbed it in midair. Brutal anger settled on Sebastian’s face as he stalked toward Demetrius. He also picked up the sword that Winter had lost earlier. He twirled both in unison, demonstrating his exceptional swordsmanship. I wasn’t sure if he did it as a warm-up or an attempt to intimidate Demetrius. If it were the latter, the affect was lost on him. The vampire held a look of complete satisfaction as though he were now presented with a worthy opponent.

They fought intensely but not a single stroke made contact on either of them. The sword fight seemed to last forever as they moved quickly and strategically attacked each other in ways that would have ended the life of an inferior fighter.

As I watched, I inched further and further away from the cloak of night toward Steven. I needed to help him.

“Skylar!” called Winter frantically from across the woods, running toward me. I didn’t turn to look at whatever she was warning me about; I just started running toward her. But it was too late. A firm grasp took hold of my arm. Spinning on my heels, I struck at the vampire’s face, but she blocked it with little effort as she grabbed my other arm. I tried to wrench it away from her but couldn’t break her hold. Gavin moved toward us but wasn’t able to get close enough before she pulled me to her, securing my arms against my body. “It’s over,” she whispered.

Then we vanished.

In minutes, we were standing in the basement of the seethe’s home. The vertigo hit and my head spun, a horrible reaction to my magical voyage. Just as the room came to a manageable still, the dark-haired vampire pushed me to the ground. As she circling me, I spun on my butt to keep an eye on her. The door was only a couple of feet away, but I doubt I could make it there before she stopped me. Standing, I forced a display of courage under the watchful leer of a predator.

She smiled, stepping toward me until she was just inches away. “Welcome, Skylar,” said the dark-haired vampire in such a pleasant tone one could easily believe she meant it.

“And you are?”

Her lips turned up into an angelic smile. “Michaela.”

Great, the seethe Mistress. Any hopes I had of fighting my way out dwindled. I didn’t know a lot about the vampire’s mistress, but I was sure she didn’t get the position and maintain it by being sweet, understanding and benevolent. I inched toward the door. “You won’t make it,” she calmly warned. “I won’t kill you, but I will make you wish I would have,” she continued in a mellifluous tone.

I stopped moving. “That’s a good girl.”

“I haven’t been a girl for a long time,” I stated, surreptitiously looking around the basement for the gem. It had to be close, since they planned to perform the ritual soon.

“You haven’t been in this world long enough to be considered much more,” she stated amused. I guess when you are a hundred-plus years, a little less than a quarter of a century is still considered one’s youth.

Her head tilted slightly as she stared at me for an uncomfortably long time. “The others will be here soon, and you will be dead not long after. I wish I could say it will be quick and painless but it will be neither,” she stated honestly. Her tone was soft with a subtle nuance of kindness, but the little gleam of joy and excitement that danced in her eyes betrayed her.