Darkening Moon

by Gaja J. Kos

  I waited until they were far enough away to not sense my presence—or the aftermath of what I was about to do—before crossing the distance between my hiding spot and the room. Just for a moment, I stopped to ground myself. Then barged in at full speed.

  I was on the bastard before he could finish pouring himself the coffee. The pot and mug clattered onto the counter, spilling the hot brew everywhere, but they didn’t break.

  Unlike the man’s neck.

  He was dead before he hit the floor. His face, contorted in a scream that had never left his throat, was turned towards the ceiling, the overhead bulbs highlighting the glaring absence of life.

  I expected a rush of remorse to sweep over me, but much like before, there was nothing but a sense of satisfaction where my conscience had once been.

  Along with a sharp urge to hurry.

  I stepped over his corpse, which took over most of the floor between the desk and the threshold, then walked over to the four cabinets lining the adjacent wall. A bunch of equipment was scattered across the top, some of it buried under folders and papers, some placed in haphazard stacks.

  Gods, for a bunch of scientists, as fucked-up as they might be, they sure didn’t know how to run a clean house. I scanned everything before moving on to the glass-fronted shelves, hoping they would yield better results.

  The top ones held vials, candles, and a whole bunch of other stuff I figured served for the arcane part of their twisted experiments, but the lower two tiers held somewhat more neatly stashed binders—with one row protruding slightly farther out than the rest.

  I cocked my head to the side. It could have been a coincidence. A difference in the make.

  But my instincts were telling me otherwise.

  Sliding the glass aside, I pulled out two lime-green binders. Paper threatened to slip out of the sheet protectors since someone had the wise idea to hook them into the rings upside down. I caught the bureaucratic landslide with the butt of my hand, then shifted to let the light from behind me illuminate the cleared space.

  I swallowed a gasp as excitement zinged through my nerves.

  A discreet, sleek panel rested against the back, partially obscured by the remaining clutter. Quickly, I piled the rest of the colorful binders in my lap and peered inside.

  Spread in a vertical line were three unmarked buttons, followed by a simple switch below.

  Muttering a silent prayer under my breath that the assholes were indeed as presumptuous as I hoped, I flicked the switch.

  Nothing happened.

  I counted the seconds, then reached over to try the buttons. Just as my finger brushed the first one, it hit me.

  Scents.

  Numerous, uncountable scents the wards lining the cells had been blocking off before.

  I gagged as the wrongness, the magic, and the suffering permeated the air and clogged my lungs. My vision swam, and I had to bring my hand up to cover my mouth and nose while I struggled to get my senses under control.

  The first scream ripped through the building before I succeeded.

  The need to hunt surged in my veins once more, erasing any trace of unpleasantness from my mind as my body readied itself to fight. I threw the binders from my lap and leapt over the table, angling my feet so that they wouldn’t collide with the corpse.

  But before I even touched the ground on the other side, my gaze caught a binder that fell open.

  Heart pumping in my ears, I flattened my palms on the desk and leaned over.

  “Motherfucker,” I whispered under my breath.

  Right as something heavy crashed straight into the back of my skull.

  27

  I fell on all fours, darkness threatening to steal my sight.

  Fuck. Werewolves were sturdy, but an unexpected hit to a sensitive area hurt like a bitch.

  My skull felt like it boasted a nice crack, and I could taste the rankness of bile on the back of my tongue. But as long as I still had control over my body, it really didn’t matter. I could pass out all I wanted later.

  I twisted around with a snarl, only to find the nausea increase tenfold.

  Dry heaving, I used the desk for support while my attacker closed in on me. His movements halted when he reached his dead buddy who acted as a natural barrier between us, his gaze briefly flickering down to the contorted face.

  I lashed out.

  The sole of my boot connected with his flabby abdomen, followed by a breathless oomph as the reality of his mistake caught up with him. He might have been thick-set and a head taller, but he was also human, and the difference in our strength sent him crashing against the wall. He hit it with a thud that chipped plaster, overturning the narrow table and the potted fern atop it as he slid to the ground, lifeless.

  A skull for a skull.

  Unfortunately, mine was still throbbing like a son of a bitch, and I could smell the coppery traces of blood oozing from the wound and matting my already filthy hair. I ignored everything but my feet, focusing to keep them planted firmly on the ground as I sprinted through the maze of corridors to the level below.

  A knife in each hand, I slashed at every person who came within reach, sometimes going for the kill, at others just maiming enough to keep them from coming after me. I was lucky the building wasn’t all that large or well staffed—which was a bit odd considering the magnitude of the experiments they were performing, but I wasn’t about to look a gifted horse in the mouth.

  I dropped down low when a group of scalpel-wielding scientists spilled from one of the plain, unmarked doors on my left. They didn’t see me in their rush to get to whatever shitstorm was happening on the main floor, and I didn’t announce my presence.

  It was only when one of them started to lag behind that I pounced. My blade slit his throat, but not before the spindly warlock let out a scream.

  A scalpel flew past my head, chopping off a loose strand of hair.

  Snarling, I threw myself at the offending woman. Magic rose under her skin, a pinprick, scalding sensation I was fairly certain would flay me alive if I let it.

  I slid the knife between her ribs.

  As her heart ceased to pump blood through her system, the magic dissipated—but the pressure was all too quickly replaced by another charge.

  The third warlock’s power whipped at my back. I spat out a curse, then rolled across the ground. Not away, but to him.

  My move must have caught him by surprise, because his magic didn’t follow even as I swiped one blade across his femoral artery and sank the other into his guts.

  I didn’t wait to see death claim him. Instead, I ran down the corridor until it opened up into the dreaded main floor with the now-open cells on my right.

  Screams, blood, and magic formed a thunderstorm that gripped every atom of air, but all I saw was my sister.

  I didn’t care who spotted me any longer. Not when she was so close.

  Besides, at least four other captive supernaturals were now fighting the kidnappers and scientists, which was enough to keep the bastards occupied.

  Greta’s cell opened up on my right. The odor of sweat and feces burned my nostrils, but I was relieved to find there was no trace of wrongness emanating from her body.

  I knelt beside her lying form, then gently slid my arm beneath her back and lifted her up into a sitting position.

  Dazed blue eyes met mine, but when they focused, when I knew it was me she was seeing, bloodied and battered, they filled up with hatred that surpassed even my own.

  “I’ll skin them all,” she growled, but the weakness clinging to her voice told me that just might not happen quite as soon as she would have liked.

  “Come on.” I pulled her onto her feet, taking the brunt of her weight. “We need to get the fuck out of here.”

  Even before she nodded, I was already taking her outside, scanning the cells as we trudged past them. The occupant of the first appeared to have died mere minutes before I came down here. The vamp’s naked body was a map of scars and stitches, but the ex
pression on his face told me he had at least found comfort in Morana’s deathly touch.

  The second cell was empty, presumably belonging to one of the supernatural who threw themselves into the fight, and the third revealed an unconscious Baba Yaga descendant.

  It was in the fourth that I found him.

  Short black hair, chiseled face with just a gentle touch of wrinkles adorning the corners of his mouth that marked him as no stranger to smiling. My heart welled up, relief and worry crashing against one another until I had to force my pulse to settle if I wanted to keep upright.

  “Voit,” I called out, then, after she shot me a determined look that she could handle as much, let Greta hold her own weight against the wall of the cell. “Voit, you lazy bastard, get up.”

  A faint chuckle danced through the air. “Sorry I missed work.”

  Before I could help it, tears burst down my cheeks. I scooped his thin body in my arms like he was a child, refusing to dwell on what he’d had to suffer that had weakened him this way.

  But I knew the answer.

  I knew what the fuckers had stolen.

  And I had a suspicion the only reason he was still alive was because he was Raya’s son, with more power to him than any other regular demon.

  He opened his eyes to peer up at me, then whispered, “I’m dead weight. Just leave me, Lotte.”

  “Like fuck I will,” I snarled and tightened my hold on him in case he got the bright idea to wiggle himself free from my arms. “I still need to grind your ass for getting suspended because you failed to show up for the fucking seminar.”

  His chuckle was even fainter this time, but that hint of life within it gave me hope. I stepped next to Greta so that she could drape her arm over my shoulders and looped the other through mine.

  Combined, the weight of them was enough to make my knees wobble.

  I ground my teeth and kept on going. At this point, even a torn ligament wouldn’t be enough to stop me.

  With the chaos that erupted as more and more supes dragged themselves from their cells and took their rightful vengeance, it was hard to get a clear read of my surroundings. The blow to my head wasn’t making matters any better.

  I strained myself to the point where I almost threw up the nonexistent contents of my stomach from the forced concentration, but it was worth it. Because I found the scent I’d been searching for.

  The sweet fragrance of outdoors.

  A quick glance over my shoulder revealed no one had yet spotted our hobbling trio. I eased us past the room I’d woken up in.

  This time around, with a different goal in mind, I followed the harsh whiteness of the hallway away from the magic and pulse of people. The scent of freedom was a thin, flimsy thread.

  It wasn’t really surprising that I’d missed it when I escaped my would-be cell, although I took it for the reminder it was. In an enclosed space and with all that was going on between these walls, missing something was far too easy.

  So even as I held that wonderful thread in my mind, using it as a compass, my other senses struggled to maintain oversight of everything else. So far, at least, we seemed to be in the clear.

  “Close,” Greta rasped.

  Voit, too, appeared to sense it, although his body was becoming decidedly heavier with every moment I held him in my arms.

  I readjusted my grip.

  If we crashed now, there was nothing in this godsforsaken corridor I could use to help us back up. My strength alone wouldn’t cut it.

  A set of heavy double swing doors barred our way up ahead.

  “Voit,” I grunted, more breathless than I expected, “can you use your legs?”

  A weak nod was the only answer he gave me.

  “All right. We’ll move sideways. You’ll brace your feet against the wing, then I’ll slowly pivot us around.”

  I looked at Greta. “Will you be able to follow?”

  Her arm tightened around me. “Yeah.”

  “Here we go…”

  Blowing out a breath, I steered us into the proper position. Voit groaned as his bare feet touched the steel, but didn’t falter. With a slowness that was almost painful to bear, we inched our way across the threshold when a bout of vertigo made me fumble my next step.

  My muscles burned, but I twisted sideways.

  Just in time.

  The door swung shut behind us, nearly clipping me on my ass on its way back, but I couldn’t think about anything but the sensation that had shocked me into stumbling.

  The peculiar pressure I hadn’t been aware of had loosened inside me. The scent of outdoors…

  It was almost as if someone had turned up the dial.

  It filled my lungs, my veins, with an intensity it hadn’t possessed earlier. I glanced back at the threshold and the fortified doors—and laughed.

  A checkpoint.

  We must have passed through the inner ring.

  Although the oppressive magic was still present, still keeping me from contacting Afanasiy in the outside world, it wasn’t quite as suffocating. Feeling our freedom on my tongue, my steps grew stronger, quicker—up until one of the unmarked doors flew open on my left.

  The smells hit me the split second before four figures exploded into the corridor with precise movements. Movements that spoke of combat training. A lot of it.

  Fuck.

  It seemed not all of these creeps were running around helpless. My blood boiled as one of the faces registered.

  Ammot Gerig.

  I shoved Greta aside and sort of threw Voit on top of her, wincing as they both crashed to the ground. But my gaze was focused on Gerig’s group, on the weapons in their arms, ranging from daggers to—shit—guns.

  My two knives seemed petty in comparison.

  But they sliced deep.

  I cut the woman standing closest to me, but when I spun around to slash the blade across the first of Gerig’s men, a shot rang out. Followed by a searing pain in my shoulder.

  Motherfucker.

  Snarling, I sliced the throat of another as I grabbed him and held him before me like a human shield, but not before his dagger slipped right into my thigh. I crashed down to one knee, feeling the remaining two advance.

  Footsteps, a cock of a gun—

  And nothing. Nothing but an odd sense of power and a bright blue glow.

  I cast the body I was still clutching away. I needed to get us the fuck out of here.

  But as the corpse rolled over and colors started to flicker back into existence, piecing back together the reality I’d lost to the blaze, it became clear no one was attacking me. Us.

  A scream ripped through the air.

  Gerig’s.

  The sound traveled through me, clearing my senses and mind until I saw the blue power for what it really was.

  Fire.

  And it was devouring not only the corpses, but Gerig and the man I hadn’t killed yet, as well.

  In mute horror and awe, I watched the embers of blue dance across their skin, a slight burnt stench filtering through the air. But I didn’t see any injuries. Gerig dropped his weapon and ran his hands down his arms, his torso, as if he could chase away the flames. Blood trailed in the wake of his movements.

  What was he—

  Oh, gods.

  It was their insides that were getting scorched.

  Pushing down the nausea, I looked around, but there was no ass-saving third party nearby. Just Greta and Voit. Since my words still failed me, I merely arched an eyebrow when I caught the demon’s attention.

  Voit shook his head, his gaze flickering between the now-dead assailants and me.

  He wasn’t responsible for the display either.

  The fire died down as quickly as it had erupted, a whoosh of air leaving my lungs at the sudden absence of power. I shivered. I was grateful for the save, but this place was just too damn weird.

  After a quick spell of dizziness that I ignored as best as I could, I crawled over to Greta and Voit. My sister looked even paler than before, bu
t silent determination shaped her face into a hard mask.

  “If you help me up,” she croaked, “I can pull my weight.”

  “Thanks.”

  Greta offered me a smile that revealed she’d read my fears.

  With my bleeding thigh, carrying Voit was going to be difficult enough. I couldn’t support her, too.

  I rose to my feet first, then lifted Greta up. She swayed, a weakness that was so far from the sister I knew my chest constricted. But she quickly steadied herself against the wall and gave me a nod.

  Getting Voit into my arms was a challenge, but I managed.

  We shuffled past the bodies, tracking the taste of freedom.

  By the time we reached the door at the end of the hallway, my mind was starting to swim. Greta grasped the handle and, much to my surprise, tugged on it so hard she nearly ripped the whole thing off. Maybe the magic in this place acted as another means of physically weakening the body and was now losing its hold.

  Having two people capable of fighting would definitely increase our odds of getting out of here in one piece.

  She held the door while I eased myself and Voit through it. The scent of brisk winter air was as vivid in this section as if I were already outside, the promised end of a nightmare lurking just beyond that last door I spotted on the opposite side of the room.

  But the instant all three of us were firmly inside the space, a metallic screech reverberated off the walls, followed by a too heavy thud-thud.

  My breath caught in my throat as I took in the thick bars now stretching from ceiling to floor before us, a matching, although much narrower strip barring the door behind.

  I cursed and eased Voit onto the ground.

  A cage.

  A fucking cage.

  I looked around, trying to spot any sort of weakness. This had to be a last resort in case everything went to shit. I sensed no magic, no power. They probably assumed anyone who got to this point would be too diminished to break through solid steel.

  Or not.

  The same fucking door that led to freedom burst open, vomiting a torrent of men.

  Only these weren’t the meek scientists, moderately skilled guards, or even Gerig, all too quick to bleed out. They were all supes. All muscled like fucking special-ops military.