The Moon Warriors

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The Moon Warriors Page 3

by Kayla Krantz


  “He works for Reddick,” Marcus says at last.

  I whirl on him. “He works for him? What does that mean?”

  “Relax. Nothing bad. He’s an errand boy.”

  Alec lets out an offended “hmmph.” “I’m worth more than that.”

  Marcus waves his hand in a gesture meant for Alec to explain himself.

  Alec give him a scathing glance before dips a bit closer, eyes locked on mine. “Okay, I do work for him but it’s…not like I’m into black magic myself. I gather things for him. Supplies.”

  “You’re a dealer then?” I ask and Marcus bursts into laughter.

  “In a way, I suppose,” Alec says, taking no notice of Marcus’ background noise. “He puts in requests. I gather the supplies and he pays me. No questions, no answers.”

  “So, hypothetically, you could lead me to him then.”

  Alec furrows his brow, eyes shifting between me and Marcus as if he’s not sure how to answer that. “You’re serious? He’ll tear you up and throw you out with today’s trash! Why in the world would you want to get into contact with Reddick?”

  “Not for whatever reason you’re probably assuming,” I assure him. “I’m…” I swallow, again unsure of how much information to divulge.

  “She’s looking for information about her friend,” Marcus says, deciding for me.

  “You have friends on this side of the border?” Alec asks, raising an eyebrow. “I feel as if I would’ve seen you around before now if that’s accurate. These are small circles after all.”

  I drop my gaze to the table and for anyone passing by, it probably looks as if I’m glaring at my unfinished plate of food. Despite the fact that I’m here for Ian, I suddenly feel ashamed to talk about it as if whatever he’s done somehow reflects negatively on myself. And maybe it does.

  “Had. Had a friend on this side of the border. He…dabbled in things he shouldn’t have and got himself into trouble.”

  “Ah,” Alec says, face smoothing into calm clarity that makes me feel even worse than his curiosity had. “A witch.”

  I bob my head. “Shadow, did you know him?”

  Alec freezes instantly. “The name…is familiar.”

  My heart pounds painfully in my chest but I can’t determine what emotion stirs the reaction. “I can’t really describe him to you.” I pause to sigh. “Apparently, he used magic to change his appearance every time he crossed the border. The name…the name is all I have to go on.” I can feel the stinging in the back of my eyes again and I blink furiously to make it go away.

  I will not cry.

  “If he was close to Reddick, I’m good without knowing all the details,” he assures me, reaching across the table to touch my hand gently.

  I tense, assuming it will burn but nothing happens and I stare at my hand in amazement when he pulls his away. The shock, as it turns out, is an excellent distraction from my sorrow.

  “So, will you lead us to Reddick or not?” Marcus asks.

  I cut my eyes at him, holding up a hand to stop Alec before he can reply. “Hold on. We?”

  Marcus nods, cocking his head as if he’s offended by the question. “I think I’m just as invested in this whole thing as you at this point.”

  I stare at him, once again not understanding why he bothered to involve himself in the first place. If the situation had been reversed, I most likely would’ve never intervened, letting fate do what it would. I guess that’s the difference between him and me.

  “Fine,” I say grudgingly and turn back to Alec. “Can you take us to him, please?”

  Alec taps his fingers on the table for a long moment, looking thoughtful. “I can if you make me just one promise.”

  “Shoot,” Marcus says and I barely repress the urge to glare at him again. I should be the one making bargains, not him. I sigh and the anger leaves. I guess in a way it’s fair. Without him, I probably wouldn’t have even gotten this far. I should be grateful for all he’s done and even more grateful that he’s still here. I can’t bring myself to pull out that emotion so I suppose the least I can do is let him call the shots.

  “Don’t say a word to Reddick about me.”

  Marcus grins and holds his massive hand out across the table. “Deal, brother.”

  7.

  WHILE THE REST of the town might be higher than my expectations, Reddick’s building is exactly how I pictured a demon’s hangout would be. It’s shadowy, so dense around the building that in the dead of night, I can’t tell what it looks like. I have a chill down my spine that tells me it’s probably for the best that I can’t see it. If I could, I would most likely turn around and abandon my mission on the spot.

  Alec points us to the entrance on the side of the building but before we can get clarification on the story we’re supposed to tell, he’s slipped away into the very shadows that we just came through.

  I look up at Marcus and he looks back at me. “Ready for this?” he asks, face crafted in deadly concern.

  “Is there really such a thing?” I grumble and pull my cloak tighter around my shoulders as I hustle forward.

  Marcus sets a hand on my shoulder and I realize it’s to slow me. He keeps his pace at my side, glancing left and right as if he expects us to be ambushed at any moment. The more I watch him, the more it sinks in that this really is a dangerous situation. Not just for me. He’s risking a lot for me and I don’t even have the decency to repay him by looking over my own damn shoulder.

  Pride is a sin for a reason, I scold myself and that somehow makes my mood even worse.

  Marcus smirks as he bangs on the door and I cringe, the sound ringing out into the silence of the night making it even louder than it probably is.

  “Relax. You’re acting like you don’t belong here,” Marcus says to me as we wait for some response on the other side of the door.

  I scoff and reach up to knock this time. “That’s because I don’t.”

  “Maybe not but you don’t want him to know that.”

  “He’ll know when he sees me,” I point out, gesturing to my face.

  “He might be able to figure out where you’re from but that doesn’t mean shit about how he’ll see you as a person…witch…whatever the fuck you are. Unlike your Elders, these demons don’t give a damn about the treaty.”

  “Fair enough,” I say and bang on the door one more time just as it swings open.

  I can’t see the demon on the other side of the door but by the outline of the shadow, I can tell he’s a large being, cloaked in black everywhere from his hands to his feet. The only part of him that I can actually see is the bit of his face that’s exposed beneath the brim of his hood.

  Somehow, that little bit of exposure makes him even more terrifying because I can only guess what the rest of him looks like. Even though I’ve got my hood hanging low as well, I doubt I come across even half as frightening as he does.

  “Yes?” he asks voice loud and commanding but at the same time devoid of emotion, of humanity.

  “I’m looking for Reddick,” I say instantly.

  The figure is quiet, staring at me before the bit of exposed face turns to Marcus. I know what he’s thinking without him saying a word. A witch and a demon? It confuses even him. “We don’t serve your kind here,” he says to me at last and goes to close the door.

  That changes something in me. “The Hell you don’t!” I snarl and lash out, putting my boot in the way before the wood can slam shut.

  He struggles to close it anyway and I can feel the heavy surface grinding the bones in my foot but I push in the opposite direction, forcing it open the best I can. Marcus is frozen beside me, unsure which side of the fight he should take, but when I glance up at him with the demand for help in my eyes, he joins in and less than a minute later, the door is flung open with us on the threshold.

  Reddick takes a step backward but his lips curve into a smile. “For a lowly witch, you’re brave.”

  “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” I retort and glance
to Marcus.

  He fights back a laugh, forcing his face to take on something that resembles grim determination.

  “And what stops me from having you both killed right here, right now?” he sneers.

  Marcus doesn’t look so thrilled at this point.

  “Your curiosity,” I say. “You’re intrigued by us, our situation.”

  I still can’t see his face but for some reason, I know that he’s impressed by the answer. “Ah, very astute.”

  “You knew my friend,” I accuse.

  He holds his hands out and laugh. “My dear girl, I know many people.”

  “How many of them have you killed?” I snarl.

  “Easy,” Marcus mutters to me, grasping my wrist suddenly as if he’s afraid I’ll lunge at Reddick.

  If I was sure of the situation, I might do just that but this is a situation I’m far from comfortable in. I haven’t forgotten how dangerous Reddick is—the fear in Alec’s eyes is hard to shake off. For all I know, Reddick is made more of shadows than a corporal body and I’d only be hurting myself and my own cause by acting so hasty.

  Reddick doesn’t seem offended by the insinuation. Instead he laughs and laughs, the sound rumbling the very walls and ceiling. I glance around, worried the flimsy structure will collapse but it doesn’t.

  “I do not hurt anyone, witch,” he says at last. “I merely supply the tools and what they do from there determines their own fate. Black magic does not come without its own dangers. Whatever you do onto others comes back to you threefold.”

  I frown and want so desperately to argue but know that I have no grounds to do so I just stay silent.

  Marcus must sense the shift in mood in me because he speaks up once again. “We’re looking for a witch named Shadow.”

  Reddick begins to laugh, the sound seemingly coming from him and every shadowy corner of the room all at once. I glance around, subtly taking a step backward until I’m pressed against Marcus’ side.

  “I am…aware of him,” Reddick says at last and the laughter subsides.

  When the surprise from his outburst fades, it’s replaced with anger and I charge forward, toward the darkest mass of shadows. Marcus puts a hand on my shoulder, trying to stop me but I ignore it this time, helpless to my anger.

  “How could you?” I demand, swiping for him when I feel Marcus grab my hand and tug me back.

  “Are you crazy!?” he demands, growling in my ear.

  I don’t take my eyes off of Reddick. He’s smiling under the rim of his hood and I can tell he’s enjoying the show before him. And why not? I know what I look like—for a master of black magic, I would never be intimidating despite my best attempts.

  “Oh, my. It seems you have the wrong idea about me,” he says, tipping his head to the side.

  I narrow my eyes. “No, I think the problem is that I see all too well what you are.”

  “And even if your assumptions were correct, what do you believe you can do about it? You think you can avenge him somehow? That you stand a chance against me?”

  I reach up to grasp the glowing pendant around my throat and the smile on Reddick’s face only intensifies. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the tiniest skull I’ve ever seen. A rat skull, I assume by the shape. He makes sure that both Marcus and I see it then he closes his hand into a fist, reducing the tiny bone to dust. Instantly, the light in my crystal goes out and a pain radiates through my chest. I gasp and take a stumbling step forward, hand clutching at my skin as my knees buckle beneath me.

  I collapse to the floor, unable to breathe and desperately trying to figure out a way how. Marcus drops to the floor beside me. I feel his hand on my hip but other than that, my vision is becoming a pinpoint, the edges as dark as the shadows in Reddick’s body.

  “What are you doing to her?” Marcus demands.

  I risk one glance back up at Reddick before the room around me turns black.

  8.

  WHEN I COME back to consciousness again, I feel as if I’m floating on a cloud. My body feels weightless and I reach out through the darkness but I can’t see anything. I don’t know where am I, but there’s a voice in the back of my head that reminds me I should be concerned.

  Bit by bit my memory returns to me and then the room around me comes to focus. My vision is still just a pinpoint when I open my eyes but it quickly opens to my full vision. The ceiling above me isn’t one I recognize but when I sit up, I realize I’m on a bed which is also unfamiliar.

  “Don’t move too much,” Marcus’ voice floats into my mind.

  When I turn in the direction of the sound, I see that he’s seated on the edge of the bed beside me. He sets his hand to my forehead and I just stare at him, at the concern I see in his eyes. It makes no sense. I’m a stranger to him just as he is to me. We’re supposed to be enemies and yet here he is with me…wherever here is.

  “What happened?” I ask, licking my dry lips, and he finally pulls his hand back.

  “Your bravery…does not do you any favors on this side of the boundary,” he says with a great deal of restraint.

  Then I remember. The skull and the black out. Reddick’s laughter. Marcus’ screams. “Reddick! Where he is?”

  “I think it’s best we don’t talk about him,” Marcus says, hand clenching into a fist on his lap.

  “Wh-but he knows what happened to Shadow,” I say quietly.

  “Yeah,” Marcus says and his voice is bitter. “But you should be more concerned about what happened to yourself.”

  My eyes stretch wide at the sound of venom in his voice. It’s an unexpected contrast to the concern that’s still so visible in the depths of his eyes. I catch his gaze for just a second but he turns his face away and stands up so fast that the bed shifts without his weight.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, reaching a hand toward him.

  He doesn’t turn to face me. “What’s wrong?” he asks so softly and then louder, “What’s wrong?”

  I swallow.

  He says nothing, merely holds up his left arm. I glance over his shoulder, studying his skin from his shoulder down to his hand. Then I see it, a band of black markings twirling from the back of his hand to the inside of his arm, ending in the crook of his elbow. The lines twist and cross and I stare, unsure of what I’m seeing.

  “What is that?” I ask.

  “The reason you’re still alive,” he says and storms out of the room.

  I’m stunned into silence, shocked into paralysis. There are probably a million things I should be thinking about but in the moment, all I can see are the marks on his wrist. I’ve seen something like that before, haven’t I?

  No, he wouldn’t, I think and lift my fingers, chewing subtly on my nails. When I see my arm, I realize I have the exact same marks.

  9.

  “WH-WHAT?” I STUTTER out, holding my arm as far away from me as I can as if I think that denying it will make them disappear somehow.

  Then, I try the opposite approach and bring my arm closer, studying the design in my skin. The lines are deep, engraved. I press at them, marring them with my fingers, but they don’t fade for anything. The skin around them turns red from the effort but they remain unchanged.

  What did Reddick do? I think again and look up at the door Marcus had stormed through. I have to find him.

  I toss the blanket off of me and try to stand to my feet. The second my toes touch onto the floor, I know I’ve made a mistake. I topple to the ground, and I cry out, reaching down to touch my legs. The skin is cold and when I try to move them, they don’t comply.

  “Marcus!” I cry out.

  I don’t expect him to respond but once again, he defies my expectations and the door flies open to reveal him standing in the frame. When he catches sight of me on the ground, he sighs. “Didn’t I tell you to stay on the bed?”

  “What’s going on, Marcus? What did you do for me?” I ask, holding up my arm as he crouches beside me.

  He purses his lips and ruffles his hair. “I did wh
at I had to do.”

  “Please don’t tell me you made a deal with him.”

  “And what would you say if I said that was exactly what happened? What would you do if I said I traded my life for yours?”

  I look down at the floor, my dark hair creating a curtain around my face. “I would tell you to take it back, that you made a mistake. To let my fate be my own. You owe me no favors, especially after everything you’ve already done.”

  “And what was the alternative? Let him kill you?” Marcus asks then drops his gaze. “You do realize that was the plan?”

  “Yes,” I answer honestly, clenching my jaw in the slightest. “It’s what any demon would do, right?” Who am I kidding, that’s not limited to demons. Half the witches in my Coven would’ve done the same. “He would’ve killed me and you would’ve gone on your merry way, scot free.”

  Marcus smiles and the expression angers me.

  “That’s funny to you?” I ask, glaring up at him.

  “No but your nativity is.” He swipes a finger under his lip, considering this. “You really haven’t been outside of your Coven much if you think he’d let me go, just like that and we’d all live happily ever after.”

  I quirk an eyebrow. “Why not?”

  “As you said, it’s just not the demon way. Especially not for someone like him. I came in with you, he most likely assumes I have other witch alliances who would come sniffing around if we disappeared. Uninvited guests are the last thing he wants.”

  “So, you sacrificed yourself?” I try to sit up but the numbness in my legs causes me to fall back onto my elbows again.

  Marcus tilts his head to the side. “If you’re a pessimist, which at this point I assume you are, you can see it that way. I prefer to think of it as I saved both of our lives.”

  I sigh, the breath stirring my bangs before I peer up at him through the strands of hair. “Depends on the terms of the deal.”

  Marcus just stares at me for a long moment and the laughter is gone. Everything is gone and he’s in a memory inside his head. I can tell by the unfocused look in his eyes. When they finally turn to me, he opens his mouth and closes it again as if he knows more than he’s willing to say. The silence kills me. I can literally feel the suspense of the moment tearing down everything in me until I finally blurt out, “What did you promise him?”

 

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