Moon of Curses

by H. D. Gordon

  “Attack!” came the shout from Gio in my head, and I quickly sent the message to the rest of those with us.

  That was all the time there was before the battle began.

  I was tossed from my horse, the animal rearing as a Wolf nearly as large as it came leaping toward us. I tumbled onto my tailbone, striking the dirt hard, but hardly feeling the impact. I rolled to my feet, my hands drawing down and removing my irons. I fired three shots in the next heartbeat.

  The first saved Kyra’s life, as another Wolf made a leap for her throat. The bullet struck the Wolf right between the eyes, and this bought the Sorceress the time she needed to send a bolt of magic at another Wolf waiting in the wings.

  I’d not been entirely stupid, as I’d had some of the Wolves riding in the wagons take to their Wolf forms, but the ones in their mortal forms didn’t have the time to make the shift, and this left them at a huge disadvantage.

  I ordered those in their Wolf forms to fight, while I strolled with precision and purpose to protect those who were not.

  My boots kicked up plumes of dust as I gripped the irons in my hands, firing both again and again without hesitation. The reports from the weapons were enormous, echoing off the wooden buildings on either side of us, a funnel that had been used to trap us and hinder escape.

  Rage swept through me, overriding any fear that might have cropped up, and I knew my eyes were glowing Wolf-gold as I shot down the attackers one after another.

  The bastards kept on coming.

  Something I was not prepared for was the loss I felt each time one of my own Pack went down. Every loss was like having a small piece of myself cut away, not just an emotional wrenching, but a physical one as well.

  It fueled my anger, and I growled as my irons clicked with emptiness. A Wolf tried to attack during my reload, but I kicked the bastard square in the jaw, sending him back several feet. Kyra sent a blast of magic that doubled the impact. I killed and killed, and still more Wolves seeped from the shadows.

  When I realized that the wagons had been mounted by the enemy, and they started to pull away with the shipment in tow, the fury within me only heightened, and I vowed to live through this thing if only to exact my revenge.

  All in all, the fighting did not last that long, but that between the Wolves in their beast forms was the worst; the sounds of Dog fights once again visiting Tvardi. The squeals and snarls, the yelps and howls of pain and anger, they were a soundtrack that lifted into the night sky, greeting the watching moon and stars. My guns took down a dozen—more. They exploded again and again, like thunder on the clear, cold night.

  By the time silence fell over the place, the barrels were hot in my hands, smoke curling up from the ends of the weapons.

  The wagons were gone, the large load of shine gone along with them. We had been successfully robbed, but worse than that, we’d lost more than half the Wolves we’d brought along with us.

  I stood in silence, my ears ringing from the reports of my irons, my head spinning with the turn of events as I surveyed the damage. Kyra stood wide-eyed and panting beside me, her dark hair a curly cloud atop her head, her eyes still swirling with the discharge of so much magic.

  I looked at the bodies that lay all around, some in mortal form, others in beast. I looked at each of their faces, took in the state of them with dry and glowing eyes. I found one of the ones who’d attacked us still breathing, the fur on his chest rising and falling as he drew shallow breaths. I stared down at him for a moment, observing the suffering without an ounce of pity.

  I holstered the weapons and stomped his head into the ground until his skull was just a furry mess, his brain matter deep in the soles of my boots.

  The Wolves of my Pack who’d survived—there were only six of us now, and we’d come with just short of twenty—watched this violent display in silence. The sounds of my stomping, of the squishing and crushing and crunching, rose up into the night. Blood splattered my legs, it marred my face and hands, and when I turned to face those who’d made it through, I had no doubt in my mind that I looked like an absolute mad person.

  Gio limped over to me, Kyra as well. In fact, the remaining gathered round as I drew harsh breaths that hung in the cold air before me. Silence and stillness had once again claimed the old Dog town, and vengeance had once again claimed my heart.

  I didn’t need to speak the words.

  If Angelo Mangera wanted a war, then that was exactly what he would get.

  Chapter 18

  I called in other members of the Pack to retrieve the bodies of the fallen and have them brought home, where we would give them a proper send off.

  I doubled the security at our house and sent my younger siblings and nephew away again. I offered words of consolation to those that had survived the ambush, and promised them retribution. I showered off the blood of my enemies, watching as it circled and disappeared down the drain.

  Hanging my head as the hot water poured over me, I saw the images of the Wolves I’d killed, felt again the pang of pain at those I’d lost.

  I had not asked for this. I had not wanted it. Every time I’d made an attempt to cool things down, to withdraw from the bloodshed, my hand was forced again. I could no more let this robbery and attack stand than I could the murder of my father. In the world of the Wolves, blood must always answer blood, and it was this thought, along with everything else, that defeated me so.

  After my shower, I dressed and stood in the office, staring out the window overlooking the front drive. I would be sleeping on the roof again tonight, my nerves too frayed to allow for anything else. It was here, with a glass of shine in my hand, that Elian found me.

  The Demon released a low sigh as he stood beside me at the window. He didn’t reach out for an embrace, and for this, I was glad. It was as if he knew that I did not need to feel vulnerable right now. I needed to embrace the anger, because it would sustain me through what would come next.

  When Kyra and Devon also joined us in the office, I felt a sense of ease that I was more grateful for than anyone present would ever know. A terrible thing had happened, yes, but the three people I trusted most in the world were beside me, and I took comfort in the knowledge that they would remain there.

  None spoke for what seemed a long while. The night beyond the window held fast, the moon that had witnessed the atrocity earlier peeking out of the clouds at intervals.

  “I didn’t want this,” I said at last, my words low but clear, along with the resignation and resolve that rode under them.

  None responded.

  “I want to get us free of this life,” I told them. “I will get us free. I will see it through. A life like this, it’s no life at all. It’s no place for family.”

  I could feel their attention on me, knew I had their full devotion, but still, none spoke. They knew as well as I did what had to be done, and they were as devastated over it as I was.

  I took a long swig of my shine, draining the glass and staring down at it in my hand.

  “Once this is done,” I said, “we’re out. We take our earnings and move on. We start a new life with what we have, and we keep our heads low. No more death. No more danger. No more bloodshed. I’ve had enough.”

  The words felt final, concrete. I could tell that my loved ones needed to hear them as much as I needed to say them. We all needed to believe that there was a light at the end of this tunnel I’d dragged us into, a finish line that was within reach.

  We would need to cling to that affirmation for what lie ahead, lest we lose ourselves in the coming carnage.

  Mangera knew that I’d survived the attack, knew that I would strike back, and strike back hard, so reaching him would be a task that required real finesse.

  He’d doubled his security same as I had mine, put into hiding those nearest him, the weak points in his armor that I would surely exploit. He was not so arrogant as Ezra Ward had been, not so proud. Angelo was business-minded by nature, which was no doubt why he’d wanted to dispose of me
in the first place. I’d been amassing too much power, and he’d seen that threat for what it was.

  I could think of no other reason that he would take the action he’d taken, no other motive that stood out to me. I’d been firm, but never disrespectful in our meetings. I’d cut him fair deals and held up my end of the bargain each time. Of course, my being female might have bothered him, but enough to start this kind of battle? That was a question to which I needed no answer. What was done was done, and what would come next would come.

  For the immediate moment, there was nothing to do but wait. My response to the last insult from a major Pack had bought me time with my own people. They knew that I would even the odds, take my pound of flesh in recompense for that which was taken from me. Of all the things that had come after having murdered the four Ward males, this respect was not the least important of them. I needed to make a calculated choice, and that required time. It required patience.

  Meanwhile, the ghosts of those I’d lost and those I’d killed continued to haunt me, keeping me from sound sleep in the evenings. Bless his heart, because Elian seemed to sense my need for his nearness. The Demon stayed with me most nights, soothing me when I’d wake from a nightmare that would leave me drenched in sweat.

  “It’s okay, Dita,” he’d whisper, stroking my back and brushing my hair from my forehead. “You’re okay. Everything is okay.”

  Even Devon was kinder to me, though I knew that the impending actions were taking a toll on him as well. It soothed my soul to know that my big brother had not abandoned me, that he was here for the long haul, that he would stand by me even when I wasn’t sure I could stand myself.

  And all of this apprehension, this doubt and fear and stress, had to be hidden from the rest of the Pack. I had to hold my head high when it felt as heavy as an anvil, to keep my back straight when all I wanted was to curl up and disappear.

  Elian put forth an idea to me one night as we lie in bed, broaching the subject with the caution of one approaching a sleeping bear.

  “Dita?” he said.

  “Mm?”

  He paused long enough that I opened my eyes and lifted my head from the pillow, turning to look at him.

  “Have you considered the possibility of…not responding to Mangera’s attack?” he asked.

  I felt the tension in his body as he awaited my answer.

  I sighed. “Yes,” I said. “I’ve considered it.”

  Elian let out a heavy breath, as if that was more of a measured response than he’d anticipated. “What would happen if you just cut and run now? If you took those who were closest to you and went through with that plan I set up? Would that not be safer than going against Mangera?”

  “You know who I’d take with me when I went?” I asked.

  “The whole Pack, I assumed.”

  I shook my head. “No. Not the whole Pack. I’d take my blood family, of course. And Kyra, Cora, and Cecelia. I’d take a handful of the others who’ve proven absolute loyalty to me.”

  “And what about me? Am I in this bright future?”

  I blinked at the Demon in the darkness of the room, the moon casting a pale glow through the shadows. “Of course you are. If you want to be. I didn’t want to assume.”

  Elian nodded, kissing my forehead. “But the rest of the Pack?” he resumed. “That’s over ninety people. You’d leave them behind?”

  “Yes, I would. Because their connection to me is only through my being their Alpha. If I relinquished that title, they would leave me, anyway.”

  Eli considered this. “So is that why you’re reluctant to leave before you strike at Mangera, because you’ll be losing the connection to all those people?”

  “No. I need to hit Mangera before I leave because I owe it to those people. Whether they are loyal to me only because of my position or not, if I abandoned them before the threat of Mangera is quelled, he’ll come for them. He’ll kill every one of them just for being associated with me.”

  Eli stroked my back absentmindedly. “You feel a sense of responsibility toward them,” he concluded.

  I released another sigh. “It’d be a real dick-move for me to just leave them to the Wolves, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, I suppose it wouldn’t be the most noble of actions…. But the risk, is it worth it?”

  “If I could predict the future, I wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Miss Silvers. You seem to have a knack for getting into trouble.”

  I turned my head and nipped at his neck, eliciting a small groan from him. “And, yet, here you are. Are you attracted to such mischief, Demon?”

  Elian gripped my backside and hoisted me on top of him. I stared down into his handsome face, grateful for the millionth time that I had not fucked things up between us.

  “Well, you know what they say about Demons,” he replied. “We are creatures of chaos.”

  My head tilted in a Wolf-like fashion that I knew he liked, because he’d told me so. “Ah. No wonder you like me.”

  He tugged my shirt off over my head. “There are several reasons I like you,” he said, reaching up and gripping my breasts in a way that had me arching my back.

  I reached between us and grabbed the part of him that was pushing against me. “Tell me,” I said.

  Elian’s voice became raspy as I stroked him with my hand, but he obliged. “You’re smart,” he said. “And ambitious…and you are fiercely…loyal…to those…you love.”

  “Mmhmm?”

  His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, the Demon magic in his eyes beginning to glow with excitement. “You’re strong…and fearless…and sometimes…you can be really…thoughtful.”

  “Sometimes?”

  Elian chuckled.

  “Okay,” I said. “You know what I like about you?”

  “What’s that?”

  I leaned down and kissed him, guiding him into me in the same moment.

  “Everything,” I answered.

  Those were the last words for quite a while.

  Chapter 19

  “There has to be something, Mila,” I insisted. “Some news. Some weak point.”

  The Shifter shook her head, picking up the glass of shine I’d been sipping from and draining it as if it were hers. Mila was a curious creature, and I’d even grown to like her, but the more time went on, the more anxious I was getting about the issue of Angelo Mangera.

  “I’m sorry, boss,” she said. “He’s got everything on lockdown. He’s not leaving his fortress, and the security there is such that I’ve had to shift into an insect every time I want to get in. An insect. You have no idea what that’s like. Every time I do it, I could literally get eaten by a bird or frog or some shit, or swatted by a shoe or rolled up parchment.”

  I sighed. “Well, I do appreciate the risks you’ve taken, and you’re happy with your reimbursement, no?”

  The Shifter’s full lips pursed as she poured another glass of shine from my personal stash, standing in my bedroom as familiarly as would Elian. “You’ve paid me plenty,” she said. “That’s not at all the issue.”

  I stiffened. “What’s the issue?”

  Mila met my eyes as she spoke, holding them with the same intensity she’d had when I’d first met her, an impressive feat considering that I was an Alpha, and most grown male Wolves could not maintain eye contact for so long. “I see no way that this ends in your favor,” she replied.

  I slipped my hands into my pockets, leaning back a little on my heels. “Ah. You’re concerned about me.”

  Mila held very still, and I tilted my head at her apprehension. She was usually such a confident person, perhaps more so than anyone I’d ever met. It was one of the reasons I liked her. “Does that make you uncomfortable?” she asked.

  I crossed to where she was and poured her more of my shine, handing her the glass that she’d set down. “On the contrary,” I said. “It makes me like you more.”

  Mila drew a slow breath, her tongue tra
cing out over her lips. “Are you planning on leaving this place?” she whispered.

  I hesitated. Even though I’d grown to trust her enough to be my spy, my faith had become a hard thing to obtain for all the obvious reasons.

  “Yes,” I answered at last. “I plan to take out Mangera and his captains, and then take the ones I love and start over elsewhere. This game…it’s too dangerous, and I can no longer justify risking the lives of all those I care about.”

  Mila reached up and brushed some hair from my forehead, an action I would have allowed from few others. “And you’ve already lost so much,” she mumbled, the sympathy in her eyes warming me more toward her.

  “Yes,” I confirmed, thinking of my little brother. “I’ve lost more than I care to think about.”

  Silence held between us for a moment, and I could tell she wanted to say something, but was trying to decide whether or not to do it. I tilted my head, raising my brows slightly in encouragement.

  “When you go,” she said at last, “will you take me with you?”

  This caught me by surprise, and I cocked my head in the other direction, still holding her intense green stare. “You want to come with me?”

  She nodded, long blond hair rippling over her shoulders.

  “You want to be part of my family?”

  Another nod.

  I took a step closer to her, and watched as the breath caught in her chest. “But why?” I asked. “I know you’re attracted to me, but I can never fulfill that need for you.”

  Mila smirked, but in her eyes I saw the pain of a long and lonely life, the same pain I’d often seen in Elian’s eyes. It was one specific to someone with no living family, pain particular to an orphan.

  Though I’d known the Shifter only a moon cycle or so, I thought back now on the small ways I’d included her in things. When she came to visit with information, I’d offered her to take meals with my family. When she’d shivered in the cold winter wind, I’d given her one of my favorite jackets. When she’d come to me drunk one evening, bearing useful information but hardly in a traveling state, I’d carried her to my bed and let her sleep off the stupor. At the time, I hadn’t realized what I’d been doing. I’d decided I liked her, and so I’d treated her the way I would treat anyone who held my affections, because as much as I could be a monster, I was also a caregiver. I’d been a caregiver from the moment my mother had died giving birth to Demarco, and my father hadn’t stepped up to the challenge.