Blood Moon Rising Box Set (Books 1-6)

by Lola Taylor

  “I’m going to rest,” Secret announced. “Do not disturb me unless it’s an emergency.”

  The crowd bowed and dispersed, and Secret strolled toward the manor, its gait easy.

  What are you up to? Alara demanded.

  You’ll see—

  Don’t feed me that bullshit line! I’m done entertaining your cryptic messages. You’ll give me straight answers from now on.

  Or you’ll what?

  Alara slammed on the brakes, and her body came to an abrupt halt.

  Secret startled and then laughed. I see you still have a few tricks up your sleeve.

  Alara silently fumed, waiting.

  Secret cocked a brow. May I continue, Your Highness?

  There was no mockery to the title. If anything, it sounded as though Secret respected Alara more for what she’d just done.

  And Alara had learned something. Secret was becoming more comfortable in her body. Which meant she was getting careless.

  Good.

  Alara gave Secret back control, lurking just below the surface of her body’s consciousness, ready to fight if need be.

  I’m—we’re—performing a ceremony, Secret said, continuing their walk.

  The word “ceremony” sent ice-cold dread through her. She thought of an altar, a room filled with candles and magic, and her father standing over her, holding a dagger over her heart.

  It was suddenly difficult to swallow. What kind of ceremony?

  The kind where we break the spell that’s been slowly resurrecting Mistress Black, Secret said, tapping the dagger. These daggers were given to high-ranking members of the Order. They’re enchanted so any life they take ships the soul straight to Mistress Black.

  What does she use the souls for?

  To piece together her own soul, which was fractured hundreds of years ago when Mistress Black was captured, killed, and cursed so her body could never be resurrected for her to unleash her vengeance upon the world. Somehow she found a way around that.

  So my family’s souls are a part of Mistress Black now? Alara asked, mortified.

  Afraid so.

  How do I release them?

  By killing Mistress Black. That, by the way, I can assist with, if you’ll let me stay in your body once the ceremony is done.

  She’s baiting you, trying to trick you, Alara thought to herself. No, thanks, Alara thought aloud to Secret. I’ll take my chances.

  Suit yourself. As you can see, I can be a valuable ally in battle.

  It could. The doppelgänger’s knowledge of fighting techniques and magical prowess were vast. That kind of firepower would come in handy against one of the most powerful witches the Underworld had ever seen.

  But at what cost? Did she honestly expect Secret to use her body “for the greater good” and immediately vacate after they’d won?

  No way in hell.

  She entered the manor and immediately went upstairs to the master suite Nik and Alara shared. The same two guards as before stood sentinel. “I’m not to be disturbed unless it’s an emergency,” Secret said to them.

  They nodded, and Secret entered the suite, shutting and locking the door.

  The room was the same as they’d left it. Alara wondered if, when this was all over, she’d ever be able to sleep soundly in here again. This was where she was taken over, where her free will was chained…

  Where her life became the stuff of nightmares.

  A shudder rolled through her.

  I always keep my word, you know, Secret said quietly. The Fey cannot break promises. Once we have performed the final rite, I will vacate your body.

  The ceremony you were talking about while we were walking here.

  Yes, exactly. Secret took off Alara’s shoes and stretched her legs. Alara’s whole body felt as if she’d just run a marathon without any prep work. Every muscle was sore, and whenever she took a step, needle-like pain shot through the sole of her right foot, and her knee popped. Yes, she’d definitely “fucked some things up,” as Nik would put it.

  Nik.

  What are you planning on doing with my mate?

  Just keeping him in a safe place, for now.

  Alara caught the hidden warning. If she didn’t behave, the doppelgänger would use him as leverage.

  Damn Secret.

  So you honestly believe the ceremony, this final rite, will stop Mistress Black once and for all? Alara asked.

  Yes. The ceremony will break the spell that sends souls to repair hers, preventing her from being resurrected.

  But won’t she just be able to cast another spell to finish the job?

  Not with what we’re about to do. This should also release all those souls so they may find peace, rendering her powerless.

  Alara raised a brow, surprised the ancient Fey would care anything for others’ spiritual well-being.

  Secret glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. It’ll be dark in a few hours. At dusk, we perform the rite. We’ll need to rest this body before then if we’re to have enough energy to fuel my magic. They went to the bathroom to shower. Alara hesitated to strip, suddenly very shy, despite the fact that she’d been naked earlier after Shifting. I’ll let you wash in private. Don’t worry, Secret said.

  Alara stared at the steamy water longingly.

  Don’t you want to get the grime and blood off? Secret said.

  Blood. Somehow her mind had pushed the image of all those dead guards out of her head, a self-defense mechanism perhaps to keep her from unraveling. But the word “blood” sent those images hurtling forward in her mind’s eye, tearing through her conscience and making her guilt feel like iron chains wrapped around her heart.

  Alara’s lip trembled as Secret undressed them and climbed into the shower. As the hot water hit her face and steam perforated the air, Alara felt Secret’s presence fade, and she began to sob.

  For the family she couldn’t protect.

  For the men whose lives she’d taken in cold blood.

  And, most of all, for the last bit of innocence in her that had died when she’d done it.

  The thing about being locked away in a dungeon meant you had a lot of free time on your hands. Nik welcomed it, because he had a lot to think about.

  He’d been pacing relentlessly since they’d locked him up in here a few hours ago, mulling over everything again and again until he thought he’d go insane.

  How could he have missed it? He’d sensed something was wrong with his mate, but he’d been too distracted by all this other bullshit to pay attention to it.

  Because the doppelgänger wanted you to be distracted, his logic said. You did nothing wrong.

  Which was bullshit—he’d failed her. Not only that, but he’d failed this pack when he’d let that thing take over.

  He pounded a fist against the wall, rattling the bars. How could he have been so stupid and so blind?

  Not much was known about doppelgängers. They usually weren’t this careless or this reckless.

  Which made him wonder… was this thing on a suicide mission? Had it finally gotten to a point where its supposedly “noble cause” was worth more than keeping the secrets of its species?

  That thought scared him the most.

  It said, after all, that it had been trying to save the world. Did it mean by stopping Mistress Black? Was that why it had Alara go after that dagger? Whose side was this fucking thing on?

  Guilt wracked him. He’d never felt more like a failure in his life. He’d felt guilty when Mom, Dad, and Elijah had left, as if it were somehow his fault. Which was stupid. He knew they’d made their own decisions, and he’d made peace with that long ago.

  But this… maybe it was his fault.

  He leaned his head against the cool metal bars, breathing deeply and closing his eyes.

  So what if it was? The one good thing his dad had taught him was to own up to his mistakes. He would make this right. He had to. He had people counting on him. His mate needed him, now more than ever.

  Hold on, Al
ara. I promise I’ll set you free.

  He didn’t know how, he didn’t know when. But when he made a promise, he damn well kept it.

  Voices approaching jerked his attention upward, toward the stairs. His hackles rose, and his inner wolf growled as Ralph appeared along with three other men from the perimeter watch. Counting the two guards already on duty, that made five.

  Nik grinned. He was almost insulted if this was all the doppelgänger had sent after him.

  “Time to go, hotshot,” Ralph said, smirking as he unlocked the door to Nik’s cell. “My boss has big plans for you.”

  “Funny. I thought I was your boss.” Two men stepped forward to grab Nik by the arms to lead him out.

  “Not anymore.” Ralph glared at him. “I can’t say I won’t enjoy this.”

  “Nor can I say the same for this.”

  Summoning his strength, Nik jerked free and quickly dispatched the two guards who’d been holding him. “Not cuffing me was your first mistake.”

  The remaining two guards, standing alongside Ralph, raised their guns. “Wait!” Ralph brought up a hand. “She needs him alive.”

  “What for?” Nik demanded.

  “Don’t know. Wouldn’t tell us. But I’m sure it’s nothing you don’t deserve, you piece of filth.”

  “Why do you hate me so much?” Nik couldn’t care less, but he kept talking, hoping to distract Ralph long enough to form an escape plan.

  “Because you think you’re tough. You think you know loss.” Ralph’s voice warbled a little. “But you don’t. You don’t know shit.”

  Nik stared at him. The hurt, longing, and regret shining in the other wolf’s eyes twisted at his heart.

  And in that moment, he knew he couldn’t hurt him.

  “Sorry, fellas,” Nik said. “I’m afraid I can’t participate in whatever flawed plan this doppelgänger has thought of.” Quick as a shadow, he lunged for the guard to Ralph’s right, the smallest of the three, and disarmed him before he could draw breath. Nik hooked an arm around the guy’s throat, holding him to his chest as he pointed the gun at his head.

  Was he going to pull the trigger? Hell no. But they didn’t know that.

  And if there was one thing he was damn good at, it was playing poker.

  Ralph and the other guy—Nate, Nik finally remembered—growled at him. Their eyes flashed gold, warring with the silver. “That’s low for an Alpha,” Ralph said. “But I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “Never underestimate a Johnson,” Nik said, grinning like a kid up to no good. Shoving the hostage at them, he fired a round into the overhead fluorescent lighting. The bulbs shattered, sending a shower of sparks and glass raining down on the three wolves. They ducked, throwing up their hands to partially shield them.

  Nik bolted.

  Bounding up the stairs, he burst through the door and down the hall, heading for the main storage room. Since it was filled with magical paraphernalia, there had to be something in there that he could use to stop the doppelgänger. He needed to help Alara, even if he died trying. On one hand, he could try to leave and run for help. But he didn’t want to leave his mate vulnerable to the whims of that monster, and besides, he didn’t know if she’d even be here when he got back. Or what the doppelgänger would have her do while he was gone. He couldn’t risk everyone else’s safety any more than he could risk hers.

  For all he knew, that thing could take Alara and everyone he cared about straight to Mistress Black. It had said it’d been running from her, but that could just as easily have been a lie. But if it actually was running away, why? What had it done? Was it an escaped prisoner and wanted revenge for what Mistress Black had done to it? Or maybe it was lying. Was it really part of Mistress Black’s extended network of spies, sent to destroy them from the inside out? Was the whole “running in fear” thing a sob story meant to trick them into letting their guards down so it could kill them all more easily? His heart threatened to cave in on itself in a black hole of heartache. The thought of losing Alara forever was unbearable.

  The storage room wasn’t far, thankfully, since it was located on the lower levels of the manor. Running for it, he quickly shut the door, knowing someone had to have seen him come down this way. Suddenly the extra security cameras he’d had installed in a moment of paranoia, believing he was keeping his pack safe, sounded like a fucking stupid idea.

  C’est la vie.

  Looking around quickly, he scanned row after row of bottled potions and dusty spellbooks. This room had never sat well with him. The air stank of magic, which clung to the worn pages of the spellbooks like cheap cologne.

  He stopped before a glowing, golden bottle. It looked… hopeful.

  Unfortunately, the label was in some language he couldn’t read.

  Damn. Too bad there wasn’t a Hooked on Phonics for paranormal languages.

  “I wouldn’t try that if I were you.”

  He whirled around.

  Nik froze. “Pen?”

  The witch stepped forward, her eyes flickering with silvery light.

  He growled in frustration. Damn, had the doppelgänger gotten to everyone?

  As he did in any potential fighting situation, he pushed his weight to the balls of his feet, prepared to flee.

  Or fight. But he really didn’t want to fuck with Penelope. For one, she was a friend. For two, she could flick her wrist and fuck him up six ways from Sunday.

  He was so not in the mood for that right now.

  “How did you—” he started.

  “Know you were here?” she finished. She pointed to the doorway. Nik hadn’t noticed it before, but the frame glowed faintly with silvery light. “You tripped my alarm. I set it before I left to convene with the Council.”

  “And I’ll bet that creepy-ass monster had you tell them everything’s fine, right?”

  “Yep. Everything is fine and dandy, as they say. Nothing to see here.” She smiled tightly. “Shall we begin?”

  “Ladies first.” He ducked as she shot out a hand and sent a net of pure-white light hurtling toward him. As he’d done so many times, he tucked his head in and rolled along the floor, coming up onto his feet and taking off at a dead run through the storeroom.

  “You can’t hide from me, Nik,” Penelope called lazily. “Come out. Together, we can stop Mistress Black. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “Not like this,” he muttered to himself, hiding behind a large metal bookcase full of spellbooks.

  Fuck. This wasn’t going according to plan. Looking at the rows of stocked shelving in front of him, he frantically scanned them for anything remotely useful. Shit. Why hadn’t he taken potions more seriously, really taken the time to come down here and learn what the hell all this stuff did? Some of it he couldn’t even pronounce.

  “Marco?” Penelope called. When her voice was met with silence, she laughed. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

  Her footsteps were getting closer.

  “Fuck,” he swore quietly. Grabbing a bunch of shit and praying it was useful, he shoved the little bottles in his pockets and peered around the corner of the bookcase. Penelope came into view, idly looking around, as if she were shopping and not trying to capture him or kill him or whatever she’d been charged to do.

  His heart pounded as he braced himself, waiting. Once she’d stepped in front of the bookcase, he said, “Sorry, Penelope,” and shoved hard.

  The bookcase creaked and fell, right on top of a shrieking Penelope.

  Nik didn’t wait around to see if she was all right. He knew she would be. Pen had started off her magical career by serving in the DPI for twenty years, after all.

  Taking off at a run, he bolted around the toppled bookcase and mess of broken bottles and books and ran for the exit.

  Something whooshed through the air, lassoing around his foot and yanking him forward. He fell, knocking the wind from his chest and banging his skull against the cold concrete floor. His body slid across the floor, away from the exit and toward
a very pissed-off witch.

  Nik didn’t think he’d ever seen Penelope with a hair out of place on her head. Her hair was in disarray, and her blue dress was stained with an assortment of colored liquids. Cuts marred her skin, which were rapidly healing thanks to the regenerative powers of White Magic. “That was a low blow, Nik,” she seethed, pulling on the lasso she’d created from white light. “I was going to take it easy on you, but now you’ve just pissed me off.”

  As he fought to make his lungs work, he struggled for the knife he always kept tucked in his pocket. There. Flipping the switchblade out, he cut at the lasso, only to feel as if he’d stuck his hand in a light socket. “Fuck!” His palm glared bright red, and he was about to fling the knife with another curse when he thought better of it. It still might come in handy. Tucking it back into his pocket, he grabbed one of the bottles randomly and uncorked it. “Here goes.”

  He threw it at Penelope.

  A boom shook the room, rattling the potions on the shelves and making his teeth sing. Penelope screamed as thousands of tiny spiders crawled from every nook and cranny of the room, covering her with their spindly legs and tiny bodies.

  Penelope was terrified of spiders. Perfect.

  The lasso of light vanished as she shrieked and clawed at them. Feeling sorry for her but knowing he’d be a fool if he stayed, Nik staggered to his feet and stumbled toward the exit.

  He lumbered through the halls, steadying himself on the wall whenever he got dizzy. The back of his head hurt.

  Not really knowing where he was going, he blindly ran, trusting his body’s instincts. A remote hallway in the far corner of the manor came into view, where he knew a secret exit lay hidden behind a tapestry.

  If he could just get to it—

  “Going somewhere?”

  “Fuck me,” he growled, stopping and turning around to glare at Ralph.

  The woodsman stood there with his shotgun in both hands, a mean glint in his silver eyes. “Prick.” Ralph pumped the barrel. “I’ve put up with your shit because you’re my Alpha, but not anymore.”

  “So you’re, what? Gonna shoot me? That’s taking the easy way out, isn’t it?” When Ralph stilled, Nik went on. “Oh, what’s the matter, Ralphie? Afraid to fight me by yourself? Terrified I’ll kick your ass?”