Bad Moon Rising

by Autumn Dawn

  Surprised, she said, “You have that many?"

  "No, and since I don't, I guess Roac will have to do."

  Dey appraised his big blond brother and grunted. He didn't need more with that hulking Beast following her around.

  Roac smiled pleasantly, not fooling her for a minute. She knew dangerous when she saw it.

  "You'll enjoy yourself, little sister. I know every embarrassing thing Keg's ever done. As his future wife, it's only fair that I fill you in,” Roac promised, wagging his brows evilly at his brother.

  "And I'll be there to make certain he doesn't get out of hand,” their mother promised, halting Keg's budding retort with a look. “We'll leave after the meal."

  Dey was very surprised to meet Keg's sisters at the table—all eight of them. She tried not to stare as she was introduce, but must have failed, for Vana laughed.

  "The city is swarming with young ladies these days. We wives are expected to make up for the deficit from so many years of infertility."

  Eyes wide, Dey shot Keg a look.

  Adopting an expression of innocence, he slung an arm around her and found them seats. “I like children."

  "I'm not having a herd of children, Keg. Believe it.” She shuddered. Motherhood material she was not. She could just imagine the chaos that would result if she attempted it.

  Undercover of everyone sitting, he whispered in her ear, “Hey, you play, you pay."

  Her eyes narrowed to slits. “I can forgo playing."

  Under the table, his hand slid up her thigh.

  She inhaled forcefully.

  "Oh, yeah, sweet thing. You have great self-control,” he mocked in her ear.

  She bared her teeth at him. Unfortunately, Keg's sister Amee, the oldest of the girls and a pretty brunette, distracted Dey from her revenge.

  The fourteen-year-old bubbled with enthusiasm. “I'm so excited to finally meet you! We were so disappointed that we couldn't last night. Keg's been looking for you for years. It's so romantic that he finally found his lost love."

  Dey raised her brows doubtfully.

  Keg cleared his throat. “Ah, Amee...."

  She dimpled at him. “I'm so excited about the wedding. I won't be able to wed for another two years, but...."

  "Two years?” Dey swiftly calculated, wondering if she'd misheard Amee's age. “You'll only be sixteen!"

  "Our women mature much faster than yours,” Dagon interjected. “We are already considering potential suitors for her."

  "Though we might wait an extra year before we let her wed,” Vana said with a forceful look at her husband. This seemed to be an old argument.

  "Can I go shopping with you, mother?” Amee pleaded, ignoring the strife. “You said yourself that I have excellent taste.” Immediately her sisters clamored to go as well.

  Dey looked at Keg and whispered under the noise, “One baby. Maybe two. Anything else and I might have to geld you myself."

  He just smiled.

  * * * *

  Shopping was an adventure. Though understandably edgy about finding herself in the middle of a Beast city, Dey was awed by the number of tall, armored Beasts striding around the city, occasionally accompanied by timid, often veiled women. Occasionally she saw groups of young men or boys running about the paved streets, but no girls. Dressed as she was in her customary huntress garb, Dey received her share of stares.

  "Why are they so timid?” she asked Roac, who was fully armored and scanning the street in a menacing manner.

  It was Vana who answered. “It comes from the days when women were a rarity. Although there have been more of us ... imported, many women still fear being snatched. You'll notice how diligent their escorts are."

  "Are they made to wear veils?” Dey demanded, frowning so fiercely at a passing woman that she ducked her head and hastened past. The idea of subjugation didn't suit her.

  Vana half-smiled. “Those who cover up fear their beauty will make them more appealing targets. We often hide the least bit of attractiveness behind veils."

  Dey scanned Vana and Amee's naked faces. “You're pretty enough, and seem unafraid.” Dey was convinced that she herself would never where a veil. To her mind, there was little allure to hide.

  With a fond glance at her son, Vana said, “We are too well-known to hide. Besides, a woman can rest easy when she has one of the house of Dagon guarding her."

  A grunt was Dey's answer to that. She was well able to guard herself. “Your women should learn to carry arms if it's so dangerous."

  "Many of us do,” Vana surprised her by saying. “Though male armor is hard to penetrate with small firearms."

  "Wear armor yourself, then, and learn the dirty tricks to take them down. My people managed it.” She ignored the scowls that earned her. Her point had been personal protection, not politics.

  A moment later, that abstract argument became personal reality. A glance to her left, and she saw him. Dybell.

  Trying to fade away, she slipped behind Roac, but it was too late. He'd spotted her.

  "You!"

  Her worst nightmare had three others with him, and Dey was never one to hide behind others. Racing for the sidewalk, she leapt up, grabbed the low wall above a shop front and swung up. Stone shattered over her shoulder as she dropped down flat. Swearing about her confiscated rifle, she crawled on her belly to the roof's edge. Climbing claws formed around her fingers as the living metal of her symbiont shifted from her wrists to her hands. Undercover of the shouts below, she leapt up, twisted, and grabbed onto the rough stone blocks of the building, rapidly scaling them to the roof. Only when she was safely on top did she dare risk a peek. Roac was fighting Dybell's companions.

  Dybell was looking at her through the his rifle sight.

  Stone shattered as Dey jerked away, running flat out. If Dybell had a hover sled handy, she was dead. She searched urgently for a place to hide.

  It was just her luck to run into him here. Oh, she'd known the odds were good, for it was said there were few Beasts and fewer cities left. It made sense that he would get supplies here, but she hadn't expected her first outing to end in such rotten luck. Men like him were the reason she hadn't wanted to come to Keg's city. She knew too many by sight—too many had died by her gun.

  She spotted a rooftop door and sprinted to it. A sharp tug didn't budge it, so she used the symbiont to flow into the lock, popping the mechanism. Flinging it open, she found herself in a dusty storeroom. There was old furniture, boxes, nothing of use except—Ah, hah! She spotted some curtains flung haphazardly over an old chair. Dust swirled in the air, and she sneezed as she flung one on, forming the enveloping robe so favored by Beast women. Careful to keep her head low, she hurried down the stairs, surprising the proprietor of the furniture shop on her way down.

  "Just looking for a bathroom,” she explained. Before he could question her, she shot past him and into the street, joining the throng of women being rushed from the scene. Acting panicked, she hurried up to one group and their protector. “Help! I lost my escort!"

  "Come with us!” one of the women said urgently. “Degalt and Rega will keep you safe."

  "Oh, thank you!” Dey gushed. Ideally, she would have gone back to help Roac, but common sense told her that she'd be of more use drawing Dybell away. If he was forced to look for her, he couldn't stay and fight.

  Grimly, she decided that she and Keg would have a long talk. She did not want to spend the rest of her life as a target.

  Thanks to the generosity of her temporary protectors, Dey made it home quickly, but had to wait for Keg and his father to return. The servants told her that they'd rushed out in response to his mother's distress call. Dey listened intently to the chief servant's description of Beast communication devices and vowed to get one. No telling when it would come in handy.

  Less than ten minutes later, Keg strode in. First he ran his hands over her, checking for injuries. Then he kissed her so vigorously she nearly swooned.

  "What happened?” he demanded,
breaking off as suddenly as he began. “Is Dybell an enemy of yours? What did you do to piss him off?"

  Dazed from the rapid change of subject, she blinked. “Er ... yes and everything?"

  His eyes narrowed. “Define everything."

  "But what about your family? Are they all right? How's Roac?"

  "Bloody, but standing,” Roac answered for himself as he strode in the door. “And I'd like to know why I just got into a small war for you.” The women followed him in and stared at her, followed by Dagon.

  Faced with an angry mob, Dey tried to smooth the waters. “I'm sorry I left you there to fight, Roac. I'd have gone back to help, but I figured it would be better to draw Dybell out after me."

  Angry color flushed Roac's face. “You'd better never dare! If you ever put yourself back in danger after I got you out, I'll spank you myself! Your job is to run."

  "You'd have to beat me to it,” Keg warned.

  She frowned, confounded. The idea of letting others fight for her was alien. At least she didn't have to worry that he thought her a coward.

  "But you still haven't said what Dybell has against you. Saints! It has to be bad. He's signed his death warrant for firing on a woman—if he's ever caught."

  She tensed. “He's still out there?” A glance at the windows showed them to be too close. Cautiously, she moved deeper into the room.

  "Nothing he has can penetrate the protection on those windows,” Keg assured her. “Not that he'll escape for long. Harming a woman, or attempting to, is punishable by death here. But you still have something to tell us.” He took her arm and led her into the family room. Servants came running with medical supplies and helped his mother to clean Roac up.

  Dey watched for a moment, then looked away. “I used his soldiers as my private hunting ground. After I witnessed him sacking one village, I felt he deserved it."

  "What happened?” Keg looked at her intently, as if he could see inside her head.

  Without looking at him, she crossed her arms. Her thumb moved slowly back and forth over one bicep. “I don't know how you Beasts make war, what rules you use, if any, but what I saw of him inspired hate. There were no prisoners taken, male or female. Most of the men were slaughtered outright, and the women died slowly. The children were killed as they found them.” She looked at him, through him. “I hunted his men like animals, and didn't cry over the bodies. When I was done, only three men still rode with him."

  She looked at him then, deadly ice in her gaze. “If I'd had a rifle today, I would have finished him off."

  Keg drew a deep breath but didn't flinch from her gaze. “Normally, only men are killed. The women are rounded up and taken home. Unhurt."

  She stared at him. “And the children?"

  A muscle flexed in his jaw. “The females are kept. The boys are shot."

  She looked away. It hurt, but at least he hadn't lied. In spite of what she'd said, she knew full well how Beasts made war.

  "It will go the worse for him for firing on an unarmed women,” Roac said, gritting his teeth from the pain of his wound. “You're Keg's now, and the council will never stand for him shooting at you."

  It was too much. Dey turned away, walked purposely from the room.

  "Where are you going?” Keg made no move to chase her ... yet.

  "To rest. I've had a busy day."

  Vana looked up from Roac for the first time. “I'll walk you to your room."

  Not bothering to protest, for Vana looked determined, Dey set her jaw and braced herself for a verbal assault, fully expecting to be denounced in the most hurtful way possible. Many in Vana's position would feel they had the right.

  Instead, they walked in silence for a bit. Spotting a stray silk scarf belonging to one of her daughters, Vana scooped it up with a smile. “So many children, so little time."

  Forcing herself to make small talk, Dey nodded, aware that her expression was grimmer than the subject warranted. “All those daughters and only two sons."

  "I used to have more,” Vana said softly. “Your people are fierce fighters."

  Dey slowed to a halt, facing the woman. Hate she could deal with. This soft hurt was something else. She searched Vana's eyes, wondering when the condemnation would come.

  Instead, she saw compassion and a desire for peace.

  "The war is all but over, Dey. Don't let it live inside of you. Don't lend it immortality in your heart.” She nodded in a little farewell, then left, her daughter's scarf draped forlornly over her arm like a banner of mourning.

  Lost brothers, lost sons. In all the bloody fighting, could Dey honestly say she'd lost anyone she loved?

  * * * *

  Keg watched Dey go, trailing invisible blood.

  It hurt. The last thing he'd wanted for her was more pain. He couldn't take away the last few years, but he wanted to fade them.

  As the son of a Beast leader, he'd grown up knowing how desperate their people were, how slim his chances of ever having a wife were. Vana had been a welcome edition into his life, for his own mother had not wanted him, the least of her many sons. She'd adopted him, and he'd grown up treasuring what so many young men lacked.

  When the fruit that allowed for the birth of daughters was discovered, he'd known it would still be many years before he could hope for a union. As a boy, it hadn't mattered so much. As a man, it had galled him to see the Symbionts refuse the generous offers to purchase the land where the plant grew. He'd gone to war freely, unwilling to let his people die. He'd had the privilege to serve under good men, and had risen to be a leader. Efficient and a skilled warrior, he'd ensured that the women and children his men captured were treated with care—or as much care as could be expected under the brutal conditions. While sickened at the waste, he'd dispatched what men and boys remained with swift mercy. As hardened as they were against the Beasts, they would have only grown into a fresh crop of enemies, spawned new wars.

  The brutal work had aged him in spirit. It had been a relief when he'd been reassigned to investigate Dey and Luna. Dey had been a welcome surprise, and her village, so far from the ravages of war, had refreshed him. He'd been so glad to meet her that way, where the armor he wore wouldn't kill her attraction.

  And then she'd been exiled into the heart of the war.

  "Don't dwell on what you can't change,” his father advised, quietly putting a hand on Keg's shoulder. He could still move silently after all these years. “Give her new memories, powerful ones. And if need be, apologize.” He grimaced. “There's not a woman born who won't find favor with that."

  Smiling at his father's attempt at humor—Beast men never apologized for wars or winning wars—Keg nodded. His problems weren't solved, but it was good to know that other men had faced them and prevailed.

  He waited long enough to honor her need for privacy, then sought her out.

  She was in her quarters, gazing at the stars, wearing a pensive expression.

  He took her hand, kissed her knuckles, and slowly brought it to his cheek. “Am I going to have to let you go, Dey?” he asked softly. It would never happen, but he needed to hear her answer, to know where they stood.

  She looked back at the moons. “As if you would.” She was silent for a little while. “My father was a chieftain's son."

  He frowned, wondering where this was going. “I didn't know."

  "No one knew. He ran away from the settlement he was raised in to escape punishment for his crimes, dragging my mother and me behind him.” She paused reflectively. “He didn't love her. He just liked to have someone he could intimidate. I tried to stay out of the way."

  Keg stroked her hair away from her face. “I'm sorry."

  "He beat her. No one knew, because her symbiont healed her right after.” She laughed without humor. “Did you know that? A symbiont is the perfect tool to hide abuse. Mother used it often."

  Defiant now, she faced him. “Over and over I heard women like Megin say of Beast atrocities, ‘A Symbiont man would never do that'.” She sneere
d. “I saw our men do worse. My father did worse. A man should protect what is his, not fling his woman against the wall and beat her beyond recognition. Our men are not gods,” she finished bitterly.

  Somehow he was missing the point of her argument. Since it seemed to be part of the battle she was waging within herself, he concentrated on what he could do, which was slide an arm around her waist. Anything more and he sensed she would pull away. “Did he hit you, adajah?” he asked softly, hoping it was not true.

  She bowed her head. “He never even saw me. He'd wanted a son, and I wasn't that, so he played as if he didn't know I existed. Of course, I was bright enough to run when he was in a hitting mood.” She didn't protest when his arms tightened around her, merely sighed as if her fight was done and rested her head against his chest. “I am no traitor for choosing a Beast man over my own kind."

  Ah. Now he understood. “Do you choose me?"

  "I'm thinking about it,” she said grumpily. “Compared to my father, you're a saint."

  If she was trying to overlook his bloody past, he was more than willing to let her. “I have always wanted you, Dey. Even when I wasn't supposed to. You have no idea how hard it was to walk that fine line. I needed to do my duty, to spy on you, yet I wanted you too. I didn't care about your silly laws about waiting until a woman hits her ‘maturity'. You were ready in my eyes, but I couldn't take what I wanted, not while I was still deceiving you.” He growled in remembered frustration. “That day on the boat, when you were going through the Change ... that scrap of black silk you were wearing over your swollen breasts ... I wanted to rip it off and lick your breasts until you begged me to make you mine."

  She swallowed hard. “You did stare."

  He looked at her in disbelief. “With that humidity, it looked as if it were painted on. I could see your nipples.... “Lust made him stare at the breasts in question. Sweet memory reminded him how well they fit in his mouth. By the look in her eyes, she was feeling heated herself.

  It was time. Too many wasted years had come between him. War had taught him that life was too uncertain, and never to take such moments for granted. Suddenly he was afraid to wait one more minute.