Blood Moon Rising Box Set (Books 1-6)

by Lola Taylor

  Unless she chose to be.

  “So, I’m dying to ask.” Danica turned to Verika, looking like a kid who was about to sit on Santa’s lap. Warning bells went off in Alara’s head, but Danica spoke before Alara could stop her. “Can you really bring people back from the dead?”

  Verika choked on her tea.

  Danica! Alara snapped telepathically, knowing her queen could hear her. As High Queen, Danica could communicate telepathically with any werewolf. To hell with the fact Danica outranked her in the werewolf world. She’d warned her to stay on safe topics because Verika was shy, and what did she do? Dive right into forbidden-topic territory.

  What? Danica said telepathically, raising her brows at Alara. It was bound to come up sooner or later. I don’t think our witch here is as breakable and vulnerable as you’re making her out to be. Just chill out.

  Verika coughed into a fist and set down her teacup with a clank. “Wow, you don’t hold back, do you?”

  Danica grinned. “What can I say? I’m not exactly known for tiptoeing around something I want to know. I’ve always been a fan of yanking the bandage off, so to speak.”

  “You don’t say?” Verika murmured, sounding hoarse. She took a deep breath and let it out. “Well, no sense in tiptoeing around it, as you put it.” She leaned back against the sofa, the first time Alara had seen her look halfway relaxed. “Yes, I can bring people back from the dead. Though I didn’t know that until recently, with Nik.”

  Alara raised a brow. She’d assumed Verika had known exactly what she was doing when she’d brought Nik back. “You mean, you had no idea if your spell would work or not when you resurrected him?”

  “No, I didn’t. Though I’ve been getting these…‘feelings’ of what I should do. Call it a witch’s intuition.”

  “Like, your magic is guiding you?” Danica asked.

  Verika swallowed, going pale. “Something like that.”

  Alara stared at her, eyes narrowing slightly.

  Danica, completely oblivious thanks to her curiosity, spoke up. “I think it’s amazing.”

  Verika blinked in surprise. “You do?”

  “Yeah! Totally. I wish I could use magic. I was a witch for Halloween almost every year while growing up. They’re awesome in my book. Well, most of them. Mistress Black is kind of a first-class bitch, isn’t she?”

  Verika stared—and then snorted. “I never expected ‘totally’ or ‘awesome’ to come out of a queen’s mouth.”

  “I get that a lot. There’s a lot of misconceptions about how modern queens are supposed to act and how they are supposed to sound.” She rolled her eyes. “I figured, hey, I’m a queen. I’ll make up my own damn rules.”

  “You have a point.”

  “Right? That’s what I’ve been saying all along. But some of us ‘royals-by-birth’ in here, not to point any fingers or anything, still chastise me from time to time.”

  “I’ve never chastised you,” Alara said.

  “Not out loud, anyway, but I’ve seen the eye rolls and the gaping mouths. Doesn’t stop me from speaking my mind. You know, I figured the less bullshit there is in the higher courts, the better. I’m going to be myself regardless of how other people feel like I should act. And if that rubs someone the wrong way, then they don’t deserve the time of day from me anyway. So no sweat.”

  Alara looked at Danica with something akin to pride. “Perhaps you’re more queenly than I originally thought you to be. A queen needs to be sure of herself, to be able to stand on her own two feet.”

  Verika smiled in admiration at Danica. “I agree. You’re very brave. A lot of people try to please others by pretending to be something they are not.”

  “Which is the problem with the world. If everybody just spoke their minds, I think there’d be a lot less drama.”

  Alara listened to the two of them chatter. Verika unwound, turning into a much more talkative person than she’d been in the garden earlier. It stung a little that Verika warmed more quickly to Danica than her, but then again, Alara had never expected them to become best friends. And Danica had a way of making even the most uptight people like and trust her.

  A powerful gift for a queen to have.

  “Verika? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  Alara’s eyes snapped to the witch, who leaned forward with her hands clutching her belly as if she might be sick. Her pale skin had gone chalky white, shimmering with sweat.

  Alara frowned and started to stand. “Veri—”

  “Oh God,” Verika gasped, right before her mouth flew open and out spewed a torrent of vomit.

  Gage stared at the strange marking on his eldest brother’s back with apprehension. “So this…brand ties you to Mistress Black’s soul?” Despite learning about Elijah’s sad, lonely life, nothing could have prepared Gage for this twist.

  “Correct.” Elijah nodded grimly. “To my understanding, so long as I bear this mark, if Mistress Black dies, I die with her.”

  Nik swore. “That fucking bitch did this on purpose. She knew we might prove troublesome once we learned Elijah was alive, so she slapped this blood brand on his back as a means of ensuring her own safety.”

  Gage’s thoughts ran with similar theories. “But how did she know we wouldn’t want to join her cause? She’s definitely turned a fair share of our kind over to the dark side. No, I don’t think that’s the reason why she branded Eli. She has another motive, I’m sure of it.”

  Elijah’s lips pressed together. Gage immediately homed in on his eldest brother’s discomfort. “You might as well spill it, because you know we’ll needle you until you do.”

  “What?” Nik looked between them. “What are we needling him about? If you need someone to rough him up, I’m your man. I’m still pissed at you, Eli.”

  Gage’s lips pulled into a small smile. The fact Nik had moved on from calling Elijah “motherfucker” and “asshole” to “Elijah” and now just “Eli” meant he was slowly forgiving him.

  Good. Elijah’s disappearance hurt Nik more than anyone else. Nik had always been closer to Elijah than Gage, thanks to their age difference. From the moment Elijah returned, Gage thought Nik’s butt-hurt attitude showed how desperate he was to reunite with Elijah. But he had a lot of hurt to work through first before that happened.

  “Can’t say I don’t deserve an ass-whooping.” Elijah straightened. He sighed. “I had…a visitor the other night.”

  Nik stopped his relentless pacing to watch.

  “Go on,” Gage urged.

  “Don’t freak out—it was Mistress Black.”

  “Christ!” Nik groaned, running his hands over his face. “It’s just like you to say something like that. Remember the time you broke your leg and were rushed to the ER in an ambulance? You called Dad and were like, ‘Don’t freak out, but I’m in the hospital.’”

  “What did she want?” Gage pressed.

  “She wanted me to come back, saying the longer I was away from her the sicker I would become. Thanks to this.” He pointed to the brand.

  “You’re feeling sick?”

  “Yeah.” Elijah shrugged. “No big deal.”

  Nik went to open his mouth, but Gage cut him off. “Go on.”

  “She proposed a trade—she’d remove the brand if I gave her Verika.”

  “What?” Nik spat. “Why the hell does she want her?”

  Every muscle in Elijah’s body seemed to tense. “Because she claims Verika is her descendant.”

  Both men stared at him as if he’d suddenly said the world was flat.

  “You’ve gotta be shitting me,” Nik said.

  “I wish I were,” Elijah replied grimly. He coughed, swallowing hard.

  Gage frowned as he watched him. “You feeling all right?”

  “Yeah. Just had too much to drink, I think.”

  “Buuuulllllsssshhhhiiiitttt,” Nik drawled. “A Johnson having too much to drink? There’s never enough to drink for one of us.”

  Elijah clamped his lips together, his chee
ks puffing as if he was trying to hold back bile. “Oh hell.” He leapt off the couch and rushed toward the garbage can behind Nik’s desk.

  Nik ran after him. “No, no, no! That’s a wire—”

  The sounds of retching filled the air. Nik and Gage both winced as Elijah hurled his guts into the basket. Thanks to the wire frame, the vomit spattered all over the floor. Their noses wrinkled as the smell of barf hit them. It reeked so much of alcohol, they could probably get a buzz off sniffing it.

  Gage silently went to the mini-fridge and retrieved a bottled water and a paper towel. He handed them to Elijah once he’d straightened. Elijah’s skin was noticeably paler, and sweat had broken out on his brow. His eyes glimmered faintly with red sparks.

  Gage’s eyes narrowed. Was that Blood Magic? No other type of magic bore that color, save for Red Magic, but something told Gage it wasn’t that.

  “So,” Nik said slowly, shoving his hands in his pant pockets. “That was pretty epic.”

  “Are you certain there’s nothing to Mistress Black’s warning? About the brand making you sick?” Gage asked quietly.

  Elijah looked miserable. He wiped his mouth with the paper towel and shook his head. “I didn’t want to believe it. I don’t know. I just don’t fucking know anymore.”

  Gage! cried Danica through their mate-bond. Something’s wrong with Verika.

  What is it? What’s happened? Are you all right?

  Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. She’s really sick. We don’t know what happened. One minute she was fine, and the next she was puking her guts up.

  Where are you?

  Sitting room, east wing.

  Stay put. We’ll fetch Heath and come find you.

  “What is it?” Nik watched his brother’s face carefully.

  Gage glanced at Elijah. “Danica says Verika just got sick.”

  Holy crapmonkeys, that was a lot of puke. Verika couldn’t remember heaving that much since having the stomach flu back in high school. It had been going around, and a lot of kids were out with it. Verika had thought she was going to get lucky and not come down with it, but nnnnnnnnnooooooooo. She was never so lucky. Never.

  The boys burst into the room within a minute of Alara directing Verika to lie down on the couch.

  Elijah went instantly to her side, his face drawn with worry. He ran his hands all over her face, touching the back of her head, gently stroking damp strands of hair back that had gotten stuck to her sweat. “Love, look at me. Are you all right? Does it hurt anywhere?”

  Her throat felt raw, but that was honestly about it. “No, I’m fine. Just…well, actually, I don’t know what came over me.”

  Nik, who stood nearby with his arms crossed, cleared his throat loudly and cast a pointed look at Elijah, who glared at him.

  Verika looked between them. “What is it?”

  Elijah sighed. “Don’t kill me.”

  “Always a great way to lead in to something you don’t want to tell someone else.”

  When he’d finished explaining Mistress Black’s warning, she definitely didn’t feel like killing her mate—she felt like killing Mistress Black.

  The brand she’d laid upon him was actually making him physically ill. Well, it was making both of them sick, she supposed. If that lying snake was to be believed, which Verika was inclined to say she wasn’t.

  And not only that, but the only way Mistress Black would remove it was if he surrendered to her.

  Unbelievable!

  She’d sensed there was more to the story than Elijah was letting on, but also knew he’d omitted whatever it was with good reason. No point in questioning him in front of everyone else. She’d do so later on when they were alone in their chambers.

  A Blue Warlock named Heath, who looked more as if he belonged on some wilderness survival show on the Discovery Channel than in the medical field, had followed the boys in and looked her over as Elijah explained what was going on. “Actually, you both getting sick due to Elijah’s brand is not so far-fetched.” He inserted himself into the conversation. “From what I’ve seen and heard, Blood Magic can impact a wolf’s mate via the mate-bond.”

  A colorful and creative string of curses ensued from both Nik and Elijah. It would be fun to watch them get into a curse-off. “So the sicker I get, the worse off Verika will be,” Elijah said.

  “Afraid so.” Heath gave a sympathetic smile.

  “Dammit!” Elijah stood with a snarl, balling his fists as he paced about like a pissed-off tiger. He eyed the wall, as if trying to decide whether or not it would be a good place to put his fist.

  “Easy there, bro.” Nik stepped in front of him, cutting him off. “Alara just had this room redecorated. I don’t think ‘angry-male-punching-holes-in-the-walls’ is the type of look she’s going for.”

  “Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you have any experience with Blood Magic, like how to lift a brand?” he asked Heath.

  “Sorry, man. All the stories I know of say a brand has to be removed by the one who did the branding.”

  “Which means, either way, I’m going to have to face Mistress Black.”

  Verika felt a trickle of fear through their bond as he thought of Mistress Black’s magic, of the things she’d done to him and forced him to do.

  Oh, Elijah.

  She desperately wanted to go to her mate, but right now she didn’t feel as if she could walk without toppling over. Instead, she seized his hand as he stalked by the couch. “We’ll think of something. I’m not letting her anywhere near you if I can help it.”

  “We might not have a choice,” he murmured, staring into empty space with that hard look he got when he was overthinking something. His spine stiffened, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. A second later, Verika’s stomach churned.

  “Crap!” she squeaked.

  Alara, who had been watching both of them like a hawk—or, more appropriately, a wolf—was already prepared. She shoved a decorative bowl in front of Elijah, just in time for him to puke in it.

  Verika grasped her hair and did the same in the wastebasket Danica had set beside the couch. Danica bent over her, gently holding her hair back with a grimace. “That does not sound fun,” she said as Verika straightened with a groan.

  “It’s not. It’s absolutely wretched.” She graciously accepted the wet towelette Alara handed her and wiped her mouth. “My body’s starting to hurt, too. It kind of reminds me of when I had the flu.”

  “How do you feel?” Gage looked at a ghastly Elijah.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t hear her over all the vomiting. Did she say the flu? Sounds about right.”

  “I’ll get you both something for the aches and nausea.” Heath scurried from the room.

  Verika settled back against the throw pillow. “Guess Advil and Pepto-Bismol are just as good for magic-induced flu-like symptoms.”

  “You can’t remove the brand?” Nik asked her.

  “No. I tried. I think it really can only be removed by Mistress Black herself. Blood Magic is particular like that. That’s why so many people use it to secure top-secret information. Think of it like a magical thumbprint or voice recognition, like what you see in spy movies.”

  The room went silent. Everyone wore the same grave, stumped expression.

  A moment later, Heath returned with tablets and Sprite. “To help settle your stomachs.” He handed red and pink pills to both her and Elijah. “And good old acetaminophen for the pain.”

  “Thanks, man.” Elijah took them both down in one gulp.

  Verika would swallow a whole elephant if it would make her feel better. Knocking back the pills and the soda, she focused on taking deep breaths instead of fussing over her roiling stomach.

  “Well, we’re not going to get anywhere just standing here stewing over it,” Gage said. “I say we let Verika and Elijah rest for now, and convene again at supper to discuss a plan of action.” He looked at Elijah with a mixture of sympathy and understanding underscored by cold-hearted r
uthlessness. “I know you’re…troubled about confronting Mistress Black, but we ultimately need to face her. This is never going to end until we can get rid of her for good.”

  “I know,” Elijah said quietly, swallowing hard. Verika swore he got paler.

  With a curt nod, Gage clapped him on the arm. “Danica and I will stay until this is all sorted out. Um, get to feeling better.”

  Seemingly at a loss for words, the werewolf king walked out of the room, chatting with Heath along the way.

  Verika got how he felt. Really, she did. If she’d had a long-lost sister all of a sudden pop up again in her life, she’d be unsure how to feel, too. On one hand, you’d be hurt they’d abandoned you and hadn’t thought enough of you to call over the years. On the flip side, you’d remember all the happy memories you had as kids, and would want to return to those good times.

  Though she’d never voiced it out loud, she doubted the brothers would ever be able to return to the level of trust they used to have. Or maybe she was projecting her own feelings onto the situation. Once her trust was broken, it took a long time for it to return.

  If it ever did.

  For them, at least, she hoped and prayed it did. Especially for Elijah’s sake. She’d watched the guilt and self-loathing for abandoning his brothers eat away at him day by day, hour by hour, and had felt helpless to heal him like she so desperately wished. But someone else’s love couldn’t remove another person’s scars. Sometimes you had to face your demons by yourself if you had any hope of conquering them. Sometimes, you had to let your loved ones fight their own battles, and keep standing by them so they’d know they were never alone.

  Danica glanced at the door and back at them. “Uh,” she said, awkwardly running a hand through her golden hair, “I’m going to see if Gage needs my help with anything. Being a queen never stops and all that.”

  After Danica left, Verika started to stand. When Elijah took a step toward her, Nik said, “Actually, could I have a moment with her, Eli?”

  Alara went still.

  Elijah glanced between Nik and Verika and gave a cautious nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

  He looked at Verika over his shoulder as he walked away. She gave him a reassuring smile, though her chest fluttered with butterflies.