Witching Moon

by Yasmine Galenorn

  Witching Moon

  A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 12

  Yasmine Galenorn

  A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication

  Published by Yasmine Galenorn

  PO Box 2037, Kirkland WA 98083-2037

  WITCHING MOON

  A Wild Hunt Novel

  Copyright © 2020 by Yasmine Galenorn

  First Electronic Printing: 2020 Nightqueen Enterprises LLC

  First Print Edition: 2020 Nightqueen Enterprises

  Cover Art & Design: Ravven

  Art Copyright: Yasmine Galenorn

  Editor: Elizabeth Flynn

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED No part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any format, be it print or electronic or audio, without permission. Please prevent piracy by purchasing only authorized versions of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, or places is entirely coincidental and not to be construed as representative or an endorsement of any living/ existing group, person, place, or business.

  A Nightqueen Enterprises LLC Publication

  Published in the United States of America

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Welcome to Witching Moon

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Cast of Characters

  Timeline of Series

  Playlist

  Biography

  Acknowledgments

  Welcome back into the world of the Wild Hunt. We’re at book twelve, and into the second story arc. The future is looming dark as Typhon rises and his emissaries begin to emerge. I love the world of the Wild Hunt, and am so grateful you do too. It’s become a living, breathing entity in my thoughts and imagination.

  Thanks to my usual crew: Samwise, my husband; Andria and Jennifer—without their help, I’d be swamped. To the women who have helped me find my way in indie, you’re all great, and thank you to every one. To my wonderful cover artist, Ravven, for the beautiful work she’s done.

  Also, my love to my furbles, who keep me happy. My most reverent devotion to Mielikki, Tapio, Ukko, Rauni, and Brighid, my spiritual guardians and guides. My love and reverence to Herne, and Cernunnos, and to the Fae, who still rule the wild places of this world. And a nod to the Wild Hunt, which runs deep in my magick, as well as in my fiction.

  You can find me through my website at Galenorn.com and be sure to sign up for my newsletter to keep updated on all my latest releases! If you liked this book, I’d be grateful if you’d leave a review—it helps more than you can think.

  June 2020

  Brightest Blessings,

  ~The Painted Panther~

  ~Yasmine Galenorn~

  Welcome to Witching Moon

  When you dance with Death, you have to be willing to roll the bones…

  Still shaken from her run-in with the serial killer, Raven turns to a new and unlikely friend. But the Ante-Fae Trinity has dark secrets in his background, and he threatens to destabilize Raven and Kipa's relationship. When Trinity introduces Raven to a secret garden, it quickly becomes the place of nightmares. Will Raven’s recklessness endanger her friends as well as herself? Or will the Wolf Lord and Raven’s dearest friends not only put the nightmare to rest, but also drag Raven back from the edge of the chasm?

  Reading Order for the Wild Hunt Series:

  Book 1: The Silver Stag

  Book 2: Oak & Thorns

  Book 3: Iron Bones

  Book 4: A Shadow of Crows

  Book 5: The Hallowed Hunt

  Book 6: The Silver Mist

  Book 7: Witching Hour

  Book 8: Witching Bones

  Book 9: A Sacred Magic

  Book 10: The Eternal Return

  Book 11: Sun Broken

  Book 12: Witching Moon

  Book 13: Autumn’s Bane (forthcoming)

  Chapter One

  Even though it was a few minutes past nine, the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon. Dusk was spreading out over the city as the echo of birdsong played through the trees, jumping from swaying bough to swaying bough. The firs and cedars were thick in the cemetery, along with a massive yew tree, its multitude of trunks weaving together to form a thick foundation rising out of the ground. The spirit in the yew tree was ponderous and ancient, watching over not only the cemetery but the entire area. Its energy leached into many a house and hearth for miles around.

  I stood near a mausoleum, staring at the spirit who was hovering in front of me. She had been dead for so very long, but now she had woken up from her slumber and was staring down at me, pissed out of her mind. I took a deep breath and stepped back.

  “Go back to sleep, old mother. Return to your grave, Lenora Maureen.”

  My voice rang clear and sure, as I forced as much energy into the command as I could. I had the power to drive her back to the Phantom Kingdom. She couldn’t move on, not until she let go of her anger and accepted her death, but I should be able to break her hold on the material world and send her packing.

  However, Lenora didn’t want to go. Instead of obeying me, she reared up, her misty form taking on substance. Crap. That’s the last thing I needed. Ghosts who could take on corporeal form were the hardest to deal with.

  “Old mother, back into your bed to slumber! Return to your grave.” I intensified my focus and as I did so, the opening in the fabric of the Veil became visible. I could see the rip that led to the Phantom Kingdom as clearly as I could see the mausoleum.

  The Phantom Kingdom was the world in which all realms intersected, and it stood outside of time and space. There, spirits who hadn’t yet gone on to their rest or a new life wandered, looking for rips in the Veil so they could return to the world to which they were still so attached. The Phantom Kingdom also led to the Dreamtime, the spirit world, the astral realm, and other etheric altaverses. It was the universal realm that acted as a gateway to all other worlds, both physical and energetic.

  I focused on the opening, softening my gaze. The rip didn’t look like a natural portal, but rather like it had been torn open. Over the past few months, more and more tears like this had occurred, and they were directly related to Typhon’s waking. He had not yet come into the physical realm, but he was awake and hiding out someplace in the Phantom Kingdom. As he spun out his plans, more breaches in the Veil were occurring. This was the fifth time I’d been called out by Herne and the Wild Hunt to drive angry ghosts back to the grave.

  Feeling both irritated and exhausted, I resorted to one of the oldest tricks in the book. It was an old remedy, but effective. I opened my traveling bag o’ magic and sorted through it until I found what I was looking for. Goofer dust. A variant of the usual hoodoo blends, I had mixed it with the specific intent to drive ghosts back through the Veil. First, I had blended a mixture of graveyard dirt, ground black pepper, silver filings, asafetida, and powdered raven’s bones. Then I added clippings from my mother’s hair—which she had willingly given to me—and charmed the whole mixture in Circle, invoking Arawn’s energy into the cauldron.

  Hand on my hip, I stared up at Lenora. She was rapidly taking form and it occurred to me that I’d better work fast, because by the look on her face, she was getting ready to dive-bomb me.

  Frowning, I edged back a step as I tried to twist the lid off the jar of goofer d
ust. Apparently, that’s all the impetus Lenora needed. I went flying through the air and landed on my butt at the base of a fern. The goofer dust went rolling to the side as I landed on a sharp rock jutting out of the ground.

  “Motherfucking…” I groaned as I eased my tailbone off the rock, but froze as the spirit came barreling toward me again, this time in the shape of a misty ramrod.

  “Oh no you don’t!” I rolled to the side, grabbing up the jar of goofer dust. I came to a squatting position, keeping my eye on Lenora. The attack had disrupted her form, and she was now a scattered mist, but she was trying to gather herself together again—the mist was beginning to coalesce again.

  Panting, I wrenched the lid off the goofer dust and waited for her to attack me again.

  “Come on, bitch! You want a taste of me? Come on, try it again, I dare you!” I usually had respect for the dead, but not when they were trying to kill me. And with her attack, Lenora had crossed the line into my I don’t give a fuck category. I would do whatever needed to send her back to

  where she came from.

  As the sun vanished below the horizon, Lenora took on an ethereal glow, shimmering in the twilight. She was eerily beautiful, like a memory caught in time, transparent and tragic. Her face was vaguely skeletal—she had lost the vestiges of the woman she had once been. Chances were, she hadn’t chosen to wake up. Chances were good that the Father of Dragons had been responsible for her waking. But even though it wasn’t her fault, she was here now, awake and angry, and I was her current target.

  “Time to go back to the grave, Lenora.”

  As she began to take form again, the mist thickening, fear rose in my throat. She’s just a spirit, I whispered to myself. You’ve tackled far harder jobs than this before.

  But then, before Lenora could attack again, I caught a glimpse of my hands. I was wearing fingerless lace gloves, but they couldn’t hide my memories. My nails were shiny and new, they had grown in quickly, but there were scars all over my fingertips. I stared at them, feeling dizzy, and then…

  I was staring up at Pandora, chained to a metal table in a cavern, and nobody knew where I was. The blonde who had been so friendly to me at Fire & Fang was now leaning over me, gently stroking my face. But there were stars in her eyes and she swayed as I watched, the look on her face terrifying and cruel.

  “I’m afraid this is going to hurt you a lot more than it does me, darling,” she said, her smile turning feral. She held up a wicked pair of pliers. “We’ll start easy, how about that? Now, buck up. I know you can handle this, lovely one. You’re one of the Ante-Fae. You can handle far more than you think you can. I promise you that.”

  I tried to speak, but my tongue felt like cotton. She had charmed me so I couldn’t say a word. I could scream, but I couldn’t form words.

  I struggled to speak, but I could barely open my lips. Frustrated, I let out a faint noise, the sound ripping out from my throat.

  “Oh, love, don’t thank me.” A sneer replaced the smile. “Trust me, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll curse me, you’ll hate me, you’ll fear me, and with every scream and every tear you shed, I’ll feast on your sorrow. You’ll never, ever forget me. I’ll live in your dreams and your nightmares.” She raised the pliers and moved away from my face, turning her attention to my left hand.

  I felt her take my fingers, but couldn’t see what she was doing. She had me shackled to the table, and the iron cuffs chafed at my wrists. Thank the gods I was Ante-Fae and not Fae or my skin would be blistered and burned by now. As it was, the iron would take its toll but it would take longer to do so.

  As she held my index finger, I stiffened, realizing what she was going to do. I shifted, fighting against the restraints, but to no use. The cuffs were rock solid.

  “Don’t worry, this won’t take any time at all,” Pandora said.

  I tensed as I felt cold metal touch the tip of my finger. And then, the next moment, she laughed as a blistering pain registered through my finger. Before I could scream, she moved onto the next finger and by the time the screams ripped out of my throat, she was on the third. My voice echoed against the ceiling, ricocheting off the walls.

  Pandora laughed and moved up to gaze in my face. “Delicious. You’re absolutely delicious.” She licked her lips, looking lascivious and wanton. As the fire spread through my hand and into my body, she returned to my side and took hold of the fourth finger.

  Once again, the flames roiled inside…

  Lenora cackled as she body-slammed me to the ground and I shook out of my memories. I rolled up, crouching low as I finally yanked the cap off the goofer dust. As the ghost launched another attack, I poured a mound of the dust in my hand and tossed it at her.

  The dust hit her square in her face and confusion spread over her face as she went reeling back through the rip in the Veil. I held my hand up to the rip, focusing on smoothing it shut, and the tear sealed back together.

  Lenora was back where she belonged. At least, for now.

  I sat down on the grass, staring at the graveyard around me. It was quiet now, and although I could see a few spirits wandering the grounds, none of them seemed out of place or intent on causing trouble. I leaned back, bringing my knees to my chest. I wrapped my arms around my knees as the sound of birdsong echoed around me. As dusk settled, I gazed up at the emerging stars and began to cry. Around me, the spirits passed by, giving me muted looks of sorrow from their shadowy realm.

  “I’m home,” I said, opening the door. I had texted ahead. Kipa was constantly nagging me to let him know where I was and that I was all right. While I understood why, the truth was—his constant need for reassurance was beginning to bother me.

  Raj came lumbering up to rub against my legs. While I had always loved him, lately we had grown closer. He kept an eye on my moods and it was as though he could sense I was lost in my thoughts again, trapped in my memories.

  “Raven looks sad,” Raj said. He stared up at me, his eyes wide and welcoming. “Is Raven in the bad place again?”

  That was Raj’s way of asking if I had slipped into another flashback. Ever since Pandora had kidnapped me, I found myself slipping into fugues, reliving the things she had done to me. And if Ember and Trinity hadn’t come to my rescue, I’d be dead by now. I was all too aware of that fact. I prided myself on my ability to take care of myself. We Ante-Fae were hard to kill, but when a goddess took it into her mind to turn sadist, there wasn’t much that mortals could do to stop her. And I had been reminded all too violently of my mortality.

  “Raven’s all right, Raj. Raven’s home now.” I knelt down and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him on the head. “How’s Raj doing?”

  Ignoring my question, Raj said, “Kipa misses Raven. Raven spend time with Kipa?” He gave me those big brown puppy-dog eyes that only gargoyles, cats, and dogs could muster.

  I bit my lip, feeling torn.

  Kipa had been nothing but wonderful since I had come home from the Healing Center in Annwn. But as much as I appreciated Kipa’s protection, I chafed against it. Part of me wanted to retreat inside his arms, to beg him to go with me every time I left the house, just in case that psycho bitch was still gunning for me. But another part of me wanted to fight back, to prove that she wasn’t ruling my life now.

  I pressed my lips together, stroking the leather hide of Raj’s back. He looked so worried that I finally smiled and nodded. “Yes, Raven will spend time with Kipa. Raven loves Raj.”

  “Raj knows Raven loves him. Does Raven love Kipa?”

  Kipa and I were still dancing around those words, though I had the feeling he really did love me. But neither one of us approached the thought easily, and neither one of us took the declaration lightly. So the words remained unspoken, and I figured that—if they came—they would come in their own time. However, when it came to Raj, there was a fine line between love and like. He looked so anxious that I just nodded.

  “Yes, Raven loves Kipa.” And it was true, if I let myself adm
it it.

  Satisfied, Raj wandered back to the living room where he fired up the television. The lively sounds of Acrobert and the Alphas blared out, breaking the silence. I leaned back against the door, took a deep breath to steady myself, and then plastered a smile on my face and headed toward the living room where Kipa was waiting with Raj. He glanced up, his eyes lighting up.

  “I’m glad you’re home. Did you scare away the ghost?”

  “She’s back in the Phantom Kingdom, but it wasn’t easy.” I shrugged off the light jacket I was wearing and hung it on the coatrack. “I swear, there has to be a better way to deal with the situation. The gods are no closer to having an answer than they were last month, and things are getting very real, very fast.”

  Kipa scooted over on the sofa and patted the cushion beside him. “The gods are doing everything they can, but as long as Typhon’s hiding out in the Phantom Kingdom, there isn’t much we can do. To be honest, none of us know how to drive him back into stasis. There’s a lot of talk and bluster, but not much to act on. Did you have any trouble tonight?”

  “No, it was all pretty standard.” I didn’t want to tell him about the flashback. I was tired of having flashbacks, and I felt like I should be over them by now. Also, if I told him, he’d start to panic and then he’d try to make things better and we’d only end up in an argument.

  “Is there any spaghetti left? I’m still hungry.” Instead of sitting beside him, I headed toward the kitchen. I saw his smile fall away before I left the room.