Blood Moon Rising Box Set (Books 1-6)

by Lola Taylor

  The sensation of floating came over her, and Alara smiled as she collapsed.

  Her eyes fluttered closed, and a slight smile pulled at her lips.

  Ah, there it was.

  Rest. Someone else was in charge. Yeah, let someone else deal with all this for now. The anger, the pain, the grief, the pack… Alara was so very, very tired.

  It will be all right soon, a dark voice promised, and then Alara thought of nothing.

  Leaving his mate behind was never easy for Nik. When she smelled like sex, it was damn near impossible.

  Growling internally at his responsibilities for getting in his damn way again, Nik had done his best to ignore his raging boner and forced himself to walk away.

  Duty calls.

  Nik should have been used to it by now. His pack and his mate were supposed to be equal because they were all part of his “family.” But since becoming Alpha, he’d found more and more that the pack demanded greater attention. It was the equivalent of dealing with a brood of needy kids over spending time with his mate.

  Which was all part of the reason why Nik never wanted this job in the first place. Dammit, Gage. Always sacrificing for his baby brother’s welfare.

  Despite his disgruntlement, he knew he’d keep doing it over and over again. It was what he’d been doing since they were kids. Nik defending Gage from bullies at the school playground, Nik taking the beating from their dad for Gage accidentally breaking a dish, or Nik clawing and biting his way through the bloody and violent nights under Malachite’s rule.

  He knew Gage had felt guilty. Still did. And, in typical Nik fashion, he would console his brother and put on a good show of not giving a damn to make all of Gage’s worries go away.

  Because that was what big brothers did.

  Just as Alphas looked after their pack, their “little brothers and sisters.”

  Starting with finding out what the hell the perimeter guards had been doing when that freaking doppelgänger slipped onto their property.

  Nik didn’t need to look at his guard duty chart to know who had been working the inner, middle, and outer lines. He’d picked the men himself, going only with those who had some experience with the woods. Hunters, trackers—hell, even a hiker—anyone intimate with the inner workings of a forest.

  He suppressed a yawn as he stepped into the night once more, wishing he’d gone for a Red Bull before setting out for this. Despite it being nearly dawn, he knew he’d never be able to sleep well without getting all of his affairs in order. It was a trait he and Gage shared—a nervous tic, if you will. Sometimes, like tonight, it came in handy, but most of the time it was just a pain in the ass.

  His eyelids started to droop as sleep whispered seductively to him, but he told it to fuck off. He had shit to do.

  “Ah, there you are.”

  Nik didn’t even bother suppressing his groan. He was past the point of giving a damn.

  Son of a bitch, he’d really been hoping to avoid these guys. Especially this one.

  Agent Asshole approached, his fancy suit still looking spotless despite his trekking around in the woods. Probably “supervising” instead of doing any real work, lazy dickwad.

  Dickwad? What are you, five? Even his insults were getting lamer the more tired he got.

  “Listen,” Nik said straight away, “whatever you’re about to ask me, it’ll have to wait. I don’t have time for this right now.”

  Agent Chang whistled low. “And I thought only vampires were touchy this close to dawn.”

  So not in the mood. “The hell you want?”

  Agent Chang chuckled. For a second, his eyes flashed silver.

  Nik blinked. Must be the moonlight. And his sleep-deprived brain making up shit that wasn’t there.

  “I just wanted to go over a few details, if you don’t mind.”

  As if I have a choice, Nik thought dryly.

  Agent Chang took out his notepad, cuing an eye-roll from Nik. The tip of a fancy pen popped out, along with a tight smile directed once again toward the wolf. “Less than two months back, you were involved with a shoot-out at a warehouse. And an attack at a motel over in Tennessee, one at Castle Crescent, and now this doppelgänger business.”

  “And?”

  “Well, all these events are linked somehow to Mistress Black. You seem to be at the middle of this war.”

  “Just what are you suggesting?”

  He smirked. “Just that it’s awfully interesting. What would a centuries-old Black Witch want with a bunch of country-bumpkin werewolves?”

  Nik let the insult roll off of him. It wasn’t the first time someone had tried putting their pack down, and it wouldn’t be the last.

  Child’s play.

  “I don’t know, Agent Chang,” Nik said curtly. “That sounds like your job to figure out, not mine. You must really be grasping for straws if you’re asking me for help.” He shot him his tight smile right back. “Or maybe you’re just incompetent, as I’ve suspected all along.”

  Chang’s eyes flared with fury. A tiny rip drew Nik’s eyes to the notepad. Agent Chang had gripped his pen so hard that he’d pressed it clear through the top few sheets of paper.

  “You know, you’ve had a chip on your shoulder the whole night,” he said, standing closer. Those sharp eyes of his bored into Nik’s.

  “Only when it comes to you,” Nik said with a smile.

  Agent Chang studied him. “No, it’s not just me. You don’t like the DPI as a whole. Wonder why that is,” he mused aloud, slowly. Suspiciously. “Most criminals don’t like us either.”

  “Am I a criminal now?”

  “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out, one way or another.”

  Damn, he did not have time for this cat-and-mouse bullshit.

  If he disappeared into the woods, Agent Prick would follow him. Going back to the manor was his only escape route. He’d seen the anxious glances and shifting-weight thing Agent Chang did while inside the manor. Being inside the wolves’ den, so to speak, made him antsy, uncomfortable.

  Good.

  Questioning his perimeter guardsmen would have to wait. Which was fine. He had other work he could do.

  He turned to leave without saying a word.

  “Hey!” Chang called out. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? I’m in the middle of an interrogation!”

  “Is that what this was?” Nik called lazily over his shoulder. “Sounded more to me like you were wasting my time. Come back when you have some real questions that are pertinent to figuring out why a dead body and a doppelgänger were on my land.”

  As he walked away, he waited, listening for Chang to follow. There was swearing, some papers being roughly shuffled, and then Chang walking away.

  Nik’s shoulders slackened. Thank God for that. He didn’t know how much longer he could tolerate these assholes before he went Big Bad Wolf on someone.

  He strode to his study, nodding at the front-door guards and the werewolves who passed him in the hallway. It might be late at night, but wolves didn’t care. They ruled the night, in a way those vampire pussies only thought they did.

  Nik flipped his Do Not Disturb sign over, flashing its menacing red letters for all to see. Being a bit of a nerd, he’d had it custom made online. It read, “DO NOT DISTURB UNLESS A) SOMETHING IS ON FIRE; B) SOMEONE IS DYING; C) MISTRESS BLACK IS HERE. IN WHICH CASE, COME AND GET ME BECAUSE I WANT TO RIP HER DAMN HEAD OFF.”

  Usually, he had an open-door policy, where his pack could come and speak with him as needed. He wanted to show them he cared and all that fuzz. But tonight, he needed to be alone. He was about two questions away from exploding on someone, he was that tightly wound. And with his relationship with his pack being strained enough as it was, thanks to the wraith disaster, he didn’t want to set anyone off. Some of those wolves were ticking time bombs Nik had yet to figure out how to defuse.

  One thing at a time.

  Alone at last, he leaned against the door and closed his eyes, soaking up the se
renity of the silence. He thought it would soothe him.

  If only.

  Worry after worry poured through his head, free to roam now that his brain wasn’t occupied by Agent Pain in the Ass.

  He could feel his muscles drawing tighter, tighter, tightertightertighter—

  “Fuck.” In a few long strides, he was in front of the wet bar, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. It went down hard and fast, burning the whole way.

  Another. He gulped it as if it were water and he were dying of thirst.

  Going to pour his third glass, he stopped, breathing heavily. A trio of empty bottles—top-shelf rum, vodka, and te-kill-ya—sat on a corner of the bar, all drunk sometime this week. It hadn’t dawned on him just how much liquor he’d had until he’d actually stopped and looked.

  Damn it.

  Resentfully dumping what he’d already poured back into the bottle and twisting the cap on, he slumped down into his desk chair and ran a weathered hand over his face.

  He did not need to get in the habit again of drowning his worries in a bottle. He’d drunk like a fish in his younger years, so drunk on most days he’d end up pissing where he was sleeping. Often wake up in a puddle of his own vomit too.

  Alara didn’t need that kind of man. She needed his strength right now, not some pussy that looked for an excuse, any excuse, to drink himself into oblivion. Besides, if he started now, he knew he’d binge because it had been so long since he’d allowed himself to get good and hammered. To surrender himself to the alcohol, let it take his worries off his shoulders. Recovering from alcoholism wasn’t a one-time BAM! We’re done, I’m cured kind of thing. It was a lifelong commitment.

  And clearly, he was struggling.

  “Fuck me.” He had to find another way to handle stress. Take up croquet or something.

  He snorted, imagining himself all spiffed up in a polo and some pressed khakis.

  His thoughts drifted again to Alara. Maybe he should just go to bed, take her up on her offer. Now there was an extracurricular activity he could wholeheartedly devote himself to. Sex as therapy. He liked the sound of that.

  His teeth nibbled his lip as he zoned out, thinking. Well, more like worrying. As usual.

  The time he’d spent with his mate in the woods earlier had been fantastic on so many levels. They’d both needed it, needed that closeness, needed to know that even if the world was falling apart, they were still there for one another. But that look in her eyes, the rage and grief and agony there… He wished he could take it all away. If there were any way to keep her from hurting, he would do it, no questions asked and no second thoughts.

  But he knew no matter how much he wanted to help, there were some wounds that only you could fix. Alara was strong. He’d seen her strength grow from when she’d arrived as a shunned princess to becoming a queen in her own right. She was a hell of a lot stronger than people, him included, gave her credit for. She could overcome this.

  And if she ever stumbled, he’d be there to help carry her the rest of the way. The love he felt for her burned bright in his chest.

  To hell and back. That was how far he’d go for her.

  His cell phone rang, starling him. “The fuck…?” he muttered. Who the hell was calling at this hour? Digging his phone out of his back pocket, he checked the screen.

  Gage.

  With a small grin, he put the phone to his ear. “What are you doing up? Don’t High Kings have bedtimes?” The joke sounded worn out. So did Gage’s reply.

  “Speak for yourself, Your Highness.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I guess I’ve earned that, with all these months I’ve given you shit over your title. You Royal Prick.”

  “Cultured Asshat.”

  Nik snorted. Cultured. Now there was a word Nik had never heard associated with him. “Good to hear from you, little bro.” It felt comfortable saying that nickname, like wrapping yourself up in your favorite old blanket. Warm and familiar. He’d stopped calling Gage “little bro” when Gage had kicked Malachite’s ass and had claimed the title of Alpha. He figured if anything officially made him a man, that bit of awesome sure as hell did.

  “Likewise,” Gage said softly, as if remembering all the times they’d had together. “Have the DPI found anything else?”

  Nik smiled softly. To the point. He gave his brother a brief summary about the runaround he’d gotten as well as an update on Penelope. “I made her stay here tonight. She was so tapped, she couldn’t summon enough magic to teleport or whatever the fuck it is they do out of here.”

  “Damn.” Gage’s voice was laced with worry. “I’ve never seen Penelope struggle to perform magic.”

  “Me, either, bro. Whatever happened must have been bad.”

  “They still don’t know what caused the reaction in the spell?”

  “Penelope couldn’t remember what went on. It’s like her mind went blank.”

  Something tugged at Nik’s brain, tickling it. Almost as if someone was calling out his name…

  Briefly worried, he checked his mate-bond. The line was silent. Alara must be asleep.

  Fuck. He ran a hand over his face. This exhaustion shit was starting to get to him. He needed a vacation, but he knew that was wishful thinking.

  Gage and he talked more about Penelope before moving on to other topics. Gage hadn’t been able to find out much of anything on his end to help his brother, which Nik could tell clearly frustrated him. His heart swelled. Gage could be a teddy bear as well as a badass wolf, always looking out for the interests of others before his own. It was part of what made him such good Alpha, and High King, material.

  Nik inquired about Danica. “She’s fine,” Gage said, with the smile to his voice he always got when talking about his mate. “She passed out in the car on the way back, and she immediately went to bed when we arrived.”

  “Immediately?” Nik said dryly.

  He could imagine Gage’s grin. “Well, you know. Almost.”

  Nik snorted. “Horndog.”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  “Sire!”

  The door to his study burst open, and a haggard man stood there. He was one of the guards posted outside Alara’s room.

  Nik immediately shot to his feet. “What is it?”

  “Lady Alara,” the breathless wolf heaved. “She’s been found unconscious in your room. We thought we heard something and tried to get in. When she didn’t respond, we kicked the door in.”

  Nik barely gave the man time to finish. He leapt from the desk at once and tore out of the room as if his hair were on fire. “Got to go. Alara,” he barely said before snapping the phone shut and shoving it in his pants pocket.

  He flew through the manor, winding around hallways and nearly slamming into walls as he made a mad dash for the stairs that would take him to his mate.

  Alara, Alara, he kept thinking, over and over. The thought of her lying there, her throat slashed or worse, kept replaying in his mind in grotesque, vivid color.

  He pushed himself faster, taking the steps two at a time until he came to their bedroom door. It was open. Heath was kneeling beside Alara, who lay as still as snow on the floor.

  Nik froze at the sight of her, his heart stopping briefly, before he crossed the room. “What happened?” he bellowed, falling on his knees beside his mate and cupping her cheek. She looked pale, and her skin felt cool and clammy.

  Heath looked exhausted from tending to Penelope earlier. His weary eyes regarded Nik solemnly. “She has symptoms of magic exhaustion.”

  “What? How? She doesn’t have any magic.”

  “So far as we know. But I ran a scanning spell, and it picked up”—he gulped—“traces of Black Magic.”

  Nik’s heart bottomed out. All thought stopped, as though someone had thrown a wrench in the cogs of his brain, rendering it useless for a few seconds. He shook his head, trying to make sense of what the doctor had just told him. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Positive.” His face grew haunted. “There is no mista
king that dark power.”

  Nik stared at Alara, his beautiful, sweet, good mate. “Could there be some other explanation for her having Black Magic residue or whatever it is?”

  “Possibly. Any number of theories could explain it—contamination from another source, infestation—”

  “Infestation?”

  “Some magic can go rogue, taking on a mind of its own. It can literally infest the cells of another being, much like a bacteria or virus would. Black Magic is especially volatile, second only to Fire Magic.”

  “So… she could just be sick with magic?” Boy, did his head hurt now.

  “It’s rare, but it does happen.”

  “How?”

  “Any number of ways, much the same way humans become ill. She comes into contact with something contaminated with Black Magic, it gets in a cut, or she rubs her eyes after touching something with Black Magic.”

  Nik remembered Alara choking out the doppelgänger. Could that thing have Black Magic? “Did you sense anything on the doppelgänger earlier?”

  “No. My scanner didn’t pick up anything.”

  Nik frowned. His spine went rigid.

  Oh, holy fuck. Was that body in the woods contaminated with Black Magic? Had he somehow gotten some on him when he’d pulled it free of the tree roots, only to contaminate his mate later?

  His blood ran cold, and the snack food he’d had at the celebration earlier turned sour in his stomach.

  A soft groan caught his ear. His attention snapped onto his mate, who was slowly coming to.

  He let out a long breath, cradling her face in his hands. “Hey, baby. Can you hear me?”

  She blinked several times as those beautiful, long-lashed eyes fluttered open and at last focused on him. “Nik?” she rasped, her voice scratchy as hell. “What happened?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. The guards thought they heard something. When you wouldn’t answer the door or respond, they broke in and found you unconscious on the floor.”

  “They what?” She looked around, surprise on her features. With a hiss, she gritted her teeth and clutched at her temples. “God, my head’s pounding.”