Moonstruck (Crossbreed Series Book 7)

by Dannika Dark

  “Did I say you could rest?” Cyrus asked, his tone as sharp as a razor blade. “Each time I see you lift a finger away from that pen, I’m going to cut one of them off. Starting with the pinky.”

  Arcadius drew his sword. He pressed the tip of the blade against the floor and rested his hands on the pommel.

  Gem loathed Cyrus for killing her ex, but it was Arcadius who made her tremble with fear. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him smiling at her as she gulped water into her lungs. With a shaky hand, Gem lifted the pen from the stand and continued her work.

  Thirty minutes elapsed before Niko returned with a tray of food. He carefully made his way toward Cyrus, and when he reached the couch, he knelt and offered the tray.

  Gem wanted to stab Cyrus in the eyeball with her pen.

  The only way to placate Cyrus was to continue working, so Gem had to tamp down her anger and focus. After all, they still had Kallisto to worry about. Niko revealed that when she had returned to Keystone, Cyrus received a call every three hours or so. But Gem noticed the phone hadn’t rung all afternoon. Not since she made the agreement with Cyrus to translate the book. He must have called off Kallisto. Perhaps he’d been outside in the hallway this whole time.

  Then again, what if he had infiltrated the mansion and slaughtered everyone? If only that phone would buzz. The silence wrecked her, but it also galvanized her into taking action sooner rather than later.

  Gem continued reading a specific passage, one she had successfully translated and quadruple-checked. It was the only spell she’d managed to find that might actually help them, so she had devoted most of the afternoon to deciphering it.

  What if it didn’t work? While she’d dabbled with the power within the book, she had only gone so far as to feel the energy lift from the page, but it hadn’t actually done anything outside of brighten a few candles.

  “Not bad,” Cyrus said while tasting his food. “Your seasoning technique has improved, but the rice is underdone. When I’m finished, you can prepare a plate for everyone else. Well, everyone except the girl. She doesn’t get to eat until she’s done with that book.”

  Gem nearly knocked over the inkpot when Cyrus abruptly kicked Niko, knocking him onto his back.

  “What have I told you about giving me that look?” he said absently while gathering his chopsticks.

  Niko’s body had twisted so he faced her, his palms on the floor and his head slowly rising. Fire burned in his ice-blue eyes, and threads of blue light leaked from his fingertips.

  Cyrus looked more interested in the plate of food on the armrest. He pushed around pieces of meat with his chopsticks until he found one that pleased him.

  “You’re nothing but a pig!” she spat, the words leaving her mouth before she had a chance to stop them.

  Chopsticks tumbled to the floor when Cyrus rose to his feet.

  Niko’s eyes widened, and he slowly shook his head at her.

  But Gem was on her feet. She couldn’t stand another minute of it.

  Cyrus strode toward her with the intensity of a gathering storm. “Arcadius, cut out her tongue.”

  The moment Arcadius lifted his sword, Niko moved so heart-stoppingly fast that he blurred before her very eyes. The sword was knocked out of Arcadius’s hand, and the men crashed against the wall.

  “Get him!” Cyrus ordered.

  Lykos, who was leaner than the other two, launched from his seat and into the fray. Niko had his hands around Arcadius’s throat, his grip so tight that the man’s eyes bulged. Lykos punched and assailed Niko from behind, and in a matter of seconds, Niko was fighting both men. They kicked and pivoted, each one skilled in martial arts. Gem had never seen anything like it. The way they moved was a ballet, the artistry behind each attack sublime.

  When she had a moment to catch her breath, she saw beyond the fast moves and flawless execution. Niko’s cheek split. Blood spattered on the wall and streamed onto the floor from Arcadius’s head. They fought in the center of the room with Cyrus on one side and Gem on the other.

  Cyrus circled behind the couch and reached for a sword mounted high on the wall. He moved languidly, his face stoic.

  Gem’s heart quickened. She clenched her fists, tempted to wield an energy ball but going against all instinct. It would destroy them all in this confined space. Cyrus gripped his sword with both hands and moved toward the men.

  She rushed back to the table and dropped to her knees, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she flipped through the pages. There wasn’t time to look, to see what was happening over her shoulder. He wouldn’t kill Niko. He’d promised! But would that stop Cyrus from maiming him?

  When Gem placed her fingertips on the page, the world had never felt so fragile. She began the chant in a quiet voice. “Children of light, I call on you.”

  Her jaw went slack when she took her fingers off the page, and golden light encompassed her hands. She glanced at the men, and theirs were glowing too. Cyrus held his sword, waiting for an opportune moment. Even his hands were illuminated.

  Gem swallowed hard, and when she put her fingers back on the page, the light in her hands extinguished. “Dim the light of all except the children of Artemon.” Once again, she let go of the page, and the golden glow quickly faded from her hands. But that was not the case for all the men in the room.

  Cyrus snapped his attention to her and back to his hands.

  She needed to hurry, but she was afraid for Niko. Based on the spell’s behavior, she was certain that whoever was touching the book was immune to any spellcasting, and by that logic, surely that would apply to anyone touching her. “Niko!”

  He knocked Lykos unconscious and shoved Arcadius against Cyrus’s sword. It impaled him through the stomach but didn’t kill him.

  “Come here!” she called out. “Hurry!”

  Niko rushed to her side. “Are you hurt?”

  “Touch me, Niko. Please sit as close to me as you can.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Hurry!”

  He knelt beside her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “Bind their light. Bind their minds.” She grimaced as the symbols sent sharp currents of energy into her fingers. “Make them sleep for all time. No sun will heal, no light will wake.”

  “Stop!” Cyrus bellowed. “Stop what you’re doing!”

  He flashed across the room and lifted his bloodstained sword. Niko rushed him before the blade swung and severed her neck.

  Gem shut her eyes. “Sleep, children of Artemon. The dreamworld awaits.”

  She flew back, raw power exploding from the book and showering golden light across the table like a fountain. Her fingers burned hot with energy, the heat radiating up her arms and into her shoulders.

  “It worked. It worked!” she exclaimed. Gem watched the embers of light glittering as they floated to the floor and disappeared.

  When the light show ceased, Gem felt the silence more than heard it. She sat up and spied Niko on his stomach. Filled with dread, she scurried across the floor to his side.

  “Niko! Wake up. Please, wake up!” After shaking him, she turned him onto his back.

  He looked like a fallen angel, his black hair carpeting the floor and his eyes closed.

  “Wake up!”

  Niko didn’t move. Nothing moved except for the easy rise and fall of his chest.

  Horrified, Gem sat back, tears streaming down her face. “No, no, no. What have I done?”

  Part of her was still in jubilation that it worked. It actually worked. Even though she’d read it in English, the magic somehow translated the idea and intent of the passage, drawing energy from her to charge itself up. But she quickly came off that high with the grim scene before her.

  When Gem noticed the bloody sword in Cyrus’s hand, she dragged Niko toward the door and away from the blade. It seemed irrational, but how long would the spell hold? A minute? Forever?

  She cupped Niko’s face and leaned in close, her lips trembling as she struggl
ed to speak. “Niko, I’m so sorry. I thought if you were touching me that it wouldn’t affect you. Why did you have to let go and stop Cyrus? I could have protected you.”

  She bowed her head, tears splashing onto his tattered garments. Niko had saved her. Again. If the blade had come down, Gem would have had just enough time to recite the final words. She could have saved him even if it meant her own death.

  Gem recoiled at what sounded like vicious dogs attacking the door. A loud blast deafened her and punched a hole through the door. When a hand reached in to open the locks, Gem shielded Niko with her body.

  Crush swung open the door. “Get ’em, boys.”

  She clung protectively to Niko, but the wolves sailed over them and pounced on top of the fallen Mage brothers.

  Artemon’s progeny.

  Gem watched in horror as the wolves savagely tore them apart, limb from limb. No mercy. She wondered if those unconscious men were aware of their impending death. Could they feel the pain? Were they afraid?

  She hoped so. With all the fire in her heart, she wished they felt every moment of their skin peeling back and bones breaking. They deserved it for all the misery that they’d left on this earth. One of the wolves shifted to human form and stood in the middle. He pried the sword from Cyrus’s hand, which was no longer attached to his arm.

  A wave of nausea moved over her like an ocean tide when Cyrus’s head rolled across the floor.

  Crush seized her arms and forced her to sit up and look at him. “You okay, honey?”

  Dumbstruck, she simply shook her head.

  Crush’s gaze lowered to Niko’s body. A Mage simply didn’t die unless it was by gruesome means. Beheading, fire, Chitah bites—but none of those applied.

  He lifted Niko’s eyelids and felt for his ticking pulse. “What the hell happened to him?”

  Gem had cast a sleeping spell with not a clue how it worked. She had vastly underestimated the power of words. Crestfallen, she replied, “I played God, and I failed.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder even though he didn’t understand. “What’s done is done. Help me get him out of here, and maybe I can fix him.”

  Gem wiped blood off Niko’s chin with her sleeve. “Only I can fix this, and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying. Until the day I die.”

  Chapter 32

  After I climbed to the top of the watchtower, I circled the overlook and admired the view. The moon had risen with a sliver taken from her crown. Being a lover of heights, I’d asked Reuben’s permission to come up. He agreed on the condition that I would act as the night watchman. No problem. As tired as my body was, my mind was wide awake and needed something to do.

  Down below, many yards away, candlelight from inside the greenhouse twinkled. The windowed ceilings allowed me to see movement inside. Viktor was savoring a bottle of wine at a table they’d brought in from the patio, and Claude was sweeping up the hair trimmings from the numerous haircuts he’d given to the children. Shepherd was probably asleep in one of the sleeping bags Reuben had given us, but I couldn’t see him among the long rows of plants. From my vantage point, I spotted a second greenhouse beyond an inlet of trees.

  I climbed onto the ledge and sat down with my legs hanging over and my palms on the wide handrail. Man, what a view. The sky was infinitely dark and the stars blinding. A meteor flashed across the sky, and I searched for more.

  “Careful, lass. You might fall and break your neck.” Christian draped my leather jacket across my shoulders.

  “What would you do if I died? Carry me all the way back home?”

  “I’d bury you in the potatoes and sing you a song.”

  “The potatoes?”

  “Think of all the lives you’d save with your rotting corpse nourishing the crops.”

  “You always say the things that make my heart go pit-a-pat.” While I put my arms in the sleeves of my coat, Christian gripped the back of my sweatpants with one hand as if I might fly over the edge.

  “Then perhaps I can make you swoon by pointing out that you still reek of urine.”

  “I’d bathe in the pond, but I might get a parasite.”

  “Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling,” he sang.

  “You’re a terrible singer.”

  “I have to practice. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

  “Potatoes to potatoes.”

  “Nothing beats a warm bowl of Irish coddle.”

  I scanned the property. “At least I haven’t seen any mosquitoes. Say, what happens when a mosquito bites a Vampire?”

  “They meet the palm of my hand.”

  “Seriously. Do they get super strength? Immortality?”

  He brushed his hand over his beard, which had grown wild down his neck. “Hard to say. Those little feckers have been around for over two hundred million years.”

  “How old are Vampires?”

  Christian bit back his smile and studied me for a moment. “You’re inquisitive tonight. Perhaps I’ll dig up a Breed history book so you can read all about how nobody knows how it all began. Some believe that Breed are the originals and humans were the defects born of Chitahs, Relics, and Shifters. Some think it’s the other way around. It might explain why our DNA is relatively close. Nobody knows, Raven. If you ever meet an immortal old enough to tell the tale, you’ll probably meet the most insane man who ever walked the face of the earth.”

  I shuddered at the thought of living that long. “Where’s Matteo? I haven’t seen him in hours.”

  “Down below.”

  I studied Christian closely, but he wasn’t joking. “They’re not going to hurt him, are they? Scrub his memories?”

  “Why don’t you come down from the ledge and we’ll talk? I feel like a wee lad looking up at you.”

  I turned toward him but straddled the railing instead. “You shoved me off a bridge and out of an airplane. I’m not sure why my sitting on the ledge of a watchtower makes you so damn nervous.” My eyes skated down to the long rips in his brown shirt, his wounds long since healed but the fabric still stained with blood.

  “If you fall to your demise, I’d rather it not be accidental,” he said with a crooked grin.

  “Fine.” My boots stomped on the wood floor when I scooted off the railing. “So what are they doing with Matteo?”

  “I overheard Viktor showering him with praise, and the leader down below was impressed with his silence.”

  “Silence?”

  “The Chitah noticed the caravans, the children, and the compound and yet never interfered. Never said a word to outsiders. Apparently they’ve run into trouble with a few nosy locals.”

  My heart lightened at the thought that Matteo might be rewarded for his selflessness. He could have released me and chosen to walk away. Even though he had only asked for a kiss, maybe all he really wanted was to feel like a human being again.

  I fidgeted with the zipper on my coat. “I hope it’s a long time before we ever have a job like this again. I miss home.”

  Christian winked. “I always thought traveling was a perk of the job.”

  “Maybe for you, but I like Cognito. I like the graffiti on the walls, the rude taxi drivers, the street performers, the food trucks, the mystery, the diversity—it’s less stressful. It’s familiar.”

  “The world is unpredictable, and if you don’t immerse yourself in the unfamiliarity of it, you’ll never survive. Do you think you’ll always live in Cognito? Someday, Raven, you’ll move on. You’ll experience wanderlust, or maybe you’ll be seeking asylum. The world can change in the blink of an eye. War. Famine. Civil unrest.” He swung his gaze upward again. “Humans might find out about us someday and force us to leave. What if they close their borders and banish us to godforsaken places like the desert? That would be a sure way to kill us all.”

  “Then I put you in charge of building our sand igloo.” I rested my forearms on the flat rail. “God, I’d kill for a hamburger and milkshake. It’s too quiet out here. I miss the sound of traffic. I e
ven miss the smell of cigarettes in bars and trash in the gutter.”

  Christian chortled. “Should I ask Reuben to bring you up a bin?” He pinched my chin. “How can you be sentimental over a crime-infested city when you have miles of gorgeous mountains?”

  “Cognito is my home and always will be. I can’t imagine living anywhere else. It’s nice out here. Lots of sky, fresh air, and freedom. But it’s not home.”

  He leaned on the ledge beside me. “So it’s chaos you like.”

  I briefly thought about Houdini. It was hard not to think of him whenever the word “chaos” was uttered. Maybe moving somewhere would put the distance I needed between us. But why would I go through the trouble at the cost of my happiness? “What made you leave Ireland so young and travel across the world to a foreign country? Was your home that bad?”

  “We were poor. I told you this story.” He gazed up at the sky. “People search for a better life when they have none. When they’re hungry or fearing for their life. ’Twasn’t a pleasant experience having to suffer poverty and rejection in a new land, one I thought would be filled with opportunities and hope, but it taught me a valuable lesson.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Persevere. It’s better to take chances than to do nothing at all. Had I stayed behind, I’d be nothing but bones on a hill. We wouldn’t be having this conversation. I wouldn’t be looking at stars or saving your arse from lions.”

  I nudged his shoulder with mine. “I killed one of those lions, or have you forgotten?”

  “And I killed two.”

  “If we’re keeping score, then I get bonus points for catching Joshua and Carol on the run.”

  He chuckled softly. “And a lot of good that did. You went to jail and didn’t collect your two hundred.”

  I stared into the dark woods, wondering if they had made it home.

  “Perhaps I should go after them,” Christian said. “They can’t be far, and they’ll be on foot unless he managed to hitch a ride naked.”