Sebastian was the first to change into wolf form. Ethan followed, then approximately thirty other canidae pack members. The full moon called in the deep of the night and they willingly answered and, for the first time in my life, so did I.
The night was colored by a crescendo of melodious howls that resonated throughout the thick woodlands as we ran throughout the vast area with unbridled freedom. The large oak trees waved in the breeze, the grass hummed under our feet and ebullience radiated throughout the space. Was this what it should have felt like answering to moon? What had I denied myself all those years hiding and subduing this side of me?
I had surrendered to the joy and reveled in the pleasure of something I had denied myself far too long, when the deep musical howls stopped abruptly. The padding of joyous paws against the grassy terrain became hard bounds against the earth. The euphonious sounds were replaced by Sebastian’s angry growl. The pack reversed and starting sprinting back to the retreat. I couldn’t see what was going on, but when a surge of anger and hostility washed over me, I knew it couldn’t be good. I pulled back toward the trees aware that my dark gray coat did not blend well with them and would not keep me hidden. But as the others surrounded me, it made it difficult to pick me out. They emerged, their faces pale and eyes various shades of crimson and black onyx. Baring their fangs, they held choice weapons from crossbow, swords and even guns. We were being attacked. Sebastian charged first, taking out two vamps before hitting the ground. He caught one quickly by the throat, the other fell victim to his claws. He stalked deeper into the woods, responding to the sounds of rustling trees exposing the location of more vamps. Ethan killed several vampires as well, shredding them into pieces, before he crashed to the ground panting, his body convulsing, as he reverted into human form. I heard invocations coming from the left of the woods. As the commands came faster, pushing magic stronger than anything I felt with Josh, the other were-animals, including me, crashed to the ground, jerking violently as we were forced back into human form.
My gaze followed the sound; hidden within the coppice were four witches, fingers entwined as they continued chanting, forcing us back into human form.
Ethan saw them just as I did and started running towards them, but before he could reach them, they disappeared, leaving the were-animals weaponless and more vulnerable to the vampire attack. Ethan was right; the vampires had gone through great lengths to get to me, including becoming indebted to witches strong enough to perform a reversion spell.
In the midst of the commotion, as the others continued with their transition to human form, Winter ran toward us at speeds that made the vampire motion seem slow. She held a sword and severed the head of one vampire in mid flip. Her sword moved rhythmically with her, like a dance partner with whom she held the lead. She took out the legs of another as she landed before beheading him. Her movements were so graceful and riveting it could easily be described as art if it weren’t so violent. Between the wrist guard and her sword, she had taken out four vampires and was working on a fifth. A group of vampires began to part like the red sea. Through the midst of the vampires walked the man from my nightmares—Demetrius. He was more terrifying in person. He held a sword as he walked toward Winter.
Her face that once held immense confidence went blank. The closer he got, the more terrified she looked. He proceeded slowly, prolonging the terror as a sadistic smile covered his face. When he was close to her, he swung, and she barely blocked it from striking her. She went from being an aggressive fighter to defensive prey. She stumbled and fumbled her way through the fight, losing the poetry in motion that distinguished her skills. When the last strike sent her sword flying across the forest, she protected herself with the wrist guard. The sword caught her on the shoulder. She screamed, the pain kicking in her survival instincts. Dropping down, she kicked his legs from under him. He fell but recovered quickly before she could attack. He grabbed her, and then tossed her back several feet with minimal effort as though he were handling a child’s doll.
He was advancing toward her when Steven, still in coyote form, lunged at him. Jamming the sword upward in a semi-circle motion, it pierced Steven’s torso and slid through his abdomen as though it were going through butter. Steven plummeted to the ground, crying out in agony. It was a sound so torturously painful, I could go another lifetime without hearing it. He lay on the ground panting hard as he changed back into human form exposing the full gruesome details of his wound. Demetrius walked over, pushed the sword further through his stomach and twisted. Steven’s face trembled, his body shuddering but he didn’t cry out, refusing to give Demetrius the satisfaction of his pain. With a smug look on his face, Demetrius pulled it out and started toward Winter.
The smell of Steven’s blood and distant whimpers of pain flooded the air. Josh suddenly appeared with swords, crossbows, and other weapons for the defenseless were-animals. He toss a sword to Sebastian, who grabbed it in midair. Brutal anger settled on Sebastian’s face as he stalked toward Demetrius. He also picked up the sword that Winter had lost earlier. He twirled both in unison, demonstrating his exceptional swordsmanship. I wasn’t sure if he did it as a warm-up or an attempt to intimidate Demetrius. If it were the latter, the affect was lost on him. The vampire held a look of complete satisfaction as though he were now presented with a worthy opponent.
They fought intensely but not a single stroke made contact on either of them. The sword fight seemed to last forever as they moved quickly and strategically attacked each other in ways that would have ended the life of an inferior fighter.
As I watched, I inched further and further away from the cloak of night toward Steven. I needed to help him.
“Skylar!” called Winter frantically from across the woods, running toward me. I didn’t turn to look at whatever she was warning me about; I just started running toward her. But it was too late. A firm grasp took hold of my arm. Spinning on my heels, I struck at the vampire’s face, but she blocked it with little effort as she grabbed my other arm. I tried to wrench it away from her but couldn’t break her hold. Gavin moved toward us but wasn’t able to get close enough before she pulled me to her, securing my arms against my body. “It’s over,” she whispered.
Then we vanished.
In minutes, we were standing in the basement of the seethe’s home. The vertigo hit and my head spun, a horrible reaction to my magical voyage. Just as the room came to a manageable still, the dark-haired vampire pushed me to the ground. As she circling me, I spun on my butt to keep an eye on her. The door was only a couple of feet away, but I doubt I could make it there before she stopped me. Standing, I forced a display of courage under the watchful leer of a predator.
She smiled, stepping toward me until she was just inches away. “Welcome, Skylar,” said the dark-haired vampire in such a pleasant tone one could easily believe she meant it.
“And you are?”
Her lips turned up into an angelic smile. “Michaela.”
Great, the seethe Mistress. Any hopes I had of fighting my way out dwindled. I didn’t know a lot about the vampire’s mistress, but I was sure she didn’t get the position and maintain it by being sweet, understanding and benevolent. I inched toward the door. “You won’t make it,” she calmly warned. “I won’t kill you, but I will make you wish I would have,” she continued in a mellifluous tone.
I stopped moving. “That’s a good girl.”
“I haven’t been a girl for a long time,” I stated, surreptitiously looking around the basement for the gem. It had to be close, since they planned to perform the ritual soon.
“You haven’t been in this world long enough to be considered much more,” she stated amused. I guess when you are a hundred-plus years, a little less than a quarter of a century is still considered one’s youth.
Her head tilted slightly as she stared at me for an uncomfortably long time. “The others will be here soon, and you will be dead not long after. I wish I could say it will be quick and painless but it will be neither,”
she stated honestly. Her tone was soft with a subtle nuance of kindness, but the little gleam of joy and excitement that danced in her eyes betrayed her.
Staring at the wall, she seemed to have zoned out briefly but not long enough for me to get to the door. “You will be an exciting gift for us. We have waited so long for someone like you and if it weren’t for your creator, Emmanuel’s disobedience, this would not be possible.”
Emmanuel, the monster had a name. “What was his purpose for creating me?” I asked.
Her eyes rolled dismissively, and I thought she wouldn’t answer my question. But she obliged me. Why not? It was the final request from the walking dead. A request equivalent to a last meal as one is led to their execution. “Once they’ve satisfied all their desires and fantasies, many of our kind become restless. They long for the things they feel they missed in their pitiful misspent human life. That foolish man longed for a family. Your mother quickly gained his attention because she was the very image of some woman he had a fondness for during his dreaded human life. So close to giving birth, he was convinced that in one sweeping act he could create a companion and a baby to fill his perceived empty existence. He deserved an ending far worse than he received. If it had been up to me, I would have bound him, set him on fire and watched him burn for entertainment. His crime was stupidity at its worst; but his foolishness led to your existence, so I guess it wasn’t all for naught," she absently continued.
Michaela turned her head slightly, inspecting me the way one would an expensive item before the purchase. “It’s been too long since I’ve enjoyed a sunset,” she admitted “and children.” Her deep jade eyes gave in easily to her longings. “The sweet, pure taste of children’s blood is like no other. As the years have gone by parents have become more and more cautious with their little ones. Finding a child playing till dusk is so hard. I rarely have the opportunity to enjoy their decadent taste before the blood becomes tainted with age, but you are going to change that. Soon, very soon I will be able to visit the playgrounds again,” she expressed happily.
“It is forbidden for you all to turn children,” I reminded her with a grimace. The very thought sent chills down my spine, and it was torturous to hide my disgust.
“It is against our laws to change a child as well as expecting mothers and it is harshly punished but we can feed as we please. Skylar, I have existed in this world far too long to give in to my urges and kill my food. I am quite careful with the little ones for they are indeed a treat,” she stated lightly as her face brightened for a brief moment. The basement was empty, but I wished there were something to bludgeon her with. The very thought of her feeding from children angered me to the point of violence.
“Shush, enough of that talk. You are going to work me into a state and I will have no one to satisfy it,” she stated. She inhaled the air near me again, “Gabriella said your scent was beguiling but she often gives in to the dramatics, so frequently I ignore her. For once I must agree with her,” she stated. She was touching me, and I really didn’t like it.
“Don’t touch me.” I slapped her hand away from me. When she grabbed for me again, I stepped out of her reach.
Her lips curled into a smile, “You fight now, but soon you will welcome my touch because it will signify the end of your suffering. You will desire that very much. I believe if I had the chance to know you better, you would offer endless amusement. I wish I could keep you as my pet,” she admitted stroking my hair in the same manner you would a dog. I jerked my head away. She grabbed my face and kissed me hard on the lips. There wasn’t any sensuality to it—no attraction. It was an unwanted sexual advance just for the hell of it. Because she thought she could.
That was the final straw. I was leaving the house. Shoving her hard, she flew back, crashing onto the floor. I ran for the door, giving thanks to small favors when it was unlocked. I bolted out of the house. My fist balled tightly at my side as I pounded across the yard anticipating her to show up at any time, which she did before I could gain any significant distance from the house.
“I should learn not to play with my food,” she stated angrily as she grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me back toward the house. Digging my heels into the ground, I hit blindly at her but only a small percentage of my blows made contact. Hell-bent against going back to the basement, I grabbed her by the arm and tossed her to the ground. Coming to her feet hurriedly, she threw me back and I landed hard against a tree. She slapped me, and the bones in my face groaned as pain scorched through me. If I hadn’t realized it before, I knew now—the vampires didn’t need to be stronger. She outmatched me, though I was an inch or two taller than her and significantly denser than her waif frame.
She clenched a handful of my hair and pulled me toward the house, but stopped abruptly, hissing at the empty space behind her. Josh appeared in front of her, holding a cross out. When he pressed it against her chest, she shrieked and knocked it to the ground. He whipped a knife across her neck. She grabbed at the wound frantically. It wasn’t deep enough to kill although I wished it were. I wanted to finish what he started. The thought of her feeding from children made me feel a level of hate toward her that would not soon dissipate.
“Close your eyes,” he instructed, reaching for me. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, again we were back in the retreat. The dizziness hit harder than before as I sunk into the wall. The room continued to spin out of control and closing my eyes didn’t help. I definitely preferred the old-fashioned way of traveling.
Josh inhaled deeply, leaned against the wall and slid to the floor where he rested his head.
“Wow,” I breathed still leaning into the wall for support.
“Not the best way to travel,” he admitted. He closed his eyes, exhausted from such an extreme use of magic. He was probably depleted. Between clothing and arming the pack during the ambush, fighting crazy vampire mistresses and mystical travels, he had thoroughly stretched his magical muscles.
When I took a step toward him, a protective field went up and quickly fell. “Sorry, bad habit. It’s like my security blanket,” he admitted with a smile. He looked worn as he rested his face in his hands.
The door opened and Ethan walked in, covered in blood, carrying Steven. When he saw us, his face relaxed as he continued toward the infirmary. Sebastian, Gavin and Winter were expressionless as they followed close behind him. I moved from the wall and fell in step behind them. I couldn’t understand how he could look at Steven’s wounded body and hold it together. I was just moments from losing it. Dr. Baker stopped me at the door. His face twisted with sorrow, his eyes darkened by grief. It was as though he didn’t believe Steven was going to make it.
“She can stay,” Sebastian stated as he looked at Steven.
When I was close enough to see the totality of his injuries, I gasped. The muscles of his face and neck were strained as he struggled to breathe; ragged shallow sounds emanated from him. Unable to hold them any longer, several tears slid down my face. Gavin rolled his eyes, disgusted. Perhaps I should have been embarrassed by my display of emotions, but I couldn’t find it in me. If anyone in this house deserved my tears, it was Steven.
My hand rested on his chest just above his wound. I bit down on my lips and tried to blink back the rest of my tears, a sob formed a ball in my throat. Sebastian stepped in closer to Steven and looked down, his face void of any feelings. I didn’t know how he was able to watch and remain stoic as Steven’s life slipped away. Placing his hand over mine, he moved it directly over Steven’s wounds. Steven’s chest rose slowly and less frequently as though he were taking in his last breaths. No matter what I did, I couldn’t stop them. My tears began to fall freely.
I stood over Steven bawling as Sebastian’s hand became blisteringly hot over mine. A potent force shot through me, combined with my heart tie to Steven and was amplified by the energy from my heart. My heart burned. I tried to pull my hand away but he held it in place. I leaned against him to keep from toppling over. Ethan, Gavin an
d Winter doubled over onto the ground. An onslaught of pain rolled through me as Steven opened his eyes. His lips parted and he inhaled deeply. The wound started to close, his breathing decreased to a more normal rate and the grimace on his face lost its intensity.
Sebastian stepped back from Steven, looking drained. Slash marks that were identical to Steven’s covered his stomach. Breathing hard rasping breaths, Sebastian’s eyes switched quickly between his human and animal forms. Eventually he gave into it. An exhausted wolf collapsed to the ground—motionless, taking shallow intermittent breaths. I lowered myself next to him. As he laid there stilled for the moment, I was mindful that all eyes had turned to me. I ignored the urge to touch him or offer some form of comfort. Surprisingly, Winter knelt down next to me, rubbing her hands soothingly along his massive animal. The uninviting look she shot me had me coming to my feet quickly and leaving the room with the others not too far behind.
I leaned against the wall outside the room and breathed a sigh of relief; Steven was alive.
Hours later, I braced myself while Sebastian and his fury erupted throughout the house shaking it like a quake. Ethan and Winter cringed each time the volcano erupted, spewing curses and threats directed at Demetrius and his seethe. The others seemed unaffected, but it was Ethan and Winter who were controlling the emotions. When he first started on his rampage, the various were-animals started to show through. Some of them even went into midchange but were quickly changed back by Ethan. It was draining on them and their faces showed the signs of exhaustion. The last thing they needed was a house full of enraged were-animals.
“They violated the rules … ” He growled out. “You never attack during call of the moon.” Sebastian was a man who valued principles, rules and laws. The fact that the vampires blatantly disregarded them filled him with contempt and anger. Sebastian was enraged and we were suffering for it. He ended his rant by throwing a sofa across the room. I jumped, startled by the sheer demonstration of aggression; but no one else did. They must have grown accustomed to such dramatic displays of anger. It was one hell of a tantrum.
Moon Tortured (Sky Brooks Series Book 1) Page 26
