Moonlight Betrayal: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (The Witch and the Wolf Pack Book 5)

by K. R. Alexander

  As long as we’re contemplating futures together, it might be nice if you all were on speaking terms.

  Such weird, pointless, and absurd thoughts were racing through my mind in the wake of the clanging knocker when the door opened.

  Chapter 15

  It wasn’t Gavin, but a slightly stooped man in—yes—a suit and tie, all black and white.

  He welcomed us stiffly inside and I gathered this was the ubiquitous butler who was supposed to accompany such buildings and persons who inhabit them. He almost made me laugh as he offered to take coats. It felt like some sort of theatrical experience.

  I was distracted from the stony-faced butler, magnificent vaulted foyer, and curving mahogany staircase by the smell. Awash in the sweet, mouthwatering aromas of cinnamon rolls, cloves, and something richer, smoky, I forgot all about dress codes or books as I wondered what was for dinner.

  My companions did not seem so enchanted—looking around, sniffing, frowning. Maybe it was a bit strong for them? But who doesn’t love cinnamon rolls?

  “Welcome! Forgive me for not being at the door to greet you.”

  We all looked up, Jed and Kage still trailing in from the rain as the butler waited to shut the door.

  “Frightfully sorry about this weather. And you thinking you were calling in summer.” All thoughts of my own attire fled as I saw Gavin descending the wide staircase.

  “It’s nothing. Thank you for having us here.”

  “Oh, my pleasure, my pleasure. You must be Cassia? Our uncommonly skilled scry?” He was dressed, as became indisputable as he reached the foot of the stairs before us, in a Victorian smoking jacket of black silk and velvet with a red sash, black waistcoat and tie, and red shirt. Plus black slacks with knife creases and pointy-toed shoes polished to a mirror finish.

  “And you’re Gavin? Also uncommonly sensitive or I’d never have made contact with you.”

  “We all must do our best. Truly a pleasure,” he repeated as I met him on the rug below a chandelier the size of my VW at home and he kissed my hand. His own right was adorned in a few golden rings with various symbols engraved into them, left ear similarly fitted in three gold rings down the side.

  My pack collectively tensed around me at this hand-kissing liberty, yet I rather thought they didn’t need to worry about Gavin. Then again, we’d all thought they didn’t need to worry about Jason.

  His hand was cool and boney, soon withdrawn from mine to gesture around the room.

  “You are just in time. My apologies for having you so late to call, but I had something come up this afternoon and didn’t want to put you off until Thursday. Wednesdays are always difficult, you understand. But cook tells me all is ready and we can sit right down. Perhaps you could tell me about your adventures with this tome over dinner, then we’ll see what we can make of it? I’m sure you were brave to procure such an object at all.” Smiling around at the rest.

  “Brave or foolish,” I said.

  Gavin chuckled. “Then you are too young to have learnt they are one in the same.”

  His eyes were dark, skin pale, thin, even sunken-cheeked, and I wondered if he was ill. Perhaps middle-aged, as I’d thought in my scry, yet I wasn’t sure about that either. His smoothed back hair was also dark. It may have been the sickly appearance in an otherwise very handsome, sharp face that made him seem older than he was.

  I introduced the rest, who nodded while Gavin welcomed them.

  Kage was not the only one having to breathe through his mouth now and I followed up the names with, “What is it we’re smelling? I hope it’s dinner.”

  Another little laugh as Gavin ushered is through a vast archway to the left and down a hall. We had relinquished our motorcycle jackets to the unnamed butler, which I’d felt left me even more underdressed. Glad now, though, as I found the dimly lit passage warm and not at all drafty.

  “That, in fact, is incense and cinnamon candles. Cinnamon is a powerful herb, as I’m sure you know, and such burns are a nightly ritual for my spellcraft.” He glanced around then, a slight frown creasing his brows. “Although, now you mention it, I should apologize. I failed to consider the evening’s company.”

  Isaac managed a tight-lipped smile. “Not at all. We’re grateful for your time and invitation here.”

  “Well, it should be less pronounced back here anyway, and I’ll have Collins put them out, let the place air for us. Now, truly, you must relieve an inquiring mind’s curiosity. Tell me, how did you manage to procure this book?”

  I started the story of searching the castle and finding the bookkeeper below it as Gavin led us to the right, through a gallery, then another passage to the long, elegant dining room. I’d thought we were a crowd. This table, however, could easily accommodate twelve or fourteen.

  The room, like the rest of the place other than foyer, was gloomy in a pleasant, cozy-beside-the-fireplace feel. Indeed, the room was lit in reproduction oil lamps around the walls and two candelabras with nine flickering taper candles each on the long table. He obviously had electricity, going by the outside lights and that chandelier, yet I’d met eccentric spellcasters before and I wasn’t surprised. In fact, I rather liked it. Wouldn’t mind one of those lamps at home.

  The weirdest thing about the great dining room with its romance lighting and dark wood paneling was not the period light, but the person already seated at the table.

  She gave me a start since I didn’t even see her at first, busy with the lights and Gavin showing us in.

  He drew out the chair at the end of the table for me, then noticed my gaze. The others, keen observers that they were, had also spotted her.

  “Oh, yes.” Gavin glanced to the other end of the table. “Mother?” Raising his voice. “Our guests have arrived.”

  “Hmm.” The old woman, sitting at the head of the table and dwarfed by the high-backed chair she hunched in, didn’t even look up. She was already eating, both feeble, tiny hands on a white soup bowl that she lifted slowly to her lips to sip.

  “Sorry,” Gavin murmured to me, taking a breath. I got the sense he was as embarrassed by her as if he’d been a teenager. “Of course, she could have come out to meet you herself, but she’s grown rather, well…”

  “That’s quite all right.” I smiled, accepting the seat.

  “Mother?” Raising his voice again. “This is Cassia, the talented witch who scried to me. And her friends.” His tone was bright, hopeful.

  Sip, sip, still never looking up.

  Gavin sighed and waved at the table. “Have a seat wherever you like. Mother, really. You could have waited for us.” He walked down the table to her.

  Counter to what he’d said, the smell was strong as ever here. A rich perfume of cinnamon, butter, yeast, cloves, smoky, spicy incense… Was it really just from candles? Or was there a bit of magic to it?

  My pack crowded around, three to each side from me where Gavin had placed me at the end. They subtly edged chairs even closer as they sat—perhaps protective, perhaps wanting some distance between themselves and Mother. There was something creepy about the old woman. This must be her estate, not his. Or maybe she’d married Gavin’s father just to bump him off and get the family gold.

  No, not that creepy. The poor thing probably had dementia. I felt bad for Gavin as he fussed with her, most likely wishing she hadn’t joined us at all, but unable to keep her confined to quarters.

  “Anyway—” Gavin was distracted, pulling out his own chair at the other end of the table, beside his mother. “Wine? No … not drinkers, right? You, Cassia?”

  “Please. Whatever you recommend with dinner.”

  “Excellent. And a pitcher of water, then start with the soup?” With a chagrined glance at the old lady to his right, still delicately sipping.

  “Sounds great. Thank you, Gavin.” I smiled reassuringly at him. It wasn’t his fault she was a bit off.

  The rest, however, made no such effort. Some were slow even to sit down. For a minute there, I thought Jed was refusi
ng to at all. Isaac shot him a look and so did I.

  He finally subsided, remaining on the edge of his chair and staring at the old woman way more than was called for.

  “I’ll just ring Collins, then hear the rest of your story.” Ringing in this case really did mean ringing. Gavin stood for the antique bell-pulls on the wall by the far door.

  While he was up, no one made any pretense about staring at him or his mother. Although Kage and Zar in particular appeared to be in some distress—Kage having trouble breathing, while Zar’s eyes were streaming from the incense fumes. Isaac looked almost as tense as Jed while he watched the old woman, also having to breathe through his mouth. Jason watched Gavin, frowning. Andrew, on the other hand, was looking around the room: windows, two doors, lamps. Then he looked at me and mouthed words with just a breath of sound.

  “Where’s it coming from?”

  A good question. If Gavin had been burning and working on his craft in his smoking jacket upstairs in his study it made perfect sense that it would fill the foyer below. But this room was a long, long way from the front of the house, the stairs, or Gavin’s speculative study. Not only that, but it was shut up. Two shut windows, one shut door, and one open door.

  My pack couldn’t sit in this and eat, even the non-allergy sufferers.

  I would have to say something to Gavin. If we could just open the windows? He’d already apologized. Surely he would understand.

  “Now—” He returned to the table. “How was it you got out of there? I must hear the conclusion of your thrilling tale. And this book? You have it with you, naturally?”

  “Yes.” I glanced to Zar, who, blinking rapidly, fumbled the tin from his messenger bag. “Gavin? I’m very sorry, it’s so warm and comfortable in here, but might we open a window? I love the cinnamon. It’s just that we’re not really used to it…”

  “Of course, of course. I beg pardon, it is rather strong, isn’t it? I’ll clear the place out.” While Gavin hopped back up to open the ornate windows to each side of an unlit hearth, Zar passed the Christmas cookie tin over to me.

  I quickly wrapped up my story: how I’d been able to unlock the doors and get us out of the castle with magic, while Kage, Isaac, and the others had saved us from such crises as pits of animated bodies, enchanted clockwork knights, and swarms of bloodthirsty rats. Thinking of that night, all Kage had done for us—not only saving my life, but all of ours by showing me the truth to open those doors and pushing me to do it—I felt a fresh wave of guilt.

  “Anyway,” I finished. “Tell us a bit about your language studies. How is it you come by vampiric documents usually?”

  “I don’t very often. That’s why I was so delighted to hear what you were after. Like I said, you’re the one doing me the favor. That’s the Blood Tome then?”

  I was just removing the book from the tin.

  “I thought you were about to pass around pre-dinner biscuits.”

  I laughed. “It was only a precaution. Advice from an elder in the pack.”

  Soft footfalls entered the room. White-gloved servers brought in trays with our soup and drinks. I’d expected Collins wheeling a cart like hotel room service. It must be the old lady who insisted on keeping a full staff about the place. Then again, that jacket of Gavin’s? And using the bell pulls rather than texting his butler? Perhaps he was time displaced as well.

  “Do tell.” Gavin went on as water and wine were poured. “The elders think the book is dangerous? It needs to be locked up?”

  “Not that. She thinks vampires are dangerous. Because vampires are psionic, we’ve been warding and keeping the book sealed in metal with the hopes of blocking some of that telepathic reach. We’re sure they want the tome back and we’d rather they not know where we’re keeping it in the meantime.”

  “Interesting.” His dark eyes were fixed on the blue and gold bound book in my hands from across the table. “And wise. I didn’t know shifters kept up to date with ways of undead, it’s been so long since the wars, after all. Very prudent.”

  The servers set out our small white bowls of puréed soup like Mother’s, then stepped back. Why were there so many of them? Was this how the ultra rich lived? Or ultra rich eccentric English casters?

  And … there was something weird about the soup. And something weird about my pack. And about this whole thing…

  It didn’t all click until I looked down and realized I was gazing into the glossy, crimson surface of a bowl of blood.

  Chapter 16

  Jed was the first to move. It was only a quick, violent flurry, however. Even as he sprang to his feet, halfway through the motion, two gloved hands caught his shoulders and slammed him back into his chair. In that instant, as Gavin swept to his own feet, I discovered there were even more servers than I’d noticed. Eight or ten white-gloved, black-suited, pale and emaciated figures surrounded our end of the long table.

  Everyone froze. It seemed, just then, even the candles forgot to flicker. The silence was piercing, absolute, besides the sip, sipping of the matron at the head of the table opposite me.

  Gavin stood by her chair. I sat still, the book clutched in both sweating hands. The six wolves also froze as Jed’s effort to move was foiled. Then, in the sudden hush, I caught the faintest odor, as the cinnamon roll smell was abating through the windows, of death.

  Gavin, one languid hand on the high back of the chair with the old one in it, smiled.

  “Now then,” he said ever so softly. “We understand each other. Quite as well as your wise elders. What a pity you thought you were cleverer than that, my girl. Go scrying after someone who can read our Blood Tome? Who did you think would answer? Were you really fool enough to suppose we would not be watching for our book, our records, to come up in your mind?”

  “It is a record then.” My own voice was breathless, sharp, as my mind raced and stayed numb at the same time.

  Everyone else, I knew, was also thinking fast. These were not more Dieters. Not with strength to slam the likes of Jed into a chair. These were newborns. Lords and ladies of the night after all. And we were about to be the next to have our eyes carved out.

  “And I suppose you can read it,” I continued.

  “Give us the Blood Tome.” Descending into a hiss.

  “Not until you let us go. And tell us why you’re doing this—”

  “Let you go?” He laughed sharply. “My dear girl, you are in no position to negotiate—”

  “What are you doing in the country? Why are your people breaking the truce—?”

  “Why are you in the city?” Suddenly a shout. “Why are casters allying themselves with shifters against us? Why do you take part in our affairs at all? And why do you slay our brethren, break into our homes, destroy our guards, and steal our artifacts? You have the least right to ask anything of us yet you come in here with your human arrogance, your loyalty to filthy beasts after your people swore neutrality, and demand answers from us?” Abruptly, his voice sank to a hissing murmur again. “Give us what you stole. Now. Or your furry friends will die and you will be the next to spawn. Assuming you’re my type, of course.” Licking his lips.

  “I’m not giving you anything until you let us go. Then we can talk—”

  “You do not seem to understand the situation you have trapped yourselves in!” Another shout, the vampires around the table stepping closer, almost touching the backs of our chairs.

  Sip, sip. Then she delicately licked out the bowl.

  “No!” I shouted back, leaning forward, hands so tight on the book my muscles ached. “You don’t seem to understand. If you lay a finger on any of us, I’ll burn the book.”

  A soft chuckle this time. “Go right ahead. There’s a candle for you. Do you know how long it takes a thick volume like that to burn up?” Indulgent smile, one hand on his hip.

  “You seem to be forgetting something.” I held it up. “I’m a witch. Do you know how easy it is to make paper explode?”

  Silence. Smile gone as his eyes turne
d to perfect Os.

  “Now,” I whispered, “are you going to let us out, or not?”

  Count of five, six, then, “Get the book,” Gavin snarled.

  They lunged. But they weren’t the only ones. In a blink everyone moved. The mass of vampires went for me as all six wolves bolted from their chairs, this time back and sideways, slamming into the undead. I hurled myself sideways from my own chair in the same manner, sending it flying, almost fell to my knees, and sped for the door.

  Wham right into another vampire between it and myself. I was ready for this, palm up into its face, blinding it with a blast of white light.

  The undead screamed and staggered backward, clutching at its own eyes.

  In noise and carnage behind me, as the rest followed or kept the vampires off me, I hit the door. I didn’t even try the handle, again ready. The magic took care of lock and handle and the door blasted back, wide open to the corridor beyond.

  “Run!”

  “No! Get the book!”

  “Isaac! Kage! Run!”

  “You will not take our tome again!”

  Turmoil, shouting, fighting, Kage swinging a chair into one and sending it crashing across the table, bowls of blood and candelabras smashing in all directions, Andrew and Zar running for me, shoving me on. Gavin dashing forward. Then we were out, bursting into the hall with the vampires knocked back, tripped up, or otherwise engaged as their tablecloth and a couple of suit jackets caught fire.

  Down the hall, left and through the gallery. More crashing and smashing in here. Glass breaking from a picture frame. I tried to stop, look around, draw up more light to force them back. But Andrew held my upper arm, pulling me on. By Goddess, he could run. Known for it in fur, even running with him in skin was like being yanked along on the end of a greyhound’s leash. He nearly had me off my feet as we whipped around the corner to the large corridor that had led us here off the foyer.