Moon Tortured (Sky Brooks Series Book 1) (7 page)

I smiled, “You’re right.” I grabbed the “VAMPIRE” book, pressed it to my chest and started for the door. He snatched the book out my hand before I had taken any steps toward the door. He stopped before placing it back on the table, smiled and then handed the book back to me. “It’ll be good night reading for you.”

With his hand in the middle of my back, he guided me out then locked the door behind us. He escorted me to the bedroom door to make sure I didn’t make any more detours during my return. He dismissed me with cool goodbye.

“Skylar,” he called before I closed the door. “The next time you decide to sneak around the house, you should be a little quieter. You sound like a herd of stampeding elephants when you walk,” he stated.

It was my turn to laugh. He had just
won
the jackass award.

I didn’t sleep; instead, I stayed up brushing up on my knowledge of the things that were hunting me, or rather brushing up on the
most
horrid of the things that hunted me. This wasn’t just a book of all the vampires but a written account of the worst of their kind. Page by page, I read about vampires that were so horrific, vile and cruel that a book was created for it to be documented. I tried to remember each name, burn it to memory. But by the time I had gotten to the page 50, all the names were a blur. Chase had made it among the
horribles
because he had a preference for staying to a bloodline. On any given day, he would feed off a family, not just one or two but families of five or more just for the sheer horror of it.

Then there was Sable, who slashed her victims into pieces, draining them into bottles for later consumption. She kept them alive until their body gave up their fight to endure more. Trevor liked children; Clover enjoyed feeding from pregnant women. Elera, during her first week as a vampire, killed over twenty-five people, unable to control her lust. Today, thirty years later, she still had that problem. Demetrius—ugh, where do I start? He killed the last two Midwest Alphas and was responsible for creating over half of his seethe by himself, which was over three hundred strong. He had enslaved people and kept them in barns like cattle, slaughtering them when he was hungry. He did this until the last Alpha stopped him. But his most heinous act was the creation of his mistress, Michaela. She was the worst of his creations. Drawn to the psychopaths of the world, not only did she revere them, but thought it was a good idea to give them superstrength and eternal life by making them vampires. Most of the more monstrous acts were done by her progeny.

As I stared at the book, I didn’t know how to categorize them in mind. Did I rank them according to how many they had killed or by how heinousness the act? Now I was truly aware of how horrible the things were that haunted me. And I think that was Ethan’s point.

My mind’s overzealous desire to store all the atrocious information about the vampires kept me from going to sleep. It wasn’t until five a.m. that I slipped into a nightmare riddled slumber. At nine, I was awakened by knocking at the door. Scattered at the threshold were my laptop and e-reader along with a small bag full of fashion and celebrity magazines. I left the bag of magazines outside my door. I bludgeoned my nose to spite my face but I couldn’t give Ethan the satisfaction of knowing I indulged in such frivolity. But an hour later, I brought the bag in. I didn’t care what he thought of me.

CHAPTER 3

“It’s dinner time. Come.” Joan stated, walking into my room after knocking and entering without waiting for an invitation. It was clear she wasn’t going to accept another declination. I had been there for three days now and declined joining them for breakfast, lunch and dinner each time I was invited.

She took me by the elbow and led me into the dining room.

Ten people were at the table: Sebastian at the head, Ethan to his right and Winter to his left. She was the only one who acknowledged my arrival. Well, she did that weird eye thing followed by a weirder tongue thing. A thin, forked serpent tongue darted out of her mouth and back so fast, it could have been easily missed. A deep growl came from Sebastian as he cut his eyes at her. She straightened, grimaced and turned her focus from me.

Steven smiled at me and stood to pull the chair out for me.

I thanked him, grateful for his presence. He reminded me of Joan with his ability to make you feel welcomed in a less-than-hospitable environment. I sat down and he pulled out the chair for Joan to sit next to me.

“Thank you for joining us,” Sebastian stated stiffly. He sounded polite but insincere. I am sure Joan had something to do with his regards to my presence at dinner.

“Thank you for inviting me,” I responded with the same politeness and insincerity. I didn’t want to be there. Everything about them was unsettling, especially how strikingly attractive yet tragically dangerous they were.

Sebastian was, in fact, just beautiful and there was no way around that description. It pained me to admit it. I usually reserve such high compliments for those who exhibit such attributes both inwardly and outwardly. His personality was far from beautiful, yet describing him as handsome seemed inadequate. He sat there with an impassive smile that could quickly switch to a contemptuous scowl. His alluring features kept your interest far too long and begrudgingly, I have to admit it, personality aside, Sebastian was indeed beautiful.

Winter, with her uninviting stare and harsh ways, probably stopped traffic on occasions. Her complexion, flawless and sun kissed. Long black hair surrounded her delicate round face while cold hazel eyes made looking at her a task. She looked of Middle Eastern or Egyptian descent. Her physique was statuesque and her movements were smooth, rhythmic and sinuous like the animal she shared her body with.

I looked around the table at the various faces of the other were-animals, taking note of the appeal they exuded. Not all of them could be considered beautiful or striking, but they were, by far, more attractive than most people. Too attractive for one to believe they were part animal. I couldn’t quite figure what made them so besotting. I kept my eyes on my plate. Looking at them was like watching a predator on the animal channel. The prey far too often stood gazing at the predator, mesmerized by the fluidity of their walk, captivated by the intensity of their stare, disabled by fear and too enthralled by the predator’s dance to run, as they should. The end result: the unsuspecting prey was attacked and killed by the menacing predator. I sat at the dinner table just as captivated as any prey could be.

They attempted to make me feel welcomed. But I couldn’t ignore the quick glances, avid looks of curiosity and lingering stares that didn’t subtlety state but silently screamed:
What’s so special about her? What is the link between her and the vampires? Why do they want her? What’s wrong with her?

Sebastian and Ethan were the only ones who kept their expressions vacuous, void of the queries that weighed down their pack.

“We are going for a run after dinner. Join us.” Sebastian stated toward the end of dinner. I considered declining, but the expectant look he cast in my direction gave me the impression that it wouldn’t be a good idea.

After dinner, everyone, with the exception of Winter, went to the back of the house. I stood next to Joan, waiting for instructions, but no one said anything. Instead, Sebastian began to remove his shirt and the others followed. Within minutes, I was surrounded by naked male and female bodies.

Shock by their reckless abandonment of modesty and discretion, I gawked at them. Joan leaned over. “They’re a group of physically appealing people. Modest, they are not. They would drop their trousers on the highway during rush hour if it were legal.” I would have been amused by her observation if I weren’t so taken aback by what was happening.

They began to change into their animal forms. There were three other wolves besides Sebastian and Ethan, two coyotes and something that looked like a dog, maybe a jackal. Another strange animal stood to my right with bleached pale willowy fur and deep jasper eyes. It was a dimorphism of wolf and dog and the most exotic of the bunch. Joan remained dressed and next to me until Ethan started to walk toward us.

She took his arrival as her cue to leave. I quickly took hold of her arm. “Where are you going?” I hissed in low, anxious voice.

“I’m going to join Winter inside. I don’t belong here. It is time for you to interact with others of your family,” she stated.

“Family?”

“Wolves, dear. You’ve been a lone wolf far too long. Take this opportunity to bond with the wolf within and your family members,” she suggested with a gentle smile, gently pulling from my firm hold.

“Steven’s not a wolf and I am pretty sure they aren’t either,” I stated pointing to the jackal and white-furred wolf dog—or whatever it was.

“Steven’s a coyote, canis lantrum, a smaller member of the family. And that’s Bryce, he’s a jackal, canis aurueus, part of your family as well. He’s new to the position, impulsive but nice. And the beautiful, white-furred animal over there is Hannah, an albino dingo, canis lupus dingo. She is rarest of us all and your distant relative. You are all canidae and family,” she stated.

She pulled her hand away. “Go play with your family,” she said sweetly.

Play?
Maybe I had no idea what
running
or
playing
with my family was, but I was pretty sure I didn’t want any part of it. Looking at the animals that stood around me didn’t put me in the mindset of playing at all, unless running for your life was some version of a game.

Ethan stood in front of me speaking while I busied myself averting my eyes from his nudity. Trying not to make a spectacle of myself, I forced eye contact with him. In his clothes, he looked fit, but naked, he was sculpted like a statue. Lean, defined ripples of muscles ran along his body. I was a wolf too but even when I worked out regularly, I could only be described as toned. There weren’t ripples of muscles anywhere on my body. Ethan’s physique was the result of wolf genes and hard gym work. He stood in front of me, confidently, lacking any signs of discomfort or reticence with his nudity, which was fine. I was uncomfortable enough for both of us.

“Change,” he insisted.

I closed my eyes and concentrated, but I couldn’t.

“It’ll be easier if your clothes didn’t restrict you. It usually hurts when you have to tear through them,” he informed me.

I didn’t care how natural or normal this was for them; standing in the backyard stark naked with people who were virtually strangers wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight or ever. I chewed my bottom lip nervously.

“You can go to the side of the house to change,” he suggested, obviously annoyed by my modesty.

I quickly scurried to the other side of the house and undressed. Crouching at the side of the house, naked, I tried to force change. My face felt warm and yet my body shivered from the coolness of the night. I never intentionally changed and had no idea how to do it.

“Problem?” Ethan asked as he came around the corner.

Reflexively, my hands wrapped around my chest to cover my nudity; trembling, I nodded. When he took several steps toward me, I shied away. Rolling his eyes, he made an irritated grunting sound before he changed into his animal form. Just like that, he changed in the most effortless manner imaginable.