Moon Struck

by Ben Alderson

  Moon Struck

  Hillcrest Supernaturals, #2

  Copyright © 2018 Danielle Rose & Ben Alderson

  All rights reserved.

  ASIN: B07K45J4W6

  Cover design by Covers by Christian

  Editing by Narrative Ink Editing LLC

  Book design by Red Umbrella Graphic Designs

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copy-righted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or names featured are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  The next spellbinding installment in the Hillcrest Supernaturals series...

  About the Authors

  George

  Normally, I enjoy the walk to Hillcrest Academy, especially during the colder months, when the air is riddled with its crisp bite and the ground is littered with leaves tainted in autumnal shades.

  But today is different.

  Very different.

  It’s a short walk from my home to the academy. On the outskirts of Hillcrest, situated on a hill west of the town, the academy sits proudly. Humans, and other supernaturals, think nothing of it. Its façade is that of a house, mirroring the many Victorian-style manors of Hillcrest. But to witches, it’s a second home, a place of learning and honing the craft.

  Years ago, it was a hospital. Built to accommodate war and pestilence, the estate catered to the dying. It was one of the former elder witches who reclaimed it for what it is now.

  Within the walls are classrooms, common rooms, restrooms, and libraries. Hillcrest youth who are blessed by the goddess must attend from the age of six onward. Graduation comes only once a student has completed three requirements: the student must be trained in the craft, join a coven, and pass the Test of Fives.

  I run up the long drive, which is framed by tall pencil pine trees. Like shards of emerald, they point to the sky—earth’s way of protecting the school from humans’ watchful eyes.

  The driveway is covered in crumbled white chalk that stains the sides of my boots, but I don’t care. Normally, I would walk up the plush lawn, but today, my mind is too occupied to overwhelm myself with such mundane issues.

  Savi is all I can think about.

  She’s been missing. The last time I saw her, she was surrounded by wolves, protected by a field of wolfsbane. After a day passed without word, I tried to find her. I tried every locator spell I could think of, and every spell provided the same information.

  Savi is nowhere.

  Literally nowhere.

  Her presence was absent on every scrying board, looking bowl, and soul-calling pendant I used. It’s been two days since the attack, since Chad and I left her behind to face the wolves in Wolfsbane Forest. She hasn’t texted or called, and every method of scrying has failed me.

  This is why I’m forced to come here, to beg the witches for help.

  Together, Chad and I tried everything to get through to Savi. I used the reliable crystal and map technique. I even took a strand of Savi’s hair from a brush in her room, wrapped it around the metal chain of my scrying crystal, and dangled the stone over a map of Hillcrest. I should have felt the crystal pull to her location, but it was dead still—not even the breeze from the open window could move it.

  I tried scrying with water, using my sway over the element to cast a vision of her location across the surface of the water, but it showed me nothing.

  I tried everything, every trick I knew, and failed.

  Even though all the signs point to her being gone from this world, I know she is alive. Scrying may tell me she’s nowhere, but inside, I don’t believe that. I would know if my best friend were dead.

  We would know.

  The dark voice that echoes from the pit of my body speaks to me internally. It has become a constant sensation in the days since Savi has gone missing. It seems the more I use magic, the more the darkness speaks to me. Does it feed on my power? Does it grow stronger as I grow weaker? The voice is feeble, but it’s there. Sometimes, it is so quiet I mistake it for being my own inner thoughts.

  But I can’t think about these things right now. I need to focus on finding Savi. Instinctively, as if she’s part of me, I know she’s in duress. She needs me, and I’m not sure how much longer she can wait.

  A burst of hot fire shoots past my face, snatching me from my worried mind.

  “Hey!” I scream, pointing toward the two young witches who are conjuring their elements on the academy’s front lawn. “Watch it, would you?”

  I rub my face, praying to the goddess that my hair is not burned off completely.

  “Alcott,” one whispers to the other before snatching his satchel and running inside.

  They were not the only two enjoying this crisp autumn day before classes begin. Wrapped up in wool jumpers and thick coats, students of all ages relax on the lawn, tree stumps, and stone steps. Some look up at me as I barrel past, but many ignore me. They’re too busy sharing their past weekend plans; I’m sure what I have to say would trump anything they’ve been though.

  “Thought you were too cool for school.”

  A familiar voice is speaking to me, but I ignore him. I take the first step up the stone stairs toward the academy’s main doors.

  “Did the task Elder Jane set us on make you miss all of this? Couldn’t stay away, could you?”

  Leg cocked beneath him and hand holding tightly onto the strap of his bag, Samuel is leaning against the elaborate stone railing of the steps. Slicked back across his head, his blond hair is so faded it’s almost white. His amber eyes stand out against his pale skin.

  “Something like that,” I say, offering a pathetic smile and ushering past him.

  As the first word comes out of his mouth, I know exactly where this conversation is going. “You know, we have space in our coven for another…” Samuel says, eyes as alluring as his facial expression. “I know you are set in your… strange ways, but if you want respect, you are going to need to join a coven. You cannot be a solitary witch forever.”

  I shake my head. “Sam, this isn’t the first time I have turned down your advances—”

  He raises a hand, stopping me. “Just hear me out, George. I know you are used to people begging you to join their covens, but I’m not about to dro
p to my knees in desperation. What I will say is you need us as much as we need you.”

  “And pray tell, how? Why do I need you?” I take another step up, getting closer to the door, closer to escaping this conversation.

  “Without a coven, you will not pass the last year’s test. Do you want to be stuck here forever? I know I don’t. And by joining us, you will stop these unwanted advances. Doesn’t that sound like a relief?”

  “So your interest has nothing to do with having an Alcott or the power that was passed down to me?” I ask, knowing already that it has everything to do with who I am. He doesn’t want me. He wants my power. He wants bragging rights.

  “All I want is to see a witch with your potential join a coven with equally strong witches. It’s the only way you’ll truly flourish.”

  It sounded like my own mother had wormed her way into Samuel’s mind. Everything he said sounded rehearsed.

  “What do you say, George?” Samuel extends a hand for me. “You can’t do it without us.”

  “I can do it alone,” I reply.

  “A solitary witch has not passed the test since…”

  The darkness slithers within me, filling my mouth with an answer. “Since my father passed it years ago. Don’t worry about me, Sam. I will be just fine without you and your coven.”

  I leave him, slamming the door closed behind me. Samuel is not a bad person, but there is a pungent air of gross confidence that makes him seem arrogant.

  Keeping my pace slow until I am out of his view, I break into a run, unstopping until I reach Elder Jane’s office.

  It was not me who answered Sam. I mean, I wanted to say it, but I wasn’t in control. In the dark depths of my body, the presence laughs.

  “George Alcott, please come in, and stop hovering outside of my door. Your inability to make a decision makes me anxious.”

  Elder Jane speaks to me through her closed office door. For the past two minutes, my balled fist has been floating a few inches in front of the solid wood slab.

  I pause before entering and wonder if this was the right idea. I could be making a huge mistake in trusting Elder Jane with the news of Savi’s disappearance.

  “I’m waiting, Master Alcott…”

  Swallowing my nerves, I push open the door. Peering inside, I offer the woman sitting behind the desk a warm smile, one that lacks any real fire but would do well for hiding my true feelings.

  “If you have come to brief me on the… task I sent you on days ago, you should know it is far too late. I grew tired of waiting for your update.”

  She’s referring to the day she sent Samuel, Dani, and me to investigate the human’s death in Bane’s Forest. That was the day I discovered Savi’s secret—that she kills humans. It was that revelation, and the events that followed, that prevented me from returning to Elder Jane. I feared she’d discover what I knew. Elder Jane is known for her extraordinary intuition. I’m only here today because I’ve exhausted all other options.

  “I—” Before I can apologize, Elder Jane interrupts me.

  “Take a seat, George,” Elder Jane says. She stands and raises her hand, pointing to the seating before her desk. I don’t notice the air’s shift until the chair is pushed toward me by an invisible force. “Apologies that are not heartfelt should not be given.”

  I wonder if she can see me shaking as I take my seat. Putting my hands beneath the desk and out of her view, I try everything to stop them, to calm my nerves, but I cannot. When I fist my hands, my legs begin to shiver.

  “Perhaps a drink will ease your throat enough for you to tell me why you have come,” Elder Jane says. “I do hope you like tea.”

  I don’t. I am more of a coffee drinker, but not wanting to offend Elder Jane, I nod politely and watch her take a China tea cup from beside a pot. She pours the liquid to the rim, not once taking her stormy gaze off me.

  “Thank you,” I say as I take the cup she passes to me over the desktop.

  The warmth of the liquid passes through the china and fights the chill in my fingers. I grip tightly onto the handle and take a sip. Hibiscus and spice. The very same taste that fills the room with its scents.

  “Now, what is it I can do for you, George? I sense that it must be something important…”

  The tea helps me swallow the lump of nerves in my throat.

  “I’m sorry if it is not my place, but I need guidance,” I tell her.

  She waves a hand. “Go on.”

  “My friend is missing.”

  “Another missing person? Well, this does add to the mystery of recent events.” Elder Jane leans in, her own cup of tea in hand. “Who, and what, is this friend of yours?”

  It is not common for witches to befriend other supernaturals, but even Elder Jane knows that I don’t let old traditions interfere with my life. Unlike my mother, Elder Jane has seen me with Savi on multiple occasions, yet never questioned me.

  “Savannah Danvers, a vampire.” I use Savi’s full name, sure that her ancestry will spark recognition in Elder Jane. Like my family, Savi’s family has long-standing ties in Hillcrest. I pray that will help my cause.

  “And why have you come to see me?” Elder Jane’s gray brows rise.

  Again, I take another sip, thankful I have something to keep me busy as I conjure the courage to tell the truth.

  “I have no one else to turn to.”

  “Your mother?” Elder Jane asks. Briefly, she offers a look of disgust.

  “She’d be happy to hear of a missing vampire,” I say, not divulging what else Mother would do to the vampire if she found her.

  “Then she has some sense.” Elder Jane stands from the desk, cup in hand, and moves for the large window that sits behind her. The morning light halos around the aged witch, making the wiry, unruly hairs that stray from her bun stand out. “I admire your bravery, George. It takes courage to visit an elder and ask for help regarding a vampire, but there truly is nothing I can do. It is not my—or your—territory. Even so, have you considered there may be no foul play? Vampires are impulsive creatures. It is not unheard of for them to simply get up and leave town. With our binding rules, some simply wish not to reside here. Those who leave like to believe that the rest of the world is less… how do I say it? Imprisoning than Hillcrest. Would it be so farfetched to think she simply left?”

  “That is the problem. I would not be worried if she left, but I’ve tried scrying. Everything points to her being missing. Gone. Her presence does not show itself on any of my tools and techniques. It’s as if I am searching for someone who doesn’t exist.”

  She peers over her shoulder at me. “Then take it as a divine sign that you should not meddle in this.”

  “Please…” The begging tone in my voice is hard to miss. If I grip any harder on the China cup, it would surely crumble in my hand. “I understand this is hard for you, but I have nowhere else to go. Please, Elder Jane. Savi is really important to me. I need to find her…”

  Elder Jane regards me. She pauses, taking a labored breath before sighing heavily.

  “It has been many years since I have seen a witch so entangled with the welfare of another supernatural. I cannot help but wonder if those feelings are endearing or misplaced.”

  There is another pause. Elder Jane finishes the contents of her cup and gestures for me to do the same. “As I told you, George, this is not something I can help with. Witches do not meddle in vampire concerns, so if you are seeking advice or help, you are looking in the wrong place.”

  Something about the way Elder Jane speaks to me does not sound like dismissal. Emphasis on her words is aptly placed. It’s as if she is trying to tell me something without actually saying the words.

  “I don’t understand,” I say, urging her to continue.

  “I am an elder of witches, George. If you come to me with quarrels about our own, I can help—just like the alpha looks over his wolves and the supreme looks over her vampires.”

  She walks to me, takes my empty cup, and ushers me t
o the door.

  “Do you understand?” she asks.

  “I do,” I say, nodding. Her advice is clear. “Elder Jane, thank you.”

  Her hand rests on my shoulder. “You have strong bloodlines, George, so you must be careful when mingling with other supernaturals. I can see you’re determined to find your friend. I fear others may use that against you.”

  “I understand.” I offer her a smile, one with meaning. I’m grateful she’s leading me to the one person who can help me: the vampire supreme.

  “Wait,” Elder Jane says as I leave.

  When I turn back around, I notice she is staring into my cup. Lines of worry crease her aged face. As she looks up at me, I can taste that something is wrong.

  “Is there anything else you need to tell me, George?” I cannot deny the distress in Elder Jane’s question.

  “No. Nothing,” I lie.

  I wait to see if Elder Jane is going to push on, but she doesn’t. When she moves, I notice the flecks of tea leaves stuck to the bottom of my cup. She shows me on purpose; her movement is too precise.

  The shape the soggy leaves have taken resembles a broken circle—an omen, an opposite to the never-ending snake. It means death, the broken circle of life.

  My heart sinks.

  She has read my tea leaves without my consent. She has seen something within them that has caused the painting of fear to cross her face.

  “Close the door on your way out, George, but remember, it is always open for you should you need to consult me further…”

  I bow my head. “Thank you, and I will be careful.”

  There is an undeniable sinking feeling in my chest as I leave, but with all the other feelings of horror that rattle through me, I keep it buried.